LIFE NEAR THE BONE

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LIFE NEAR THE BONE Page 9

by Billie Sue Mosiman


  While living in the cave high up the mountain, waiting for the right moment to interact with the Spaniards, she had taught herself a valuable skill. In order to make time pass without it impinging on her conscious, she perfected a way to shut off her mind, lower her heart rate, and close off the world. She floated in a wandering way through a gray static world that was too close to the outer void, but at least it saved her energy and killed the time. That skill would be needed for such a long, difficult sea voyage.

  When she had gotten aboard the ship and sneaked below decks without the soldier guard noticing, she felt an exuberance overwhelm her senses. Free at last! On her way!

  Then when she had slipped into the hold of the ship and smelled the tang of raw wood that made up the ribs of the hull, she had to wait for her eyes to adjust to the deep gloom.

  She found the stacked crates and chests and caskets of goods, opening the lids on the ones she found unlocked until she discovered the large chest she now lay inside. It was just half full of cloth, beautiful cloth, sensuous to the touch. She fingered silks and satins and cotton so smooth it was like caressing a baby’s skin. She almost groaned with delight and clapped a hand over her mouth. She knew the Spaniards were a civilized, developed people, but to possess such exquisite treasure as this was beyond anything she expected. Not since the time of ancient Egypt had she felt such beautiful material.

  This, she decided immediately, was where she would lie hidden. This would be her berth for the long trip. Day and night she would lie upon this bed of sweet-smelling material, dreaming of one day owning dresses made from them. Silk would flow around her, satin would swath her shoulders, cotton would wrap her in its crisp arms. As she lay dreaming inside the darkness of the mighty oak chest, she would dream of a rich life, a civilized life full of gold, jewels, and the finest cloth to dress her little body. She would dream of meats in gravy and breads leavened with eggs, of roasted peppers, exotic fruits, and wine to wet her palate.

  Yes, she would be fine in the dark hold of the ship, rocking and swaying through the ocean wide. She had food to sustain her, a source of fresh water in great round caskets just down the aisle and near the stairs. She had her cushioned bed, her dreams, her desires, and the future awaiting her in a gracious land called Spain.

  She smiled into the secret dark. She was the luckiest angel in all creation.

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