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[Aderia]

River, Oh River, Flow Gently For Me

₪҉₪

Aderia

₪҉₪

My life is not perfect.

My life is not easy.

My life is not good.

But then again, since when has life been any of those things?

If my life was perfect, if it was easy, if it was good, I would not be me. And despite my flaws, I love being me.

I love being myself, because it’s what I am best at. More than that, it is what I must do. I must love being me and I must be me because nobody can love my little sister the way I do. She is only four years old, and she needs love. She needs taken care of.

I may only be ten years older than her, but I’m the one who takes care of her. Mother has been gone for almost two years now. Father is working, working, always working. I’ve come to accept that, though. We need the money, for the rent and food and to pay taxes. I’m not old enough to get a job yet, and even if I were, my little sister still needs me. My little Christina needs me.

I doubt Christina even remembers Mother. Her parents, my grandparents, came over from Somalia when she was in her late teens. The town they moved in to, Drovensburg, had a large immigrant population, so they fit right in. But Mother never liked where we lived. There were packs of large, dangerous boys that roamed the streets from dusk ‘til dawn. And she was right to fear them, because they ended her one drunken night.

“Nali?” Christina’s tiny voice rouses me from my trance. We are sitting on our old couch, watching our small television. “Nali, can we go outside? I don’t want to watch telly anymore.”

I glance at the battered clock on the wall as I point the remote at the TV to switch it off. It’s lunch time, but there isn’t food to spare for lunch. We usually save it for a big dinner with Papa.

“It’s too hot out, ‘Tina,” I tell her distractedly. Usually, the children’s pastor from the local church came around with food handouts in the summer. A lot of us in the low income neighborhood didn’t have enough food for three meals a day, and the church went to grocery stores and collected their extra foodstuffs and tried to make the world a better place by sharing.

“Are you hungry? I can boil some rice for you,” I say, gazing at her thin frame. Too thin. If anyone needs the food, it’s her. Not me, not Papa.

“Yes please,” Her adorable face with huge eyes lights up at the mention of lunch. “Thank you, Nali!”

I unfold myself from the couch and pad into the kitchen with my bare feet. I hear Christina fiddling with the volume on the TV as I automatically start setting up the stove to make rice.

And I catch myself singing softly, and out of habit.

My mother never knew much English. But she did have one lullaby that she always sang to us.

“Hush now, my baby
Be still love, don't cry
Sleep like you're rocked by the stream”

The white, fuzzy noise of the TV from the other room clicks off. I expect Christina to come and join me in the kitchen soon, like she usually does.

“Sleep and remember

My lullaby

And I’ll be with you when you dream”

I turn away from the sink with a pot full of cold water and yelp as I almost slam into Christina. She’d been standing right behind me.

“Christina!” I’m about to scold her gently, but I stop when I see her face is wet. “Did I spill water on you?” I ask, reaching for the hand-towel that needs washing.

She shook her head, and I peered closer. “What’s wrong, ‘Tina? Why are you crying?”

“I…I know that song, Nali,” She whispered.

“I sing it to you all the time, you should know it,” I smooth her hair that’s woven into tight corn-rows that end in pig tails as I walk towards the stove.

“No, Mommy sang it to us. I remember,” She told me with surety beyond her four years, following me to the stove.

Drift on a river
That flows through my arms
Drift as I'm singing to you

Christina was barely two and a half when Mother last sang that for us. “You can remember that?”

She nodded. “She was singing in my dream last night, Nali.”

I see you smiling
So peaceful and calm
And holding you, I'm smiling, too

I pour a small helping of rice from the old plastic bag into the water and fiddle with the dials on the stovetop.

“Nali, does mommy still love us?”

How can I answer something like that?

I stand with my back to Christina, watching the rice cloud up the water, which is only just beginning to bubble. My inability to form words, to explain things like this to her, weighs heavily upon me. The silence is even heavier.

I don’t know how much she remembers of our mother. I don’t know how much she understands about the forces that turn the world, like life and love and death.

Here in my arms
Safe from all harm
Holding you, I'm smiling, too

“Nali?” I can still hear the tears in her voice.

