Wendy McDermott was walking by a lake. It was her holiday. The sun was shining. She was happy. Her new white t-shirt and her new white jeans. Her twinkling blue eyes. Her bouncing brown hair. Her slender legs. Her long fingers. It was a nice sunny day.
There was nothing she had to do. She didn’t have to go to work. She didn’t have to ride on a crowded bus. She didn’t have to say, ‘You look nice,’ when her colleague asked about her new hair style. She didn’t have to smile at her boss when he told her that her report was full of holes that were big enough for RMS Titanic to go through. She didn’t have to say, ‘Sure,’ when snobby Jackie asked her to have lunch with her. She didn’t have to do the washing-up after supper in her small kitchen. She didn’t have to clean her room with lots of knickknacks.
There were many things she wanted to do. She wanted to drive around and park the car under a big tree and have a nap. She wanted to walk around and sit on the top of a hill and have a nap. She wanted to sleep in as long as she was pleased. She wanted to be up as late as she liked to. She wanted to watch TV if she woke up late at night without worrying about the next day.
Now she was doing one the things she wanted to: walking. A green hill was only a couple of miles ahead of her. When she climbed to the top, she would look around to admire the blue mountains far away and lie down and look up at the deep-blue sky and fall asleep. Then, she noticed somebody on the top of the hill. It was still too far to tell if the person was a man or a woman. She might have a quick chat with the person when she was up there. She hoped the person was a local and could tell her some interesting stories about the place.
The afternoon was still young. She had plenty of time to sleep. Her busy days at work were behind her. The vast sky wasn’t interrupted by tall buildings. The air wasn’t blended with exhaust fumes. The birds’ chirping wasn’t obscured by car horns. Midges flying around her face didn’t bother her.
She couldn’t peel a big smile off her face. She couldn’t stop herself from skipping sometimes. She couldn’t help inhaling deep into her lungs.
Splash!
She stepped into a puddle.
The hems of her white jeans were dirty brown now. Her toes peeking from her sandals were murky grey now.
CORRECTION
Wendy McDermott was happy. She couldn’t peel a big smile off her face. She couldn’t stop herself from skipping sometimes. She couldn’t help inhaling deep into her lungs.
She hopped over a puddle.
The hems of her white jeans were white. Her toes peeking from her sandals were pink. And she was happy. And she kept walking, whistling now.
There were only a few trees. She could see all around her. A white cottage to the east. A black hut to the west. A grey dead tree to the north. A green hill with gaping caves to the south. Under her feet were wet dead leaves, which squished and squelched under her white sandals. The murky water seeped out around her new white sandals.
The blue sky with the sun was covered with black clouds, which started dumping hot rain. It was very hot, scalding. The green weeds under her feet wilted. Her hair plastered to her skull. Her pale-pink skin was red. Her red cheeks. Her red forehead. Her red jaw. Her red nose. Her red hands.
She thought she should have brought instant noodles, then she could have a snack in three minutes.
Her face was red and swollen. Her hands were red and swollen. She wasn’t an instant noodle. But she was getting softer. Tan-coloured soup powder with chicken-curry flavour was sprinkled over her head. She was ready to be eaten.
CORRECTION
Wendy McDermott hopped over a puddle.
The hems of her white jeans were white. Her toes peeking from her sandals were pink. And she was happy. And kept walking, whistling now.
There were only a few trees. She could see all around her. A dead tree to the east. White sand to the west. White sand to the north. A dead tree to the south. Under her feet was white sand, which yielded to her white sandals. The powdery sand oozed out around her new sandals.
The white sun in the white sky was surrounded by white eye-piercing circles. It was biting hot. The sand under her feet was dead. Her tongue was mummified in her mouth. As soon as the sweat came out of her pores, it evaporated. Her fingers were dried sticks. Her arms were dried branches. Her legs were dried boughs.
She wished she could drink her own blood. A self-contained vampire.
Why not?
Her mouth needed liquid. Her stomach longed for liquid. Her cells lusted for liquid. And her body still had some: smooth flowing blood all over inside her body. She could borrow it a little. It would only be her blood from the vessels to the mouth and stomach, in which it would be absorbed back into her veins.
She bit her forefinger. The precious ruby blood on the tip of the finger. The tiny red ball of aqua. And it was getting bigger and bigger. It started to dribble down her dried finger. No. Before it got sucked to her dried skin. Before it evaporated like her sweat.
She licked it. Sweet thick liquid. The dear one.
It disappeared right away into her mouth. She needed more. She bit the finger deeply to the bone.
The beloved one popped out more enthusiastically. She sucked it and sucked it and sucked it. It was so good. Her tongue got hydrated. The walls of her mouth relished it. Her throat gurgled with pleasure. Her stomach got rejuvenated.
She wanted more. She wanted a bigger supply.
The wrist.
She bit her wrist deep. The smiling red liquid started flowing with a zeal.
She drank it and she drank it.
The sun was hot. The air was biting.
She had to sit down. And kept drinking her blood.
CORRECTION
The white sun in the white sky was surrounded by white eye-piercing circles. It was biting hot. The sand under her feet was dead. Wendy McDermott’s tongue was mummified in her mouth. As soon as the sweat came out of her pores, it evaporated. Her fingers were dried sticks. Her arms were dried branches. Her legs were dried boughs.
Then, she saw dark green far away. It might be an oasis. There should be water there.
She made her dried legs walk faster. Her eyes kept watching the dark green. She was afraid if she looked away for a second, the dark green might disappear. Her legs working hard. Her eyes devouring the dark green hard.
Yes, she could see the shapes of trees with dark-green leaves. And she could see a blue pond. A blue pond! She would drink the water in a minute. She would bathe in it. Her skin would absorb the water. Her body would shriek with joy.
