The ocean breeze whips my unmanageable hair in various directions, blocking my view of the light blue sky in the horizon.
Where we're going, will my hair suddenly be tame? Will I die of such changes?
Running barefoot on my island and growing with the grass, the trees, the meadow, it's been my whole life. Why must I leave it?
Marriage, honor, tradition, it is the way of our people.
These are words my father has repeated thousands of times, yet I cannot bear to hear them once more. For I fear that if I do, I will run into the embrace of the sea and let it overcome me, for then I will be truly at home forever.
My hand drops to my lap. I didn't even realize I had been holding my hand out reaching toward the sea. Examining my tanned arm, I wonder if it will become pale where I am to go. The journey will be three days by boat, and two days by horse and carriage. How far I will be from this spot by the sea.
"Sefina!" The voice of my mother carries across our little island.
With a deep breath, I rise and blink away tears for my own sorrows.
Begrudgingly, I force my body to our small home.
As I descend the small hill, I eye our little village of huts. What a man of such wealth would want with a daughter of the islands, I cannot fathom. Our worlds must be so different. While he was polite and handsome when we met, I cannot imagine our worlds coming together smoothly.
He winced, winced, at our modest homes. The memory causes my stomach to churn.
Pushing through the cloth door, I find mother and join her in preparing our meal.
"I know you're nervous, but the man has promised to bless our people with things we will need, and he has promised to bring you back for visits. It truly is a privilege that such a man found interest in you, Sefina."
Her words cause my hands to shake and my lip to quiver, but I simply allow my hair to fall over my shoulder to block any sign of dismay. Nodding my head, I reply, "Makuahine(mother), I... I will miss you."
My suitor arrives later that evening, appearing nervous, but pleased. I am courteous and dutiful, but I cannot help but feel loss eating away at my heart.
That evening, as the sun sets, we are before my entire village on the beach, wrapped in the Tifaifai (a traditional handcrafted blanket or quilt), and pronounced man and wife. The kiss he plants on my lips is awkward, but gentle. I remind myself that he is a gracious and kind man.
Though fairly pale compared to my people, he has eyes that are pale like the sea behind us, and hair a darker color than my own.
The rest of the evening is spent celebrating, and in the morning, we leave for his homeland.
After the stars have risen, I escape from my mother and father's teary and hopeful gazes. I go to my spot on the hill and lean against the palm tree closest to the edge and let out a hefty sigh.
Sounds of the forest carries up to me, as well as the tranquilizing sound of the waves crashing onto the shore. The shore that betrayed me tonight in holding a wedding ceremony, and betray me tomorrow by sending me off.
A heavy feeling builds in my chest, a load of sorrow begging to be released into the warm night air.
"Forgive me," A voice calls to my right.
My sorrow vanishes, replaced by a heat creeping up my neck. The voice is that of Enele, my husband.
"You have done nothing wrong," I state, hoping my racing heart cannot be heard in the near silence of the hill.
Voices of laughter and rejoicing carry out to us but quickly dissipate.
"When I heard you coming, I wasn't sure if I should say something or try to sneak away," he says.
I can't help but laugh at his admission.
"I know you didn't want to marry me... but I needed to find a wife, before my horrid brother took over."
My expression falls quickly. I'm grateful for the cover of night to hide my pitiful and surely sour appearance.
As if reciting from a book of tradition, he says, "One cannot rule the people without a stable wife at his side. Though my brother is three years younger, I fear he would find a wife solely to take my place as king. I fear the power would get to him..."
The wind gliding through the branches of the palm tree above me is the only sound between us for a moment.
"I have only known this island, my people, my entire life." This is all I can say, without losing control of my emotions. How can I leave the island that has helped grow and nurture me and my people? A place of serenity and awe?
I hear light footsteps heading toward me. He towers over me, and gently reaches for my hands. Holding them softly, he says, "The world is a large place. I chose you as my wife because I feel you will understand and appreciate its vastness."
I doubt the merit of his words, but willingly walk toward the village with him, hand in hand.
In the morning, I rise with a rosy blush to my cheeks, one that my parents must surely notice, but do not mention.
As Enele's men load the ship with our various items and wedding gifts, I embrace my mother and father tightly, wishing that this was all a horrid nightmare. But it's not. I will be leaving the island for good. The only daughter of the Chief.
As the ship pulls away from the shore, I wave to my people until my arm can no longer hold itself up and my people are specs on the sand.
Enele comes to me and gently pulls me to the front of the ship. "The ocean... it's so expansive!" I cry, a feeling of wonder settling into my chest.
He smiles and leans against the railing. "There's so much more to see, Sefina. This is only the beginning."
While I wish to run back to peer at the spec of land that was my whole world, I'm captivated by the sight before me. Ocean, other islands and sea creatures diving in and out of the waters below.
I refuse to leave the deck of the ship, for fear of missing a brilliant sight. Enele is understanding and happily has dinner served under the stars for us both.
"Tell me, about where we are going," I say, unable to hide my smile.
"It's far different from your island, but there's so much to enjoy. The men wear formal clothes, and the women wear long, beautiful gowns, and there's music and dancing. I do hope my home will be pleasing to you."
I consider all he has said. Besides the long dresses and fancy clothing, I figure it must not be so different after all. "That all sounds, lovely," I say, using a word I have heard several fancy women say.
My fear and dread begin to subside, replaced with feelings of excitement and hope for a future I had never dreamed of.
Though I know the feeling of loss will always be there, I begin to imagine what my life will be like, as a queen in a foreign land.
"Can you see the ocean from your home?"
In the starlight, I see his smile grow. "It's a view you'll never get over. Even now, I miss it and it calls to me."
I doubt it will compete with the view from my perch on my island, but I remain hopeful that it will not disappoint. I have already been impressed by the astonishing things I would have never seen, if I had never left my island.
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