The Water Bearer

Nimble fingers race to finish braiding the last tufts of Tierra’s hair while she diligently applies kohl to the waterline of her eyes. A young girl kneels before her, securing strings of delicate shells to her right ankle.

The curtains at the entrance of the room part forcefully. An old woman with a limp and cane hobbles in, waving her free arm.

“They’re here. They’re here,” she whispers to the room of women. The pace of the braiding quickens.

“She’s almost ready, Mama Althea,” one of the braiders responds. Her fingers twist and turn with fervor.

“Almost needs to be now, Deena. Did you not understand me? They’re here,” Mama Althea snaps. Tierra rises from the seat and shuffles over to a dusty mirror. Deena and the rest of the braiders follow suit like dutiful bridesmaids carrying a train. They work diligently at finishing her hair.

“Don’t worry, child. Everything will work out. Trust me. I know,” the old woman coos. She rests a gentle hand on Tierra’s shoulder and squeezes. Tierra curls the sides of her mouth into a strained smile.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she says with a whine. “What if this isn’t what he wants? What will I do then?” Tierra fans her eyes, trying to dry the moisture forming in them. A distant rumble of thunder fills the brief silence between Tierra’s question and Mama Althea’s answer.

“Oh, child,” she says. She pulls a small cloth from her skirt pocket and uses it to dab the corner of Althea’s left eye. “How have you managed 35 orbits around the sun while staying so oblivious to matters of the heart? He loves you, dear. You’re all he wants. All he thinks about. Why do you think he keeps traveling through the barrenness of the world to return here to you?”

“But he hasn’t asked to marry. It’s been five years, and nothing. What if I’m just entertainment? What if there are others? What if I’m just one stop on a succession of foolish women?”

Mama Althea waves her hand as if swatting a fly.

“Nonsense,” she says dismissively. “You’re the only one. His one true one. I see the way he looks at you. You’re all he sees. Sometimes men are slow in asking for marriage. They just need a little nudge is all. You’ll see. He’ll take one look at you and fall right to his knees. Trust an old woman. We’ve lived long enough to know these things.”

Tierra nods softly. Her eyes cast low, still filled with uncertainty. Deena cups her hand under Tierra’s chin and raises it.

“Now Tee, the ground is no place for a queen to set her eyes. Listen to Mama Althea. Everything will be fine. You look so good, if the universe had eyes, she’d stop in her tracks and gawk at you. We’d all be dead as gravity collapsed underneath us.”

Light chuckles from the other women fill the room. A crack forms in Tierra’s anxiousness. She laughs.

“How can you joke in my hour of despair, Deena?”

“Someone has to help you relax, or you’re bound to pass out before you get to the important part.”

“Thank you,” Tierra replies. “All of you. Thank you so much for all that you do for me. I couldn’t do this without you.” Pools of water threaten to leap from her eyes.

“Child, would you stop? You’re going to make your kohl run,” the old woman hisses. She tries to remain placid, but her eyes begin to well. “Now look, you’ve upset an old woman.” The two embrace. Deena clears her throat. Mama Althea shakes her head and takes a deep breath.

“Okay, now. You’re only missing one thing.” She pulls three bangles out of a cloth that she’d stashed in her bosom and slides them onto Tierra’s wrist. “Perfect.”

“Mama Althea, I can’t wear these. They’re your marriage bracelets.”

“You can. You will. You already are. I’m a widow. I have no more use for them. They’ll bring you good luck in your own marriage.”

“That’s if he even proposes,” Tiearra grumbles. The old woman sighs.

“Enough, Tierra. Will you please stop sulking and trust that The Mother loves you and has a reason for why things have happened as they have?”

“You’re right. I can do this. If you believe in me, I believe in myself,” she replies. Her voice is resolute. Her shoulders broaden and lift. There’s a quiet moment between the women as they take in everything that has passed. When it’s over, Tierra dips her head through the curtains and into the arid air.

It’s a dry day. The sun must have been slighted because it beams down on Tierra with an intensity that seems excessive, even for the desert. Sand dances in the hot breeze, threatening to irritate her eyes. She pulls a light scarf over her hair and across her face. Off in the distance, she can see the convoy of water and food trucks on the main road. The town’s people are loading baskets and containers to the brim. Some haul them back to the rows of homes where she stands.

Tierra inches down the road, clutching a hand to her stomach. She stops for a moment to convince her lunch to abort its ascent to her throat. Get it together, she thinks to herself as she braces against the side of a building.

“Do you need a drink, ma’am? Are you unwell?” A youth stops in front of her. He offers his jug.

“No, thank you. I was dizzy for a moment, but it’s passed.”

Before he can protest, Tierra resumes walking. She stands a little taller and tries to project an air of confidence and ease. Her stomach stays knotted. The closer she gets to the convoy, the more the crowd dwindles. When she reaches the rear of the line, she scans the faces of the water merchants for a familiar one.

