Mara and Dann. Doris Lessing

was sitting up, arms on her knees, and she had never thought harder in her life.

      At home there was a game that all the parents played with their children. It was called, What Did You See? Mara was about Dann’s age when she was first called into her father’s room one evening, where he sat in his big carved and coloured chair. He said to her, ‘And now we are going to play a game. What was the thing you liked best today?’

      At first she chattered: ‘I played with my cousin…I was out with Shera in the garden…I made a stone house.’ And then he had said, ‘Tell me about the house.’ And she said, ‘I made a house of the stones that come from the river bed.’ And he said, ‘Now tell me about the stones.’ And she said, ‘They were mostly smooth stones, but some were sharp and had different shapes.’ ‘Tell me what the stones looked like, what colour they were, what did they feel like.’

      And by the time the game ended she knew why some stones were smooth and some sharp and why they were different colours, some cracked, some so small they were almost sand. She knew how rivers rolled stones along and how some of them came from far away. She knew that the river had once been twice as wide as it was now. There seemed no end to what she knew, and yet her father had not told her much, but kept asking questions so she found the answers in herself. Like, ‘Why do you think some stones are smooth and round and some still sharp?’ And she thought and replied, ‘Some have been in the water a long time, rubbing against other stones, and some have only just been broken off bigger stones.’ Every evening, either her father or her mother called her in for What Did You See? She loved it. During the day, playing outside or with her toys, alone or with other children, she found herself thinking, Now notice what you are doing, so you can tell them tonight what you saw.

      She had thought that the game did not change; but then one evening she was there when her little brother was first asked, What Did You See? and she knew just how much the game had changed for her. Because now it was not just What Did You See? but: What were you thinking? What made you think that? Are you sure that thought is true?

      When she became seven, not long ago, and it was time for school, she was in a room with about twenty children – all from her family or from the Big Family – and the teacher, her mother’s sister, said, ‘And now the game: What Did You See?’

      Most of the children had played the game since they were tiny; but some had not, and they were pitied by the ones that had, for they did not notice much and were often silent when the others said, ‘I saw…’, whatever it was. Mara was at first upset that this game played with so many at once was simpler, more babyish, than when she was with her parents. It was like going right back to the earliest stages of the game: ‘What did you see?’ ‘I saw a bird.’ ‘What kind of a bird?’ ‘It was black and white and had a yellow beak.’ ‘What shape of beak? Why do you think the beak is shaped like that?’

      Then she saw what she was supposed to be understanding: Why did one child see this and the other that? Why did it sometimes need several children to see everything about a stone or a bird or a person?

      But the lessons with the other children stopped. It was because of all the trouble going on, and people going away, for every day there were fewer children, until there were only Mara and Dann and their near cousins.

      Then there were no lessons, not even with the parents, who were silent and nervous and kept calling the children indoors; and then…there was the night when the parents were not there and she and Dann were with the bad man. The good brother was called Gorda. He was Lord Gorda, so said the two who had rescued them. She knew that there was a king and that her parents had something to do with the court.

      She kept trying to put herself back into standing in front of Gorda while he was telling her things and she couldn’t listen, but all she could see was that tired face of his, all bones, the eyes red with wanting to sleep, his mouth with the grey scum at the corners. He was so thin – just like the cart bird. He was not far off dying, Mara realised. Perhaps he was dead by now? And her parents? He had been telling her about her parents.

      And now this place, this village. Rock People. In it a Person. She was sheltering them and she was afraid someone would come after them, but why would they want to? Why were Dann and she so important and, if so, who thought so?

      And as she puzzled over this, the child’s head fell on to her knees and she slid sideways and slept…And then Daima was bending over her and she could hear her brother’s voice, ‘Mara, Mara, Mara.’

      There was a strong yellow glare beyond the window square. It must be the middle of the day. Outside now no voices, no people moving. Time to hide from the sun. It was cool in this room. Mara sat up quickly because of the shrillness of the little boy’s ‘Mara, Mara,’ and was off the rock bed or shelf, and next door, as he rushed at her, nearly knocking her over – ‘Mara, Mara…’ All the fear of the past few days was in his face and his voice and she picked him up and carried him to the rock couch, laid him down and lay beside him. Daima was sitting at the rock table watching how Mara handled the child, ‘There, it’s all right, it’s all right,’ over and over, while Dann wailed, ‘No, no, no, no.’

      Daima said, ‘Try to make him cry more quietly.’ And Dann heard, and at once his sobs and wails were quieter. This is what he had learned: to obey fear. Mara held him, and he hid his face on her shoulder and sobbed softly, ‘No, no, no, no, no,’ and lay still there, but only for a time, because then it began again. All afternoon Mara lay there with him, and then Daima said, ‘I think he should eat something.’ Mara carried him to the table and he looked at the mess, so unlike anything he had ever eaten, and picked up his spoon and tried it, and made a face; but his hunger made him eat, at first slowly, and then it was all gone.

      ‘Can I go out?’ he suddenly asked.

      ‘Not yet,’ said Daima. ‘We are going out at a special time, the three of us. It’s important we do this. Till then, keep in here.’

      ‘Someone was looking in,’ said Dann.

      ‘I know. That’s all right. They’ll all know by now that at least one child is here. Tomorrow we’ll go out.’

      Again he needed to cling to his sister, so she sat herself on the rocky couch and he sat inside her arm and she played the game with him. ‘When we were on the first hill, what did you see? Then, when we got to the second hill, what animals were there?’ As usual, she was surprised and impressed at what he had noticed. Insects for instance: ‘A great spider in its web between two rocks, yellow and black, and there was a small bird tangled in the web. And on the second hill there was a lizard…’ At this Daima said, ‘What lizard, what kind of lizard?’ Dann said, ‘It was big.’ ‘How big?’ ‘As big as…’ ‘As big as me?’ asked Mara. ‘No, no, as big as you, Daima.’ And Daima was frightened, Mara could see, and said, ‘Next time you see one of those dragons, run.’ ‘I couldn’t run anywhere because of all the water. It didn’t want to eat me, it was eating one of the little animals. It ate it all up.’ ‘But when was that, when did you see it?’ said Mara, thinking he was making it up. But no, he wasn’t: ‘You were asleep, and so were the other two. You were all fast asleep. I woke up because the big lizard was making such a noise, it was going Pah, pah, pah, and then it finished eating and went off into the rocks. And then I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn’t wake, so I went back to sleep.’

      Daima said, ‘You don’t know how lucky you were.’

      Mara went on with the game. ‘And when we were going through the water, when we came down from the hill, what did you see?’

      And Dann told them. Soon, Mara thought, she would say to him, ‘And what did you see…?’ taking him back to the room where the bad man frightened him; but not yet. He could not bear to think of that yet, Mara knew. Because she could hardly bear to think of it herself.

      ‘Did you play the game?’ Mara asked Daima. ‘I mean, when you were little?’

      ‘I did, of course. It’s how the People educate our children. We always have. And let me tell you, it’s stood me in good stead ever since.’

      That always