The Ghostwriter's Words

Sara: The Morning After

The morning after Sammy discovered her beneath the waterfall, Sara woke to find her still naked, now sex-stained, and scented body draped over his. She smelled a pungent ripeness poignantly different from even that of a hot summer's week of spreading manure over their garden. She was sore in places she'd never been before, acutely aware of those she'd never been so aware of before, and was uncertain how much of what she remembered from the night before had been real or only a wonderful dream. If she'd only been dreaming, she wanted to close her eyes again, hoping that dream returned and she'd never wake from it. She stroked her fingers down Sammy's naked chest, reassuring herself that at least his physical presence was real and that she was now awake.

Sammy appeared to have been waiting for her to open her eyes for some time. He smiled, seemingly uncertain, but gently stroked his hand across her cheek and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...." She remembered multiple apologies during the night. He told her, "I'm terrified at the thought of speaking with your mother this morning. What can I tell her? Sorry, I deflowered and defiled your daughter?"

Sara wasn't sure what 'deflowered' or 'defiled' meant but was sure her mother would be happy for her, and Sammy should have no concern. Her mother had told her; Sammy was a good man. And now, neither Sara nor her mother had further reason to worry about that awful man Sara's father had wanted to be her husband because Sara could only have one. She'd spent the night in Sammy's bed and did things Sammy agreed husbands and wives did. She thought that might have been her mother's plan.

Did it matter that she'd come to his bed rather than be taken?

As she and Sammy walked from the waterfall and along the beach the evening before, she did her best to explain what had transpired at home. She'd told Sammy, "My father found a husband for me and was happy finally having one less mouth to feed. When my mother objected, he told her, 'Shut your mouth. This is none of your business.' My mother seldom speaks back to my father, but she insisted, 'It is my business,' which earned her a slap across her face and the threat of worse. Seeing my mother's agitation and distress, I asked what was wrong, risking a slap myself.

"Ducking away from my father's reach, my mother yelled, 'Run, Sara! You need to run before that awful man takes you home and to his bed.'

"But my father blocked the door and told me the only way I'd leave was with the man he'd chosen to be my husband or with nothing but what I brought into this world the day I was born," and that was why she was naked when Sammy found her beneath the waterfall.

"Yes," Sammy agreed with an obvious display of relief after Sara explained that if that dreadful man had taken her to his bed, he would be her husband, and she would be the awful man's wife. The logical conclusion prompted him to tell her, "If that is your custom and it will make things right with your mother, father, and you, then I will claim you as my wife, which means all that is mine is now yours."

Sara responded, "There is no need to make things right with my father. I am dead to him, and he is dead to me. And I'm happy to be your wife and do everything we did as often as you want, as often as we can, since, as you told me, you have your limitations, even if I don't. And my mother will be happy because I'm happy."

Sara didn't understand all they'd done, or what to call it, only that it had been wonderful, and she was glowingly happy.

Sara's mother didn't appear as usual at Sammy's home, and now Sara's, that morning, nor for several mornings to follow. Sara finally grew concerned and asked Sammy to check on her, and he'd returned a short time later with Sara's mother, who'd been savagely beaten and required urgent medical attention. Deep, discolored bruises covered her mother's face and much of her body after Sara helped her from her blood-stained clothes and into one of Eve's robes.