Spark by Alice Broadway

Author:Alice Broadway
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Scholastic UK
Published: 2018-06-23T04:00:00+00:00

They hold the death ceremony without delay, at the following fireside. I am not squeamish about death, about the body. And I wish I could have marked Ruth’s skin, wishing my dad was here to flay her, wishing we could tan her, bind her and remember her. I am sick at the thought of her works imprinted on her soul. They say she is journeying to her final destination. But what if it’s not enough? What if she is not righteous? Can they really trust in stones and water and face death unafraid? My legs shake, for once not from hunger but from fear. I don’t know what I believe any more, but ink is in my blood and it’s hard to shake the belief that it’s the ink that saves.

What if her soul is not ready? I’m not ready.

We reach the fire and everyone is standing. I don’t take my usual place next to Gull. I want to stand at the back so I can hide. But the circle opens out for each new person and we are not standing in groups as we normally do, but as individuals. The circle is so wide that I can’t see the other side clearly. Faces wobble in the heat and I feel laid bare. I feel like an intruder.

Tears come to my eyes and I let them fall.

Music blooms from behind us and I look over my shoulder. It’s the funeral procession. Ruth didn’t have any family left, but her neighbours come up the hill, carrying a mat between them. Ruth is wrapped in white linen, the same as Fenn wore as he went into the water. Gull told me that her body will be buried tomorrow beneath the tree that Ruth called her own. The procession hums a low melody, and as they come closer the circle opens to let them in and the community joins in the tune. The bass tones make my chest feel like a bird is inside trying to beat its way out. The circle closes again and we surround the pallbearers as they place Ruth’s body on the ground.

I see tears shining on their faces. The humming continues though, through their tears. No breaking voices – in fact, the tears seem to fuel the music. Our communal mourning resonating in our chests, in our throats and heads and hearts.

Tanya steps forward, and those who carried Ruth join the circle. Tanya’s nervousness is apparent and there is heavy-hearted sorrow in her small smile. She raises her hands and the humming softens – never stopping, but quieter now, allowing her to speak over the lull.

“My friends.” She pauses and gulps back tears. “Oh, my friends. We have all been blessed to have Ruth, our eldest, with us for every day of our lives. Tomorrow will be the first sunrise we see without sharing it with Ruth, and we will have to trust that the world can keep turning without her.”

She stops, overcome. The song rises to give her space, and her shoulders shake.

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