Assa’s Eggs

Chapter 4

The moon was full in the sky and illuminated the ground beneath her feet. She stepped here and there, sure-footed, but filled with terror. Somewhere behind her, so distant that it could have been from another world, she heard her parents call to her, but their voices were so small that they seemed no louder than mice.

She had no time for them. She could see no comfort in having them closer, so she increased her pace and soon broke out of the forest and was on the beach.

She ran across the sand and was soon splashing through the surf and wading into the waves. She had no idea why she was out in the water. It was dangerous to be on the ocean at night like this. One could lose one’s footing and fall into the waves and drown. Everyone knew that. Everyone knew to stay away from the waves when it was dark. Assa knew it as well as anyone, but that didn’t seem to matter.

She stood in hip deep water. The waves rolled past and around her, enveloping her in cold. It was as though the deepest and coldest part of the ocean wanted to take her down. She shivered. The wails that led her here seemed to increase in intensity. The sound was like another being under her skin, trying to drown out her true self. She fought against that, willing the sound to flee.

But the sound was agile and determined to go its own way. It seized her and tossed her on the waves so that Assa ended up face down, gulping water. She flailed wildly, until her hands and feet touched bottom and she gained a purchase on the sand and pushed herself to a standing position. But only long enough for a wave to come and knock her back down.

Confused and blind from the salt water stinging her eyes, she ended up sitting on the ocean floor and another wave tossed water on her and immersed her completely. She pushed off the floor and tried to reach for air, but the presence in her body twisted her around and pushed her down again.

She gathered all her strength and will and tried to run back to the beach, but was so confused that she did not know where the beach was. She screamed into the night air. The sound of her own voice mimicked the wails of the girls that had brought her to the water’s edge in the first place, and now the sound seemed to have moved into her skull.

It wrapped itself around her brain and began squeezing. It felt like her head was trapped in some press bent on breaking her. She put her hands up to the sides of her head and held them there, covering her ears, but it was no good.

The wails snaked through her fingers. They slid under her palms. They kept coming and wound themselves even tighter around her brain.

She heard splashing, somewhere far off in the distance. It was as though she was recalling an old memory, though she knew that couldn’t be true. She had no memory of anything like this happening to her. The splashing stopped and she felt arms holding her, supporting her, carrying her out of the water to the sand, where she was placed, gently, on the cold ground.

Shapes moved around her. Familiar shapes.

Assa! Her mother’s voice. Assa! Child what happened to you?

Another shape—her father?—put a blanket around her and wrapped her up in it. Assa welcomed the rough feel of the cloth. It was something outside of her brain that she could hang onto.

Don’t you hear the cries? said Assa.

We don’t hear anything, said her father. Come on. We’ll take you home. Warm you by the fire.

Her parents tried to get her to stand up, but Assa was too weak to move. She felt herself go limp as her mother and father tried to make her stand.

Eventually the sounds of the wails diminished enough for Assa to attempt standing up. She raised herself slowly, clutching the blanket close to her. Her teeth chattered and her skin trembled. She was so cold.

The wails were almost completely gone.

Assa’s parents took her back home, but not through the woods, which they thought would be too treacherous. Instead they went north on the beach to the creek, and half dragged, half carried Assa along the banks until they reached their property. The paddles of the mill lapped at the water. Such a soothing sound. Assa welcomed it into her being as though it was the warmest of fires. She felt her whole body go soft, just listening to it, the way it seemed to whisper to her of everything she loved about living in her town.

Her parents were not inclined to slow down or relax. In fact, they seemed frantic with worry, as though they needed to get Assa inside the house and if they did not, something awful would happen.

Assa wondered, idly, what that something could be.

They deposited her, still wrapped in the blanket, on the floor in front of the fireplace. Assa’s father put more wood on the fire, to get it roaring, while her mother rubbed her arms and legs vigorously, trying to get them warm, Assa supposed.

She didn’t care. None of it mattered. All she wanted was sleep. She drifted into some semblance of oblivion, the world sliding off to one side, it seemed, while she held on, barely, a small case of vertigo stirring her belly and making her head dizzy. Sleep was just there on the other side of this feeling. All she had to do was reach for it.

A slap on her cheek startled her. She put her hand up to her face. Ouch, she said. Then she laughed. A small chuckle at first, then louder and more spirited, until she was laughing uncontrollably. Her mother grabbed her up from the floor and drew her close to her body and hugged her tightly.