I take a deep breath, and turn to face her again, my pent up frustration welling up in my eyes. I want to give my little Christina the world, I have always wanted to. But how can I, if I can’t even explain a thing as universal as love to her?

I let out the breath in a ragged exhale, and sink down to the dirt-stained off-white tiled floor with my back against the cool oven door below the stove. I pat the floor next to me, taking another deep breath.

My voice is too hoarse to sing the beautiful lullaby justifiably, but I sing anyways.

“Hush now, my baby
Be still, love, don't cry
Sleep like you're rocked by the stream”

Christina scoots from the floor next to me and wriggles her way onto my lap. She blinks at me, her eyes still asking the question. Does Mommy still love us?

“Christina, you know what a river is?” She nods at me. “Mother loved rivers. She could compare anything to a river. And that’s why she loved the lullaby so much, the River Lullaby.”

Sleep and remember this river lullaby

And I'll be with you when you dream
I'll be with you when you dream

“She liked to think of existence as a life-long love song. Like a river, she told me once,” I said. Mother had also told me that she saw death as a waterfall. It’s inevitable, but you just continue on existing afterwards, but on a different plane. But Christina wouldn’t understand that.

I fall into silence again, trying to simplify things for her again, then speak, “Christina, can you pretend we’re on a raft? A raft floating on a river that doesn’t end? You have yours, I have mine, can you see it?”

“I can see it, Nali. In my head,” She smiled. “We’re right next to each other.”

I return her smile, and continue, “Okay, now I want you to picture a trail of rose petals on the river ahead of us.” Rose was Mother’s name. “You can pick them up out of the water, if you want. It’s a calm river.”

“What are the flower petals for?”

“You see, mother got swept up in a current and was whisked ahead of us. Very far ahead of us on the river. But as she was carried along, she left a trail of promises, the petals. And her trail of petals is her promise to wait for us, wherever she is.”

“So she does love us?”

“What do you think?”

“Yes,”

Here in my arms

Safe from all harm

Holding you, I’m smiling too

I gently heave Christina off of my lap and stood to check the rice.

“Your lunch is almost ready, ‘Tina. Go sit at the table,” I tell her. The sound of the chair scraping on the floor mingles with the clinking of dishes as I fish one out for her and then grab a spoon as well.

“Nali, are you eating?”

“No, I’m not hungry,” I tell her, and the lie tastes sour in my mouth and churns my stomach.

Sleep and remember

This river lullaby

And I’ll be with you when you dream

I place the shallow dish of rice in front of Christina and sit down next to her at the table.

But she doesn’t move to pick up her spoon yet. The expression her face is one of a perplexed four year old. “Do you need your booster seat?” I ask her. Her booster seat is last year’s telephone book, naturally.

“Nali, what about for real?” She wants to know.

“I’m sorry?” I do not understand what she is asking.

“The river is ‘magination,” She explains. “So the petals and promises are too.”

“Oh, no! No, no, that’s not how I meant it,” I insist. “The river and petals represent something very real. The river is being alive.” Mother and her endless metaphors in her beautiful and exotic native language had made that clear to me. I’m not sure how much of this Christina understands.

But bless her heart, she wants to know, “Then what do the promise-flower-petals mean for real?”

“Well, they’re still promises. But instead of flower petals on a river, they’re dreams, like the one you had last night, where Mother was singing to you.”

Sleep and remember this river lullaby

I’ll be with you when you dream

“She loves us very much, Christina. You need to understand that.”

“I know,” she says to me. And then something that wrenches my heart. “I love you too, Mommy.”

I’ll be with you when you dream

₪҉₪

A/N-Disclaimer: Lyrics are from the movie 'Prince of Egypt', they are not original. The story was inspired by two little girls I met IRL and had a chance to talk to.

Edited by Aderia, Jul 02 2012 - 03:55 PM.

[Quote (Mr. Traveler)]

Thanks a lot. You had to go write some heartfelt story about the depressing past of these two girls. Way to go, I was having a GOOD day today. >=(

However, it's done great. You really impressed me here, but it's not something I'm surprised you were able to write up. The emotions set in were wonderful and real, and the story was a honest one that I think everyone can relate to at some level. And might I say the overall theme of rivers was great? Cause at first I wasn't sure where you were leading with it, besides the song. But when you started to explain life and death, and using rivers to describe that... nice job!

