Windfall Island

[Caira Ayryn]

Ring, ring! the bells on the shop door rattled with its open and close. Thomas strolled out with a small bag of goodies and a fresh apple in his hand. His teeth were still great, for an old man, and shone pearly white against his sun-stained skin. Charlotte was waiting outside the shop with her hands in her pockets, and with an impatient pout pronounced on her lip. Thomas took a great big bite out of his favorite fruit and savored the freshness as the juice cleansed his lips.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, his jaws smacked and Charlotte stared at the apple, curious, as she had never set sail on the ocean sea long enough know the meaning of true starvation, nor pure gratitude.

He finished his bite and winked at her and they started to walk at his subtle command, "So, you wanted a story?"

Charlie crossed her arms but looked up at him with a quizzical expression. She blinked, then again, and finally nodded. Thomas reciprocated, "Aye, alright, but first, your mother said you haven't been doing your homework. And asked me to talk some sense into ya, says you'll listen to me fer some reason."

CHOMP!

Another bite of apple squirted from his lips as Charlie grumbled her protest, "I knew she'd say something about that when you went in. Homework has absolutely nothing to do with sailing. Nothing to do with anything beyond this island. I don't belong here, all I want to do is leave! And the adults don't listen. They just look down on me and tell me I don't understand, that they know what's best for me, but they can't tell me what's best for me when they don't know what's in my dreams!" She bent down to scoop some sand from the ground, "There's an entire world out there! I have to go get it before it falls like sand through my hands!" Her small fingers sifted through the fine sand and poured onto the ground. "I thought for sure you'd understand Thomas, but I guess I was wrong, you're just like them!"

Before she could run off, he coughed, "Am I? I didn't hear myself say that I agree with them."

She froze, heels skidded to a stop, and she turned around with the wide, bright, protuberant eyes only a child could have. She held in her gasp and narrowed her eyes, "Really?"

"Sure. You could run off right now, today, this very second and become a pirate, no responsibilities to anyone but yourself. You just have to be sure that's what you truly want. And you better be sure what you're leaving behind is worth it," Thomas paused to look into town, it was quaint, quiet, nicely idealistic.

"Freedom will always be worth it," she said with intense conviction.

"Well, you're right," he nodded, and offered her a wise smile, "But you're still a little girl, you'd be leaving behind a home some orphans dream about, leaving your mother all alone, she'd worry herself into the grave everyday, thinking you'd gotten yourself arrested, gone to prison, were hung, or worse."

"Worse?" She said in excited awe.

"Worse. That you'd never die, but remain trapped forever in some eternal prison where there are sea slugs to eat away every corner of your skin, while you're still alive, starving enough to believe, to wish that that reality isn't real. Yet, you can't wake up, you can barely breathe. Then, you'll remember the home you had, food on the table, a family and community who love you and know your name, who will be there for you when you break bones, who will check your temperature when you're sick or look under your bed when you think you hear a noise." He spoke with truth's almighty conviction, and his eyes glittered as though he had seen it all before, everything he had mentioned and more, and concluded, "Much worse."

Charlotte frowned, "You're just trying to scare me. That's not very nice Thomas, and you're not going to trick me that easily."

"Is it a trick Charlotte? Out there on the open seas, wouldn't you rather know how to get the slugs to never get a lick of you, or to know how to pick the lock to your prison cell than to run right into it and be trapped? That's true freedom. When you can choose how to dig yourself out of the mess you've made for yourself. When you have the knowledge that grants you the ability to free yourself. I'm not saying you shouldn't follow your dreams. I highly promote them, but dear, you must prepare for the times when you are scared and alone, for you never have been, even when you feel like an outsider. Knowing, is true freedom. And that takes years of work. So you know what you should do? You should study now, do your schoolwork because your mom will be sad when you're ready to leave and you go, without looking back. She knows you'll leave someday, so she holds on even tighter. But she'll be ready to let you go when she knows you're prepared. When she knows you've both done all you can, Charlotte, wouldn't you rather remember, on your adventurous deathbed, your mother smiling, rather than scolding you? Wouldn't you die a little happier knowing you followed your dreams, without breaking her heart?"

Charlotte had stopped and was staring up curiously at him, "Did this happen to you, Thomas? Does this count as my story?"

"The truth is what you make of it, do you think that I ran away from home, only to return and have seen my parents slaughtered by the same pirates I had joined?"

Charlie's jaw dropped, "What?!" Her eyes scrolled around the scene and imagined it covered in the blood of everyone who had ever shown her kindness. "No way..."

Thomas raised his eyebrows, not confirming nor denying this story, "Charlotte, don't let that be your truth. Not when maybe you could stop it with a few cannons perched on the top ridge, and a few on the shoreline."

Her eyes glittered now, "We have to reinforce our defenses so they'll be ready when I grow up and leave, that way I don't have to worry about them! Can you teach me Thomas? I want to learn everything so that way, I can be prepared when I set sail. That way," excitement leaked into her voice, "I can continue having adventures rather than die being eaten by slugs on my first mission or watching my mom die!"

Charlotte ran off to the top of the hill and Thomas followed as fast as his middle-aged body would let him.