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.That’s probably smart.Talking always seems to get me into trouble.My husband doesn’t even hear me anymore.Don’t get yourself a husband, girl, if you don’t need one.They’re nothing but trouble.If I’da been able to sit on that council myself, I never woulda married him, but women can’t do much around here but hold rifles and boss their husbands.Let’s get going or Belen is gonna have my hide.Give me your arm.”The woman grabbed my arm and hobbled along beside me.She used the rifle for a walking stick on the other side.Her flared skirt brushed against my leg as we walked—it sounded like the dry grasses in the field.We crossed the road and I walked her to the front of her house.She let go of my arm and grabbed the railing.Climbing slowly onto each step, and still using her rifle as a cane, she made her way up to the porch and sat heavily in her rocking chair.She waved her gun in the air and called loudly.“Over here, Belen.I caught her trying to escape.”My mouth went dry when I heard Belen’s footsteps on the hard dirt of the yard.He stood near me, next to me, but not close.“Where you been, girl?” he said.I untied the veil from around my neck and draped it over my head.The fabric softened my view of Djala’s porch, blurring the spots on her shirt and turning the world hazy.“She visited them freaks over at the tree house.She sneaked by me on the way down, but I caught her on the way back.”Belen grabbed me by the hair and dragged me over the bumpy grass to the back of the house, where he threw me into the lean-to with such force that I tripped and went down hard.I sprawled over the blanket and held my hands over my ears, waiting for the next blow, but instead the light narrowed and disappeared as Belen slammed the door shut.I stayed on the floor for many minutes, willing myself not to cry, and escaping in my head to a place beside our creek where I liked to sit when I needed to be alone.In that place, the sun shone on my shoulders, the frogs grumped in the reeds by my feet, the dragonflies hovered over the pond, and my balance was restored.As I lay in the lean-to, I willed myself to find that balance, to return to a place that was warm and safe, but it took me many minutes to build that calm.When I finally felt as though I wouldn’t cry, scream or bang my fists against the wood slats of my shelter, the sun had disappeared and I had, once again, failed to bake any bread or to please Belen.The next day, Djala again held my arm with one hand and the rifle as a cane with the other.We hobbled down the street, following the roaring truck, to the store where I was to purchase more milk for the yogurt culture and more eggs for breakfast.I didn’t have the money, Djala did, and even if they had given it to me, I wouldn’t have known how to use it.Were three big coins a lot for a loaf of bread or a little?We joined students on their way to school, mothers on their way to various chores and men on their way to work.As we hobbled along, many said hello to Djala, but they acted as if I were nothing more than a crutch.I had been nervous around Belen in the morning, but he’d looked over my left shoulder and told me about the items I needed to purchase at the store.“The bread,” he said.“Today.”I had never been in a store before.We entered through a door that had thick metal bars running from the top to the ground.Inside, a woman stood behind a counter and tapped loudly on a machine in front of her.She watched us as we walked beside shelves full of foods in boxes, foods in packages, foods in cans.I had never heard of half of these foods.What was chili? What were energy drinks and fruit roll-ups? We shuffled to an enormous refrigerator with jugs of milk, eggs and cheese lining its shelves.Such plenty and choice in one place.There was a shelf with packaged loaves of bread, which Djala pointed out to me, but she said in a low voice, “Don’t eat that crap—nothing to it.Your mother’s bread had taste and texture.Bake something with substance, not this tasteless garbage.”At the counter we placed our items next to the machine, and the woman punched in numbers and told us what we owed.Djala handed over the money while I looked at the sign on the wall.SWINC Market [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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