My head aches like someone tried to drill holes in and through it. It feels swollen and too heavy to lift. My eyelids feel like they have been glued shut and there is an incessant ringing in my ears. With every breath I take, moist rattling tells me that something is stuck in there but I don't have the strength to cough. Just taking a deep breath is hard as if my lungs have decided to stick themselves together with thick rice paste.
Someone helps to sit me up and strokes my back until I am able to finally gain a deeper breath. The deeper breath causes an unbearable itch which results in wheezing coughs. The coughing squeezes my tummy and makes me throw up what liquid is in my empty stomach. A baby's crying can be heard nearby, making the ache in my head pierce deeper to the point where I feel limp and faint.
Bitter water is brought to my mouth and I am encouraged to take little sips. Porridge brushes my lips but when I try to eat, I choke for lack of breath and the porridge explodes out of my mouth. There is an exclamation and I feel myself and everything being wiped down. A small hand strokes my arm. Every breath results in choking coughs until finally, something wet and sticky jumps out. My back is patted and stroked until my lungs finally feel clear enough to take a deep breath again.
Resting to catch my breath, I lean against a warm presence by my side. By the time my breathing has relaxed again, I have drifted back into the dark.
Red jumps out at me in my dreams.
It follows, chases and envelops me.
My heart. My heart. My heart.
My people lay dead at the gate, stuck full of arrows.
My head. My head. My head.
A flopping, headless body spurts and sprays.
The red is on my face. On my hands. All over my body.
It burns. It burns. It burns.
"Wake up, my Lady," I hear the shout. "Wake up! Wake up!"
Yellow robes flutter through a doorway, its cloying perfume reaching for me.
"Wake up, my Lady," another voice cries. "Wake up. You're safe here. We've got you. You're safe."
Stony eyes want to drill in through my body to possess me. I don't want to be here. Save me. Somebody, save me.
A baby crying and pulling at me reminds me.
Baby. My baby. My Baby Tofu. I have to protect him or he might disappear too.
Grasping my baby to my chest, I leap up and run.
I can't run far. I collapse by a tree and open my eyes to find my crying boy in my arms. He pats my face and I wipe his, while I gasp for breath.
"Mother," my baby says. "Mother."
His second spoken word.
My aching heart melts and the nightmares fade away. I am pulled back to the present. Where I am. Who I am. Names of those around me.
"Baby," I manage to give a small smile. "Baby, Mother is sorry for scaring you."
"Mother," Baby Tofu says and bursts into tears, burying his face in my chest.
"Baby," I murmur and rock. "Mother is here. Mother is here."
Fighter kneels by my side and his eyes become watery when I flinch from him, turning away slightly. He pauses there a long time, until Gentle Whiskers puts a hand on his shoulder and sends him away with a look. Fluttering Bird and Swaying Blossoms help pull me up onto my feet, while I cradle my baby that refuses to let me go. My baby is getting heavy. I can only take a few steps with him in my arms. Baby Tofu refuses to let anyone else take him from me. In the end, the stool is brought over for me to sit. Every few steps, I stop and sit, until I am back at my bed.
With a sigh, I allow my girls to tuck me in with Baby Tofu who is now hiccuping. Fluttering Bird gives me a cup of water which I feed first to Baby Tofu and then finish. I see Song Thrush come up the path to check on us and see pity in her eyes. Fluttering Bird speaks to her and sends her away.
Pity. I don't want pity. I don't need pity. Leave me alone.
Fluttering Birds sings me a song of plum blossoms dancing in the wind. This time my sleep is peaceful. Drifting. Soft.
Fluttering Bird and Swaying Blossoms never leave my side after this. There is always one of them nearby. They take turns sitting beside my bed until I am better, but the nightmares do not overwhelm me as they did before. Baby Tofu also refuses to leave my side and always makes sure I am within sight. When he does go away, the first thing he has to do is return to check on me. I don't know when but he has started crawling everywhere. Not like before when it was half swimming, partly bottom shuffling and partly crawling.
We sew padding into the trousers of his knees but he still wears them out very fast. He crawls faster than I can walk and has been practising everyone's names. 'Father' and 'Mother' are still the clearest words he can say. My sweet Baby Tofu fills my days with joy. He makes me laugh and smile. He brings me fresh flowers or leafy twigs every day.
As for Fighter, right now, I don't want to see him. Can't stand the sight or the touch of him. Although I refuse to let him touch me, I still find myself in his overly tight and irritating embrace in the mornings. Gentle Whiskers says that time heals all wounds but I don't know. I don't know. I don't want to know. Forgiveness is not easy. It's a painful, conscious choice that I have to keep making as often as I can remember and sometimes... sometimes I just don't have the strength to continue doing so.
That's why it's better not to remember.
So I cut off the memories and settle down into the slippery life of Tofu. Simple Tofu. It's better. No need to think. Just keep breathing. Just take things as they come.
By the time I am able to go down to the building site again, the well has been completed. A stone stair has been built into the side of the well and then covered over with a wooden floor. The well is covered with a wooden cover and a strange contraption with a handle sticks out one side of the well wall. When the lever is pumped, water cascades out. Amazing. This way, I will not have to struggle with pulling heavy buckets of water from the well, nor slip on the stone steps if I want to scoop water. This way, I can place a container under the spout, pump the handle and water will gush out. It's messy but oh, so much easier.