Ashoan's Rug - Softcover

Knowles, Carrie

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1782791124 ISBN 13: 9781782791126

Verlag: ROUNDFIRE BOOKS, 2013

Inhaltsangabe

As it passes from owner to owner, Ashoan's Rug tells the story of how the work of art is not in the creating, but in how the artwork changes lives. A literary magic carpet ride!
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Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorinnen und Autoren

Carrie's non-fiction book, The Last Childhood: A Family Story of Alzheimer's, Three Rivers Press 2000, has been noted as one of the top 100 books written about Alzheimer's. Her first novel, Lillian's Garden, was published by Roundfire Books in 2013. Carrie and her husband, Jeff Leiter, live in Raleigh, North Carolina. They have three children.
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Carrie's non-fiction book, The Last Childhood: A Family Story of Alzheimer's, Three Rivers Press 2000, has been noted as one of the top 100 books written about Alzheimer's. Her first novel, Lillian's Garden, was published by Roundfire Books in 2013. Carrie and her husband, Jeff Leiter, live in Raleigh, North Carolina. They have three children.
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Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Ashoan's Rug

By Carrie Jane Knowles

John Hunt Publishing Ltd.

Copyright © 2013 Carrie Jane Knowles
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-78279-112-6

CHAPTER 1

1894THE RUG

"Seda," Lala sobbed, curling her body into a tight ball as the nextcontraction ripped across her stomach, "something is wrong. Mybaby has been quiet now for two days."

Seda stroked the back of the girl's head with her right handand placed her left hand flat on the side of the girl's big stomach.

"The moon was resting," Seda said. "The baby was restingtoo."

Seda pressed her hand hard against the girl's side to see if thebaby would move. "Breathe with me," Seda commanded whileshe pushed and kneaded the tight belly. "Together we will wakethis baby and help it travel into this world."

Three moons ago, Seda had held two stillborn babies andsung the death song to them, touching their tiny closed eyelids inorder to give them messages to carry to their ancestors in thenext world. They were twin girls who would not have made iteven if they had managed to fall screaming from their mother'sloins. They were just too small to survive.

This baby, however, was big. Seda could feel the broad sole ofits foot push against her hand as she tried to wake it in itsmother's womb. She felt certain it would live, as long as Laladidn't panic and its journey here could be ridden on the lovingsongs of the women waiting to catch it, not the screams of itsanxious mother.

"Is your rug almost finished?" Seda asked Lala. Yesterday shehad seen the girl sitting with the women weaving and hadnoticed her shoulders slumped uncomfortably around her bigstomach as she worked slowly over the pattern of her rug.

"I have the skirt to weave yet, and to tie it off."

"Ashoan will finish it for you," Seda said. She placed herhands on either side of the girl's belly so she could massage itstight expanse. As she worked her fingers she could feel the softcurl of the baby's back along the dark hairline down Lala'sstomach and the large crown of the baby's head pushing downinto the girl's small hips. The baby was turned and ready butthere was no longer any room for it to move.

"This baby is big. He wants to get out and we must help him."

"Too big?" Lala wailed. "So big he will split me open like amelon the way Hasad did his mother?"

Seda closed her eyes so she could concentrate on her hands.Lala had always been a silly girl and now Seda feared she wouldbe an equally silly mother.

"I will call upon our ancestors. We will need their help. It is abig job to go from one world to the next. The baby is resting now.He is preparing himself to come. You must prepare yourself also.Ashoan," Seda called out to her daughter, "it is Lala's time.Gather the women for me."

Ashoan poked her head into her mother's tent. Ashoan was aseason older than Lala, but no one had claimed her for his bride.Her hands were not as quick as the other girls' at weaving, andher right eye and cheek were blemished with a deep purple mark,like the welt a hand might leave on a face if someone slapped it.Ashoan quickly turned her marked cheek away when Lalalooked at her.

"I shall tell them," Ashoan said obediently.

