Many of them.
The river was full of them.
“What… what is this place?” Sarah whispered.
Agnes turned to face her fully. There was no pretense left in her eyes.
“This,” she said slowly, “is the big river of crocodiles.”
Sarah’s legs nearly gave way.
“Stepmother,” she whispered, “I’m afraid. How do people cross this river?”
Agnes stepped closer. Her face hardened.
“You are about to find out.”
Before Sarah could understand what she meant, Agnes shoved her with both hands.
Everything happened in an instant.
The ground vanished beneath Sarah’s feet. Her scream tore through the night as she rolled down the hill. Dirt scratched her skin. Stones tore into her arms. Just as she was about to fall completely, she grabbed a thick tree root hanging from the cliff.
Her body swung violently over the river.
Below her, the crocodiles began to move.
Their eyes glowed in the darkness.
They were watching her. Waiting.
“Help me!” Sarah screamed. “Stepmother, please!”
Her arms burned. Her fingers dug into the root as it began to crack.
Above her, Agnes and Isidora stood at the edge, laughing.
“You want to marry?” Agnes sneered. “You will marry the intestines of a crocodile!”
Their laughter echoed over the roaring water.
Tears blinded Sarah.
“I don’t want to die!” she cried. “Please!”
Her grip was slipping.
Then Isidora slowly crouched down.
Sarah looked up at her in confusion.
“Isidora, please…”
But Isidora’s face was cold.
She lifted her wrapper slightly and urinated.
The warm liquid poured onto Sarah’s hands.
Her grip weakened instantly. The root became slippery.
“No… no…”
Her fingers slid. Her nails scraped desperately against the bark.
Then she fell.
Her scream ripped through the air as her body dropped into the raging river. The water swallowed her at once. The crocodiles rushed forward. Their bodies thrashed, their tails struck the surface, their jaws snapped wildly. The river exploded into chaos.
Then, suddenly, silence.
Agnes and Isidora stood above, staring down. They could no longer see Sarah—only the crocodiles fighting and twisting in the water.
Agnes straightened.
“Never mention what happened here to anyone,” she said coldly.
“I won’t, Mother,” Isidora replied.
And they walked away.
They hurried home before dawn, passed the small river again, and slipped into the compound as the sky turned pale gray. They separated quickly, went into their huts, lay down on their mats, covered themselves with wrappers, and pretended to be asleep—as if they had been there all night, as if nothing had happened, as if a young girl had not just been thrown into a river of crocodiles.
Morning came.
Birds began to chirp. Women swept their compounds. Roosters crowed.
Leave a Comment