Where the Sea Meets the Sky by Phoenix Lane

Where the Sea Meets the Sky by Phoenix Lane

Early in the morning, before anyone else wakes up, I like to go down to the beach at the bottom of the hill we lived on. If I listen close enough, the waves seemed to whisper things that sound like words, and the sand feels cool under my bare feet. One day not too long ago, Mommy had pointed to the part where the sea and the sky met, telling me that America was over there. “I'll come back from there soon, Amoy,” she said with a wide smile. “I'll bring us money for Grandma’s medicine and a big new house.” I didn't see her again after that. Since then, I've been waiting for her boat to return. As I stood there watching the water every day, I just knew Mommy was coming soon like she promised.

Before Mommy left, we lived in a small wooden house just outside the town of Seacrest. Mommy called the holes in the house “sun tunnels,” but I didn’t like how they made the roof leak when it rained. Grandma regularly dozed off in her rocking chair by the window. She coughed constantly, so much that she couldn’t sleep restfully at night. The doctor at the clinic told Mommy that she needed to get medication for Grandma urgently, but Mommy didn't have the money. She tried everything, including selling mangoes, braiding hair, and washing people's clothes, but it was never enough.

When they sat outside on the verandah at the end of the long days, I could hear her talking to Grandma. One evening, Mommy said in a low tone, “There's a man in Montego Bay. He said he can help me reach America on a boat. I could get a job and send home money.”

Grandma's voice was filled with fear. “Ann-Marie, boat ride is dangerous. Are you sure about that?”

Mommy 's voice wavered a bit. “Mama, I have no other option. I can't stand by and watch you get worse.” Most of the conversation was beyond my ten-year-old comprehension. But from what I understood, everything was better in America, where people had bigger houses, and clothes and shoes without holes.

The early morning that Mommy left, the sky was pinkish like the cotton candy at the circus that came into town every Christmas. She was wearing her favorite yellow scarf, which she swore made her feel brave. She said, “Be good for Grandma, my sunshine. Go to school, remember your manners, and make sure to always say your night prayers.”

“Can I come with you?” I asked timidly.

She kissed my cheek and said with tears in her eyes, “Not yet, my sunshine. When I can, I will send for you though.”

There were so many people at the pier, women with children, men carrying heavy bags, and several boats of all sizes. Everyone seemed excited but also anxious. Mommy gave me a hug and a smile for the last time as she turned to go into the boat that would change all of our lives.

The days seemed to go on forever afterwards. I kept asking Grandma, “When is Mommy coming home?”

Grandma's eyes were tired, but she would smile. “Come on now my sweet child. She needs time to find a job.” Sometimes I would hear Grandma praying when I woke up in the middle of the night. “Lord, please grant me peace or bring my daughter home.” She said it in a trembling voice.

I began to help her more with preparing dinner, cleaning, hanging out the wet clothes, and carrying water from the one community pipe at the far end of our district. Like Mommy used to do, I even walked to the market to sell fruits and vegetables from Grandma’s little garden in the backyard. Even then, I continued to visit the beach every morning, looking for Mommy.

Then one night a huge storm came. The sea sounded angry, and I could hear the wind whistling vengefully through the thin windows. Next day on the beach there was talk about some missing boats. When I got back home, Mommy's yellow scarf was in Grandma's lap as she sat on the edge of her bed. She was told by a fisherman that a small boat was lost in the storm while sailing north. No survivors had been found, just pieces of the boat floating in the ocean.

Grandma took a while to cry. She gazed at the wall as if she was trying to decide what or how much to say. When she called me over to her, I saw that her hands were shaking and I gave her a hug. I couldn't figure out why she was crying so much. All Grandma said that day was, “Your Mommy gone on a long journey, child.”

I now go to the beach every few days. Sometimes I bring flowers from Mommy’s potted plants. I like to throw them in the water and watch them float away. It comforts me to believe they would somehow reach Mommy by floating all the way to America. I told her things through the sea, like how I got a certificate for good behavior at school, how Grandma's cough sounded worse last week but she smiled when I made her soup, and how I helped patch the roof so it stopped leaking so much. I also told her to come home quickly. The sea never stopped listening.

One day I saw a piece of wood floating in the rocky part of the beach. It smelled strongly of sea water and had smooth edges. I used it to write “Mommy + Amoy + Grandma” inside the heart I drew in the wet sand. It was washed away by the next wave, but it didn't bother me. Grandma had told me that everything in the world is connected by the sea. I think that means when I speak to the sea, Mommy can hear me.

I had a dream about her that night. Wearing her yellow scarf, she hovered above the sea. She appeared happy as the sun set behind her. “Mommy!” I shouted. She opened her arms and smiled, but as soon as I ran to her, she just vanished. The sound of the rain on the tin-roof soothed me when I woke up crying. She seemed to be whispering even now. “I love you, my sunshine.”

The beach was quiet when I reached there this morning. The sea glistened like glass in the sun. I took my shoes off and went all the way into the water until it reached my knees. I whispered, “Mommy, please come back.” The wind was warm against my skin and I imagined her voice as I closed my eyes and lifted my arms to the sky. I know her boat is still out there in the sea and she is trying to come home.

I screamed out loud with tears streaming from my eyes, “I'll wait for you, Mommy.” The waves seem to be saying goodbye as they splashed around my legs and then retreated back towards its’ home. I stood there a long time, watching the place where the sea meets the sky. And for a moment, I thought I saw her, smiling, waving, walking towards me in the sunlight.

THE END