Everyone has a mother. Hers had blue eyes and a smile just for her.
Blue eyes like the sea when it seems far away. Blue, bluer than the sky. Bluer than sadness.
When Kairi plays outside, there are two boys with different shades of blue in their eyes. They are fun to be around, but she is always waiting for the moment their mothers come to take them away.
Take me away, too, Mama…
But the sky turns orange and pink and all sorts of pretty colors that Kairi often likes to look at and still no one comes. When it grows dark, she takes the worried hand of the Mayor's lady and obediently follows her home. The next day, the next day, the next day. They scold her lightly – Kairi, do you want to stay inside tomorrow?
She is patient.
I'm just waiting for my mama and the Lady droops and the Mayor looks down.
Kairi is very sorry she made them sad. She was only waiting.
Mama? She dreams in her room and she wakes up at night surrounded in the blue of her wallpaper. In the morning, she looks out the window and sees water and sky. Both are blue.
She crawls out of bed, smiles at the maid who comes to fetch her for breakfast. There's a sketchbook on her nightstand, a gift from the Lady, and Kairi sometimes opens it. She only drew one picture but it's her very favorite. The pale orange-brown cover of the sketchbook is soon returned to its place, however, and Kairi goes to put on her dress.
After today, she promises she'll stop waiting.
She plays on the beach for a little bit, her friends aren't awake yet, and grows tired of the sand. She thinks about the drawing in her room; the color of the woman's eyes, the little girl, their connected hands and smiling faces. The blue crayon eyes are the same.
Everyone has a mother.
She can only look up at the blue sky, standing up to her little ankles in the blue blue sea and wonder how she could have lost hers.