Competition Twenty-Six Shortlisted: Yes, The River Knows by David Mann
I am cold, Mama. ‘ The river knows, child,’ she would say. ‘Soon, she will bring boats, laden with pelts for the winter.’
She was always right. With the coming of the frost, I would watch the canoes arrive, the trades swiftly made, before sliding from the shore and melting back into the mist.
I am hungry, Mama. ‘ The river knows, child. Be patient. She will thaw and carry the trout to our nets.’
And with the dawn of each spring, our nets would bulge with promise and the woodsmoke would linger in the valley for days.
I am lonely, Mama. ‘ The river knows, child. Any day now, she will tempt the traders north. Men ready to make their fortune – and find a woman.’
And on that Flower Moon, the air was filled with anticipation.
How dashing he was, leaping from the canoe, capote trailing behind him. He was everything I was not: jocund, unbending, fearless. Like a moth I was drawn to his flame, cocooned within his sinewy arms and calloused hands, for his larkish smile ignited in me a longing – to bask in his vitality, to be smothered by it.
And I did, fleetingly – until he had no further need for me. Word had reached him that his wife and son would soon join him. “Leave this place,” he warned, menacingly, eyes like the wolf. Those calloused hands wrapped around my neck and held me down, out of reach of the surface.
Here I lie. But there is one witness that remains. For now, it cradles me in its bed, the lullaby of its ebb and flow soothing my sleepless rest. But after the great rains, it shall twist and surge and bear me forth, back to the water’s edge.
I am angry, Mama. And the river knows.
David’s storytelling was forged in the fires of Grandad’s living room, and he now dabbles in short stories, poetry and children’s fiction. He has been featured in Andromeda and Novelo, and in venues in his home city of Durham. He is more likely to be caught reading Donaldson than Keats.
Photo, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
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Beautiful rhythm, ‘back to the water’s edge.’ Very nice.