Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4-7 2019 | Page 193

Where the Desert Meets the Sea
St. Joseph's College, Wong, Sean - 16
“The moon illuminates the seas,
To reveal your future;
The dark clouds shall leave.
No evil will come.”
The Oracle of Mat-Su, Fortune 16 of 60.
The monsoon descended.
Silver bolts hurtled downwards from the blackened sky to strike the sea. Electrified waves roared in fury,
gales whipping claw-like peaks that reached skywards.
Between the sky and sea lay a majestic vessel, a junk far from home. However grand it must have seemed to
the mortals inhabiting it, it was puny before nature – as the forces of the sea crushed the ship, hundreds tried
to claw their way to safety, but most soon sank beneath the waves, their souls consumed by the emotionless
void.
The mortals dragged to the depths with them their failed Goddess. Centuries after her last worshippers were
consumed by time, the Goddess lay dormant and still.
***
2018, Kenya
“Ngendo! Ngendo!”
Grandma was calling. Ngendo pretended not to hear. She didn’t quite remember why she was running
away: was it some quarrel? Was it some sort of playful breakout? It didn't matter. Ngendo’s bare soles
danced across the soft, warm sand of the beach to leave imprints the shape of palm leaves. She felt the grains
of sand between her toes and the oceanic breeze's saline scent against her face. All across the beach, the
turquoise sea dissolved against the golden sand with clockwork regularity.
“Ngendo!”
The voice was growing closer. The girl sped up and sprinted ever quicker, adrenaline coursing through her
body. Her neatly braided dreadlocks, which were tangled up in an immodest mess of knots, kept falling
over her eyes, but Ngendo did not mind, nor did she care; she only wanted to burrow her way into the
small, isolated cove at the end of the beach and disappear from sight.
The cove was her private corner. When Mother was still around, she regaled her with stories about the
past, all with one recurring motif: how adventurers came to Kenya in search of liberty. These adventurers
brought with them stories and traditions—one of them being the tale of Aladdin, a Chinese prince who
found a cave of treasures in Arabia. Ngendo didn't have a cave, but she did have a cove. Therein lay her
treasures: shards of emerald green coke bottles, bracelets without jewels, yolkish seashells. Each of the
treasures had washed up on the cove's wet sand to meet their new owner.
Something new had arrived in the cove. Moving closer, Ngendo saw a chunk of grey, dull rock covered in
a sad mess of seaweed and salt. Ngendo submerged the rock in seawater to rub off the grime and dirt,
revealing a distinct humanoid outline. More scrubbing unveiled a pair of cherry lips. As Ngendo caressed
the lips, a soft glow emanated from the statuette. A gust of wind thundered through the cove, and a fork of
white flame crashed into the sea. Ngendo's reflexes kicked in--she raised her hands to protect her face, her
skin turned chalky white and her nails dug into her palms, turning a wounded blood red.
A soft ray of warm light shone upon the cowering child. Soft hands touched Ngendo's thin arms to calm
the blood racing through her veins. In the chaos of the moment, Ngendo hadn’t realized that she was
crying, but that didn’t matter – drops of tears were delicately brushed off her eyes like raindrops sliding off
umbrellas. Ngendo opened her eyes and focused on the face before her. Anxiously, she coughed out three
timid words, “Wh…who are you?”
“Fear not my child,” said the tall figure standing before Ngendo. A motherly smile, a flowing jade-hued
robe and a torch in her hand. “Child, I am the silent one, I am the Heavenly mother, I am Mat-Su. I have
been summoned to the mortal world.”
“Who?”