“Lanna, I’m hungry,” my little brother Corzo whined.
“We’ll be there soon,” I snapped, a little too harshly. Grabbing on to the side of the boat as it hit a particularly large wave, I told him in a slightly softer tone, “Go see if Iza has any bread left over.”
His face brightened. “Okay!”
My eyes followed him as he wove through the thin crowd of people toward my older sister. The journey had been long for all of us, and signs of restlessness were showing. Fidgeting, slight hopping, quick dances. They should make boats faster. Four days from one island to another is a little crazy.
I turned to where my mother was speaking with one of her childhood friends, who had just so happened to be on the same boat. After our father had disappeared, and all hope had been lost, she’d decided to uproot us from our lives on Blossomcrest Island and move us to her old home, Galesweep Island. Of course Corzo and I had tried to talk her out of it; we most certainly didn’t want to leave our home behind. But, as usual, she didn’t listen, and Iza, being the perfect child she is, supported her.
And now here we are, in the middle of the ocean, wanting more than anything to be on land again. Even I, with a rather strong stomach, was starting to get sea sick. And let’s just say that wasn’t the prettiest sight.
“I see it! I see the island!” a little girl shrieked from the prow of the boat.
At the word ‘island,’ the entire ship began crowding the front, desperate for a glimpse of the one thing they needed more than ever. I stepped away, not wanting to be a part of all the pushing and shoving.
“Look, Iza!” I heard Corzo squeal. “There’s a mountain!”
“Indeed. Are we going to climb it?”
“Let’s do it tomorrow!”
“How about next week?”
“Fiiiinne, I guess….”
I couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of how much Corzo liked Iza. What had Iza ever done other than baby talk to him? I was the one who gave him piggybacks after school. I was the one who helped him do his homework. I was the one who played with him, even when everyone else wasn’t busy. Iza came up with excuses when she really wasn’t doing anything.
The boat hit the dock, jolting me out of my thoughts. I had grabbed my bags out of the cabin ages ago, along with Corzo’s, so we were the first family onto the island. My steps became shaky at the sudden steadiness of solid ground, and I gratefully sank onto a boulder.
“Lanna! Let’s go! Our house isn’t far from the beach,” my mother scolded, ushering me down the worn dirt path.
For the first time, I was able to get a glimpse of the village. Worn boards nailed into a circular shape, with long dried grass tied up for a roof made up the houses all placed in an untidy cluster. Dirty windows hung open, some displaying pies and loaves of bread. Children weaved in and out of the huts, some brandishing sticks or palm leaves. Adults could be seen hanging the wash, carrying baskets of fruit, mending the flimsy roofs, or attempting to catch a fish.
Back on Blossomcrest, houses were sturdy, made of clay bricks, neat, and plentiful. Fish and fruit could be found at the market. And everything was much, much cleaner. For a moment I wondered if we had come to the wrong island. Why would Mother want to bring us here, when we had perfect lives back home?
But to my great dismay, she was waving and smiling and hugging the other women, meeting children and introducing us. Iza started small conversations, and Corzo showed everyone his double jointed thumbs. I just stepped back, crossed my arms, and scowled.
A girl rushed past me, and I realized that she was the only person who looked about my age. She ran out to the beach, waving to another girl standing beside a sailboat. My gaze drifted out to the sparkling ocean, and I realized there were hundreds of boats floating through the waves, most of which were carrying kids.
We had a boat back on Blossomcrest. It was painted sky blue with a bird embroidered on the sail, and it was called the East Star. We never went sailing much, and I was most certainly not taught how to sail. My Aunt Rosa said it was ‘unladylike.’ To be honest, though, I was very tired of having to be ladylike.
My mother saw where I was looking, and a small smile spread across her face. “Most of the islanders here get their own boat by the age of twelve. You’ll be a little behind, but the school has some pretty good sailing teachers, and you tend to catch on pretty quickly to these kinds of things.”
“They teach sailing at school?” My eyebrows shot upward.
“They teach a lot of things here. It’s a very different economy.”
“Is there still math?” I asked hopefully.
Mother scrunched her eyebrows as if trying to remember. “Not as much, but yes. It isn’t as important here as it was on Blossomcrest.”
Not important? How could math not be important? It was part of our everyday lives back home, just as much as the wind and the sea. We were shown that it was everywhere. Had our instructor been wrong? Was Galesweep so desolate and filthy that even math chose to stay away?
Finally, we reached the dirtiest and saddest looking hut of them all. Don’t let this be our house…don’t let this be our house… I silently pleaded. I nearly fainted when Mother opened the door and declared, “Home sweet home!”
My nose immediately shriveled at the dank smell that wafted through the air. Clearly, no one had been inside the house in years. Cobwebs were strung across the walls, very little light emitted from the windows, floorboards creaked, and dust coated everything. The only furnishings were a hearth covered in soot, a counter surrounded by empty shelves and cabinets, a table with chairs that looked like they’d collapse at the slightest touch, a doormat that was more holes than mat, and a ladder that led up to another floor.
A low groan escaped from my mouth, and I covered my eyes and sank to the floor. Even Iza’s never ending smile faltered for a moment. Mother, being as crazy as she was, set her bags on the ground and beamed, her head turning slowly from left to right as she surveyed the room.
“It’s just how I remember it!” she sighed happily. “I mean, it needs a little work, but…”
“A little?!” I cried, throwing my hands into the air. “I’d rather sleep outside!”
“Better hope the grass is comfy, then!” she replied in her cheerful tone.
I rolled my eyes, picked up my bags, and headed for the door. I had to get back to Blossomcrest.