My only complaint, I think is the dialogue. It's not bad at all, but at times it seemed too heavy for Christina considering her age. I think she'd understand what Nali was saying, but their banter was a little off.

Besides that, everything else was fine. And for something that's more on the serious line, I'd say it's something I'm going to keep in mind for a while. So that means when I think "Aderia", I'll probably add, "That's right she also did that really good River of Life Story." You've struck a cord for me in this one! =D

[Aderia]

Thanks a lot. You had to go write some heartfelt story about the depressing past of these two girls. Way to go, I was having a GOOD day today. >=(

Welcome. *curtsies* And I"m assuming that by 'depressing', you mean 'cold hard and realistic'. ...is that too depressing? Nevermind, forget I mentioned it =P

My only complaint, I think is the dialogue. It's not bad at all, but at times it seemed too heavy for Christina considering her age. I think she'd understand what Nali was saying, but their banter was a little off.

Nooo, Grant! Super intellectual four year olds ftw!!

Haha,j/k, thanks for pointing that dialogue out, I'll keep that in mind. Dangit, why couldnd't you point out something that's an easy fix, like POV slipups or what not?

Anyways, on a serious note, thank you so much for your review, its awesome to start a day on a happy note =)

[Grantaire]

Official SSCC review!

While this didn't occur the first time I read this, when I reread, this reminded me of THG. Most likely because of the first person present tense, and also the fact that your writing style here sounded rather like Suzanne Collins's. This was both a plus and a minus; plus because you handled it well, with short, brief descriptions giving the reader a clear picture. On the minus however, is that I've never really been a fan of that style. Still you handled it well.

The story was simple, small, and very realistic. There wasn't a large plot, but a simple one, and one that was expressed nicely. The reader gets a good image of the background, the setting, and the characters of the two girls. Although everything you describe is seen from Katni- err, Nali's mind, it still is realistic and descriptive.

As for characters, yes, I really have to say, I keep thinking of Nali and Christina as Katniss and Prim. Most probably this is due to the writing style, the situation, and the fact that you don't see much of the characters outside of Nali's mind. In a longer story or a third person one, this similarity would definitely be reduced. As for Christina, I must agree with Grant, she does sound too old, much too old. From the writing, I'd put her at about 6-8, if not a little older. Aside from that, I can’t really find any problems characterwise.

The metaphor of the river was a nice one, and simple. I liked it quite a lot. Nali’s inability to explain it quite right also felt more realistic than if she had given a perfectly scripted reply.

I doubt Christina even remembers Mother. Her parents, my grandparents, came over from Somalia when she was in her late teens.

Slight confusion factor in that it almost sounds like you're referring to Christina there, even though in light of the story, it's obvious that's not the case.

“It’s too hot out, ‘Tina,” I tell her distractedly. Usually, the children’s pastor from the local church came around with food handouts in the summer.

Do you mean 'the children's pastor' in the sense of the pastor of the church the sisters go to or is this some form of pastor I've never heard of? If it's the first, then you switched into third person there.

A lot of us in the low income neighborhood didn’t have enough food for three meals a day, and the church went to grocery stores and collected their extra foodstuffs and tried to make the world a better place by sharing.

I dunno, it seems like you switched from present tense to past tense there...

And I catch myself singing softly, and out of habit.

The 'and' seems unneeded.

“I sing it to you all the time, you should know it,” I smooth her hair that’s woven into tight corn-rows that end in pig tails as I walk towards the stove.

Either make that 'it," I say, smoothing' or turn the comma to a period.

“No, Mommy sang it to us. I remember,” She told me with surety beyond her four years, following me to the stove.

Tells.

“Yes,”

Comma should be a period.

I gently heave Christina off of my lap and stood to check the rice.

Stand/stand up.

“Nali, what about for real?” She wants to know.

I don't think the s there should be capitalize.

Aside from the errors and flaws I pointed out, however, this is an excellent story; you handled the present tense well, despite the slippups I pointed out. The imagery in the story was vivid, and in the end quite touching. I enjoyed reading this, even though., IMO there are other works of yours I like a little more.