"And, Ashoan," her mother added, "once the women havedrawn the water and the fire is built for the night, you must goand finish Lala's weaving. Be swift. The rug should be cut fromthe loom before the baby's first cry."

Seda knew the omens were not good when babies came onunfinished business. Ashoan had come in the middle of a rug,and Seda had no desire to tempt the Fates so soon after thestillborn twins. It was unclear to Seda whether Ashoan hadrushed to come before the rug was finished and that is whatmarked her face and slowed her hands, or if Seda's own slownessto finish her rug had damaged her baby. These were notquestions any of them could answer.

"It will be done," Ashoan swore to her mother, and she leftthe tent.

While she wove on Lala's rug by the firelight, Ashoan could hearthe women singing through Lala's screams. As the fearfulwailing of Lala rose, the singing of the women climbed as well.Higher and higher the younger women's voices ascended whilethe older ones hummed a low droning call like waves rolling outto sea then crashing against a ragged shore. Ashoan closed hertired eyes and let the music carry her slow fingers across Lala'sdull little rug.

"If this were my rug," Ashoan sang softly as she worked, "Iwould weave into it the red of fire. If this were my rug, thestitches would be tight and straight. If this were my rug it wouldbe beautiful."

Although she was nearly fifteen and more than old enough,Ashoan had not yet been given her own rug to weave. Her handshad been slower than the other girls' at learning the knots, butnow her knots were strong and sure. She had proven herself onher mother's loom. Several months ago her mother had promisedher a rug to weave. But, after the stillborn twins had come, hermother had said they must wait until the smell of death had lefttheir camp and the wind blew fresh again.

As Ashoan worked she listened carefully to the singing of thewomen. Their voices were growing louder, and the pounding,droning cadence shook the earth like a wild galloping horse. Thesound, Ashoan knew, was the baby straining to push its way intothis world. Ashoan begged her hands to move faster, the finethreads of the rug skirt rolling in her fingers, wrapping andknotting their way across the warp on the loom. She knew thebaby must not come before the rug was cut free from the loom.

"If this were my rug," she sang as she worked her hands fromknot to knot, "my husband would not sell it. He would praise mefor its beauty. When I cut it from the loom, the weaving womenwould take hold of its long silken fringe and dance around thefire."

The droning pulsed through the chilled night air. "Al-lah, Al-lah,Al-lah," it seemed to call out beckoning for help to bring thebaby home.

Ashoan worked faster.

"Al-lah, Al-lah," the voices of the old women pulsed andpushed the baby forward. She could hear Lala scream.

"My rug will be beautiful," Ashoan sang to herself, letting herown voice rise a little as she took her sharp knife and twistedeach knotted fringe in order to cut it free in one clean stroke.Twist, cut, twist, cut, her fingers worked their way from one endof the loom to the other.

"Al-lah, Al-lah," came the drone.

When she finished with the bottom fringe, Ashoan stood tocut the rug free from the other end of the loom.

"My rugs will bring me riches," she sang, her body swaying tothe music of the women in the birthing tent. "My husband will beproud."

"EEEEEE-yah!" came the sharp deafening cry from Seda.

"A son!" Ashoan heard her mother call out to the men waitingin the shadows. "Lala, the good wife, gives her husband a son.Hear him cry."

Seda dipped the newborn boy's heels in a pan of cold waterand he cried out, and as he did, Seda quickly cut the cord bindinghim to his mother and the other world. The women who had beenholding Lala's shaking legs began massaging her belly to bringthe afterbirth.

Before Seda had finished her song of life to the baby andwrapped him in a shawl and pushed his searching mouth toLala's small breast, Ashoan was standing at the door of the tentwith the rug rolled in her arms.

"It was cut before he cried," she said, her face beaming.

Seda examined the fine tight knots her daughter had made inLala's poorly woven rug.

"You brought luck to Lala's baby on his journey here andbeauty to her rug. Good work, my daughter."

"The smell of death has been swept from our...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: ROUNDFIRE BOOKS
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2013
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1782791124
• ISBN 13: 9781782791126
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 126
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar