A NOVEL SET IN PREHISTORY
The Oak People
Chapter 7: Bo tries to protect Ansa
Bo
Bo wakes to the purring of the Salt Water and sand in her wet hair. After swimming in the waves they had all fallen asleep, and now the day is growing old. A low bank of cloud hangs on the horizon and they still have to find the place where the dark rocks lie littered on the sand like huge discarded flints. All along the shoreline, the Salt Water is drawing back, leaving a smooth wet expanse.
Bo’s belly is complaining but there is nothing to eat. They set off in the direction Koldo is pointing and soon they see the first of the black humps, shining wet in the waning light. Her tiredness forgotten, Bo breaks into a run. The first rock is bare but there is another further on that looks hopeful. She shouts to the others.
This rock is like a dark breast, clustered with grey shell nipples. Bo drops to her knees and feels inside her bag for the scraper. She sets to work at once, knocking the nefafa from the rock, one by one, and tossing them into the bag. The snail creatures cling to the rock with surprising strength but the sharp lip of the tool breaks the suction between rock and soft flesh.
Bo stops to rest. Koldo’s wife, Gashi, is coming across the sand to join her. They work together steadily, moving from rock to rock, till their bags are full. By now, Eshtu is a huge red ball, disappearing into the Salt Water.
Bo looks around in the failing light. The others are still working. ‘Shall we go back?’
Gashi nods and stands up to stretch. She is tall like Ansa, but heavier and stronger, from carrying children. They hoist the bags once more over their shoulders and set off back to the camp. An ache is spreading across Bo’s back and the wet, sandy bag rubs a sore on her bare skin, but she tries to keep up.
‘You are strong, for a girl your age,’ Gashi says, and Bo feels the flush of pleasure rising up her neck. ‘Any man will be glad to take you, when the time comes.’
In the failing light, it is hard to make out the place in the dunes they had chosen for their camp.
‘Can you see any smoke?’ Gashi asks.
Bo spots a thin grey wisp rising from behind the sandy ridge. She crosses the beach and, with the last of her strength, toils up the sandhill, her feet sinking deep at each step. She is dizzy, the nefafa heavy on her shoulder. Soon now, she will be able to eat.
But there is only one figure in the hollow. Ansa is lying curled up, asleep, against the far slope. A small fire is burning in a makeshift hearth on the sandy floor, but it is almost spent. Where is the wood, to feed the fire? Where are Gashi’s boys?
Bo dumps her bag down — disappointment flooding through her body. There is no ashpit for cooking the shellfish. There is hardly even a cooking fire and Ansa is lying asleep. What has she been doing?
Running down the slope and dropping onto her knees, Bo prods Ansa hard. ‘Wake up! Gashi’s coming!’
Ansa opens her eyes and sits up slowly, her mouth widening in a slow yawn.
‘Where are the boys? Have you sent them to get more wood?’
The urgency in Bo’s voice seems to haul Ansa back from the land of sleep. ‘I made a fire,’ she says.
Bo looks at the hopelessly small blaze. ‘That’s no good. We need a heap of ash. Get up!’
Before Ansa has time to move, they hear the sand sighing as it gives way around Gashi’s feet. She is standing on the crest of the dune, a dark shape against the pale blue of the evening sky. She says nothing but half runs, half slides down the slope. Crossing to the meagre hearth, she lays down her bag, then turns to Ansa.
‘Where are Tipi and Iban?’ she asks, her voice like ice.
‘I expect they’ve gone to get more wood,’ Bo intervenes, breathless. She turns to Ansa: ‘haven’t they?’
Ansa hangs her head. ‘They wanted to swim again.’
Gashi just stares as Ansa gets to her feet and stumbles over to the fire. Taking up a stick, she tries to coax the small flames into life.
‘They are only children,’ Gashi says, her voice low but full of contempt. ‘You cannot let yourself be ruled by them.’
‘I’ll go and get some wood,’ Bo blurts out, hardly able to bear Ansa’s humiliation.
Just then, they hear squealing laughter and the boys appear, out of breath, at the top of the sandhill. They are dripping wet.
‘Ama!’ the younger one cries, stumbling down the hill to his mother. ‘I beat Tipi! I got back first!’
Gashi smiles and brushes the hair back from her son’s face. Then she turns to his brother. ‘Tipi — you should have known better — there’s no wood for the fire.’
Bo grabs the smaller boy’s hand and begins to climb out of the hollow, calling to the other. ‘Come on, let’s see how much wood we can find before the others get back.’
Thank you for reading. You can find Chapter 8 here
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