In the cold and bitterness of winter, I watched the void of the harbour and dug my head deeper into my knees.
Sand like ice, and the wind whistling in my ear and sweeping my hair into a mess. The moon was concealed behind the grey clouds that hung about me, so far out of reach.
I watched as the waves kissed the shore as if it ‘twas their love; and with each kiss they didn’t know if it was going to be their last. They didn’t know whether to be gentle or harsh, pulling away in fear of hurting them, never knowing that with each kiss they did so anyway. Nothing they did mattered the beach would erode eventually.
I was waiting for my mother. She said she’d visit tonight. It had been months since I last saw my mother. Watching the waves crash I reminisced on my childhood, what lead me here in the first place.
My mother looked a lot like me. We shared the same rich brown skin, coffee like eyes, and broad shoulders. She looked like a statue carved of marble and her dark blue hair swept over her shoulder in cascading curls. In every memory of her she had a crown of bright flowers. A Haku. My mother was a champion of Laka, she taught me about Hawaiian culture. We’d always go to back to Kahoʻolawe. The Kaʻaukai lived on the island for thousands of years. My mother insisted on that I was to be born on the island. My father named me Koa meaning strong. I found a sense of irony in the name.
My brother Kia and Dario; are my fathers favoured sons. Champions of Ares. The idol children for my father’s narrow sighted idles. They studied the art of war. We look nothing alike. They took after our father, Olive skin, lighter eyes, and stronger builds. My father put my brothers on pedestals as if they were gods; and I was a mere mortal. Small and insignificant. They are what I can never be.
Understand I do not hate my brothers. They did nothing to wrong me. They made me feel welcomed and loved. Kia made he his best man for his wedding; much to our fathers disapproval. Dario makes sure to send me letters every chance he gets. I try to reply; though I doubt he ever sees them.
My father made sure to busy them, with wars that do not concern them. Making sure they have no time for anything else.
My father says he only has two sons. As if I do not exist to him. They are Kia and Dario Agosti. I am Koa Kaʻaukai. I use my mother’s maiden name, and never correct him when I am blatantly ignored. My mother always made sure to bring me up. “Don’t forget Koa my dear. He is very kind, always caring for those around him.”
My mother taught me all I know. How to use a spear and, how to handle my magic as it is. I can hear her now. ‘When your feelings get too big, step aside and lash out where you can’t hurt anyone.’
I did that often in my teens. Stepping away; out of my father’s judging gaze.
Lani Agosti was not someone to fuss over politics and war. She cared for her Ohana. Her family, and those considered family. So I know it broke her heart when I left. I wasn’t forced to leave. I was turning angry and bitter, towards the constant belittling nature of my father, and feared for those I loved.
It brought me here. The city I found when I was younger. It was so far from my father, it felt like nothing could hurt me here.
I met him not far from here. Near the pier. He was all alone, and I felt intrigued. We talked for hours that night. He thought I was dead; so, I pulled him into the water. After that I went to boy when I needed to be away. He soon became my friend. However, my feelings of friendship grew into those of tenderness and admiration. I’d spent night thinking about him when I was home; daring to dream of a world where we could be together. So, in a plight of fire and tears I ran away to the boy, to his shelter. To his amity.
The hours droned on, and I decide my mother wasn’t coming. I got to my feet; and felt a tug of desolation as tears stung the back of my eyes. With one last look towards the sea, I turned on my heels and started for the pier.
“Koa!”
There, in the surf she was standing. She wasn’t wearing a Haku tonight, and her eyes, were dull. She ambled towards me; shifting to her human form; already bundled in warm winter clothing. “I’ve miss you, son.”
“Mum,” I cried burring my face into her hair. She smelt of sea salt and fresh sage-like she always had. She pushed me away and she smiled causing her eyes to crinkle, and tears to drip down her face. She cooed and pushed hair behind my ears and kissed my forehead.
“My boy, how you’ve grown,” she smiled, wiping tears from her eyes, and gripping me by my shoulders. “You look so strong.”
“I’ve got so much to tell you,” I admitted whipping my own dripping eyes.
My mother and I decided to walk down the docks; catching up. She explained how my father was busy planning war games and he wouldn’t notice her absent till morning. I wasn’t surprised father was often buried deep in his work.
I told my mother about my work, how I was hunting down monsters and criminals. How I’d made good friends here and about my time spent with Solanine Romano, and Virgil. I told her how their apartment was high above the city and made me feel so small and trivial looking at it as it endeavoured to touch the sky.
“I must meet this woman, and Virgil, he sounds lovely.”
“Yeah, he’s…” I falter. I didn’t want to call him my partner; in fear she believe us to be in a romantic relationship. Not that I would have minded her to believe so. I dared to image it. Just us; holding hands, and being together, where nothing was going to hurt him. I remembered our chance meeting and how much it felt like fate to me. I imagined his smile, and the ways his mint green eyes would crinkle. He often looked sickly, with his pale skin, high cheekbones, and gaunt face. His pale shaggy blonde hair: that was softer than it looked. How he wore his mothers wedding band on a chain around his neck. He wasn’t the most handsome man in the world. In fact, he was frail and lean, but it wasn’t his façade, that made me infatuated. It was his nature. The way he held himself, the way he spoke. Each word carefully chosen the way he’d lie in the sun on warm summer days; like a cat on a warm patch of concrete. “Great, he’s an amazing friend.”
