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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/994102-Daughter-of-Water
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #994102
Active indecision forces a woman to face her life
  Warmth enveloped her, trying to caress her marble body into movement.  Water spouted from her mouth, from a head staring fixedly at the sky.  She could feel the water pooling around her bare legs, tickling her toes, teasing her to move, but she could not.  Meredith was an isolated fountain, half crouching in a circular little pool in her own essence, bare to world.  Her upturned palms beseeched the sky, but offered nothing in return.
         Her limited perspective allowed her to see that she was in a small clearing in a forest, a semi circle of meadow surrounding her.  She could make out hazelnut and blossoming apple trees, along with many other familiar types, and some she couldn‘t name.  Everything she could see was alive with spring.  Large and small clusters of wild flowers grew sporadically, though their scent was lost on her useless nose.
         “So now my lungs know how to breathe water, yet my body has turned to stone,” she thought wryly.  “At least my thoughts are capable of movement.” 
         Meredith saw a white robed figure approaching through the trees, its long auburn hair swirling gently with the gauzy fabric of  its clothing.  No, not “its.”  Her clothing.  The figure was slim and the face was childlike, but she was definitely female and no child.  As the lady meandered closer to Meredith, she paused to place her palms on the trunks of trees, a maple here, an oak there.  She knelt to cup the blooms of plentiful
flowers, moving on to caress the next.  She left trails of heightened colors in her wake.  Her hips swayed with the breeze, and Meredith could just make out the lady humming.
         The lady came to kneel outside the stone ring of Meredith’s pond.  She continued humming, and swirled delicate fingers through the water.  The swirling turned to a circular motion, radiating ripples out toward Meredith’s knees.  She started to tingle, the sensation starting at her toes and spreading up to her torso.  She could almost wiggle her toes, or maybe she imagined it.  The lady cupped her hands into the water and sipped, then rose as if to frolic away.
         Panicked, Meredith tried to ask her to stay, but water just continued to bubble out of her mouth.  The lady walked a few steps, and knelt again by the pool.  Her eyes glanced up to meet Meredith’s stony gaze, seeming to notice her for the first time.  Raising her hands to her lips again, she blew lightly and a ball of light appeared, which she sat atop the water, sending out it to orbit Meredith.  Each loop around her brought more flesh-like feelings back into Meredith’s statuesque body. 
         The lady’s humming took on a more articulate quality, and slowly Meredith began to make out words.  “She changes everything she touches.  Everything she touches, changes,” the lady sang.
         The tingling Meredith had felt in her toes intensified into pulsating vibrancy in her entire body, her soul.  She felt the stone meld back into muscle, the water returned to air and she breathed deeply.  Her legs burned from the half crouch, from the vibrations, and the light.  To stay crouching was impossible, and she stood and stretched, sighing, only to find herself at once kneeling again before the lady.
         The lady smiled, beaming joy at Meredith.  “Rise, Sister.  I am Bane.  Play with me!”  Bane encircled Meredith’s hand with her own, and tried to skip away.
         
         “Where am I?” Meredith spoke experimentally, after allowing herself to be swept away for a couple dozen steps.
         “Why, you are here sister.  I have awakened you.  Come with me!”  Bane tugged her down to examine a flower she recognized as spiderwort.  After cupping it with her delicate fingers and brushing it with a kiss, she plucked it and tucked it behind Meredith’s ear.  “Beautiful,” she said, admiring her work.  Meredith felt the liquid gently oozing from the stem of the flower, behind her ear and down her neck.
         “Bane, before I was the fountain, I was just a woman.  I dove into the water, and I woke as a statue.  I just wanted to breathe water.”
         Banes chiming giggle made Meredith feel silly for voicing such mundane concerns.  “Of course you would want to breath water.  And now you are here.  Welcome.  Let’s dance, sister.”  Lacing their fingers together, Meredith felt the need to understand slipping away, and she allowed Bane to lead her through the meadow.  They laughed, skipping and swirling until they reached the edge of the tree line.