Edited by Zarayna: The Quiet Light, Jul 07 2012 - 12:47 PM.

[Replicant]

Wow... This story is just... awe-inspiring.

I do a small amount of community work once a month or so, but even for that small time, I meet people, and I can tell how much they've lost, how much they've suffered. These people, suprisingly, are, most of the time, optimistic in the same fashion as the character Nali in your story is. This is something you've reflected in your story with great skill.

The way you started your story, "My life is not perfect, my life is not good", brought a sense of grounded, gritty realisim story that helped the story so, so much. I loved this story from beginning to end, but the beginning really helped me stay focused and realize just how accurate and touching this story is.

Thank you for the amazing read, I hope I'll have a chance to read more of your works in the future.

[Aderia]

@Zar and SSCC: Thank you muchly, I'll go in and fix up those nitpicks. And Suzanne Collins? Really? =P  j/k

@DAVE: Yes! I admire those people so much, because, like you said, they've suffered and lost so much, I can't imagine how strong they are. And also, thank you, I appreciate you taking time to drop a reivew, I'm glad you like it so much!

Edited by Aderia, Dec 06 2012 - 11:43 PM.

[The Marlfox]

so i was looking at the COT library topic thingy. yeah, it's kinda lonesome, you should submit this to spruce it up a bit. i really liked it, btw. i dont' think i've read much COT stuff from you before, but you never disappoint. i like the story because its eye opening, you don't need to travel to africa or donate millions of dollars to help someone. and also, repeating what other people have pointed out, christina seems a bit too smart for her age. congrats on getting your name in bronze too, btw. obzpcitizenship and whatnot. so awesome story as per usual, very touching. sorry for the late ish review, summer's been busy for me XD

[Steelsheen]

I'm going to cry. Seriously, I never tear up when reading, but this reminded me of a friend I love very much and... And I'm losing it. *reaches for the tissues*

Okay, I'm better now. On a grammar level, of course you did excellent, although I have to admit, I was too busy reading to watch very closely for spelling errors. The characters are realistic without being harsh. 'Tina is particularly adorable. And the story itself is so beautifully real and sad - you said this story was inspired by actual friends? As much as I love Faux and your exciting fanfics, this is what you do best, Aderia - scenes from everyday life, the quiet heroes who never wear Kanohi or save the world. I applaud you.

-HH

[Aderia]

Delayed reaction by like, a lot, but thanks for your thoughts guys, I really do appreciate them, even though this run-on sentence reply post may not be the most convincing. =)

Edited by Aderia, Sep 28 2012 - 03:01 AM.

[Jean Valjean]

I just realized that this was posted half a year ago and is still getting attention.  Impressive, Eponine, but this surely deserves it.

 

I must say that I love these kinds of stories and this is precisely, exactly what I would like to see people write about more often.  That is, those things that are true to life, true to our deepest feelings, and just altogether true.  They capture the pains and joys in this world that are real and important, those things that we should be focused on, and do them uncompromising justice, showing them for all their beauty.  You keep your focus in the real substance to the situation and don't allow yourself to get distracted with trivial matters such as style and wordplay or forced drama.  It all happens naturally.

 

This isn't the type of literature that I always successfully write.  You're a bit more consistent than me in this regard, and you just make me glad that I can have an ever-present reminder of what I want my art to look like.  For that, you have a long-term sense of thanks from me.  This also reminds me of what is perhaps my greatest literary inspiration, Les Miserables, which without compromise depicts humans in all their humanity.  It shows where your heart is.  This is hardly a surprise, though given how boldly we both associate ourselves with Les Miserables.

