SALAZĀ'S JOURNAL
Mother asked that we guide Sana and Sando through Amari until they felt safe enough to walk alone.
They never did, but we didn't mind.
It made Mother more trusting when we left her grasp, especially since she knew we wouldn't go anywhere near that place while they were in our care.
Upon staring at them, I noticed that while they looked similar with their golden skin, Sana's was more like the nectar of agave while Sando's was like that of honey.
Their hair was both black and fell past their shoulders, but hers had a slight wave to it.
While they had brown eyes just as deep and lips just as full, there were slight differences in the shape of other things, such as their ears and cheeks.
"Are you really brother and sister?"
Sana looked away, then back to me nervously.
"What if he is my brother?" she asked.
"Then he is your brother," I said simply. "In Mother's home, we all call each other brother and sister so that no one can tear us away from each other. If he is our brother and you are our sister, then you must be brother and sister, yes?"
She smiled. It was gradual, but she had been doing that more often. Sjino jumped beside her, pointed to the sea, and said, "You see that?"
Shaka, Silio, Shumpa, and Sando were splashing about in the water. He had also gotten braver.
When they'd first arrived, they were frightened of any kind of running water. And here Sando, laughing giddily as he played in it.
Sana still feared water, so we sat and looked around, soaking in the sun.
A sprightly boy of slanted, light brown eyes and proudly lifted cheeks, tightened his hair into a crown-like knot, then eagerly offered juice.
We told him we didn't have cups.
Suddenly, he lifted his large bag and pulled a cone-shaped shell and said it was once home to a mystical sea creature, and once it passed, it became a drinkable glass.
He chirped about as he macheted the fruit on his board, grinded it with water in an emptied coconut, and squeezed the juice in the shell.
"It's really good," I said, taking the first sip.
"Of course, it is!" he cheered. "It's the best juice you'll ever find. Find one better and your next juice will be free."
He offered a toothy, boyish grin. They all had a sip and couldn't help but agree.
"Oh, no!" he ducked, looking ahead. "When he comes over, tell him I'm not here."
"Who?" we asked.
But he already dove into the sea, bag and all.
"Sen," called a man of bushy grey brows and upturned eyes. "Have you seen a boy that looks like me?"
That was the best way to say it. This man looked almost exactly like the boy, with many years between them and a more visible frown on this man's face.
Spots decorated his skin, and his eyes looked heavy and tired. I knew I wasn't the only one who could smell the weight of the spirits in him.
"We've seen no one of the sort."
To our surprise, it was sweet, withdrawn Sana that had said that.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "Then where did you get that shell drink?"
"We made it at home," said Sando, sliding beside Sana, who held onto him.
The man stared at them, then us, as we nodded in agreement, then walked on, stumbling.
Only when the man was far, far away, did this boy miraculously arise, gasping for air. He peered around, tracing over and asked, "Is he gone?"
We nodded, all stunned by how long he held his breath. He still looked both ways as he came to us and took the shell, permitting himself a long sip, then handed it back.
But none wanted it, what with all the ocean water dripping from loosened hair right into it.
"This one's free," he said with a big grin, while fixing his hair.
Then he walked off, flitting his eyes around anxiously.
"Wait," I took his hand.
"Ooh, I see."
He then curled his fingers into mine, smiling dopily. I yanked it back instantly and shoved him.
"Don't get the wrong idea. Who was that man?"
"Him? Just a stranger."
"Stranger?"
"He's obviously your father," said Sjino, sighing. "And from the looks of it, you guys travelled here by sea."
The rest of us agreed. The boy shivered nervously.
"I must go."
"Wait," I said. "Have you never heard the story of the castaway on the boat?"
"There's no such story."
"No, you've just never heard such a story. Do you want to?"
He looked like he was considering, but then a shadow overpowered them and grunted, "There you are."
The father had returned, stumbling even more so.
"I'm sorry," said the boy. "I have to go."
"We're at the home they call Mother's Miracles…if you ever want to hear the story."
He nodded, then joined his grumpy father on the small boat that could barely fit them both. And that's where he helped fit a blanket over his father to rest.
The boy looked ashamed when he saw us looking at him, so he turned away.
It was less than a few nights when the boy, only slightly older than me, escaped his father's grasp, trying to beat him. It seemed his father earned his title as the madman alcoholic of the sea.
The boy wasn't even looking for us either. He just panicked and knocked eagerly on every door until one opened.
We pulled him through a window and tried to sneak him into one of our rooms, but out Mother came.
"Oh, Mother," we all said, heads down, sweating. "Did you meet our friend?"
Mother kept her hands on her hips, unimpressed.
"And your name is?"
"Uh…" he stuttered.
"Senai," I answered.
"Yes," he agreed. "Senai."
Senai thanked us for letting him stay the night and said his father would be sober. We were sad to see him go, but we understood.
We insisted on walking him home and feigned as if we just wanted to see the beach. It was there that he dropped down, crying, when others said that his drunken father had drowned.
Mother almost said no, since we were many, but she couldn't help but take him as her own.
He was also one of the few to convince Mother to take more breaks and go swimming.
He was the best swimmer, and that was saying something compared to me. But he could swim for very long, very fast, and quite deeply too, without needing to recover breath just as quickly.
Senai also knew how to make Mother laugh, and just when she needed a hug. He added shells to the home's decorations and made all sorts of bizarre gifts for us, becoming like a calming and slightly older brother.
"I guess you heard my name is actually Sen. I never liked it, because I was only ever called it when my father yelled," he admitted to me. "Senai, though. It's what was missing."
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