         “Feel the trees,” Bane said as they stopped underneath a hazelnut tree.  “Rest your hands on their bark and feel their story.  Their scent is earth.  Feel their love!”  Meredith lay her palms and her cheek against the trunk.  She stood there, and after a short time, something filled her.  She could feel an ebb and flow of what she could only describe as love circuited between her and the ancient tree.  They shared their secrets.
         Together, Bane and Meredith continued to meander through the woods, communing with the plants as they went.  A thought pushed its way into Meredith’s mind.  “My grandmother would call this witchcraft,” she thought with a smile and pushed the thought from her mind.  Maybe it was.  Meredith had never experienced such happiness.  Banes joy seemed to saturate everything it touched, filling the lonely spaces in Meredith’s soul.  She knew her smile must match that of Bane‘s. 
         Through the woods, they reached another clearing.  Meredith saw a vast garden spread out before her, vegetables mingling with flowers, cultivated rather than wild.  Strolling serenely around curving rows was a tall woman wearing a baby in a sling at her front.  Her long dark hair was braided past her waist.  She looked up from her reverie and raised a hand in welcome.
         “Sister, you are about to meet Brigette.  She is wonderful to talk to, but far too serious,” Bane said.
         “She’s beautiful,” was all Meredith could manage.  She could feel rational thoughts surfacing again at the sight of the woman.  The woman made her feel grounded, earthy.  Suddenly, Meredith realized that she was still clad in nothing, and wrapped her hair around herself in a vain attempt to cover her bare body.  She hadn’t noticed it with Bane, now she couldn’t forget.
         “I’m going back to my meadow now, sister.  Brigette works very hard tending her gardens, but that is not for me today.  Hold me in your heart.  We will meet again.”  With that, Bane was already swaying back toward her flowers and trees as Brigette approached.
         “Hello, Meredith.  I am Brigette.  If you are feeling so uncomfortable in your skin, clothe yourself.  Just imagine it and it shall be.  Have you eaten, daughter?  No, of course not,” she said.  “Come sit with me in my gardens.”  Brigette bent to retrieve a bundle from the ground, and walked along, picking a few strawberries and sugar snap peas until she reached a satisfactory spot in the meticulous garden, Meredith trailing behind. 
         How could she just wish herself into clothing?  She tried a few times, to imagine herself clothed as Brigette in her gauzy dress, but she couldn’t form the image.  She had just resolved that she would just continue on in her skin and hair, and felt her scalp tingle.  Her hair was growing!  She looked down to see her locks growing down from their accustomed shoulder blade length, down past her hips and to her knees.  At her shoulders, the strands wove themselves loosely to become a tunic of her own hair.  This would have to do.  Brigette was continuing down the path, and Meredith quickened her step to walk beside her.   
         Brigette sat, unpacking her bundle, and spread the cloth on the ground, beckoning Meredith to sit.  She untied the knot in the wrap holding her baby, and sat the plump baby in Meredith’s lap.  Not knowing exactly what to do, Meredith stroked its wispy hair.  The baby looked up at her and cooed softly.  Brigette produced a small loaf of crusty bread, a jar of what looked like red wine, and laid the berries and vegetables out beside it.  She broke a small piece of bread off for Meredith and nudged the wine in her direction.  Brigette broke off a piece of bread for herself, then reached toward her baby.  She pulled down the top of her lose red dress, baring a full breast, and positioned her baby to drink.
         Feeling a little awkward and not knowing what else to do, Meredith nibbled at the bread and a few berries, and took a few sips of wine.  The wine warmed her from the inside and she was surprised to find that she was quite hungry.  Brigette ate her own meal, glancing lovingly down at her suckling baby.  When the baby was full, it abruptly pulled away from its mother’s breast to turn a coy grin at Meredith.  Brigette placed the baby on her tummy on the cloth, and turned her attention to Meredith.
