Mara and Dann by Doris Lessing Read Free Book Online Page A

don’t know how lucky you were.’
    Mara went on with the game. ‘And when we were going through the water, when we came down from the hill, what did you see?’
    And Dann told them. Soon, Mara thought, she would say to him, ‘And what did you see…?’ taking him back to the room where the bad man frightened him; but not yet. He could not bear to think of that yet, Mara knew. Because she could hardly bear to think of it herself.
    â€˜Did you play the game?’ Mara asked Daima. ‘I mean, when you were little?’
    â€˜I did, of course. It’s how the People educate our children. We always have. And let me tell you, it’s stood me in good stead ever since.’
    That
always
… Mara seemed to hear it for the very first time. It frightened her, a little. What did it mean,
always?
    The light outside was yellow instead of orange and hot, and the voices and movements were there again; and more than once a face appeared in the window hole and Daima nodded at them not to notice, just keep on doing what they were: Mara cuddling Dann and singing to him, Daima at the table. Then it was dark outside, and there were more of the lumps of white food, and this time with it some kind of cheese. The water in the mugs tasted muddy. The evening was beginning. Mara used to love all the things they did when the light went outside and the lights came up bright inside: games of all kinds, and then eating their supper, always with one parent there and sometimes both; and often their cousins stayed to sleep.
    Daima was striking on the wall a kind of match Mara had never seen, and with it lighting a tall candle that stood on the floor, and then another, in a little basin of oil that was on a spike pushed in a crack between rocks. The light in the room wasn’t very bright. Both flames wavered and fled about because of the air from the window. Some insects flew in, to the flames. And now Daima picked up a heavy wooden shutter and slid it over the window. The flames stood up quiet and steady. Mara hated that, because she was used to air blowing in the window and through the house.
    Dann was on Mara’s lap and she was beginning to ache with his weight. But she knew he needed this and she must go on for as long as he did. And now he began something he had not done since he was a tiny child. He was sucking his thumb, a loud squelching noise, and it was upsetting. Daima was irritated by it. Mara pulled the thumb out of the little boy’s mouth, but he at once jammed it back.
    â€˜I think we should all go to bed,’ said Daima.
    â€˜But it’s early,’ said Mara.
    There was a pause then, and Mara knew that what Daima was going to say was important. ‘I know that you are used to a different kind of life. But here you’ll have to do what I do.’ A pause again. ‘I was used to – what you are used to. I’m very sorry, Mara. I do know how you feel.’
    Mara realised they were both almost whispering. She had kept hervoice low ever since she had come into the rock house. And now Dann said loudly, ‘But why, why, why, Daima? Why, why, why?’ ‘Shhhhh,’ said Daima, and he at once began to whisper, ‘Why, why? I want to know.’ He had learned to obey, all right, and Mara’s heart ached to see how he had changed. She had always loved the little child’s confidence, and his bravery, and the way he chattered his thoughts, half aloud, and sometimes aloud, acting out all kinds of dreams and dramas that went on in his mind. He had never been afraid of anything, ever, and now …
    Mara said to Daima, ‘Tomorrow, can we play What Did You See?’
    The old woman nodded, but after another pause: she always thought things out before she spoke. Mara thought how everything was slow here, and she was used to everything quick and light and easy – and airy. It was stuffy now. The candles smelled hot and greasy.
    â€˜Tomorrow morning,