Oscar say.
“Yes?” I replied, chin raised with eyes still tightly shut.
“It’s time to run.”
In an instant, every nerve in my body snapped to attention. Angling just my head toward him, I gave a small nod and then I was running. I staggered for just a moment when my legs got tangled up in the billows of my dress, but then I caught hold of the hem mid-leap and pulled the material up, tucking it firmly into my belt.
Air filled my lungs, and I inhaled and exhaled in deep gusts, my legs and arms pumping in a steady rhythm. Soon Oscar was just a speck on the horizon, and I was surprised to find I was able to jump and balance as well as a deer. Even though I’d never considered myself particularly athletic and had never run at any speed faster than a jog, my fast pace didn’t wind me. I was bursting with energy and relished the feel of my warmed muscles and the dust that coated my sandaled feet.
My hair streamed behind me, the breeze whipping through it like a horse’s mane, and though I was human, and fragile, and very much in danger, I can honestly say I’d never felt more alive. My limbs hummed and all my worries fell by the wayside as I traversed the terrain. I was a creature with nothing to prove and no one to answer to. I was free.
I didn’t stop for hours. But when I finally tired, I instinctively headed toward the distant river. In one section, there was a small drop that created a stream of water where I could easily drink. I crept into the undergrowth by the river, exhaling in hot pants as I peered through the sparse trees and high grasses looking for danger. The cover was thick and I was well hidden, but I waited and watched until I was sure that no one and nothing larger than a squirrel was near before venturing out.
At first, I cupped my hands in the cascading stream and poured the droplets into my mouth, but I found it vastly unsatisfying. I looked both ways and, still seeing nothing, plunged my whole face into the trickling stream, opening my mouth and taking in water in big gulps.
A part of my mind nagged me about the bugs, worms, and diseases of various kinds, but that Lily, the New York City girl, was no longer in charge. I was thirsty. I needed to drink. The river was full of water. I liked the simplicity of it. There was no doubt. No hesitancy. There was only need and the fulfilling of need. The pesky echo of myself was a girl distracted by too many thoughts, and as I drank, I allowed all of my worries and niggling fears to slip into the river and float away.
Satiated at last, I stepped back and plucked at the bodice of my wet dress. The water felt cool and refreshing on my hot skin, and I tossed my heavy hair behind me, irritated by the weight of it on my shoulders. I heard a noise and crouched down, barely noticing that my golden sandals were now mud-stained and the edges of my dress and bare legs were filthy.
A trio of small rodents had come to the water to drink and my belly rumbled. I wondered how long I would be expected to wander the savanna. Would I have to catch my own food, kill and cook it? How would I even start a fire? Perhaps there was some edible vegetation or maybe some kind of fruit.
I stayed by the river, hidden for several more hours. There was no way to explain it, but it felt like the right place to be. After an hour of vainly attempting to catch a fish for a meal, I finally gave up and resigned myself to spending the night not only alone in the middle of the wilderness, but also hungry.
After digging a small crevice in the rocks near the river, I lay down in my little earthen womb, stared up at the stars, and listened to the creatures of the night until the steady sounds of the insects lulled me to sleep.
“Lily! Lily? Can you hear me?”
The urgency in his voice dragged my dreaming self to consciousness, though my exhaustion kept trying to tow me back down to oblivion. “Amon?” I whispered groggily. “How are we able to do this again?”
“Lily? Good, you can hear me. We can only