She started to run. With her eyes on the trees and the pond.
Splash!
Cold water. Sweet water. She was in it. She drank it. She poured it onto her head. She sank into it. Her dried body, a scrunched-up paper unfolding in it.
‘معذرة سيدتي. هذا هو إمدادات المياه البلدية. الرجاء الخروج من هناك,’ a man in a long white cloak and a long white headdress said when she popped out her head from the pond, with her hair plastered to her head.[i] He was standing with two women in long black garments covering them from head to toe.
‘عليك ان تحصل على الخروج من الماء الآن,’ he said.[ii]
She had no idea what he said. It sounded like Arabic, which didn’t help her at all. At least, she could tell he was angry with her, from his tone.
‘Can’t you speak English? I don’t speak Arabic if that’s what you were speaking,’ she told him, standing in the cool water. She noticed his eyes stuck to her chest. Looking down, she saw her wet white shirt clinging to her body with her red bra clearly visible underneath. And she also saw the shapes of her nipples on the two tops of her breasts. She sank down, holding her breasts with her arms. She wasn’t usually that prim, but his gaze, the strength of his gaze, made her feel like a young nun.
‘الخروج من هناك، في الوقت الحالي,’ he shouted at her.[iii] She wondered if he sounded angrier just because he couldn’t see her nipples any longer. It could be good if she could pacify him somehow, but there was no way that she would show her nipples in order to do it.
A sand-coloured camel sauntered from behind some trees, munching with its jaws moving sideways, right to left, right to left. Then it cried, spitting something well-chewed and green at her face. The smell.
She plunged her head into the pond and brushed the chewed thing away. When she reappeared at the surface, there were five men in white and a dozen women in black were standing behind them and staring at her. Where had they all come from? She had no idea. It was a small oasis with only the small pond and some scrawny trees around it. But she hadn’t notice the first man and two women when she dove into it, let alone the smelly camel. She must have been too excited to detect the people. Still, nearly twenty people she had failed to see? she didn’t think so.
‘وامرأة بيضاء والتلويث بركة لنا.’[iv]
‘انها لا تريد أن تخرج.’[v]
‘انها لا تستمع لنا.’[vi]
The men blustered. Even some women behind them pointed at her with their hands from their long black sleeves.
‘وينبغي معاقبتها. جلب لها للخروج,’ An old man with white hair under his white headgear stepped out from the cluster of the men.[vii] He came to the pond and yanked her out of the water. She was dragged on the white sand with two men gripping her arms from either side. Her wet feet in her wet sandals got gritty. She stumbled and fell on her knees, which got sandy as well.
‘انها غير أخلاقي.’[viii] Several men stared at her breasts and bottom. The Women covered their eyes with their hands.
She looked down. Her nipples under her red bra were visible. Her red knickers were visible under her white jeans. Why did I have to put on red underwear this morning? She wanted to hit herself.
They pushed her into a big white cloth bag and tied the top.
‘Help me! Help me? I’m just a tourist! I don’t know anything about your customs! I’m sorry if I offended you! But I didn’t know anything!’ she cried out loud, the tears running down on her cheeks.
Something hard hit her shoulder through the bag. Another one hit her head. Another one struck her back. Another thwacked her head again.
CORRECTION
The white sun in the white sky was surrounded by white eye-piercing circles. It was biting hot. The sand under her feet was dead. Wendy McDermott’s tongue was mummified in her mouth. As soon as the sweat came out of her pores, it evaporated. Her fingers were dried sticks. Her arms were dried branches. Her legs were dried boughs.
Then she saw a green hill far away. It might be an oasis. There should be water there.
She made her dried legs walk faster. Her eyes kept watching the green hill. She was afraid if she looked away for a second, the hill might disappear. Her legs working hard. Her eyes devouring the hill hard.
Yes, she could see the shapes of trees with green leaves, although she couldn’t see any water. But it might be on the top that couldn’t be seen from where she was. Or on the other side of the hill. Those green leaves must have some water to be that healthy. There must be water there.
She started run. With her eyes on the hill.
When she managed to get to the top, there was no water but green grass. It was lush, but no water. The water the grass absorbed must be only from the underground. She couldn’t drink the moisture in the soil. She wasn’t a plant.
Her tongue was dryer. She longed for water more. Her throat screamed for some moisture. Her skin was dying. She was a mummy.
It might be possible to get some liquid if she ate this green grass.
She pulled some from the ground and shook the dirt from its roots and put it into her mouth.
Bitter juice filled her mouth: too bitter to enjoy and too little to satisfy.
She wanted water. She couldn’t wait. Her body needed liquid to survive.
She cried to the blue sky, but no voice came out, no tears were shed. Her body was too dry.
Three crows were circling high in the air above her. They must be waiting for her to die, she thought. She might have to die of thirst on this green hill.
No dark clouds in the sky. No chance of rain.
The blue sky looked like water, deep water, a huge lake, sweet sweet water.
But it wasn’t for her.
With all her energy drained out, she sat down, facing the other side of the hill.
A puddle. There was a small puddle a few yards away from the foot of the hill. It was tiny, but it would do for the time being. It looked to have clean water like the blue sky above it.
At the moment she was going to run down the hill slope, she saw somebody in a white shirt and white jeans skipping towards the puddle. The person stopped and inhaled deeply with its face upwards, then started walking again.
Splash!
The person stepped into the puddle, her water.
_____________________________________________________
i.Excuse me, Madam. This is the communal water supply. Please get out of there.
ii.You have to get out of the water.
iii.Get out of there, right away.
iv.The white woman is soiling the pond.
v. She doesn’t want to go out.
vi.She doesn’t listen to us.
vii.She should be punished. Bring her out.
viii.She is immoral.