         
         “I’m vigilant in my efforts to keep my garden healthy, “ Brigette began.  “I work the ground with my bare hands; I pull the weeds that would choke out my plants’ lives.  I stand sentinel against the crows who would destroy my corn unthinking.  If they ask, I will share, but I will not let them mindlessly destroy my work.  Have you been neglecting your garden, daughter?”
         Puzzled, Meredith did not know how to respond.  She kept no gardens.  Brigette must have seen that she didn’t understand, and she continued.  “Your garden is your creativity, your life’s canvas.  Your crows and your weeds are anything you leave untended, dear.  Helpful in their own right for creating balance, but left unchecked, they can be devastating.”
         Meredith thought she understood, as she reflected.  She knew fear held her back in life.  Sometimes she was paralyzed from taking even the first step, in fear that she may never find what she was searching for, or that it could be ripped away.  She second-guessed herself into silence.  Comparing herself to the women around her only made it worse.  They were embracing what they wanted most.  They exercised their bodies and their minds.  They had children to teach and care for.  They had their soul mate husbands to explore life with.  They had sisters to laugh with.  The more Meredith thought, the more she wondered if she even had a garden to tend, or if it had already been over run with her own self doubt.
         A silky white cat came strolling by, maybe smelling the food that had so rudely not been offered.  Its saunter brought it near the squirming baby.  The baby reached out her fat feet, struggling to wiggle her toes in the soft fur, giggling.  Meredith was reminded of hours spent as a child with her sister, waiting for unicorns.  They were sure that if they waited long enough, quiet enough, at a hedge or under a willow tree that a unicorn would appear to them.  Unicorns were supposed to show themselves to young girls who believed in them.  Meredith had longed to run her fingers down a corn silk mane, to ride it bareback through idyllic meadows.  Unicorns materialized in her dreams, but never in life, though she never quit hoping. 
         Tears welled in Meredith’s eyes at the sweetness of the moment, at the bliss in baby’s eyes as her toes squirmed through the purring cat’s fur.  Maybe her sister now rode unicorns, and braided ribbons through their tails.
         “Meredith, there is such sadness in you.  I would take it unto myself if I could, but you have to find your own strength,” Brigette said, clasping Meredith’s hand.  She brought their hands to Meredith’s heart, and they sat quietly for a while, listening to gentle breezes, feeling the tinkling giggles of the babe.  Slowly, the melancholy of the moment faded, leaving only serenity. 
         Meredith finally spoke.  “Brigette, I’ve always felt drawn to water.  Felt that it could transform me, and wash away that which I could not deal with.  I breathed water, and now I am here.”
         “Yes, daughter, you are here.  You have escaped your reality, for now.  Is this your journey’s end?”  Brigette asked.
         “Yes, yes, I want to stay.  Please let me stay.  I can dance with Bane, help you tend your garden.  She taught me to commune with the plants.  I can teach your baby when she grows.  She can be my sister.  Fear does not exist here, I can feel life all around me.  I want to stay!”  Meredith felt almost hysterical.
         “Only you can create fear, Daughter.  I know someone else you need to meet.  Follow me.”  Brigette stood, rewrapping the baby to herself, and began to walk away from Meredith, toward another wooded area, away from Bane’s meadows and Brigette’s gardens.
         Her mind was spinning as she quietly followed yet another mysterious woman through the woods.  Who were these women?  Maybe the elusive Goddesses she had read so much about lately were appearing to her.  She didn’t understand how she had come to be here.  She remembered walking into the river for a swim, and surrendering to the current after it became too strong.  How then was she transformed into a statue, and why?  Was she dead?  No, her senses were raging.  She felt more alive than she could ever remember.  Breezes tickled her hair woven garment against her skin, and she could taste the scent of damp forest on her tongue.  Besides assuming that Brigette intended to send her back to wherever her reality was from here, Meredith’s usual knot of anxiety was missing, as if maybe she would never have to reclaim it.
