Salt in the Wind

Rodrigo Prieto raised the mast. People stared at the man in grave concern. He dropped down to the beach and began to push the boat into the sea. More people came down to the shore.

“Rodrigo, stop this madness!” Mama Estrella yelled as she made her way through the crowd.

The sail submitted to the strong winds. Rodrigo jumped on the boat, scraping his knees in the process. People from all corners of the island watched the second man who was insane enough to leave the island. Two thousand staring faces did not bother him.

‘We Prietos are explorers. Hardheaded and determined.’ Words of his Papa Antonio etched in his heart and mind.

Through the salty breeze, he could hear his mother’s shouts. “I’m sorry mama.” He whispered to himself. The winds carried the silent wish towards the shore.

In the boat, Rodrigo laid back basking in the sun. The winds pushed the sail, the island getting smaller and smaller. Tiny crevices let the sunshine peak through the lower deck. A month’s worth of food; fruits, vegetables, eggs, coconuts, and live chickens. A barrel of sand and a bag of clothes. And a chest filled with his father’s writings and drawings.

His heart raced out of his chest. This was the right thing to do, leaving was the right thing to do. 25 years stuck in the same place. Rodrigo refused to stay.

Mama Estrella, filled with a flurry of emotions, was not bothered by the waves below her feet nor the scorching heat looming above her head. She turned around. All eyes were on her, the Prieto pride enabled her to keep her head up high. Their house, a hundred meters away from the beach, the first ones erected when the great abuelito Manuel first set foot on the island of Ardiente.

The rocking chair in the front porch rocked back and forth. Steam from the coconut milk wafted through the outside of the house. Abellana, humming a folk tune, was stirring the pot of vegetable curry. A jar of salt beside her, she took a pinch and drizzled it over. She looked out the window. It was a peculiar day, there was no one outside.

On the other flame, the rice was beginning to boil. Her mouth salivated at the tasty lunch she has prepared. The sea breeze dried the sweat that made her shirt cling to her back.

“Your brother finally did it, that idiot finally did it!” Mama Estrella’s voice reverberated from the living room.

“I’m in the kitchen mama.”

“Rodrigo left. That stubborn brother of yours left with the boat.” Exasperation was evident in her voice.

“Mama, you know Rodrigo is old enough to make decisions for himself.” Abellana pacifying her mother’s rage.

“Do I need to remind you what happened to your papa when he left this island?”

“Ugh. No mama, you don’t need to remind me that he never came back.” Abellana, with glassy eyes, grabbed the plates from the cupboards and set them down on the dining table. “Now calm yourself down. Lunch is almost ready and I’m not letting you eat while you’re mad.”

The long dress worn by Mama Estrella danced with the wind. People have begun the trek from the beach to their homes. Those nosey bastards can’t help themselves whenever something is happening. She sat on the railing; she watched the rocking chair move; she could smell the coconut milk from the inside.

“This is all your fault.” Mama Estrella said to the rocking chair.

The rocking chair creaked as the wind pushed it. ‘Estrella, what’s wrong with a little adventure?’ words that Antonio would say to her resonated inside her mind.

“If you didn’t fill his head with those outlandish stories of yours, those drawings of yours, he would never have left. Now he may never come back.”

The chair rocked forwards and backward. ‘Do you not trust your son? He will come back. He just needs to find his way.’

“Fine. And if he doesn’t come back. I’m blaming this on you.”

Abellana began eating when Mama Estrella joined her. Familial silence loomed over them. The creaminess of the vegetable curry rested on their tongues. Mama Estrella noticed Abellana’s striking round amber eyes, another Prieto trademark, fluttering. She was having trouble swallowing the food.

Motherly instincts kicked in. And Mama Estrella stood up from her seat and made her way to Abellana. She placed an arm around her shoulder.

“Abellana, I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

“It’s okay, mama.”

“When your father left 7 years ago I –”

“I know mama. I know.” Abellana trying to cut the conversation.

They resumed their eating in silence. The bustling outside, people preparing their late lunch, chickens clucking about, the only sounds they hear in their quiet home. In their shared solitude, Mama Estrella and Abellana both understood that they were the only Prietos left on this island.

“Rodrigo is going to come back.” Abellana said.

“Let’s hope so.” Mama Estrella said with a hint of doubt.

When night came, the breeze cooled the village, torches illuminated the roads. The dim moonlight shined down on Ardiente. Villagers prepared their tables for dinner. Farmers came home. Mothers calling out in the dark to send their children back inside the house.

In the middle of the sea, Rodrigo ate bread while staring at the barrel of fire. The cold breeze sent a chill down his spine. The sea was calm. No storm brewing within his sight. Winds blew the sail northwest, the same direction his father took.

He laid down on his makeshift bed. Under the mercy of the night sky above and the deep sea below. Papa Antonio was never wrong. There was another island not too far from Ardiente.

After a few weeks, Rodrigo with little food left saw a mass of land materialized. Excitement surged through his bloodstream. Immediately, he grabbed the oar and proceeded to paddle towards it. The sun pricked his skin, but he didn’t mind. This was it. His father was here. 7 years, a boatload of questions, Rodrigo was finally about to see his father again.