 

A stylistic element that seems very similar to my own is the small, fast amount of exposition you do right in the beginning to set up background and an emotional tone, as well as an amount of familiarity with the characters.  Some people concentrate on setting up a scene and forcing the emotional tone (which you just allow to come naturally, all on its own, of the reader's creation), and defining a character in a certain moment, but I appreciate that, in order to humanize these people, you make the scene so much more than a brief sensation and actually give us some information on who they are so that we can more fully sympathize with them.  It's quick, graceful, honest, and all-round good writing for a good story, and I must commend you, even recommend you to other writers who are trying to perfect the art of story.  The other element you have in common with me is the simple thoughtfulness that backs the character's emotions that shows that you have a genuine understanding on the situation, and it helps enlighten the readers.  I'm all for enlightening works.  I look forward to more stories like this in the future, because these are the stories that BZPower needs because they're the ones that show us what true beauty is.

 

24601

Edited by Jean Valjean, Dec 01 2012 - 11:37 AM.

[SkyLandOceAnna]

I was going through COT and saw yours. I absolutely love it. Your use of metaphors and imagination and creativity is astounding. I really inspired by what you wrote and wish I could write like that. Since I am now inspired, I definitely want to try and create a work as great as yours. I keep imagining these two girls and all the scene you created.

The one thing I wasn't sure about, however, was the fact that they had a TV. Since it seemed like they didn't have a lot of money, I was wondering how they could afford one. I guess it would depend on if electricity was in the rent agreement, but I like the fact that it is in the story, because it gave a nice opening scene with the two girls.

Thank you!

[Aderia]

@M. Jean & Mlle. Sky: Thank you both for your kind words, they made me smile.

 

And also, I will address this:

 

The one thing I wasn't sure about, however, was the fact that they had a TV. Since it seemed like they didn't have a lot of money, I was wondering how they could afford one. I guess it would depend on if electricity was in the rent agreement, but I like the fact that it is in the story, because it gave a nice opening scene with the two girls.

 

Longer story short, I met the girls that inspired this story teaching kids in their neighborhood and them to swim with a group from my church, and I brought along my Disney princess towel. They recognized the princesses from the Disney channel, which admittedly surprised me. So since then, I just assumed they had a TV in their home, which may be wrong, but like you said, it was probably in the rent agreement. =)

[The Novelist Called Nuile]

Usually I'm not a fan of present tense. But somehow I didn't mind it her. Usually it feels out of place and disruptive to me, but here . . . it flowed. Like a river. Something about your style just made it flow. And the jarring realization I just had that you made several tense mistakes didn't even occur to me until now, after the story. At the time it didn't matter, so I didn't notice.

And that's just how beautiful it was. It really was, very beautiful . . . so sweet, so vivid, so real. It was painful and sad, yet so heartwarming, so cheering, at the same time. And philosophy joined the flow so naturally and fluidically; it's my experience that it doesn't always, that it can become out of place if one is not careful. But here it was perfect.

The ending was perfect. Every story should have an ending like this. It was the perfect note to pay a final compliment to a great story. There are many things that can go wrong with an ending--abruptness, delay, inconclusiveness, as a few vague examples--and that can ruin a story; but that didn't happen here. Excellent, Aderia.


Grammatical issues were several, but even they seemed to get washed away in the flow. Still, I prize grammar, and I can't ignore mistakes, no matter what. Zarayna caught most of these, I think, but I'll emphasize what was most notable to me:
 

She needs taken care of.

I hear a British accent; I see a woman in maid uniform with gray hair and a dirty apron, flailing a feather duster threateningly. It sounds very much like something that woman would say--but not Nali, I suppose. =P

 

"Yes please," Her adorable face with huge eyes lights up at the mention of lunch.

The second sentence was entirely independent of the quotation, so the comma was not necessary.

 

"I…I know that song, Nali," She whispered.

For one, that shouldn't have been capitalized; a quotation only ends in a comma when it continues into an outer sentence that describes the quotation, as she whispered. But because it's all the same sentence, she whispered should not be capitalized. Oddly, the inversion of this rule--when the description precedes the quotation--is an exception; the quotation should always be

For another, you slipped into the past tense for a moment here, and this recurred several times with a few saids and smileds.
 

I gently heave Christina off of my lap and stood to check the rice.

Here, for example, is present tense and past tense in the same sentence. I didn't even notice until I scanned through for a few examples of mistakes! Most of them just disappeared into the flow. How is it possible that your story distracted me even from my esteemed grammar?


Overall, Aderia, this was wonderful, absolutely wonderful.

 

Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith