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Back Daughter of Eden
Chapters (68)
  1. Title page
  2. Dedication
  3. Part I
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-one
  25. Twenty-two
  26. Twenty-three
  27. Twenty-four
  28. Twenty-five
  29. GAIA YOUNG. SUBJECTIVE IMPRESSIONS.MISSION DAY 20. 20:25 MT.
  30. Part II
  31. Twenty-six
  32. Twenty-seven
  33. Twenty-eight
  34. Twenty-nine
  35. Thirty
  36. Thirty-one
  37. Thirty-two
  38. Thirty-three
  39. Thirty-four
  40. Thirty-five
  41. Thirty-six
  42. Thirty-seven
  43. GAIA YOUNG. SUBJECTIVE IMPRESSIONS.MISSION DAY 22. 20:05 MT.
  44. Thirty-eight
  45. Thirty-nine
  46. Forty
  47. Forty-one
  48. GAIA YOUNG. SUBJECTIVE IMPRESSIONS.MISSION DAY 25. 15:30 MT.
  49. Forty-two
  50. Forty-three
  51. Forty-four
  52. Forty-five
  53. Forty-six
  54. Forty-seven
  55. Forty-eight
  56. Forty-nine
  57. Fifty
  58. Fifty-one
  59. Fifty-two
  60. Fifty-three
  61. Fifty-four
  62. Part III
  63. Fifty-five
  64. Fifty-six
  65. Fifty-seven
  66. Fifty-eight
  67. Also by Chris Beckett
  68. Copyright page

She wasn’t the shelterwoman of any man, and, as far as I know, she never slipped with a man, whole time I was with her. I decided after a while that she was probably one of those that prefer other women, like Julie Deepwater back on Knee Tree Grounds, though she never allowed that to herself either. In fact she would often warn people at her shows that it was bad bad for two women to go together like that, or for two men to do it, just like it was bad to slip the back way, or for a woman to say no to a man if she was his housewoman, or for a man to pull out of a woman before he was done. If Mother Gela or Tommy had done any of those things, she’d point out, none of us would even be here.

There were times I wondered if she’d chosen a batface like me to be her companion, so I wouldn’t be too much temptation for her. Sometimes, when she hugged me, she would press her body up against mine, and then suddenly she’d pull back and look me straight in the face, look at the hole between my nose and my mouth and at my twisty gums and my teeth that stuck out all different ways. And it was like it calmed her down, turned her back into a shadowspeaker and me into her helper.

‘You are beautiful, Angie,’ she’d say. ‘You are beautiful beautiful.’

I liked her saying that, of course, but it seemed to me that it was a kind of discipline for her. Like she was making herself say what her head believed to be true, even though her body doubted it. I guess it was a bit like what mothers of batfaced kids have to do as they force themselves through the disappointment and grief, so they can give their ugly babies the love they need. I was to go through it myself, years later, when Candy and Metty were born.

One time, in a little cluster on poolside, a trader came up to Mary after she’d done a show, a man who took bracelets and necklaces made with coloured stones from one cluster to another, and asked her if she could help him. He was a big guy with a big black beard that came halfway down his chest, but it was obvious he was full full of tears. His little daughter back home was sick sick, he said, and he couldn’t bear the thought that when she died she’d be lost forever among the stars and never have anyone to care for her.

‘Where do you come from, dear?’ Mary asked him gently, taking one of his hands.

‘Brown River, mother,’ he told her, as his tears began to flow.