Raindrops
Quicksilvre
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After tying the Summer Breeze down, Summer waded the last few yards back to her camp. The sun was setting, giving off the vivid orange color that Summer was so familiar with. Taking a towel from the boat back with her, she threw it down on the beach, near the surf, and laid down on it. She stared into the colorful sky and let the dying sun warm her.
Summer couldn't stop thinking about what she had seen in the fisherman's eyes. The reception she got was far from that she expected. She couldn't believe the hostility and pain she saw. Over and over she chewed over everything, wondering what had gone wrong–did she not give it as graciously as she hoped? Was the fisherman just being a stubborn ass? Should she have taken the shark back? She adjusted the shark-jaw necklace. No, she decided, she definitely should not have taken it back. They needed it. Still, something had gone wrong in the exchange, and she couldn't decide what.
She decided that not thinking about it for a minute would clear her mind. Concentrating on the sunset, she made a list of everything that had happened. First, there was the driving in the storm, crashing, and dying. Then there was the introduction to the afterlife, the beginning of her journey, and her rude reception in town. Then, there was the Tongau, Sonn, Jai...Sonn. She'd left Sonn all alone. Maybe that's where she went wrong; maybe she was still a little too immature to be off on her own.
For a minute she thought about that. Seeing the water rolling in, she moved further ashore, near where the sand turned to mud. Just before settling down again, she noticed something rustling in the trees. Taking her broken spear handle, she edged carefully toward the edge of the forest. She could just see something peeking out from behind a tree.
"Hello?" No response. Summer soon realized what she was looking at. She grew more authoritative. "Listen. I am sorry if the shark insulted you. But it was far, far more than I could eat on my own."
The fisherman walked out into view. He now had some face paint on, two lines going across his cheeks and down his throat. "We do not need your charity."
"No. I'm sure you don't." Summer knew from Newport Beach about the importance of keeping appearances. "But I saw the smoke from your fire, and I did not want the shark to go to waste."
The fisherman had no response. Instead, he ducked down and brandished a rusty sword. "I will not permit you to insult my people, girl. You must leave immediately or face consequences for your insolence."
"Your people?"
"Yes, my people. They are no one else's."
Summer thought for a second, staring at the fisherman, as an idea formed in her head. After looking at his face for a few more seconds, she ducked down, took a fingerful of mud, and slowly traced it along her cheek, painting herself in the way of the fisherman. She got back up again, as the fisherman looked at her with mild confusion. "Your people might be your people," she said, "but we're all people. I'm no different."
"But..." Summer never heard the fisherman's response, because it never made it out of his throat. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut, threw one last look at her, and slid back into the woods. After the sound of rustling leaves died, there was no sign of him left.
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Summer looked into a freshly-formed tidal pool. The lines of mud were there, on her face and neck. Yes, it had happened. It was not a mirror-image of the fisherman's but her markings were close enough. Any other visitor to the island could have assumed her to be of the same people of the fisherman and the rest.
And she was, of course.
She walked back to where she was camped. Every bit of doubt had abandoned her. She now knew, with one hundred percent confidence, that she had done the right thing. The only right thing she could have done was to abandon the shark with the tribe. It was how neighbors treated each other, how tribesman treated each other, how people treated each other. And that was exactly what they were.
The sun now was very low in the sky, with just a sliver peeking above the horizon. Its last rays dyed the sky orange and purple as Summer watched the dark slowly roll in. Ever since her death, the sunsets always seemed more vivid, but this one was the grandest of them all. She felt that, for the first time in her existence, she understood how things worked, and nature was giving her its greatest rewards. Sleep began to tickle at her eyelids, and as the sun fully set the color drained out of the sky. The moon and stars came out with the milky way's lazy path. A cool breeze blew across the beach, breaking the hot, humid air. As Summer slid into dream-world, she imagined the earth's pulse synchronize with her own. The breeze felt like a blanket wrapping itself around her shoulders, and the beach like a bed, curving around her in a firm hug.
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She felt herself floating again, like she was when she first died, but the panic of that moment was not with her. Everything was the same–the sterling light, the feeling of numbness, the lack and slow recovery of sensation–except her emotion. Pain was replaced with happiness. She knew that the distance between her and eternal joy was growing short.
As her eyesight came back, and the light faded, she looked for the sign that she knew was there. It was only a few moments before she saw Jai beneath her, waving up.
"Hey, you!"
He laughed. "Fancy seeing you here. Boy, that wasn't long!"
"Jai, is this..."
"Yup. Your time, kid. From here on in, you know what to do."
She felt her lips curl into a smile. "Thank you. See you soon, Jai."
"See you soon, Summer."
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She opened her eyes again. It was morning, and there was no sign of the fisherman or anyone else around her. Yet, Summer could feel herself surrounded. She could feel the fish in the water, the crabs scuttling on the beach, the bugs in the air, even the pebbles in the mud. She was in tune with everything now, and everything would lead her to her final resting place.
She went back to the tidal pool and washed the muddy lines from her face. They weren't necessary anymore; she knew that where she and the fisherman stood. With quiet resolve, she gathered up her towel, took stock of all her things, and untied the Summer Breeze from its rock. Clueless to its workings a day and a half before, she now knew exactly what she was doing. The sea guided her hands along the ropes as its currents stirred beneath her, gently guiding the boat away from shore. When she was far enough clear, the wind took over, catching the sail and tugging her into the open water.
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Stay tuned. One chapter to go!