A Collection of Stories

PERFECT ISLAND

Galbo had lived a good life; he told himself this every day. He rose before the first kiss of dawn to greet the newborn day with a solemn prayer, one his father taught him when he was little, followed by his mother's poem and brother Jarai's favorite quote:

'The day grows the way you start it; if you are wise, you will start it well.'

Then he'd take in a deep breath, return to the hut and plant a kiss on the head of each of his seven children, beginning with the youngest. Then he'd watch his sleeping wife for a moment before she'd flutter her eyes and acknowledging him at her bedside, smile sleepily and say,

"Mie mu ren di sol. Horja." (We're fine. Go.)

He'd smile and nod before kissing her temple and watch her snuggle once more into the sheet before sleep steals her away again.

Outside, a dull yet warm pinkish glow tickled the horizon with a tentative gaze. From where he stood, Galbo had a view of the entire island; he'd constructed his handsome hut on the island's summit for the sole purpose of seeing everything and what a beauty he beheld every sunrise!-he wouldn't trade what he had for the world.

He spread his arms above his head, casting his gaze towards the heavens and after a prayer of thanksgiving; he set off into the wildness of the land below...

Mosquitoes buzzed about noisily while the remains of the nighttime dew ran impatiently from the upper leaves of the wild trees and vines to their lower neighbors, leaving a glistening trail of wetness behind. A big red and black spider rested quietly in his webbed walls of white and the frogs, with their shiny wet backs, barked into the morning stillness with abandon. Bees were early at work on the brilliant flowers that were brave enough to grace the day with their bold colors and delicate scents. The banana plants, splaying their petaled lips, revealed their precious fruit with pride and here too the energetic bees hovered, unwilling to neglect these wonderful succulents. Brilliant greens of every hue glorified the jungle of his island and the raw smell of the fertile soil permeated his nostrils, bringing a peaceful energy within his soul.

Galbo smiled. Here on his island, everything was perfect.

On the beach, the tide lapped lazily on the shore as though not yet aware that dawn had come and the day was sure to be as pleasant and exciting as it was the previous day, but Galbo, with one look at the horizon, felt some foreboding in his spirit. The calm and peace had left him and he stared out over the quiet sea, trying to discern what was amiss.

"You can feel it, can't you?" asked an old man who appeared at his side.

"I can feel something is about to happen," he answered nonchalantly. "Something's coming."

"Yes," responded the old man with a wise nod. "Look out there," pointing a leathery finger. "By this time tomorrow, a great ship will appear on the horizon and within you will find many things."

Galbo glanced at the man beside him and he, feeling his look, turned to face him. "You have a question."

"Yes. What will this ship bring? Will it upset the peace of the island?"

To this, the man smiled, shook his head, then shrugged.

"All in due time, Galbo. All in due time," then placing a hand across his chest. "Meh meh ve dari, musav." (Until tomorrow, my son).

Galbo returned the gesture. "Lim dara, musam." (Likewise, my father). And he returned with a light step to the house with a busy mind not in the least disturbed that the old man had disappeared, leaving no footprints on the soft pink sand.

He did not tell his wife what had happened on the beach, but Naryua was a sharp woman. She knew something troubled him, but she'd never been the prying kind-it was against her nature-and so she waited with a patience becoming in a wife until he was ready to dispel his cares on her.

When Galbo and the two eldest boys went to see if the traps had caught any fish, she bade her young ones 'to not trouble father today because he's thinking.' And after repeating this all throughout their lessons, they grasped what she expected of them, and kept among themselves when he returned, greeting him with a kiss before running off to play a game of 'warrior'. But as the day drew to an end, and the dinner eaten and the tea served, Naryua watched her husband with pleading eyes. When the youngest children fell asleep and the three eldest told stories beneath the hut, she ventured to inquire of his troubles. He took her hand and smiled.