Farewell, Four Waters by Kate McCord

Author:Kate McCord [McCord, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-8024-9121-3
Publisher: Moody Publishers
Published: 2014-11-22T16:00:00+00:00

19

The narrow path turned steeply upward along the hill face and disappeared again on the far side of yet another ridge. Marie leaned into the hillside, her sense of balance confused by the sloping plains of terrain. At the far side of the second ridge, the path again cut upward. Above her, three wide two-story buildings sat on a shelf of land cut into the hillside. In front of the second building, there was a long narrow porch covered by an overhanging mud roof. Above the porch, a row of large windows sealed in glass faced the valley.

Between the first and second house, a four-bay, one-story barn opened to a circular, nearly level field where three gray donkeys and two skinny brown milk cows grazed. A low, rounded wall separated the field from a grove of fruit trees, their leaves mostly brown in the late autumn. Marie could see the tops of the trees, but their trunks were blocked by the tall, arcing mud-brick wall. In the land of straight walls, the rounded contours of Bibi-jan’s walls surprised her.

Marie followed the boy through a wooden gate that led to the orchard. She breathed the dark, warm scent of rotting leaves and looked around at the small, densely planted trees. This family has money and workers, she thought. A creek cascaded nearby, but she couldn’t see it.

She stepped through the back gate of the orchard, found herself in a narrow alleyway between two tall walls, and followed the boy toward the left, then through yet another wooden gate, this time entering the courtyard of the house. Before her, the wide mud-roofed porch welcomed her.

Marie heard a deep, familiar, raspy voice call out to her.

“You have become late. Where have you been?” Bibi-jan stood in an open casement window on the second floor.

“Salaam alaikum, Bibi-jan.” Marie put her hand on her heart and asked all the obligatory Afghan greeting questions. “How are you? How are your children? How is your family? How is your health?”

Bibi-jan just waved the questions away, not even bothering to respond with her own. “Welcome, welcome. You have become late. Where have you been?”

Marie jammed her walking stick into the soft mud beneath her feet. “A long time ago, there were roads, but the water came and swept them away. Now, they are slowly returning.”

Bibi-jan threw her head back in playful mockery. “The road became lost. You should have brought it back with you. We have been waiting. We have become tired of watching the road.”

Marie opened her hands wide. “I have come. See. I am here.”

The older woman stood straight up in the window, pressed the heel of her hand into her thick hip, and called out a challenge: “Where’s our class?”

“If I tell you will you welcome me?”

Bibi-jan threw her head back and laughed. Her belly shook in rhythm, and Marie knew she’d made a new friend.

“Come. Drink tea. If there is a class, tell me.”

Marie scanned the face of the house. She saw a young woman standing to the right of the porch, just inside the shadow of the barn.

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