"The Water´s Edge" by Lindsay ´Morgan´ Lockhart

Salanwi brushed her way through the deep green of the patterned bushes. The ground was soft beneath the feet she had made bare at the top of the hill. Stitched sandals were now hanging from her side. The steam curling off the ground in the early morning rose around her, giving the earth a natural shroud. She came to a stop at the base of the hill, near the small falls of water that pooled in a way she loved so well.

Well-worn stones dotted the water that surrounded her, forming small pathways that divided up the water into sections. She lowered herself down on the aged and smooth stone- mottled from springs of green moss that had taken rest on the deep gray surface. She pulled up her thin legs onto it and held them against her, listening to the small gurgles of the stream and watching the strobing shimmers of light that the small rolls sprayed onto the green leaves, creating streams along their surfaces.

In the depth of the cool blue water, tiny fish danced between the rocks. She watched their movements as she stared down into the pond. The thick canopy above her head caused her reflection to be a mere shadow of her shape. She raised a shadowed hand, watching it touch darkness and not her eyes. She cocked her head at a slightly different angle and moved into a bright patch where her full features greeted her. She watched as a smile spread out on her face and grinned bashfully at her own delight. Suddenly, another face appeared across the pond. He was a small boy with a face like the shell of an egg. His hair was yellow like the sun in the sky, and his eyes were milky blue like the water they both stared into. She touched her own brown skin, rich like the color of the earth, and her deep green hair, which sprang up like the plants from the earth. Despite their differences, they looked similar. He couldn’t have been much older than she- perhaps 9 or 10 cycles.

Staring at him with curious black eyes, she said, "Hello." The boy responded in sounds she couldn’t understand, though she had seen strange men from strange lands speaking similarly as they passed through her village. Some called them demons or mad spirits, Salanwi couldn’t see anything evil in the blue eyes that looked at her with as much curiosity tinged with fright as her own must have betrayed to him.

"I don’t understand," she said. "But then you don’t either." The boy said something and looked down at the ground. She nodded to him, curling in her lips.

"Salanwi," she said, touching herself, then she repeated it again, tapping repeatedly.

The boy seemed to understand. "George," he said, tapping himself.

"Salanwi," she said, pointing to herself, then she pointed at him. "Geawge."

He smiled excitedly- blond locks bouncing as he nodded. He pointed at her and said, "Salahnwee." It was close enough. She certainly hadn’t repeated his name exactly the way he had made the sounds. They were far too loopy, squirming on her tongue, but it was close enough. They smiled at each other gently, giggling.

Salanwi gestured at the water, and he nodded vigorously. The sun beat down, hot, against their necks, and the water offered cool respite. Standing nervously, they stood at the edges of the water with their hands clasped behind their back. It seemed so simple before, when she had merely thought while the pond still divided them, but now that it was time to take the step in, Salanwi found herself hesitating. "He’s just like me," she reminded herself. Was he? She had doubts. "What if the water," she thought. "Is the way he transforms back to his true form and then he eats me!" She narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to try it. Then she saw the uncertainty in his eyes, and she felt shamed.

She lowered herself back down onto the stone, then slipped her legs in one at time, feeling the cool water envelop them. Jumping down, her feet buried into the mud on the bottom of the pond, and she wiggled her toes in the mud. She grinned to herself as small fish darted past her feet- fins brushing her skin. Turning up her black eyes, she watched to see if the boy would come in.

He was already rolling up pant legs and lifting the tops like a skirt. She grinned as he jumped in, soaking the pants he had trivially taken the time to pull up. In the process, water splashed all over her, and she immediately plotted revenge. The boy’s golden hair was matted against his head in a moment as she doused him. He retaliated, giving her a second skin of her fine green hair. Their giggling filled the air with a gay music, which attracted an older, pale woman, who quickly ran to the water’s edge and shouted at the boy. The woman was immaculate. The clothing she wore looked like all the treasures of Salanwi’s village melted together and shaped into a piece of clothing.

Salanwi bit her lip as the boy stilled and looked down at the water in shame. He began to back out of the water, returning to the woman’s side. She watched him go with sad eyes, shrinking from the steely hate she could see in the woman’s eyes, as though she had done something to her son. As he was lead away to the trees, the boy looked back and pulled his hand from his mother’s defiantly. Then, he moved his hand through the air toward Salanwi in a gesture that had his mother yank him beside her quickly. Salanwi smiled sadly and whispered, "Good-bye." The word whipped through the wind, traveling out through the divided trees, and into the entirety of the sun.