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Rated: · Other · Other · #1482224
Lillum meets her baby brother for the first time
Lillum meets her baby brother
Her mother had been restless all that day. Not being able to settle, not being able to eat. Lillum had begged some fruit from a neighbour, but still she wouldn’t eat, moving from the bench to the stool, then to the bed, only to struggle to get up and walk around their vegetable garden.
“The onions need watering,” she told her daughter, pushing at her back with the knuckles of one hand.
Taking a large wooden bowl, Lillum fetched water from the small canal that ran along a nearby field.
“They’ll need another two of those” her mother added from the bench beneath the lemon tree as the water trickled along the row of onion plants.
She watched without comment as Lillum fetched two more bowls and distributed the water where she thought it was needed most.

“I think its time to call Arrem,” she suddenly said, standing up and staring at the ground beneath the bench. The dusty soil was dark and wet, like the dirt next to the onion plants.
Lillum raced to Arrem’s hut and called out.
“Its time.”
They both hurried back. When Arrem saw the wet ground and her mother standing alone in the garden, she smiled and tutted, guiding her by the hand back into their tiny house.
“Fetch your father,” Arrem shouted to her before disappearing inside.

As Lillum tore down the dirt track heading towards the temple, she tried hard not to think of what was going to happen. Her mother had warned her several days ago, telling her that there would be blood, and pain, and tears, but that at the end of it, she would be all right. It was the only way that babies came into the world she had added. Past the date palms and though the camel yard she ran, coming out on the broad path that led right up to the entrance of their brick-built temple. Slowing down to a walk to show respect to Heb the god of growing things, she tiptoed into the main room. The ceiling towered high above and the sunlight slanting in from the entrance covered the baked earth floor like a gleaming carpet.

Half way along one wall, her father stood on a heavy bench, painting the rump of a large, white cow that represented the Goddess Hathor. There were bowls of pigment on the surface near his feet. As she entered he looked around and seeing her there, stepped down immediately.
“Did you call Arrem?” he asked as he wiped the pigment from his brush.
“She’s there now,” Lillum was able to tell him.
Her father didn’t hurry like Arrem did but took his time, emptying his bowls and wiping them out with some dried rushes.
“Shouldn’t we go?”
“All in good time little one,” he replied as he stacked the bowls and left them in a recess built into the wall. “Babies can take an awful long time making the journey from there to here. Don’t you worry, we won’t miss anything.”
With that he left the temple. Lillum had to trot beside him to keep up with his long-legged stride.

When he went into the house she stayed outside, hiding behind the trunk of the lemon tree. She didn’t want to go inside and see all that blood and pain, but she did want to know that her mother was all right. She waited and waited. For a whole day, no one went into her house and no one came out. It was almost dark when her father came looking for her with her sleeping mat in one hand and a small loaf in the other.
“Go and sleep with Harepsut tonight,” he told her mentioning the name of one of the other girls in the village.

Sitting on her mat under the lemon tree, tearing the bread into tiny pieces and eating them, she waited for it to be over. At one point during the night she woke on her mat to hear sobs, followed by hurried voices and then more sobbing. She put her hands over her ears and crouched down, the tears rolling down her cheek. She could still hear earnest voices cajole, sooth, and beg and then for a long time there was silence. She took her hands down and listened. She heard crickets and cicada’s, the rustling of palms, the occasional grunt of hippos in the river, all the usual night time sounds, but she couldn’t hear anything coming from her house. Frightened now she stood and waited. The scent of lemon mixed with the fragrance of the jasmine, wafted towards her on a gentle breeze. The moon lit the way to her home, Slowly she crossed the yard, coming to stand at the doorway and then looking in. An oil lamp was buring in the corner. From its golden glow she could see Arrem sitting on the packed earth floor, her head resting on her arm, which in turn rested on the bed. She was fast asleep. Her father was sitting on a stool near the wall, standing watch, staring at the occupant of the bed. He was smiling.

Lillum went up to the bed and looked down into dark brown eyes that looked up into hers.
“I’d like you to meet your brother Hareb,” her mother told her as she lifted up the tiny infant for Lillum to see.
“Hareb,” Lillum whisperd as she gently stroked a waving fist.
When Hareb ignored them, nuzzling a clenched fist into a toothless mouth, Lillum realised just how tired she felt. As little Hareb enjoyed the comfort of his mother’s arms, Lillum retreated to her father’s lap, and contented with the world, fell asleep.
© Copyright 2008 Alan Philps (anglophile at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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