At the break of dawn, an elderly woman occupied a spot by the shore. Unforeseen warmth in the previous days had caused dense fog to form from the frigid waves during the night. The sea stretched out like a rippling quilt in shades of tranquil blue. Seagulls squabbled and soared above, while a silvery hue lined the horizon, blending where the sun and water converged. A cormorant swiftly flew into that ethereal realm, its wings a blur of movement before vanishing from sight.
Engrossed in observing the rhythmic dance of the waves, the old woman suddenly discerned a dark figure emerging from the mistâa young boy! A powerful wave propelled him out of the water, seeming to deliver him upright onto his feet. He stumbled a few paces, his silhouette contrasting against the mist, his arms raised overhead. But soon, the curling mist veiled him once more.
"Who is that?" the old woman yelled in alarm. They all raced towards the boy, but partway there, the young woman shouted. "There's another one!" She pointed further down the beach.
The elderly woman observed intently as they sifted through tangled clusters of seaweed, jellyfish tendrils, remnants of fish, and debris, gradually unveiling the silhouette of a teenage girl.
Attempting to crawl towards the girl lying on the sand, the boy stumbled and fell face-first.
On either side, several fishing villages lay a mile or two away, but in this particular area, only the exposed and desolate coastline remained, treacherous with rocky outcrops. The boy had successfully traversed through those rocks, likely sustaining severe injuries. His clothing clung to his body like drenched and tattered cloth, evidence of the battering he had endured.
The old lady hobbled toward the unconscious boy and carefully took a seat beside him. Gently, she cradled his head in her lap and turned his body sideways to examine him. As she held his head, she noticed droplets of blood on her hand.
"We must help these children," she stated, her voice filled with determination.
The young woman held the girl tightly against her chest, a mix of concern and sorrow on her face.
"I believe she's passed," the man said, reaching out to hold his wife's hand, offering comfort.
Completely concealed by the enveloping mist, the secluded stretch of shoreline remained devoid of any passersby at this hour. The fishermen had already departed, and even casual wanderers were unlikely to venture to this remote spot. They were alone, without any prospect of assistance.
The elderly woman collected a handful of seaweed and gently applied it to the boy's injury. Her eyes rested upon his youthful yet anguished countenance. His unkempt hair bore the signs of neglect, as if it hadn't been trimmed for days. If he were a local resident, she would have recognized him. The bleeding had ceased by now.
The old lady made up her mind. "The boy is still alive. We must save him. Take the girl, too. We shall see how we can help bring her soul some peace."
The man hurriedly dashed towards a nearby vacant cart. The couple carefully lifted the children and tenderly positioned them on the cart. With utmost care, they transported them to the nearby residence of Amma, who providentially resided in close proximity for immediate treatment. Once they reached their destination, they gently lifted the children off the cart. Both youngsters felt as light as birds, unmistakably malnourished. The young couple effortlessly cradled each child, their weight resembling that of a frail skeleton.
They made a pallet for the children in front of the fire. The old lady ordered a bucket of warm water and a clean cloth from the couple. Then they left together to fetch a doctor.
With great care, she untied the knotted rags that concealed the boy's chest. As the rag broke the surface of the water, steam curled upward, revealing his injured skin. She started by cleaning his face, noticing the fine texture of his skin.
A pang of sympathy ached in her heart as she began cleaning his bare chest. When she touched the cloth to the jagged cut on his side, he let out a soft string of incoherent mumbles.
Meanwhile, the couple had returned with a local doctor from the nearby medical center. He already had his surgeon's coat on. He gave the boy a dose of anesthetic and told them he was bleeding inside. "Please wait outdoors while I operate on him."
They all went outside and waited.
"Will he be okay?" the young girl asked.
"Only time will let us know," the old lady answered. The couple then left to resume their regular chores while the old lady waited outside patiently.
The island was sparsely populated, with only twenty-two quaint wooden houses dotting its landscape. They spread about the end of a desert-like cape. Each had a stone courtyard with no flowers. The surrounding sea tended to be calm and beautiful, and on summer afternoons, all the men would clamber into seven boats and go fishing.
As the sun drew near the western horizon, Amma observed the joyful sight of children pouring out of their houses, engaging in play with blissful harmony; a few mothers running behind them to get them back. This reminded her of her own youthful days.
The wooden door of her home creaked open. Using her cane for support, she stood up.
"The boy will have to rest for a few days. Despite everything, he will live," the doctor said.
"I understand. Thank you for your service," she said.
She removed a gold bangle dangling in her hand and offered it to the doctor.
