Tales by Moonlight

Ripples in the Stream

Danny! Tall, dark and handsome, people always say that the water goddess gave him to his parent because of his blue eyes, though he was every lady in Winterfield’s dream, but he was Ruth’s boyfriend. He was dressed casually, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, revealing a hint of his chest. His grin was lopsided, and his eyes sparkled with an unsettling mix of curiosity and mischief.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, stepping closer.

I quickly turned back to my washing. “What do you want?” I asked, my voice wary.

“Just passing by,” he said, crouching beside me. “Though I couldn’t help but notice how hard you’re working. Doesn’t seem fair, does it? A girl like you doing all this by yourself.”

I stiffened, my hands pausing in the water. “I manage fine.”

He chuckled. “Still, it’s not right. You’re prettier than Ruth, you know.” His tone was light, but his words sent a jolt of unease through me.

“Don’t,” I said firmly, finally looking him in the eye. His grin only widened.

“What? It’s the truth.” He leaned in slightly, and I could feel the heat of his gaze. “You deserve better, Sarah.”

Before I could respond, another voice cut through the air like a whip. “Danny! What are you doing here?”

I turned to see Ruth marching down the path, her face a mixture of anger and suspicion. Her hands were planted on her hips, and her eyes darted between Danny and me.

“Nothing, babe,” Danny said smoothly, standing up and brushing off his pants. “Just saying hi to your sister.”

“She’s not my sister,” Ruth snapped, her gaze locking onto me with a venomous glare. “She’s the housemaid.”

I felt my cheeks flush, but I bit back a retort, knowing it would only make things worse.

Ruth stepped closer, her voice dripping with mockery. “Look at you, all alone by the stream, scrubbing away like the little servant you are. Did you think for a second that someone like Danny would be interested in you?” She laughed, a cruel, high-pitched sound that echoed through the trees.

“That’s enough, Ruth,” Danny said, his tone light but firm. “Don’t be so harsh.”

“Oh, please,” Ruth said, rolling her eyes. “She needs to know her place.” She turned back to me. “Don’t get any ideas, Sarah. Danny’s mine. He’s only being nice because he feels sorry for you.”

The sting of her words was sharp, but I refused to let her see the hurt in my eyes. Instead, I turned back to the stream and resumed scrubbing, my hands moving furiously as if the motion could wash away the humiliation.

Ruth’s mocking voice grew louder as she stepped closer, and before I could react, she gave me a hard shove. My feet slipped on the wet stones, and I tumbled backward into the cold water. Pain exploded in my head as it struck a submerged rock. Stars danced in my vision, and the world seemed to tilt as I struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

“That’ll teach you,” Ruth said, her voice distant and cruel as the water roared in my ears.

I clutched my head, the sharp ache radiating through my skull. The stream felt freezing against my skin, and my clothes clung to me like a second weight. Ruth’s laughter echoed as she stormed off, dragging Danny with her.

For a long moment, I stayed there, half-submerged, letting the current wash over me. Slowly, I pushed myself up, my hands trembling as I sat on the bank. The cool air prickled my skin, and I glanced down at my soaked clothes, ready to endure the discomfort of being drenched on my walk back home.

But something strange began to happen. As I stared, the water seemed to evaporate from my clothes and skin in mere seconds, leaving me completely dry. My hands moved instinctively over my dress, checking for dampness, but it was as though I had never fallen into the stream at all.

A shiver ran down my spine, not from cold but from confusion and unease. I looked around, half-expecting someone to appear and explain what had just happened. Nana’s words echoed faintly in my memory, from one of her many moonlit tales: “There are those who carry gifts within them, blessings from the heavens. They often don’t realize it until life forces their gifts to the surface.”

Nana had always told me I was special. “You’re different, Sarah,” she would say with a soft smile, her wrinkled hands brushing my hair back from my face. “The world might not understand you, but that’s because you carry something rare, something precious. One day, it will reveal itself, and you will know why you’ve had to be so strong.” Those words, spoken so many times, now felt like a beacon in the haze of my confusion.

Was this what she meant? Could it be possible that I was one of those people Nana spoke of in her stories?

My heart raced as questions swirled in my mind, but there were no answers to be found here. Taking a deep breath, I whispered to myself, “You carry it within you. The strength to endure, to survive.” Nana’s words felt like a lifeline, pulling me back from the edge of despair.

I would endure. For Nana. For myself.