The Secret of Angel Island by Alisha Paige
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. The Secret of Angel Island COPYRIGHT © 2008 by Alisha Paige All rights reserved. This is an “unedited” as is title. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Contact Information:
[email protected] Cover Art by The Wild Rose Press The Wild Rose Press PO Box 706 Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706 Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com Publishing History First Faery Rose Edition, 2008 Free Read Published in the United States of America
With shaking, leathery hands, Helki strung rows of glistening abalone onto hemp twine as the salty winds blowing across Angel Island tossed her gauzy dove-soft hair about her delicate face. How many moons had waxed and waned through time, hanging above in the indigo bowl that dipped into the white crested waves of the Miwok world? Her face creased when she smiled sideways, slanting her face into the warming star. She handed another shell to her granddaughter, Malila. “You watch the sea too often, Mother Helki,” Malila said, taking the shell. “You will do well to pay tribute to its depths, granddaughter. Life blossoms from it. Everything the Miwok values comes from the tides. Its ebb and flow brings forth all we know and all we need. And when we slip into the next world, the sea is our destination.” “Your leaving is much on the lips of the tribe. And so I hate to see you yearn for the sea. We are not ready for your departure.” Helki turned to Malila, curling the hemp twine into her fist and brushing her granddaughter’s face with her knobby knuckles. “Quiet, child. My time is near. It will be a great time of celebration for all the Miwok.” A single tear fell from Malila’s lashes. She brushed it off her chin and sniffed. “But I will miss you the most.” “And I you, my brave girl. I must depart so others can live on Angel Island. My departure is only a journey. We shall meet again in another life and
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forever on. We will always be connected.” “Will he come for you?” Helki nodded. “He has prepared our home.” “How do you know this? I’m worried you will be lonely.” The old woman chuckled out loud, her eyes sparkling like glistening raisins. “I will be far from lonesome. Do not trouble yourself. I’m anxious for our meeting. I’ve waited far too long. You will one day understand my heart and see it with your own eyes.” “What is it like then? How can you know?” “Angel Island holds many secrets.” “I wish you a good and happy voyage.” “Happy. Yes. More than our Miwok hearts can understand. For when we travel onward, we are renewed. Given new life, new understanding. We will be borne from the froth and one with the sea. I can taste the salt now. My dry mouth waters for it, yearns for it. My soul calls out to be drenched in its solitude, its depth of creation. From its cool sandy bottoms to the deepest, darkest caves within its twirling waters. My bones ache for the ripples of sunlight to splay through my hair and seep into my worn skin, making it new again.” “So you are not sad?” “No. Are we sad when a new babe is born to the Miwok?” Malila shook her head as she threaded an aqua abalone shell through the twine. “We rejoice.” “It is no different, my child.” “But we will miss you so. That is the difference.” “Do not dwell on the gap between this world and the next. We will always be together. Death is not death. You must see this.” Malila sighed and looked out to sea. Searching. “You are my joy. Always I have cherished you, my little Malila.” 2
The Secret of Angel Island Another tear dripped from her sparkling lashes, sinking into the sand beneath them. “And I you, Mother Helki.” “It is our very closeness that brings my departure.” “How so?” “You are to wed soon. A great warrior will take you as his bride. He will become chief of the Miwok’s. His reign will bring strength and vitality to our people.” Malila stared at Helki. “My love will cause your death?” “No, child. But it is time for new leadership and I am part of the old. I can give you a glimpse if you like?” “A glimpse?” Helki nodded as she dropped her shells and twine and took both of Malila’s hands in hers. “I trust you will use this knowledge wisely.” “Oh yes.” “Walk with me, then.” They rose together and walked into the tide. Lacy foam remained on their feet when the tide swept back into the sea. And then it tumbled back toward them, moistening the white sands, slapping against their brown ankles, spraying their thighs with salty water. They giggled like Miwok children playing on the beach. “Close your eyes, child.” Malila held tightly to Helki’s hand as a warm wave splashed across their breasts. “What is it you most desire to know of your future? Say it in your mind. The sea will show you.” The passion of my love. Malila felt a sickness wash over her, churning her stomach, stealing her breath. Stumbling, stumbling into the ocean as wave after wave leapt up. Higher and higher, spraying her chest, her face. 3
