II drown out the din II {Succa!Tsunami}
May 22, 2016 12:31:07 GMT -5
Post by Rosetta on May 22, 2016 12:31:07 GMT -5
It was unknown to Yucca how her favorite haunt with Silver became the side of a hill, in a shady spot under a tall willow tree. Yet, here they came no less than four times a week, to slip under the sinewy branches and find solace on cool grass, in one another’s arms. Here, they were free to talk about anything, free to hold one another and if Yucca was feeling particularly cheeky, she might lean over and kiss the soft skin of Silver’s collarbone which would lead from one thing to another.
There was a breathless freedom in sneaking up along the hill to see Silver though their parents granted them enough privacy already, seeing them as two close friends who enjoyed sleepovers, making meals together and working on the docks side-by-side. There, they had to play the part, keeping their hands to themselves except in sisterly embraces and their conversation light. However, on the hill, all of that was abandoned and today, as the sun made a graceful arc over them and began to set into the afternoon, and a gentle wind kissed their skin, Yucca held Silver’s head on her chest, stroking her hair.
“I could always go by Y. Ephedra,” Yucca suggested, keeping her eyes ahead, through the swaying branches and down the hill, transfixed on the rows and rows of houses and shops stretching out at the foot of the hill, and beyond them, a glistening sea. “No one has to know until we dropped off the papers.”
Marriage was a sore, yet stimulating topic between the two. They were still young and still lived with their parents, but Yucca knew, for her, she couldn’t leave her old bedroom, with the pink walls and mosquito netting, until she was married. Her parents hadn’t married until their late 20s, so it not yet a subject in her household, but Yucca’s age was a ticking time-bomb. Soon, they’d begin asking about boyfriends and white dresses and picking up the papers at the Justice Building.
When Yucca imagined it, however, moving out of her house and starting a new life, she knew Silver would be by her side. “We could be roommates,” Yucca mused, her voice drifting off, as her fingers lingered on Silver’s cheek. Their lunch lay forgotten besides them, two sandwiches, a jug of lemonade. They felt far less hungry holding one another, resting in the shade, laying cool, wet washcloths to each other’s sunburns. Soon, they’d have to get up, rub the grass and dirt off their clothing and begin the trek back to the docks where they both picked through tangled nets, untangling them or repairing them. The rhythmic practice had a sort of secret meaning between the two—they’d met under the docks where Yucca had been untangling a net and since then, they often shared furtive smiles, watching each other from across the docks, when their brothers or fathers slapped down a new pile of rope before them on the dock. Yucca still got chills when Silver would glide over and slip her nimble fingers around Yucca’s, whispering, “No, this way,” helping her.
As soon as those flocks of birds, pecking a few feet away, fly, Yucca told herself, lazily, then I’ll get up and we’ll go back. What was the loss of an extra hour’s meager wages? She squeezed Silver’s thin arm. As soon as they flap off, then we’ll go…
Suddenly, the flock moved and both Yucca and Silver jumped as feathers went flying and the flock sprang into the air, up and away, as if startled, screeching as they went. “What…” Yucca murmured, fingers still tangled in Silver’s air, but then she heard it too. A rumbling sound, like a train, growing louder and louder. Yucca sat up higher on her elbows, squinting ahead, mouth open wide in an O. The sparkling blue ocean, far ahead of them, down the hill and ahead of the rows of houses, was moving. The sound of splintering, of something snapping and breaking, penetrated the air and Yucca’s heart leapt into her throat, blood pounding in her ears. It took a moment, a second of watching and waiting, perfectly still, as the first row of houses disappeared, collapsing and folding in under a swirl of blue, green and white foam. Then, with the palpitation of her heart, it clicked.
“Silver,” she whispered, then shouted over the noise, of crashing, of rumbling, the sound of water slapping against a boat, the sound of waves whistling high and then crashing, “Silver! We have to go!” She leapt up onto trembling legs and roughly grabbed her girlfriend’s arm, dragging her to her feet. Her own feet didn’t seem to be working, pointed in different directions, unsure of where to go or where to run. The birds had taken to the sky. Yucca’s head snapped in that direction, squinting into the sun, into the clear blue sky, before her eyes stung and yellow burst in her pupils and she turned her head to see the peak of the hill beyond the willow. If they couldn’t fly, she realized, that’s where they had to go. “Come on,” she cried, sweaty hand holding tight to Silver’s arm, leaving marks.
Before they began to run, Yucca looked back. The wave—a tsunami, the word came to her—had crashed through the second row of houses and now that water had become more like a chunky soup, carrying splintered pieces of wood, boats chopped in half, collapsed roofs and smaller things, she could see…her stomach heaved, knowing what that could be. If the hill isn’t high enough…the sound of crashing rang in her ears and imprinted across her eyes was the image of that boat, tumbling through the waves, deck smashed in half, ragged wood of the two halves open like a mouth, like sharp teeth. They began to run.