“Wonderful, I’ll have to—”
Screaming. I looked around, towards the alley way where the scream had come. I readied my spear; and we approached the alley way slowly.
There were two people in the alley. One was slumped ageist the wall, and the other was holding a knife that was dripping in blood. They wore a black jean jacket that was tatted at the bottom, and it was covered in orange specs. They wore a mask, with a carved smile and fangs, it was dusty olive green and has red spirals on the cheeks. They had a tattered long grey shirt, and an under shirt that was back, and tight to their chest. From the holes in their mask, I could see their eyes glowing and acid green. Same colour as their hair. I whistled and got their attention away from the one on the ground as my mother rushed to their side.
“Let’s dance,” They said. Their voice was low and sightly nasally. They had a Russian accent and seemed to be entertained by my presence. They stepped closer to me, and I could see their Ashy complexation in my spears light. Over their heart they had sown the symbol for radioactive material onto their jacket. I could see on their left wrist was the number ‘187’ seemly branded onto them.
I took a deep breath, and they lunged at me, I stepped aside, and they nicked my arm with their blade. A paper cut. I hit them with the flat of my spearhead, knocking them to the floor. They groaned and stagger to their feet, going for my leg.
We fought; each cut small; they kicked my feet out from under me and I dropped my spear. I tried to get up; but failed. I felt heavy. Weak. The assailant readied their knife and straddled my hips, aiming for my heart. All I could do was close my eyes and wait.
I felt a weight lifted off my hips. I opened my eyes to see the assailant now back into a wall holding their seemly broken nose. Their mask now on the ground next to them, their eyes were filled with apprehension. In front of them stood the short statue of Pandora Delmaria. Her hair looked like the ocean tied in a braid that reached the middle of her back. Her fist was dripping with blood; and she was steaming. I could hear police sirens, and voices rushing towards us. The attacker grabbed a new knife and drove it into Pandora’s abdomen; she screamed, and they took off running grabbing their mask. Pandora took off after them. The Adrenaline keeping her from feeling much pain.
Police and paramedics flooded the alley, tending to me and the young man on the wall. I closed my eyes and slipped into unconsciousness.
When I awoke, I saw Pandora wrapping her fist as Bones tended to her wound. His emerald hair was in a messy bun and his warm tanned skin was splashed with freckles. They didn’t see to know I was awake. Pandora had only gotten off her rest a few days ago; and now she was injured again; although I had a suspicion she wouldn’t have stayed away again.
“Koa,” Bones said, turning his attention to me. “Good your awake.”
“Kaʻaukai, report,” Pandora sighed as she pulled her shirt back over the newly done stiches on her stomach.
“I was, meeting with my mother,” I told her. It was hard to say much else, everything felt like it was to the left and I wasn’t even there at all.
“Lovely woman. Only tried to kill me once.”
An awkward silence fell across the room, Pandora just smiled. I appreciated her effort to make us smile.
“You know the rest, I was attacked and got sent here. How’d you know where I was?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I didn’t push her. Pandora worked in enigmatic ways, her motives were often undetermined and shrouded in a cowardice fear. She stared at her fists. The gauzes were already blemished with crimson blood.
“Bones, do you have a report?”
“Yes,” He said swinging over to a microscope and test tubes. “There was Nightshade on the blade; along with two other ageists, I can’t quite figure out. Now the nightshade on its own is treatable but those unknowns are what worries me.”
“Chance of death?” She asked, her voice tense.
“Low.”
“Good, I’ll leave him in your care… I’ll be off now,” pandora said, getting to her feet and rushing out the door. Odd.
I looked to Bones in despondency and tried to speak, but no words found their way from my throat to my mouth. I wondered where my Mother was. Had she returned already? I looked to the window where the morning light pooled and the sound of birds filled the room. I was in the lost, and my mother had returned to Altowa. Homeland. I yearned to see Virgil and for him to tell me I would be just fine, and for him to sit by my side and stay with me. But I couldn’t ask it him. I would not be a spirit he saw wandering the veil and singing in his choir of the dammed. I felt tears roll down my face as my eyes closed and I couldn’t fight against the weight that makes it hard to breathe and the pressure in my head that was overwhelming my skull.
I saw Bones look at me with such pity that I felt fragmented and regretful. I was succumbing to the poison. I would not die, not straight away, but with every beat of my heart, I knew I would be one step closer to the doors of death and my eternal sleep. He would try to save me, but when I died, I would not hold it against him, for I knew he tried. I wanted to smile but I couldn’t I just slipped into the darkness that would consume my life as I inched closer to bereavement.
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