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“Mother Helki!” She cried out, but her words were lost to the crash of the sea. And then, her feet were swept out from under her and kicking the velvet sand as she felt the ocean floor drop into cold, open water. She reached for her grandmother, swished her head around, peering through millions of hissing bubbles, and saw only her wrinkled feet standing on an ocean shelf far above her head, toes wiggling over the edge. Panic swallowed her whole when she fell deeper, deeper into a black abyss of twirling, swirling water. She screamed. A giant bubble emerged from the effort but no sound. The silence ached, dripping with dread. This was a nightmare like no other. She knew now that the talk with Mother Helki was only the prelude to a horrific dream. For if she were awake, surely she would have drowned by now yet she did not fight for breath. Breath. She inhaled. Falling, falling, down into the deep. The deafening, lonely silence was interrupted with light and sounds wide and hollow, teeming with enchantment she’d never known. Just when the numbness crept up her limbs and soared through her veins, the deep black of the moaning sea faded into darkest blue, then aqua and then crystalline waters swirling in blades of brilliant golden light. Life leapt from every crevice, every rock, from behind every flowing anemone. Swift movement startled her, and she turned to run, but couldn’t. Lemon colored bubbles twirled around her face. She pushed the swimming black ribbons of her own hair away from her face in slow motion, struggling against the heavy water. Here beneath Angel Island, within the depths of the sea were her own people, frolicking, rolling, playing as if they were sea lions. She never knew the Miwok were truly borne of the sea. She felt a pulsing on her side. She fought to peer through the waters, 4
The Secret of Angel Island through the crystal sharp lights blazing, almost blinding her as it sparkled off every drop. A silent yelp escaped her lips, but an air bubble carried it away. She smoothed her sides again with both hands, felt for her ribs where the lightness, the airiness propelled her forward and she was sure. Gills. Right where her ribs should be. She studied the Miwok closer. The ocean was full of eligible men of the tribe and adolescent girls on the verge of womanhood. No elders. No children. Only those in their prime, twirling, kissing in the light that came from below. A brilliant shell lay nestled on the ocean floor, cracked open. Alive. She could see the orangy flesh flapping from its opened maw, and the knobs of mossy green where wide beams of lights shot from hundreds of angles. She swam into a beam of light and joy ricocheted through her flesh, warming her, jolting her with pure energy. A dazzling hum rumbled through her and she sighed, clear eyed. Seeing for the first time. The Miwok. And she never knew. She fingered her outside lungs, tickling the lacy intricacies as they opened and closed, opened and closed. She took a deeper breath and held it. Waves of cold, yet warm water flooded her body. She could feel her body squeezing the oxygen from the liquid and the thrill of the rush of life through her as the breath calmed her, gave her life. The underwater atmosphere changed. Couples separated. Fish scattered and the waters smoothed. The shell opened wider, allowing more light to illuminate the shadows. The Miwok swam to the ocean floor, some of them hand in hand. Malila followed, diving, loving the rush of the sea into her lungs. She exhaled deeply and came to rest on a broad smooth stone. A trail of bubbles floated toward them and then a glorious sound assaulted her senses 5
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for she could not hear as on land, yet she was hearing. A sound akin to the tinkling of a summer rain, pattering on the wide leaves of the palm while their tribal steel drums echoed in the distance. More hollow now. Deep and low, a yearning rhythm of renewal and strength while the Miwok women sang without singing, coming straight from their hearts, bleeding into Malila’s soul with such urgency, she could feel them pressing her forward. She watched in utter amazement as one by one, they knelt at her feet. And through a gale of brightly colored anemones, swam a man not of the Miwok. He was altogether different. Where the Miwok were dark in color with ebony hair and eyes the color of shale, this man was pale as a turtle’s underside with hair the color of sand. He carried a spear at his side, larger than she had ever seen in her village and wore only a covering on his loins. His chest was bare where the Miwok wore many necklaces of abalone. He swam directly to her and knelt at her feet, kissing each of them before rising and pulling her into his arms. He spoke to her without words and she understood, listened with raw joy as the sounds echoed through her, her lungs fluttering with excitement. Malila, my love! At last I am home from my journey. Our union has united the Miwok with the White Man. At long last our feud is over. Our children will know true peace. The secret of Angel Island binds us all. She opened her mouth to speak but his kiss silenced her as bubbles floated, fizzled and popped between them. He swept her into his arms and swam higher as the giant shell closed almost shut, allowing only a wedge of light to illuminate the people of the sea. He carried her to a high shelf behind the gathering below them, laying her upon strands of flowing seaweed, thick and plush. They 6
