t (C) 1996 Christy Sheffield Sanford> SAFARA



And he made tongs,
chains, an altar, two
cherubim, ten lavers, ten
candlesticks, ten tables,

four hundred pomegra-
nates, one sea, twelve
oxen, then pots, snuffers,
and spoons . . .





and shovels, and flowers,
and fleshhooks...



Surfacing, she hears shouts and her father's

rising voice. She submerges, then bobs up for

air. She sees her father running toward her, a

servant at his heels. A third man, pale as a

ground nut, tackles her father from behind,

garrots him.


Legs heavy, Safara thrashes through water.

The pale man grabs her wrist, yanks her from

the pool. Screeching, the monkey jumps up and

down. The man shoots him with his musket; he

falls into the water. From his white stomach,

a big red spot moves outward in circles. The

monkey stutters in a high-pitched whine. Safara

flinches as the man shoves her away from her

father. Her captor marches her naked up the

hill. When she turns around, he pinches her

upper arm.


As they enter the village, her brother, friends,

cousins cry out to her. Bodies are strewn on the

ground. A man chains Safara by the neck to her

male cousin who is surprised by her nudity. The

man runs the back of his hand over her breasts.

She bends forward to cover herself then bites

his finger. He slaps her. Another man shouts

for help, her tormenter leaves.


Christy Sheffield Sanford, Copyright © 1996.