*Spring 2011* Three Years After 2006
Your mjomba, Zuberi, would tell you, "Oh, that Anansi spins the trickiest webs, so confusing and frustrating! But that's how he makes excellent stories."
"Life is a confusing one, but that's what makes a good story."
He'd then add, with a hearty chuckle, "Well, that's what my auntie would tell me."
His wife, Emiyo, would respond humorously, "Your auntie said such strange things."
She'd join him in laughter. You never quite understood that, back then, why Emiyo would laugh at something confusing. You especially didn't understand your mjomba and what he said. Anansi you knew, that spider trickster god, your mother often told you stories about him when you were a child. Your mjomba told you that nine years ago when you were 11 and came to live with him and his wife in Japan. He said it often, leaving you confused, but after some time, you understood it.
Life was crazy. But good. (Your interpretation).
You wondered, gazing pensively at the surrounding Mediterranean Sea, as you stood near the water's edge, being mindful of the gentle lapping evening waves coming up, nearly nipping at the hemline of your wedding dress skirt. It was tempting to let even the sea foam touch a minuscule part of your dress; the pull was great as the water's current took bits of sand with it when receding. You envied those sand particles right now; they could be taken away, far away, and freely go with or against the current.
You missed that feeling.
Frustration seethed through you beneath your exuding external serenity. It was as though someone was gagging you, preventing you from screaming. Those who could read your placid presentation outwardly and in your eyes could see it.
Those who couldn't see, saw nothing but a beautiful, petite 18-year-old bride, dressed in a soft gold A-line dress with an intricate embellished off-shoulder design and a hugging waistline, drawing attention to your shapely, elegant figure. The color of your dress brought out your caramel-brown skin and all its hues. Your arms were left bare, your hands perfectly manicured; not even your newly acquired wedding ring (white gold with pear cut) adorned your exposed arms. A long skirt flowed behind you, with your long, wavy orchid hair gathered into a tousled chignon, with a jeweled star hairpin delicately placed, stopping at the nape of your neck. Strands of loose hair framed your heart-shaped face, and of course, your makeup was naturally applied.
Poised and picturesque, as any bride should be. Many complimented you, not necessarily your appearance, but your 'great luck.'
Yes, great luck, you scoffed internally, being mindful not to show it.
You didn't feel great luck, not with this aspect of your family, and you knew why many said those words; the anguish gnawed at you inside like termites.
Your mjomba's saying echoed again in your drifting thoughts, drowning out the distant sounds of lively and joyous music from the white villa a quarter mile from where you stood.
The irony of such music being played and the ambient and harmonious atmosphere that permeated the true intentions. This would seem like just any other wedding.
The gentle sound of lapping waves returned to a part of your senses, enough for you to take a light step back in your heels. The waves receded, and your foot slightly twitched to take a step forward and follow.
"I won't do that," warned a gritty, husky voice followed by a puff of smoke.
The unmistakably pungent smell you knew too well and that voice, Shiu Kong, the man that simmered your blood and was partially the cause of tonight. His presence slightly brought you back. As much as you wanted to frown, you remained composed and content, albeit bitterly.
You kept your back to him, and your gaze on the sea, but the soft crunching of his calm, stoic footsteps approaching interrupted the tranquil sound of the waves.
From the corner of your eye, you saw the soft, cherry-red glow of a cigarette burning brightly against the darkening evening.
Another puff of smoke followed. You remained unfazed.
"If you have any thoughts of leaving before I get paid, don't," he continued, with a deep inhale.
You said nothing. You weren't in the mood for conversation, especially with him.
He noticed and kept talking anyway. "Most brides are happy on their special day, even in your case. You even got to marry a former friend after years apart."
Your brows almost frowned.
"Most romantic movies consider that good. If you don't want to see it that way, at least you got a new house out of it. After the party and everyone leaves. Not too bad if you ask me. I'm kind of jealous."
Again you said nothing, only taking a light step back to avoid the waves.
Silence settled between you both; you preferred it. To fill it, he inhaled and released another plume of smoke. This one was heavier and thicker, causing you to cough and turn away, breaking your poised posture.
"You good?" he asked, taking another inhale.
He watched you for a moment and then noticed his cigarette was halfway finished. After a few more coughs, you finished and tried your best to straighten yourself out. When someone else arrived at the top of the path and spotted you.
"I found her! I found her!" shouted a child's voice. You felt goosebumps run across your arms, knowing who it was and who followed, and, importantly, what could follow.