The Secret of Angel Island were hidden, disguised behind an enormous salmon colored coral reef. Alone. She marveled at his beauty, his wide chest, broad shoulders, slender waist and stout legs. She touched his sea lungs, watching them breathe, knowing she already knew him and always had. She even knew his name and spoke it with her heart, with the language of the sea. Leif! My husband! He grinned at her, his face wavering through the water as he kicked off his clothing. Malila watched as the piece of hide floated around them and then fell slowly to the ocean floor. She thought of Mother Helki. They had walked into the ocean clothed and now she was naked as were the other Miwok, but she was not ashamed. She wore only her abalone necklaces, bouncing between her breasts. It was natural and beautiful. She reveled in it, inhaling deeply as Leif took her face in his hands and kissed her. The light grew dimmer. Cold water swirled around them, cooling their heated skin as his warm tongue twined around hers. Bliss like she had never known wound itself into every shiver, replacing the cold with heat, pure and bold and rich beyond wonder. Malila. I missed you. I was gone for far too long and our child has grown. He palmed her belly. Malila noticed a rounding. A slight hump and gasped. He laughed out loud, laying her against the feathery seaweed, tickling her back, her bottom, swaying with luxurious cadence. He entered her swiftly. A herd of silver fish swam past, glistening in the fading light. Then in one flash, the school dove beneath the two lovers as she curled her legs around him, bringing him closer. She stilled his hair waving in the waters, gathering all of it in her fists as he kissed her lips, her neck, her breasts, pulling her to him, holding her curving back 7
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with one arm as he suckled each breast lovingly. Malila cried out as pleasure seeped into her, flooding her with sheerest, shiny ecstasy. Leif pushed her rump into him, grabbing the blackest hair at the nape of her neck, forcing her face to his, eyes burning with shattering love and devotion. I love you, my Malila. I’ve always loved you, ohant. Her heart fluttered when she heard him speak the Miwok word for wife. Air whooshed into her lungs as he thrust again and again, his eyes locked with hers, loving her, wanting her with all the desire in the deepest of oceans. And so it was the ocean that rocked them to sleep after blazing euphoria shot through them both. Malila! Leif! Forehead to forehead, his blue gaze burned into her, devouring the lush darkness that was only Malila, into one another’s soul, living a secret, making love with the mystical sea. The sea of life had brought them together and would borne their young, cradling their babies in depth of light, magical renewal of life. They cuddled on the ocean shelf, watching as jelly fish floated by, eerie iridescent creatures of rarest beauty, lulling them to sleep and Malila back to real life in one swoosh. Malila felt a hand pull her to her feet. She was drenched, her alabaster frock clinging to her, dripping. She gasped for air and swayed. Helki steadied her, walking her back to the shore where they sat side by side. Malila now stared into the ocean as Helki handed her another shell. “Are you now so sad about my leaving?” she asked with a snicker. Malila turned to her, wide eyed. “All Miwoks go through this?” “No, my child. They all learn of the secret but 8
The Secret of Angel Island not half of them will know the love of your warrior. The Miwok are borne of the sea, bring forth life from the sea but our young are raised on the island until maturity. The sea sustains us.” “Leif,” she whispered. Helki nodded. “A great man. He brings good will to the Miwok.” “I miss him already.” Helki touched her granddaughter’s shoulder. “Now my departure will not be so painful. You have your life to look forward to.” “But when will he come?” Malila asked tossing down the twine, pulling her legs to her chin, watching the tide. Helki giggled. Malila turned to question her when she saw a man on horseback approaching. Hair the color of corn hung over his shoulders. A sword encased in leather was slung across his chest. Malila gasped. Helki rose and walked away from the beach, back toward the village. The horse snorted, kicking up sand as he skirted around a lazy turtle. Malila stood, shading her eyes. The man stopped the horse and tipped his hat. “Good morn. We come in peace. I am Leif Masters.”
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