         As they continued on through the grove of trees, Meredith noticed the undergrowth getting thicker and wilder.  The path sloped downward at an uncomfortable angle, so that Meredith had to walk a little sideways to keep from sliding.  The ancient trees seemed taller, and definitely grew closer together, creating the sense that night was coming, but Meredith had no way to know for sure.  The path became gradually more overgrown, and she found herself tripping over exposed roots and stones, occasionally snagging her hair tunic on an outstretched branch.  At least the path was starting to slope less.
         Ahead, she saw a dark figure standing in the middle of the path.  It wore a black, cowled robe and stood like a statue.  Suddenly, anxiety and fear slowed her steps. 

Death was standing in the path.  No, this was not what she intended.  She didn’t want to die!          
         “I leave you now, Daughter.  We will meet again.”  Meredith clutched at Brigette.
         “No, don’t leave me now!  Why would you bring me so far to abandon me?  I told you I wanted to stay with you.”  Meredith was shrieking.
         “You are letting your fear overwhelm you.  Open your eyes.  Everything is not what it appears.”  Brigette embraced Meredith, then held her at arms length, smiled, turned, and walked away up the path.
         The figure was moving toward her, and Meredith could now make out white hair peaking out under the black robe, outlining a plump female form.  The woman came to stop only a foot from her, and Meredith could not raise her eyes to meet what she knew must be death.
         “I am Anise.  How is it that you have come to us?” she asked, as if already knowing the answer.
         “I went for a swim in the river.  I gave in to the current.  I breathed water.  It made sense to me at the time.”  Meredith’s voice was as weak as her explanation.
         “You went to the river knowing full well that you didn’t intend to emerge alive.  You cannot breathe water in your reality.  Are you going to let your fantasy world destroy your life?    Why must you always try to escape?”  Anise’s words were hard to Meredith, and she could feel the unseen scrutinizing eyes bearing into her.  “Follow me in silence.”
         Everything came flooding back to her.  She could see herself, standing at the head of a hallway, staring down it, sweating and unable to take a step.  She saw herself walking straight past the only male who’d ever understood her, with downcast eyes and slumped shoulders.  Let him make of it what he would.  Why bother?  She saw herself lying in bed, knowing she was going to lose yet another job if she didn’t get up.  The lose of her sister, her sweet sister, was crushing her chest, as if she was still a little girl with fresh loss.  “It’s too much.  It’s just too much,” she thought.  Fear gripped her, and the trees were reaching down to claim her.  Let them.  The weight of her thoughts collapsed her, and she sank to her knees, and crouched there with her head down, sobbing.
         Time was suspended, and Meredith didn’t know how long she was left alone with her sobs and the outstretched hands of the trees, but suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up into the dark pools that were the eyes of Anise.  She no longer looked threatening, only a wizened grandmother with a stern but caring look on her face.  “You can make it a bit farther, Meredith.  I will walk beside you,” Anise said, and walked beside Meredith as she crawled, continuing down the path. 
         Finally, the darkened path led them into another clearing, still over shadowed by the trees.  The clearing was filled with a large pond, and its waters looked black in the darkness.  Meredith crawled to the bank, and sat, trying to draw strength back into herself.  She wished for Bane’s laughs and Meredith’s confidence to be with her now, but only Anise remained, real and severe.
         “You can leave all the pain behind, Meredith.  You’ve suffered enough.  Unpack your burdens here so they don’t drag you down into the deepest water. Embrace the life that has been given to you, that we have given you.  Wrap yourself with what you’ve experienced here, and hold us close.  Daughter of water, return through water.  Remember.”
         Slowly, Meredith felt some vibrancy returning to her spent body.  She knew what she must do.  She took a deep breath, and dived into the pond.
         She came back into herself, laying prostate on a bar of sand at the edge of the river.  She turned to her side to expel the water from her lungs with the core of her will.  She drew as deeply as she could of the air surrounding her as she crawled up the shallow bank of the river, gasping.  Her journey had only just begun, and she would see it through
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