"No, it's alright. I insist. You've done a lot of things for the future of this island, Amma. This is the least way in which I can repay you."
He picked up the brown suitcase from the floor and bid Amma farewell.
She hobbled about the house in spotless white with one hand resting on her waist to balance her stoop, her silver locks scattered over her face.
She saw the young boy now resting on a mattress, his eyes open.
'So, he's awake.'
He met her gaze, and a split second of panic washed over his face.
Panic washed over his face for a split second, then dissolved away. And why not. What threat could she pose? A short, fat, slightly bent old woman with a crisscross of wrinkles running from everywhere to everywhere.
"Did you save me?" he asked. He jerked upright and sat on the bed.
"I did. Please lie down, child. You still need to be resting."
Once she was certain that the young boy was relaxed, she asked, "What's your name, lad?"
"I'm Neil. There was also a girl with me. Where is she now?"
He must have seen the sadness in her eyes. She remained silent, he understood.
"Oh." A single tear slipped through his eye.
He turned his head into his pillow and sobbed until it seemed his tears would flood the world. Then he curled up in a ball. The misery seemed to have torn his heart. Amma waited until he spent his rage. Then she slowly reached out to cover his hand with her own, trying her best to comfort him.
"I lost my youngest son eight years ago during a plague outbreak. I'm still here while my son is gone. Death is a peculiar thing, always entering through the wrong door. I understand the pain you may be feeling, but it's crucial not to lose faith," Amma shared, her voice carrying both empathy and wisdom.
"I-I don't have any money on me. But I would like to give her a funeral before I continue with my journey," the boy spoke.
"I think that can be arranged." Her voice rasped in her dry throat. Amma stood up slowly and shuffled over to a table bearing an earthen pot. She looked back over her shoulders at the boy.
Just as she had a thirst for water, he had a thirst for speech.
"What's your destination, boy?"
"I want to get as far away from my homeland as possible where the British won't be able to find me."
"That's very vague. Do you have someplace in mind?" she asked.
"Yes, I would like to visit the kingdom of Cascadia."
"Cascadia, eh? Do you know how kindly they'll treat someone like you? You'll stand out like a sore thumb there," Amma said.
"Maybe I would. But I'd still want to go there." He pressed on.
Amma remained silent for some time, contemplating the boy's words.
"There are a few boats that leave every other day during sunrise. Perhaps with a good bargain, they'll take you to the place you wish to go."
He rubbed the tear tracks on his cheeks. "Okay."
"You look like someone who just escaped a battlefield," she said.
"Your assumption is accurate."
"Tell me, boy, aren't you weary? Tired of enduring constant oppression? Of obeying someone else's orders in your own home?" she inquired.
"I have no other options. We're all mere pawns in their game," he responded solemnly.
'Did this child think he was the first who wanted to run from the Britishers?' Amma thought. She sat back and kept one hand still on her stick and another on the chair. "Do you never wish for things to be different? Is running away from your homeland the true solution?"
"My father tried to change things. He's dead now. Hoping for things to change is a pipe dream."
"So then, what makes you think that the people in Cascadia would treat you any better than the British generals? If things got difficult there as well, would you run away again?" Amma sighed and fidgeted with her bangle for a moment. Then she looked up at Neil. "Look, child, if you keep telling yourself that you're too scared to try, then nothing will ever change."
He scowled at her. "Look, can you set up the funeral or not?" His voice held a hard edge. "I just lost the person most important to me. The only thing that is making me go on with my life is the promise I made to her," he threw back the covers and slapped his feet on the floor. "So, if you're not going to help, I'll leave."
"'Give it two days," the old lady declared.
The boy raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Rest for two days, and then we shall commence preparations for the funeral. During this time, follow my instructions. At the break of dawn on the following day, I will accompany you to the fishermen to negotiate a deal, enabling you to depart for Cascadia," she pledged.
Neil removed a thin, platinum chain from his neck. Amma's eyes followed his actions.
"Save it. You will need it later during the bargain," she said.
Neil held the necklace toward her. "How should I repay you then?"
"If you want to pay me, then you would've listened to my words sincerely."
"You're expecting too much of me. I can't make the difference you're hoping to see." He dropped his hands back into his lap.
There was a smile on Amma's face as she studied Neil.
"The weather is quite pleasant today. After resting for some time, if you can stand up, I'll take you outside to see the mares," she suggested.
"Okay. I'd like that."
A/N
Hi thanks so much for the read! If you enjoyed please leave a vote or a comment that's the best way to support me! Thanks so much xx, Anne.