Saturday, the Twelfth of October by Norma Fox Mazer

Author:Norma Fox Mazer [Mazer, Norma Fox]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781939601322
Publisher: IG Publishing

Chapter 18

“Meezzan. Meezzan.” Zan slowly opened her eyes. It was morning, and Burrum was whispering in her ear. Zan looked toward the cave entrance, framed by trees. Was it hot outside? Raining? Foggy? Inside the cave, the temperature was always the same, day and night. Ah, the sun was shining. She stretched sleepily. When was the last time she woke, her stomach jerking in panic, as she stared at the stone walls of the cave? She couldn’t remember. She only knew she no longer felt uneasy about the cave, the countless rooms, tunnels, and corridors that wound deep into the mountain. Children were never allowed to wander into those areas. It was said that long ago two little babies had been lost there and never found. Even now, on some still nights, the Auuhmaa said she could hear their Tariana crying. “Those poor babies kept me awake!” she said, after a sleepless night, and she reached to hug Lasba, her smallest grandbaby.

In general the adults showed little interest in the depths of the cave, but Foomia, Burrum’s young uncle, had a passion for exploring. He’d take a torch and disappear for hours. Once, Zan and Burrum had gone a short way with him. The walls rose in places higher than the torchlight could reach. There was the gurgle of distant water and the rustling of bats. Zan had wanted to go on with Foomia, but Burrum had been uninterested. Half asleep, Zan’s mind drifted into those dark passageways again . . . bats . . . and . . . a deep chasm . . . she was falling . . .

“Meezzan, don’t go to sleep again!” Burrum shook her. “Meezzan, my blood has come!” The girl pointed to her thighs, which seemed to be smeared with juice. There was a hollow feeling in Zan’s chest. Burrum had spoken often of the Sussuru, of her longing to be part of it, of her disappointment that her blood had not come down yet. And Zan had confided her own disappointment. “Ahh, Burrum,” she said sleepily, “I am happy for you.”

Now Farwe woke and was told the news. She hugged her daughter repeatedly. As Burrum’s father, uncles and aunts woke, they, too, were told. The bedding where Burrum had slept was thrown off to a dark unused part of the cave, and fresh leaves were brought in. “Today you go to the Women’s Stream,” Ainu said. “Yes, you go to the Women’s Stream!” She took Burrum by both arms and danced around with her.

Burrum sat down, out of breath, laughing and fanning her face. “When I was a little girl and went with my mother to the Women’s Stream, how I longed to go by myself!”

“And now you will,” Aunt Mai’bu said, holding little Lasba to her breast to suck.

“Yes,” Burrum said. “Yes!” Then to Zan, “One eats only fruit there and bathes in the stream and talks with the other women.”

“I remember when my blood came down for the first time,” Farwe said.

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