It was hard to control your body as it trembled when the child's footsteps raced across the sand to you. Your demeanor completely switched, and your vacant look was quickly replaced with a warm and happy glow.
"Nanako, you did find me," you turned to face her and gently caught her just as she stumbled on the sand while trying to get to you.
Steadily, you held her, being mindful of yourself. Your eyes scanned her over for any abrasions on her white, sleeveless, flower girl dress with a satin sash around her waist. You couldn't help but admit she looked charming in it, with her long, caramel hair braided back. Her twin sister, Mimiko, also looked charming.
Seeing nothing and no injuries on her, your shoulders relaxed slightly. Nanako, though, was catching her breath. Gently, you placed a hand upon her back and rubbed it.
"Nanako, are you alright?" you asked gently, your voice filled with genuine concern.
Shui was surprised to hear that from you and see your actions. Nanako took another moment to catch her breath as you assisted her in standing up and then blurted out in a demanding tone.
"Why'd you leave?"
You weren't surprised by her outburst or her reaction, grabbing and tugging on your wrist. You were surprised by the large, painful tears running down her cheeks. For a genuine moment, you were stunned, and to Shui's surprise, you gently kneeled down to her level with a tender expression.
Releasing her wrist, you gently wiped away her tears.
"Why'd you leave," she muttered softly, trying to hide her tears behind the hand covering her eyes.
A tinge of guilt hit your heart from her words. You took her hand and squeezed reassuringly; she squeezed back. She looked at you, her eyes unsure and still filled with remnants of pain, but no fear. The guilt now twisted in your heart; you didn't mean to cause her to feel this way and smiled warmly at her. Her frown didn't lift, as you figured it wouldn't. You opened your mouth to speak, only to shut it when his voice entered.
"Shui, are you trying to soil my beautiful bride with your harmful fumes?"
Your blood ran cold.
Shui smirked and took one more puff of his cigarette before putting it out and expelling the smoke away from you. "You didn't mind it before, Geto."
Geto chuckled, walking over with Mimiko. She left his side and hurried over to you and Nanako. You didn't notice her at first, still frozen in your spot until she called your name.
You snapped out of it and forgot the words to greet her. Your focus was on Geto's approaching steps. You could feel a tremor coming and had to quickly rid yourself of it before he came over and—
His hand appeared before you, open and welcoming, as he stood over you. "Now why is my bride like this? You'll ruin your dress."
You held back your tongue, knowing you needed to say something, and, importantly, you needed to take his hand. Your eyes stared shakily at it; it was Geto's but not the Geto you knew. Ninety-nine percent of you wanted to pull back, but that one percent screamed at you to take it.
Seamlessly, your hand slid into his, and his hand folded around yours. If you wanted or tried to take it back, you couldn't due to his hold, despite the delicate way he held and helped you up. That tremor came back; you suppressed it and reminded yourself to smile—with your eyes and lips.
The girls began dusting off the sand on your skirt. Nanako did so, fussing that Mimiko wasn't doing it right. The sight almost cracked a genuine smile and, dare you say, a soft chuckle from you. You kept your eyes on the girls when you should have been looking at Geto.
Shit!
You realized and panicked inside. You weren't giving him your attention; the tremors slowly returned. You felt them in the tips of your fingers and crawling to your hand. If they reached your hands, then… then—
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice Geto quietly leaning in near your neck until you felt his breath stir on your skin, sending silent shivers in that area.
Startled, you remained composed and automatically turned your eyes to him. The girls smiled, seeing Geto near your neck; Nanako giggled and turned away. Shui rolled his eyes and averted his gaze to the shell on the sand.
"Save it for the wedding night," he said, clearing his throat, trying hard to disguise his discomfort.
You heard a deep chuckle come from Geto, which didn't help your shivers. Geto seemed to notice and finally lifted his head, with a devilish smirk he flashed at you.
Your heart lurched out of reaction. That look… you didn't like it.
"Just making sure my bride still smells lovely," Geto affirmed. "She does."
Shui grumbled and looked up at Geto. "Yeah, I'm sure. So," his eyes shifted to you, then back to Geto, then passed you both to the villa, "will it be soon I'll get paid? Nine months from now, right?"
You felt your breath nearly snatched away, knowing what he meant. Geto subtly squeezed your hand gently.
"You'll get paid. Now isn't the time to talk about that," he said, with a subtle warning, "plus there are children present."
Nanako rolled her eyes, offended. "We're not kids."
"No, of course not," he agreed. "I just meant that now isn't the time for you two to be dealing with this."
