Read Online The New Moon's Arms by Nalo Hopkinson - Free Book Online
Authors: Nalo Hopkinson
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blue, knowing that it would be all right, that she would rise up again, and her friend would make sure she was safe.
What she hit was not water, but an outcropping of rock that was hidden just below the surface of the sea. The impact was brutal. Her whole body electrified with the shock of it; a jangling that made thought, even breath, impossible. Chastity didn’t know what happened from that moment until she awoke high up on the shore, well out of the way of the tide, in the lee of the sea grape bushes. Mumma was touching her shoulder and calling out her name. Mumma was crying softly. Chastity tried to lift her head, but the thrashing pain behind her eyes made her lay it back down onto the sand.
“Oh, God, God,” her mother moaned. “She wake up. Chastity, you all right? What happened to you?”
“Where’s the little girl?” Chastity whispered. She turned her head despite the pain.
“We have to get you to hospital,” Mumma said. She bent and picked Chastity up.
Weakly, Chastity held on around her mother’s neck. “Where’s the little girl?” she asked again. “The little blue girl.”
Her mother was hurrying towards the house. “Where your clothes, child? What you were doing?”
“I fell,” Chastity told her. Better not to say that she’d jumped. “Off that big rock.” She pointed at one of the large climbing rocks that were all over the beach.
“After I told you not to come and play down by the water by yourself!”
But she hadn’t been by herself. The little girl had been with her.
“I only turned my back for two-twos!”
Chastity whispered, “My head hurts.” She looked over her mother’s shoulder. There were footprints in the sand. They disappeared at the water line.
There was something on her head. Chastity put her hand up to her forehead and pulled at the thing she found there. Her head hurt so much! Through half-closed eyes, she looked at what was in her hand: seaweed, loosely braided into a bandage. Its shiny brown leaves were bloody. It had been tied around her head, covering the big gash she could feel above her ear. Chastity probed the gash with her fingers, which came away sticky with her own blood. That was when she finally felt frightened, and clung to her mother, and started to cry.
At the hospital, they said she had a mild concussion. They wouldn’t let her sleep all that night. Every time she was descending into blessed rest, a nurse or Dadda or Mumma would shake her awake. Her memories of that night were mostly of exhaustion, and crying, begging to be allowed to sleep. Towards morning, delirious with fatigue, she began to talk about the yellow girl with blue-y skin, and about the lobster that had wanted to eat her toes. She remembered Dadda, haggard from lack of sleep himself, whispering to her mother, “Hallucinations. Poor thing.” The hospital let her parents take her home that day, and she slept and slept until sunrise next morning. Her parents grounded her from the beach for a week, and forbade her to ever take her clothes off when she was outside in the open.
She never saw the yellow-blue brown girl again.
2
T HE SUN DROVE BRIGHT SPLINTERS OF LIGHT THROUGH my half-open lids. “Ow! Shit.” I snapped my eyes shut again. Blind, I took stock. From the feel of rough stone under me, I was lying on the rock on the beach. Don’t tell me I passed out there drunk last night. How I could do something so stupid? Suppose the tide had come up and swept me away?
It was certainly no longer night. The sun’s heat was searing my thighs and the side of my face. My mouth tasted like I’d been eating carrion. Hot buttered carrion. A kettle-drum orchestra was playing in my head. Off-key. My belly served me notice that it was disgusted with my behaviour, and that it was about to violently register its protest. I rolled onto my stomach just in time to puke over the side of the rock. The taste and smell were awful. Everything was awful. On my stomach, I rested my head back
What she hit was not water, but an outcropping of rock that was hidden just below the surface of the sea. The impact was brutal. Her whole body electrified with the shock of it; a jangling that made thought, even breath, impossible. Chastity didn’t know what happened from that moment until she awoke high up on the shore, well out of the way of the tide, in the lee of the sea grape bushes. Mumma was touching her shoulder and calling out her name. Mumma was crying softly. Chastity tried to lift her head, but the thrashing pain behind her eyes made her lay it back down onto the sand.
“Oh, God, God,” her mother moaned. “She wake up. Chastity, you all right? What happened to you?”
“Where’s the little girl?” Chastity whispered. She turned her head despite the pain.
“We have to get you to hospital,” Mumma said. She bent and picked Chastity up.
Weakly, Chastity held on around her mother’s neck. “Where’s the little girl?” she asked again. “The little blue girl.”
Her mother was hurrying towards the house. “Where your clothes, child? What you were doing?”
“I fell,” Chastity told her. Better not to say that she’d jumped. “Off that big rock.” She pointed at one of the large climbing rocks that were all over the beach.
“After I told you not to come and play down by the water by yourself!”
But she hadn’t been by herself. The little girl had been with her.
“I only turned my back for two-twos!”
Chastity whispered, “My head hurts.” She looked over her mother’s shoulder. There were footprints in the sand. They disappeared at the water line.
There was something on her head. Chastity put her hand up to her forehead and pulled at the thing she found there. Her head hurt so much! Through half-closed eyes, she looked at what was in her hand: seaweed, loosely braided into a bandage. Its shiny brown leaves were bloody. It had been tied around her head, covering the big gash she could feel above her ear. Chastity probed the gash with her fingers, which came away sticky with her own blood. That was when she finally felt frightened, and clung to her mother, and started to cry.
At the hospital, they said she had a mild concussion. They wouldn’t let her sleep all that night. Every time she was descending into blessed rest, a nurse or Dadda or Mumma would shake her awake. Her memories of that night were mostly of exhaustion, and crying, begging to be allowed to sleep. Towards morning, delirious with fatigue, she began to talk about the yellow girl with blue-y skin, and about the lobster that had wanted to eat her toes. She remembered Dadda, haggard from lack of sleep himself, whispering to her mother, “Hallucinations. Poor thing.” The hospital let her parents take her home that day, and she slept and slept until sunrise next morning. Her parents grounded her from the beach for a week, and forbade her to ever take her clothes off when she was outside in the open.
She never saw the yellow-blue brown girl again.
2
T HE SUN DROVE BRIGHT SPLINTERS OF LIGHT THROUGH my half-open lids. “Ow! Shit.” I snapped my eyes shut again. Blind, I took stock. From the feel of rough stone under me, I was lying on the rock on the beach. Don’t tell me I passed out there drunk last night. How I could do something so stupid? Suppose the tide had come up and swept me away?
It was certainly no longer night. The sun’s heat was searing my thighs and the side of my face. My mouth tasted like I’d been eating carrion. Hot buttered carrion. A kettle-drum orchestra was playing in my head. Off-key. My belly served me notice that it was disgusted with my behaviour, and that it was about to violently register its protest. I rolled onto my stomach just in time to puke over the side of the rock. The taste and smell were awful. Everything was awful. On my stomach, I rested my head back
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