Baptized

A short story I wrote a long time ago. The perspective from which I wrote it was merely an experiment on how I would have expected this kind of thing to play out. I hope you like it

    The water rippled as she moved about through it. It carefully flowed along her bare skin as if making a way for her. She ran her hands under the water, feeling its cool, silky texture. Above the water, her face was being warmed by the sun. For a second, she thought her shoulders were burning. It had been a long, hard day. She had gotten much accomplished though. She had put up the fence on her own, something her husband should have done a year before. That was before he was called off to war. Now, she was alone, trying to care for their three children while their father fought for our freedom. The children were here too. The oldest, who was eighteen, was watching the seven and nine year olds as their mother cooled herself off. She looked up at the bright sky. It burst with an unlimited supply of reds and oranges, dotted with white streaks. The sun was even more overwhelming. It was blistering and so powerful. She wished she could be like the sun. Then, she could make a difference in the world. She could help others even less fortunate than she. They were poor�"dirt poor. Nonetheless, the people around them were friendly and generous. Everyone looked out for their neighbors. It was a difficult life but she knew that, in other parts of the world, people were being sold into slavery and tortured. She vowed to protect her children. She would not let them have that horrid life�"the one she grew up in. She was an African American who had fallen in love with a white soldier. They had half-white, half-black children who were no doubt being picked on at school. They never complained. She worried because she feared the other kids would traumatize them. They were strong and stubborn. She knew that. It was in their mother’s blood�"their blood. Standing in the waist-deep water as the sun beat down on her, she prayed long and hard. She prayed for the other families, for the other people who had tougher lives than theirs. She thanked God as hard as she could for the things they had and their own lives. As hard as things might have gotten in her life, she couldn’t bear to think any bad things about the Lord. She loved Him too much for that. She hoped He loved her as much as she loved Him. She had never read the Bible. In fact, she couldn’t read anything. ‘Illiterate barbarians’ the whites had called them. Her husband, the only respectable white man for miles, had tried to educate them all as best he could. He read verses from the Bible every day. Every morning, he opened the Bible to a page and picked a verse he felt stood out to him. He called these verses ‘divine lessons.’ He thought that God was telling them to remember those verses throughout the day because they would help them get through anything God had in store for them. She had first thought it was preposterous. Little by little, with each day and each new verse, she came to understand and welcome them. She lived by these verses as best she knew how. She had made so many mistakes before. She wanted the best for her children in theses desperate times. Her husband wanted the same. Although he wasn’t physically here with her, she never felt lonely. She always felt an unseen presence with her wherever she went. It was with her every moment of every day. She once told her husband about the feeling. He replied that it ‘must be Jesus.’ He was watching over her when she needed it. She realized that she only felt ‘Jesus’ when her husband wasn’t around. She also mentioned this to her husband. She asked him why she only felt Jesus when he wasn’t around. Her husband has asked her what she thought about that. At the time, she didn’t have an answer. Now, standing in the middle of the river in broad daylight, she realized. Her husband was Jesus in disguise, she thought. That’s why she never felt the presence when he wasn’t around. She suddenly became excited. Coming to terms with her decision, she decided she would tell her husband just what she realized. She couldn’t wait to see him again. She laid back in the water and let herself sink beneath the surfce. As she sunk, she heard voices. The deeper she sank, the louder the voices became. Beyond her closed eyelids, the sun’s brilliance faded. The voices were telling her to give up. ‘You’ll never be a good mother; you’re too sinful,’ they said. They kept repeating those words, much harsher ones as well, and she began to believe them. She began to doubt herself. Worst of all, she began to doubt her beloved God. The shadows and darkness in that deep abyss threatened to consume her. It tried to drag her further into its depths. She let go of herself go. In a blind leap of faith, she decided to try to rely solely on her God�"the God she desperately needed�"to save her. The next thing she knew, strong hands were pulling her back up to the water’s surface. She gasped for air as she came up. Standing in front of her was her husband, the only white man she could trust�"her Jesus. She immediately hugged him. Softly, she heard her little angels calling out to their father. They jumped in the water and swam to him. For a single, happy moment they hugged as a family�"unshaken and not intimidated by the ferocious world around them. She had never felt so powerful. This was what she needed, she said to herself. Her God had saved her by sending Jesus to protect her and her family. ‘Thank you God,’ she whispered on last time. This time, however, she was free of the judgment of the voices of Satan and his demons.

Reviews

[Shannon]

There are some really lovely descriptions in here. The scene is soft and gentle, which contrasts nicely with the harshness to follow.

I would suggest a few things, if you are interested:
Paragraphing in a must, especially on the Cafe
Look at some of your phrasing and word choice. Would this woman use "picked on" or "traumatized"?

Nice introspective piece of writing!