Mother And Child
She told him, it, her last words, "Tell my mother I'm sorry". She
told this to him in her native tongue, the tongue her true mother
spoke, the mother she did not know. It said something to her in his
own tongue, the tongue her mother with the eyes as rich as the blue
sky speaks, but the words escaped her then. She fixed on its eyes and
understood the simple truth. She was going to die tonight.
It had been a month since she had begun learning the intricacies of
the Chinese culture and with the language as well. Fookien,
Cantonese, Mandarin. Rose McGovern knew all the basics of the
dialects by heart, her assignment would no doubt take her across the
vast landscape of dragons and brick walls.
Her wrist flexed with great care as she wrote the letter equivalent
to tree in Mandarin, she had now begun to immerse herself even to the
painstakingly accurate art of calligraphy. Just then the door to her
spare room opened and the man she had just married entered, "It is
"My bags are there," she turned to face him slightly to point at the
corner. "Have you said your goodbyes?"
"What's the matter with you? You speak as if we'll never come back
here again," he nervously laughed picking up the bag.
The girl clasped her hands together and listened meekly at the
conversation, her father had welcomed the fair haired woman and man
into their home, she understood through the conversation that they
were looking for a young girl to be a servant. It was strange to her
because she they had traveled all the way to their small village from
Shanghai to find one, but she found herself drawn to this woman as no
doubt the woman was drawn to her.
"We will pay you what is right," the woman with the hair as fair as
the grain of harvested rice plants and eyes like the trembling body
of a quiet lake said. She laughed unintentionally. The European
turned and smiled at her while her father gave a disapproving stare.
It is night and the Slayer is born when the other died, she roams the
street. They roam the street, servant and master, Slayer and Watcher.
"You are not my mother," it hurt saying this to her, but this was all
she could do now to save her. Disown her like she was really related
"You say that but you don't mean it," Rose smiled looking at her
hands, the ring that came from her husbands cold dead finger in it.
"Leave this place now or they will find you."
"I don't care, I have nothing left to lose," Rose frowned dryly.
"You say that but you don't mean it," now the girl with hair as black
as the evening sky spoke. "Please save yourself, leave this country
"Then go with me, because if you stay here, they too will find you
and kill you."
"This is my land, this is my people."
"But your God is my God," the Watcher tried to explain.
"I'm not afraid to die, I've been dead ever since you bought me like
She opened the envelope slowly and tore off the seal of the Watcher's
Council. The paper, crisp, unraveled in her hands the message was
cold, cruel but expected. Her Slayer had died. Her hands slowly
closed to a fist, the letter engulfed in them, she swallowed a bitter
tear for her Slayer. Her Daughter.