Armed men stand guard by each truck while others pace the length of the convoy, fingers at the ready to fire upon the smallest threat. Many wear wraps and turbans. Protection from the harsh sand and sun. Rolled-up sleeves reveal sun-weathered arms on some and tans on others, distinguishing the experienced from the newly hired. She searches and searches, but she doesn’t find what she’s looking for.

Disappointed and misty-eyed, she turns to leave. 

“Titi.” A familiar voice, like the low rumble of a far-off storm, calls from behind. Four months. It’s been four months since she heard it. A blip in the grand scheme of time, but an eternity for her.

“Avani,” she exhales. The sound of his name is almost imperceptible. Turning, she gazes into the dark brown eyes that she knows so well. He stands before her, the soft lines on his face crinkling as his full lips curl into a smile. He is coated in a layer of sweat from his forehead to his neck, where his collar does its best to hold the moisture. Thick dreadlocks frame his face, the tips of which graze his firm chest. He looks the same, except a tinge more salt has crept into his beard.

As she takes him in, he returns the favor. His eyes scan the length of her body. He lets out a grunt of approval. She wants to leap into his arms and kiss his cheeks, but instead keeps her composure.

“Are you free tonight,” he asks in a hushed tone. Her insides flutter.

“Yes. Always. Of course.”

“Same place?”

“Yes,” she replies. Her voice betrays her eagerness. He gives a knowing nod before walking back to the water trucks to help the last of the townspeople unload.

They meet at sunset at their usual hideaway. An old wooden building that used to serve as a barroom and community center before a fire ravaged half of it, forcing the town to erect a new and improved building. This time they take care to make it fire-resistant. The old mayor sees the fire as a bad omen and instructs everyone to build on new land. Tierra and Avani are among the few brave enough to venture into the area.

His hand rests on the small of her back as he presses his lips into hers. She shifts in his embrace. Pulling back, he studies her.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No. I, uh. I, um.” She knows the words she wishes to speak, but her tongue ignores them. Avani smiles knowingly.

“Is it your menses?”

“No,” Tierra laughs. “I want to talk to you, but I don’t want to ruin the moment.”

He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him. Placing a tender kiss on her forehead, he leans back and gazes into her eyes.

“You could never ruin the moment for me.”

“That’s what you say now.”

“That’s what I say forever. Come on. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

When she remains silent, he continues. “I know our arrangement has been hard for you. It’s been hard for me too. The moments of passion feel so fleeting when mixed with the months of separation. Don’t worry, though. I’m working on a plan for us to be together. It’ll happen sooner than you think.” 

“You’ve been saying that for the past three years.”

“Yes, and I’ve been working on it for the past three years.”

“I’ve yet to see that,” she says angrily. Her voice betrays more of her resentment than she wants. Avani’s arms fall away from her. He takes a step back and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Not this again, Tee. I’ve spent weeks on the road making my way here. I just want to relax. Please don’t start this now.”

Thunder booms overhead just as her bitterness explodes into rage.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Where are my manners? What would you like me to do first? Cook dinner? Lift my dress? Fellate you?”

“It’s not like, Titi,” he replies with a grimace. “And you know it.”

“I know no such thing,” she retorts. Her words are laced with disdain, and her eyes spew venom. A flash of lightning and a thunderous clap. Avani’s forehead wrinkles as he glances up at the sky.

“We’ve been over this already. A million times. I won’t have you as my wife until I know that I can protect you and provide for you. I just won’t. A real man doesn’t show up to a woman empty-handed. He brings something. He finds resources and builds something to offer her.”

“I’m not looking for that. I’m looking for commitment. Companionship!”

“What will you have me do, Tee? Marry you and then take you on the road with me? It’s no place for a woman.”

“Marry me, and I’ll live here.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense, and you know it. Wherever you are, I have to-”

“Be there to protect me,” she mocks. “I get it. I’m frail and incapable of caring for myself. Yes, you’ve mentioned.”

“It’s not like that, Tee. I told you that I have a past. There are people still looking for me, waiting for me to slip up. If they found out I have a wife, you’d be in danger.”

“Avani, do you hear yourself? It’s absurd. Our relationship isn’t a secret. Everyone knows about us.”

“That’s different, though.”

“Different, how?”

“They think you’re a comfort along the journey, a distraction from the desolate road. They don’t know what you really mean to me.”

The words escape Avani’s lips before he can grab them. They’re not what he truly wants to say, only what slips out in a moment of frustration. If only time was a watch that could be rewound.

“Wow.” Her voice falters. A tear starts a slow march down her cheek. “You believe people thinking of me as your whore is a good thing?”

“What,” Avani asks uneasily. “No. Never! That’s not what I meant!”

