A/N: Because I had time today…..
Travels through the Alphabet with Mai
Part 21: Umbrella and Universe
Along the expanse of Ember Island's public beach, red umbrellas emerged from the sand like strange trees, all tilted backwards at just the right angle to provide optimum protection from the fierce Fire Nation sun. Crouching down at the water's edge, rooting around for shells and starfish, Mai glanced at her mother. The woman sat beneath one of the umbrellas, fretting, half her attention on Mai, the other half on herself. She adjusted beach wear only slightly skimpier than her usual robes and picked at the sand that coated her feet and threatened to continue its creeping journey upwards.
"Not too far, Mai."
At seven years old, the little girl already possessed an unhealthy dose of cynicism. "Whaddya care?" she whispered to herself before humming a favorite tune, something her uncle sang to her whenever he visited.
"Mai, I want you to come and sit under the umbrella for awhile. You're going to get burned."
She turned her back, pretended not to hear and continued to dig with tiny hands. When they grasped a shell prettier than any she'd seen before, a brief flash of delight touched her eyes. Cradling the shell in the palm of one hand, she trotted up the sand toward her mother.
"Look what I found!" She couldn't help her excitement and thrust her hand outward. She stared about then, her expression perplexed. "Where's Daddy?"
Her mother's face soured even more. "He's busy, Mai."
'Busy' was not much of an explanation but Mai knew that pushing would do no good. She put the shell in a bucket, safe from harm and sat for few minutes to satisfy her mother. Other children cavorted along the sand in pairs or bigger groups and a stab of loneliness penetrated the child. It was easy for all of them, easy to talk and laugh and feel comfortable with other children. Mai always felt slightly ill at ease, like a foot shoved into a shoe half a size too small. She pretended not to care, pretended to be bored. That disinterest had built a sturdy barrier between her and others.
Under the umbrella was a dull place to be. Mai began to squirm on the blanket and her mother shot her an irritated look.
"I'm bored."
"You're at the beach. How can you be bored? Look at the other children."
That was about the worst thing she could say to her daughter. Mai would not allow herself to cry, especially not here where others might see. She closed her eyes tight and breathed deep breaths, one hand clutching a bit of the scarlet blanket, the other buried in the sand. Once composed, she ventured away from the umbrella's shelter again. Keeping her back to the long stretch of sand and all those red umbrellas, she sat in shallow water, enjoying the feel of the warm waves breaking over her legs.
"You'll burn," she heard her mother exclaim once more. "You're so pale, Mai. You'll ruin your skin."
Mai settled down on her back. The water rolled in, up around her ears, blocking the sound of her mother out, blocking the sound of laughter and shrieks, blocking the cries of gulls, creating a little universe of her own.