Dalila by Jason Donald

Author:Jason Donald
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House

From within the folds of sleep, Dalila hears keys in the lock. The front door closes and the security chain is slid into place. Ma’aza is in the flat, Dalila thinks, and her thoughts are so stark she wonders if she spoke them aloud.

The faint voice of the TV whispers down the hallway. Dalila tries to move but her body drags with heaviness, as though each limb is bound to her but belongs to someone else. She remembers Ma’aza coming into her room and looking down at her, yet distrusts this memory. It feels more like a wish. But when she pulls the duvet from her face she notices her light has been turned off. She heaves herself onto her bed and hides under the duvet. Curling her body around the pillow, she begins sinking down, down.

In her dream she stands in a house, staring out of the window. The sun shines orange as it sets. A great leafless tree is silhouetted on the plain. In the tree sits a dog. Its ears pointed straight up, watching the house. Higher up in the tree a hyena, stooped and powerful, stalks up behind the dog. The dog sees the hyena and leaps from one branch to another as the hyena gives chase. To the other people in her house, to her family, she says, Look. I think that dog is going to fall.

And the dog falls, yelping as it hits branches on the way down. The hyena, too, loses its footing. Both animals land badly in the dust. The hyena’s jaw snaps, only just missing as the dog scrambles to its feet. Limping and desperate, the dog runs towards the house for shelter with the hyena giving chase.

She stands at the window, watching them come.

Close the doors, she screams to her mother. Close the doors. They are coming.

But no sounds leave her throat.

There is a voice. She can’t make sense of the words. Dalila senses a person nearby.

Ma’aza tugs back the duvet covering her face. She opens the curtains, allowing a sharp light into the room.

Come, says Ma’aza. Wake up.

Dalila covers her eyes with her elbow.

For two days, you cry and sleep, says Ma’aza. This is good. Everyone makes like this when they come to the UK. Now, crying is finished.

Dalila rolls away from Ma’aza.

I will put water in the bath, says Ma’aza as she leaves the room.

A strong wind howls outside. It buffets against the window.

Water starts pouring into the bath. Dalila covers her face with her hands. The great gnawing sadness is still with her but no more tears will come.

Ma’aza returns. She sits down on the bed and says, Come, Dalila.

I want to sleep.

I know this feeling, says Ma’aza, to sleep and sleep and wish to sleep for ever. And when you wake you sit the whole day waiting for something, you don’t know what. This is a life for a plant, not a person.

Ma’aza takes Dalila’s wrist and peels her hand away from her face. Later, you can sleep.

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