As he waded through the waters, he noticed other fishing boats out in the sea. They noticed the foreign boat coming. Rodrigo waved his arms, attempting to signal to them that he was harmless.

The fishermen did not bother Rodrigo as he made his way ashore. Stepping down from his boat, an old man approached him. He surveyed the beach. It was the same as Ardiente; white sand, coconut trees, and people.

“Greetings.” The old man spoke. “What brings you here to the island of Arricefe?”

“I came here from the island Ardiente señor. My father left in search of another island 7 years ago. He never came back. This must be the island from his drawings.”

With a stern look, the old man held Rodrigo’s face inspecting it. Rodrigo’s amber eyes reflected the sunlight. A thought emerged from the mind of the old man.

“A man did arrive here 7 years ago.” The old man said. “His name is Antonio; I can take you to him if you like.”

“Yes please.” he said in anticipation. “My name is Rodrigo by the way.”

“I am Javier, the chief of the island.”

They made their way through the village. The dirt road paved the way to houses made of coconut lumber in-between the open spaces of the ferns and the tall trees. A whiff of feces hit their nose as they passed a piggery. Javier led Rodrigo to one of the houses. A woman came out of the house, wearing a red dress, she smiled at them.

“Señor Javier, good afternoon, what brings you here?”

“We have a guest, from the island of Ardiente, he would like to see Antonio.”

Rodrigo and Señor Javier stepped inside the house. In the living room by the rectangular window on the west side, a bench made of wood was there. The house was a quaint medium hut, with the kitchen behind those blue curtains. On the eastside, a small staircase led up to what appears to be a bedroom. It was identical to their house in Ardiente.

A painting of a family hanged on the wall in the sitting room. The little boy stood in the middle. On the right, a man with short black curls. And on the left a woman with ample breasts and long dark brown hair that went past her shoulders. Rodrigo took a closer look. Sweat began forming in his palms and on his forehead. Nervousness crept up his spine. The sea breeze did not decrease the heat building up in his body.

The little boy in the painting had healthy skin and chubby cheeks. He looked well-fed. Rodrigo’s nervousness gripped his spine as he saw the little boy’s eyes. Round amber eyes stared back at him. His eyes traveled back to the man, a stubbled face with the same amber eyes as the little boy.

“Hello.” A different voice said.

A man, average in height, as tall as Rodrigo, walked into the sitting room. He watched both Rodrigo and Señor Javier. His stare lingered on Rodrigo.

“Antonio, you have a guest from the island of Ardiente, his name is Rodrigo and he would like to see you.” Señor Javier said.

It was him. Tears welled up in Rodrigo’s eyes, threatening to give way. After all this time, two pairs of piercing amber eyes made contact with each other.

“Rodrigo.” Papa Antonio said.

A surge of elation overwhelmed Rodrigo’s self-control. He leaped towards Papa Antonio; his lithe arms wrapped around him. The force almost made Papa Antonio lose his balance. He hugged Rodrigo back. The father and son locked in a tight embrace, neither of them wanting to let go.

“Papa.” A child’s voice spoke from behind them.

In the same quick manner as the embrace, Rodrigo turned around. He looked between Papa Antonio, the child, and the painting. The realization brought a giant weight to his chest. His stomach churned. Sweat poured down from his forehead, he went straight to the wooden bench to catch his breath.

With short legs, the child ran towards Papa Antonio, and with his strong arms, he lifted the child. He tickled the little boy, causing him to burst into laughter. In his arms, he twirled around and played with him.

Rodrigo’s heart began to fill with despair and contempt. His high hopes have fallen, hitting the ground face first. The blood underneath his veins turned into lava. A look of defeat and betrayal carved on his face. All he had left was the Prieto pride tying him together in a sullen knot. It ensured that he doesn’t erupt into a fit of heaving emotions.

Papa Antonio placed the little boy down. “Why don’t you go and play outside again. I have to talk to Señor Javier.” With that, the child rushed outside.

“Rodrigo I’m so sorry,” Papa Antonio said as he sat down beside him, “I know you have many questions. I’ll try my best to answer them all.”

“I think I should go.”

Before Señor Javier and Papa Antonio could react, Rodrigo walked out the door. The two of them caught up with Rodrigo. Papa Antonio pleaded to him. But his ears could not hear any word that came out of their mouths.

“I’m going to need some supplies before I go.” Rodrigo stated to them as he paused his march on the beach. “If you don’t mind.”

“Rodrigo please, you came all the way here.” Papa Antonio still attempting to explain.

“I have all my answers.” Rodrigo declared. “Señor Javier, thank you for your time, but I really must go, my mother and sister are waiting for me back home.”

“How is Estrella and Abellana?” Papa Antonio asked.

“Fine.” Rodrigo replied. “Señor, do you have any food I can bring for my trip?”

“Yes yes, let me just prepare it. It saddens me that you are leaving so soon.”

Rodrigo Prieto raised the mast of the boat. Papa Antonio can only look in concern as his son prepared for his departure. Señor Javier came back with a stash of fruits, coconuts, vegetables, and 2 cages of chickens.

Without another word, Rodrigo pushed the boat into the waiting arms of the sea. He did not bother to look back. The sail submitted to the salty winds, pushing the boat further out.

“I’m coming home mama.” He whispered to himself. The silent wish clung to the salt in the wind.