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102 The Trough

 

As Nana and the Little Red Haired Girl were walking along the flatter path in the hot sunshine and were nearly at the water trough, it occurred to Nana that the child was filthy and covered in dust. Her dress looking like it would stand up on its own should she ever take it off, and the pockets were so distorted they looked like they were permanently full even when empty. Perhaps the water trough would be a good place to have a rest and clean her up a bit and hopefully look at the ‘tatty papers with writing on’ the child had mentioned before but couldn’t reach (whilst Nana had been talking to Mrs Tarot) the last time they were outside.

Nana couldn’t even remember how long ago that was. She might even persuade the child to take the dress off for it to be washed. It was so hot Nana was sure it would dry whilst they had a bit of a longer rest. IF she could get her to take it off! She was very tired today after all the back and forth to spiritual court and the Pumphouse, and the last thing she needed was an argument with the child over a dirty dress.

“Have you got anything in those pockets? It looks like you have.” she asked the child.
The Little Red Haired Girl showed her the empty water bottle. “Only this. I thought we could get more water for Body.”
“A good idea, we shall, after which we will get you cleaned up a bit, you’re looking a bit grubby Fluff. Even your hair has lost it’s curls and shine,”
“Hmm” was all the child said. Nana could see it was going to be a battle, but she watched her happily running after butterflies. There seemed to be an awful lot of them, Dragonflies too. Nana couldn’t remember a time she had seen so many.

 

Although tired, Nana did feel a little more relaxed today, spiritual court had told her there was nothing much she could do to help Body escape from the Pumphouse and although this saddened her, she had been assured that ‘they’ (all that was encompassed within Body) would work it out. They assured her of the courts guaranteed help although she was not supposed to tell Body this yet. Body had inner work to do. Body had to surrender to the process first. Nana did not like secrets and that Brain was so stubborn to surrendering anything, it was going to be difficult. A long dark night. Nana sighed in resignation. It was never possible to put an old head on young shoulders whatever physical age they had reached.

 

To some extent, Nana admired the fact that Spirit had kept its younger innocence all these years and that Soul and Heart had trusted most people Body had met, but it had landed them in trouble and it was time to ‘grow up’ even at the age of 65.

 

She watched the child now dancing with the butterflies. She was a good little dancer. It was such a shame to dampen that Spirit, squash the naivety of Soul, and make Heart cry but it had to be done. There was going to be collateral damage in the process but rightly so if one was to survive in this modern world. A necessary damage to survive. As Nana’s thoughts meandered they had reached the water trough already, and the Little Red Haired Girl was reaching through the wires to fill the water bottle when she shrieked with surprise.

“What’s the matter child?”

“The cows and their babies are sleeping Nana, look, they are all lying down.”

Nana followed her gaze, and sure enough they were. Nana saw the eyes glazed and also saw the flies and realised very quickly that they were not sleeping. They were dead.

 

The child was oblivious to this and busy filling the water bottle, shaking it with vigour to clean it and refilling it. Nana stopped her. “Let me do that child while you at least wash your face.” She took the water bottle from her, and although Nana’s eyesight was not what it used to be she noticed the water had particles in it. She shook the bottle again, yes definitely bits floating in it. She emptied it and tried again from lower in the water level and realised the particles were worse. “Stop child, do not wash your face!”

“But Nana you told me to.”

“Have you put your hands in it?” and as the child nodded, large red welts appeared on her hands. “Quick child, dry your hands on your dress! Get the water off your hands! Quick!” and as Fluff did, she began to cry. “They are hurting Nana look.” The skin was blistering. Nana used the hem of her coat to get as much water off the child’s hands as possible and once she was sure they were dry she consoled the child as best she could. In between sobs the child asked “They’re not asleep are they Nana? They are dead.”

 

There was no lying needed. It was a fact. Someone had poisoned the water. Nana was worried and felt a creeping shiver across her back even though she had her back to the full hot sun as she rocked the crying child. Fear. She felt fear.

Nana pulled herself up to her full 5Ft 1 inch and with her arms around the child’s shoulders said as brightly as she could. “Dock leaves, what we need is Dock leaves. Do you remember what they look like? We need to go and find some to wrap around your hands. That will make them better. Come on, let’s go and find some.”

 

They went off the path a little into the shade of the forest where the ferns and darker leaves grew. Dock leaves were found and wrapped firmly around the child’s hands as her crying subsided. “Right, are they starting to feel a little better? Come on let’s get you back to rest. I am very tired are you?” The china blue eyes looked solemn and the face they were placed on just nodded almost imperceptibly but it was an agreement.

 

They walked back to the path and towards the Pumphouse at a quick pace. Fear driving them forwards as fast as Nana could muster being as she was, weighted to the ground. The child felt the fear too as their was no running or dancing, and she clung to Nana’s coat as a shadow. Even the butterflies and dragonflies had disappeared, and although it was still hot the child shivered.

 

All seemed quiet except for the crows in the top of one very tall Eucalyptus tree on their right as they passed it. “How many crows do you see?” Nana asked trying to lighten the mood a bit.

The Little Red Haired Girl stopped to look and count. “Do you mean the big black birds? The ones that laugh at us?”

“It’s called cawing.”

“There’s five Nana and it sounds like laughing to me.”

“That’s Ok, laughing they are then.”

Soon they would be back at the Pumphouse and Nana had never felt so glad to be revisiting that place, but here she was, feeling glad and thankful.

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© 2025 Jennifer Harris. Free And Alive 555

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I am Jennifer, author of this website.

Be in the present.
Forgive the past.
Keep hope and faith for the future.

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