“It is,” she squeaks. “It might as well be.” She shudders. Some of the clouds in the sky take pity on her. They weep. Droplets of rain land on Avani’s shoulders. A few at a time initially. A soft, steady patter follows.

“Tierra,” Avani says. The lines on his face turn to canyons.

“You show up,” she cries. “And you fill my head with nonsense. And I let you. How could I let my love for you make me so stupid?”

He stares at the sky instead of looking at her. She sucks her teeth and wipes away her tears.

“You’re not even listening to me. You never listen to me. I am here in anguish, and you’re more intrigued by the stars.”

“Something’s wrong. It’s not supposed to be raining. This is the dry season. It shouldn’t rain.”

“And I shouldn’t have been dumb enough to get pregnant by a noncommittal, absentee partner, but here we are.”

His eyes snap down from the sky and lock onto her with an intensity she’s never known.

“What? What did you just say,” he asks. He grabs her tightly. She tries to speak, but uncertainty closes her throat. His head darts like a bird’s. She tries to pull away, but his grip is firm. His fingers dig into her upper arm.

“Let me go. You’re scaring me.” Her words reach him, and he releases her. He paces before her, mumbling frantically. Tierra wonders if she yells if anyone will hear her. And if they did, would they get to her before he hurt her?

“Look, just forget it. I can handle this myself. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean you have to want the ba-”

He lurches forward and clasps a hand over her mouth. Terror emanates off of him, seeping into her. It’s so strong she would believe their bodies had merged.

“You’re in danger. We have to go right now.”

He grabs her hand and runs toward town before she can object. She wants to resist, but the fear courses through her, telling her legs to run in spite of herself.

“Uriel! Uriel,” Avani screams. A brown-skinned man with locs turned reddish-brown by the desert sun jumps out of one of the vehicles. Avani releases Tierra’s hand and bolts ahead. He jumps into a water tank, grabs a bag, and leaps back onto the road.

“We have to go. Now,” he shouts at Uriel.

“What’s going on?”

“They’re coming! They’ll be here any minute.” Color drains from Uriel’s face. The rest of the men in the convoy gather to observe the commotion.

“What? No! Impossible We’re well hidden. We were careful!”

Just above them, the air crackles, and the temperature drops. Three forms appear in the sky.

“Collectors,” a man shouts. Gunfire. Bullets whip through the air like rain. Avani dives on top of Tierra. They take cover beside Uriel. The men aim at the Collectors. With gentle flicks of their wrists, they avert bullets and throw the men into the air like dolls.

“How did you know,” he shouts to Avani over the sound of screams and metal being pelted. Avani squeezes Tierra’s hand.

“She’s a water bearer.”

“A water-bearer! Is that why it’s raining? But how? You’re an earth mystic. Your seed should be earthseed.”

“I don’t know how it’s possible. I just know that it is.”

“Everyone from a water lineage was annihilated decades ago.”  

“What’s happening,” Tierra cries. The rain overhead picks up. Avani grabs a handful of sand and holds his palm up. A sproutling emerges from the silt. It grows until it blooms into a rose.

“I’m a mystic from a line of cultivators and restorers dedicated to protecting the earth. You’re pregnant with our child, a water child. That’s why it storms when you’re upset. The baby feels what you feel and responds.”

“Water mystics were killed off during a brutal power grab before any of us were born,” Uriel continues. “It was a successful strategy to control the world’s population and keep everyone dependent on a handful of companies to provide potable water. Earth and water mysticism is a powerful combination. You can grow anything. You could transform the world such that everyone has access to rich soil, clean water, verdant gardens.”

“You mean someone chose to destroy the people who could save the world,” Tierra asks. Her heart breaks for strangers she never knew. A mangled body falls beside them. Several vehicles are on fire. Men limp and crawl away from the road. Uriel grabs each of their hands, closes his eyes, and inhales.

“They did. However, Source has seen fit to bless us with a new opportunity. Let’s seize it.”

Uriel rises from their hiding spot. A Collector locks eyes with him right before he is consumed by a flame pouring from Uriel’s right hand. With his left, he aims for the tank on one of the trucks. An explosion sends the second Collector flying into a light pole. Avani forms a boulder and releases it on the man’s head.

The third collector plucks Avani from the ground and hurls him down the road. Tierra screams and extends her hand to Avani. Three of the tanks burst open and form a sphere of water around Avani. He stays suspended before the waters break and drop him softly on the ground.

“A water bearer,” the Collector gasps. He prostrates himself on the dusty road. “Please, goddess. Forgive me.” Uriel raises his hand toward the Collector.

“No,” Tierra commands. “Let him live. “Let him tell the others what happened here.”

“They’ll never stop coming after us if they know what happened here,” Uriel cautions.

“So be it,” Tierra responds. "We’ll be ready."