Is she going to be okay? asked her father, still shoving wood into the fireplace. The flames were crackling now, and tall, like shimmering beings that wanted to wrap themselves around Assa, like her mother was doing. Assa wanted to put her hand out and feel the soft flames. She wanted them to consume her.

She just needs to get warm, said her mother. Once she’s warm, she’ll be fine.

As Assa slipped into sleep, she tried fighting the urge, but could not. She wanted to stay awake so she could listen to those screams. They felt right to her, like the universe was saying something she could understand for the first time in her life.

Assa slept for two days straight. When she thought about that time later, she always considered it a period of renewal. It was a time her body needed to be dormant so that she could build up her reserves of strength. At least, that is what she told herself it was.

Secretly, she thought what was more likely was that she needed to descend into the world where the spirits lived. That would be a time for her to find her true people. This was not something she wished to tell her parents. She was sure they wouldn’t understand because she wasn’t sure she understood either. How could her people be located anywhere but in her own town?

But during those two days of sleep, she had the most vivid dreams imaginable. They were of strange creatures, long and sinewy, thin and fluid. They floated in the world around her, like jellyfish in the ocean, and they seemed drawn to Assa.

In her dreams she reached out to them and felt their soft exteriors and interiors. She wanted to clothe them with flesh and skin; they seemed unfinished, like clay sculpture that needed to be fired and glazed. She tried to speak to them, and some sound came back, but not enough for her to understand.

When she woke up, her parents were hovering close to her. Their faces seemed alien and strange, at first. Then quickly slid into familiarity, as though their images had slotted into the section of Assa’s brain that coded for normal.

You’ve been sleeping for days, said her mother. She smiled, but the smile was strained and tinged with fear.

Her father looked at her with an anxious expression, as though he thought she might explode at any minute. She saw they both had been through an ordeal and realized the ordeal was their worry about her.

I—don’t know what happened, she said.

You ran out of the house like a crazy girl, said her father. Right into the ocean. We thought you were going to freeze to death.

Yes, said Assa, but I don’t know why.

Her mother elbowed her father in the ribs. He kept his mouth shut.

All we care about now, said her mother, is that you’re well. The rest did you good, I’m sure.

Assa nodded. I’m sure, too. I’m really hungry. Can I eat something?

Of course, of course, said her mother. We’ll let you get dressed, then you can come have some food.

They left her room and closed the door behind them. Assa suddenly felt more alone than she thought was possible. She quickly tossed aside her covers and put on a shirt and pants and went to the table near the stove.

Her mother, busy at the counter, turned around and beamed at her. That was fast, she said. You have your energy back.

Assa went to her mother and leaned close to her and put her arm around her.

Oh, oh, said her mother. What’s this? You haven’t wanted to hug me like this for a long long time.

I just miss you, said Assa.

Well, said her mother, I’m right here. Don’t worry.

Assa’s father came in from outside, carrying a stack of wood, which he dropped next to the stove. That should be enough for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he said, laughing.

Thanks, Dad, said Assa.

Her father looked startled. You’re welcome, Assa, he said.

Assa sat at the kitchen table and her mother brought her a plate piled high with potatoes, sausage, eggs and biscuits. Assa dug in eagerly. Everything tasted better than she ever could have imagined.

Her parents ate with her, though their plates were more modestly laden.

When you’re ready, said her father, I think it would be good for you to get back working. Your mother and I have talked it over. We think that whatever you went through must have been very traumatic, so we’re not going to push you to work, but it would be good for you, we think. Take a day or two to get your bearings back, but then you should really think about working again.

Okay, said Assa, without elaborating.

All we’re saying is it would be best for you, said her father. People are better off when they are doing something. I know I feel better with work to do. I think almost everyone does.

Okay, said Assa, again.

Her father started to say something more, but his wife put her hand on his arm and he stopped. He took a breath, then turned his attention back to his plate.

Assa felt bad for him. He didn’t know what to do or how to talk to his own daughter. That must have been hard for him.

I’m okay, said Assa. Really.

Her parents both nodded at her.

Just as Assa was finishing her second helping of breakfast a knock came from the front door.

They all three looked up. Now who could that be? said Assa’s mother.

Her father got up from the table and went to the door and opened it.

He returned a few seconds later. His face was pale. Behind him a large man, his belly surrounding him like a bag of flour, followed. His hair hung down to his shoulders and his feet were adorned with shiny red shoes.

Assa’s mother put her hand up to her chin. Your majesty, she said. She started to get up, but the king of the land put out his hand.