Abra

Joan Barfoot

Chapters (18)

Cover

Abra

Title Page

Abra

A novel by Joan Barfoot

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ePub ISBN 9781770862715
Kindle ISBN 9781770862722

Abra

1

My name is Abra.

I had almost forgotten that; the naming of things lost its importance here, with no one to hear them named.

And so, until just now — you see I am remembering time as well — “Abra” was gone. Now she is here again, as are so many other things, memories, and I do not know any longer. I thought the struggling time was over. I had forgotten it. I had forgotten so many things.

Abra. An odd name. Today I have said it over and over, making the sounds, making it disintegrate into nonsense. The harsh “A” at the beginning, sliding away into softness. Abra. That is my name; it is what other people have called me. It loses its meaning with repetition. My name. Abra.

2

It should have been obvious one of them would turn up, one day. I am glad, though, that I did not think about it. It would not have helped.

The girl is pretty, very pretty. I can see her clearly from the garden, where I have been thinning the lettuce, checking growth, weeding; I do this every day, and it is going to be a fine season. She is walking slowly toward the cabin — is a car waiting for her somewhere, or can she have walked all the way from town?

She seems a very pale person, but then my own hands working among the plants are now so brown that I cannot really be a judge of pallor. She doesn’t notice me squatting in the garden. I imagine she knocks very softly on the door, for she looks timid. I consider, at first, staying where I am, waiting, quiet, until she leaves. But she looks around and her face is frightened, so vulnerable, I think I must do something, for I am strong and think it can do no harm. I stand, brushing soil from my hands, wiping them on my jeans, wondering how to approach her so that she will not be more frightened.