Mimiko leaned into your abdomen and tilted her head. "Our family will grow bigger, right?" She laid a hand on the spot.
You shrank inside; god, you hated your family. You hated this, and you just wanted to be a grain of sand.
Lost in your thoughts, you forgot to answer her.
Your mjomba's saying seemed fractured now.
"Eventually," Geto answered, bringing you out of your thoughts and setting your fear in.
Shit!
Geto took over, "Why don't you all head back so my bride and I can have some time?"
"Save it for the wedding night," Shui smirked, taking out a cigarette as he walked away and lighting it.
The girls were left. Mimiko nodded and began walking away. She stopped and turned around to ask.
"We're still taking the family photos?" Her voice filled with hope.
"Yep," Geto assured with a promising smile, "the first thing we'll do when we get back inside."
She nodded, relieved, and waited for Nanako. She was still dusting off the sand when there was none left.
"Nanako. Go," Geto firmly said.
She huffed and sighed but obliged. Before she left, she quickly hugged you. You reacted this time and returned it.
You and Geto waited until they were out of sight. It was quiet between you and him, minus the waves and gentle breeze. You both stared out across the waves. Your thoughts slowly traversed to memories before. This unspoken silence; your heart began racing, beating against your chest. You tried to control it so he wouldn't hear, but it didn't work.
"You seem unhappy," he spoke in a measured tone. "Why?"
Your tongue faltered; you shouldn't be surprised he picked up on it, but you at least thought... did you not display enough happiness? At least to shake his perception.
He shook his head, with a knowing smirk, "Come now, May. I can tell what you're thinking. It's not hard." He scoffed, "We've known each other for years."
He wasn't wrong.
"Let me guess: you were thinking about that saying your uncle used to say. About Anansi and webbing," he light-heartedly chuckled, "he always said the strangest things."
You wept inside thinking of your uncle. Geto kept going.
"Then after, you were thinking of a way out. To be a grain of sand, right? Then just now about everything before this. Everyone." He sighed with slight annoyance, "always the sentiment, aren't you? That's why we're here," his tone momentarily soften, then quickly darkened, "What did I tell you?".
You said nothing, forgetting the words.
Your lapse in answering furthered his annoyance, and you felt the heat of his eyes as you tried not to tremble.
Geto tilted his head down and came extremely close between your ear and collarbone. You could feel his every breath as he whispered authoritatively.
Every word he said pinned fear in you, and made you shudder.
"Understand?" He finished and waited for your response, his eyes observing you.
You wanted to swallow the lump in your throat but fought against it, even as the single droplet of sweat rolled from your neck to your chest. You didn't touch it.
You didn't dare.
"Yes. I understand, Geto," you said with as much positive emotion as you could muster.
You even added a smile and a nod.
He smiled, fervently kissing your neck. "Good. Mrs. Suguru. Now," he lifted his head up, his tone returning to normal, and let go of your hand to reach inside the sleeve of his robe. "I have something for you; I think you might like it. It's been a minute."
You were confused but wary of what it could be. Your eyes watched and waited.
"Ah! Here it is," he proudly smiled and pulled out a box of strawberry Pocky sticks. "I know how much you loved these back in school. Strawberry being your favorite. You ate them quite a lot because you weren't allowed to smoke being two years younger, and your aunt Emiyo always bought you these. Everything from Japan, and this was it. Huh, I'm kind of jealous." He laughed and opened the box, and continued, taking one out. "Remember when he tricked you or better dared you to do the Pocky game?"
Your heart froze, knowing what he was getting at.
"You hadn't a clue, it was cute. You were so excited to learn it and without a second thought played it. So," he set one end of the Pocky in his mouth, his eyes playfully on you, "let's play again. I know we already did the ceremony one, but this one is different. Come on, let's play."
You nodded and leaned in, taking hold of the other end of the Pocky between your lips.
Your heart went wild.
"Ready? Don't break it," he warned and took the first bite.
You took one, a small bite.
He took another, then you.
With each bite, Geto slipped his arm over to you and wrapped it around your waist, gently pulling you closer.
Time either moved slowly or sped up; before you knew it, there was barely any more left and it was his turn.
Geto took the bite, a deep bite, and a deep kiss. Pulling you tightly against him, deepening it. You matched his intensity, thinking back to your mjomba's words.
"Oh, that Anansi spins the trickiest webs, so confusing and frustrating! But that's how he makes excellent stories."
Stupid Pocky Game.