Luna’s story….

“Here he comes,” Luna whispered from her hiding place in the bushes.  Her eyes watched the driver of the mail truck carefully, calculating exactly when he would be within range.

“Three…two…” her heart stopped for a moment when her father stepped out onto the stoop of their house.  She glanced from the mail carrier to her father, then back again.  Too early!  He was too early!  Why was he out here?  He should be inside, drinking that disgusting stuff that made him burp.

So what was he doing out here now?  She’d planned this down to the minute so carefully!

All she wanted was what was hers!  She’d found one letter from her mother, surely her mother would send another!  She thought about the carefully pressed pages that were hidden up in her bedroom.  The handwriting was beautiful and curly, the words so hopeful! Luna just knew that, somehow, her mother would come back for her.

“Get in the house!” her father grumbled as he stomped back through the doorway after retrieving the day’s mail.

Luna’s whole body cringed with his words.  She hadn’t been as well hidden as she’d thought.  Obviously.

But tomorrow!  Surely she could find a better hiding place.  And maybe, if she were to go further down the street, the mail carrier would give her any letters addressed to her.  Luna just knew that the mail carrier would let her have any letter written by her mother.  Right?

With a bowed head, she walked back into their tiny house.  At least she had a yard, she told herself.  There were no flowers.  She’d like flowers.  When she bought her own house, she’d have flowers.  And a dog!  Oh, goodness, she’d love to have a dog!  They could walk to school together and her dog would wait outside the school yard until she was released from school.  They would then walk home together and sleep in her bed together.  Her dog wouldn’t have fleas, she thought as her fingers skimmed along the wall back up to her room.  Yeah, she’d have a dog.  And maybe a cat.  But not if the dog hurt the cat.  She didn’t want any animal to be hurt.  Some cats and dogs got along, didn’t they?

Her blue eyes caught her father as he slumped back down into his ratty, old chair, turning up the volume on the television.

Luna was afraid of her father.  When he drank too much of that smelly stuff, he got mean.  He roared and yelled at her, even though Luna was trying to be quiet up in her room.

Closing her door, she curled up in her special place, under her bed in the corner of the room with her stuffed animals in front of her.  That way, if her father looked under the bed, he wouldn’t find her.

Across the room, through a tiny space between the animals, she looked out of her window at the oak tree beside their house.  As she stared at its branches and leaves gently stirring in a breeze, she dreamed about the future, about a time when she could leave this house and never, ever, come back.  Her mother would drive up to the house, open her arms for Luna and they would drive away into the sunshine.  When Luna grew up, she would never get married.  Men were icky, she thought, thinking of her father downstairs.  Nope!  No husband for her!  She wasn’t falling into that trap!  She was going to live free of men forever!

Dassar’s Story…

“I’m going to be a doctor!” Dassar’s tiny cousin whispered with youthful urgency.

Dassar looked down at the little girl.  He was already ten years old and, although Draya was pretty, she was only five.  Draya didn’t know any better.  There was no way she was going to become a doctor, he thought.  But she looked so earnest, he didn’t have the heart to tell her that her marriage was already being arranged.  This war was causing his father, the sheik, to make all sorts of arrangements to strengthen his position against his enemies.  Draya was a princess.  Therefore, she would be a prince’s wife.  She would have many babies and spend her time in the spas, just like the other ladies.

“What kind of doctor do you dream of becoming some day?” he asked, playing along with the fantasy.

Draya’s smile made him want to laugh, but Dassar looked over at his father who was looking stern and serious as the next course was brought in.  Dassar’s father always looked serious and, with the war constantly biting at their borders, it wouldn’t be “proper” to be caught laughing at one of these meals.

“I want to cure people!” she whispered with urgency.  “What do you want to be?” she asked, carefully lifting her delicate cup of tea.

Dassar watched her carefully, knowing that any sort of infraction would cause her to be banished to the children’s table for the next month.  When she had successfully taken a sip of her tea, Dassar lifted his eyes once again to his father.  “I will be sheik one day.”

Draya looked in the same direction, then squinched up her nose.  “No, really.  What do you want to do when you grow up?” she asked, obviously not liking the idea of becoming ruler.

Dassar sighed.  “Draya, sometimes we’re not given a choice in life,” he explained carefully, glancing at the other men in the room.  The women were all conversing quietly as well.  This was a very important dinner, although Dassar didn’t fully understand all of the details.  He just knew it was about the war.   It was always about the war.  “Sometimes, we do what we have to do, even if it means giving up our dreams.”

Draya’s nose unsquinched and she tilted her head slightly.  “I think that’s silly,” she responded.  “But you’re older so you must know what’s going on more than I do.  I’m still going to be a doctor,” she told him and picked up her fork.  “And I’m going to be a good one!”

Dassar didn’t even allow his mind to wander in that direction.  There were no fantasies in his mind.  He knew that the world was a dangerous place and it would eventually be his job to protect his people.  Hopes and dreams were what he would give his people.  They would not be allowed for him.  And he was okay with that.  He knew his destiny and was content.  Just as Draya would most likely be married off for political gain, he too would choose a wife that would help his country, to gain stability to his region.  That was just the way life was.  And if he didn’t like it, there wasn’t anything he could do about it.  He knew that he might not even like his wife.  So be it, he thought and turned to the person on his other side.