Page 30 of Between Salt and Serenades
“Now these. May I?” the chipper man asked. He held out a pair of funky looking goggles with tinted lenses. I simply nodded my head and stepped forward so he could slide them onto my face. “There we go. Now you really look like Liselle.”
When he took a step back, my vision was consumed by partial darkness, as if the sun had decided to depart early today. I cleared my throat, watched him through tinted glasses, and asked, “What next?”
“Now, we get to work! What’re you looking to make?” he asked, leaning on his char-covered workbench.
I sat with his question, my mind running through the pieces of art he had in his shop. My mind went to the pieces my father had displayed in his apartment all those years ago, what he’d brought to the sea to show Zellia and me. I thought about what my sister had worn around her neck for years.
Her necklace was something I could never have as a hunter. I needed to be prepared in case of an attack, and that preparation didn’t include jewelry that could get me killed. I hated that necklace of hers because it reminded me that she got to be a kid, and all I got was the weight of heavy responsibility.
I wasn’t in the Dreslee right now, fighting for my people. No, I was here on land. The realization that I was free to wear whatever I wanted hit me, and it was the relief I didn’t realize I needed.
“What about jewelry?” I asked, nerves fluttered through my stomach.
“Jewelry, huh? It’s not what I typically do, but I guess you have no need for big glass pieces, do you now?” he said, more so to himself than me. He scanned his shelves and moved some things around, in search of, well, I wasn’t sure. “Yeah, we can make you something small and lightweight, something wearable that you can easily take with you when you go back to the sea.”
Back to the sea.
Why did those four words sit in my gut like a rock?
“Yeah. Sounds perfect.”
“Alright then. Let’s see what I’ve got.” He went off into his storage room, making a racket as he dug through his things. When he came back, he held up a thin rope like the one tied around Zellia’s neck. “I have an idea.”
“Let’s hear it.” I fought a grin as I took in the excitement that bubbled up in him. He could barely contain his smile, but I didn’t need to see his face to see this man’s contentment. His voice said it all.
“I obviously haven’t been to your home, but I’ve heard as much about it as a human could and, well, I know a thing or two about aquatic fashion,” he said. “How about we make you a necklace? You can make the glass whatever color you’d like.”
“A necklace?” I thought about it for a moment. Was I a fraud if I wore a pretty, dainty thing like my sister had? It wasn’t uncommon for women in my pod to use the treasures they found in the sea to make themselves body decor, but I was never able to be one of those women. I had my chest of glass, and that was all I could allow myself.
“You’re on land! Might as well have a bit of fun while you’re here. What color would you like?” he asked. He held up a panel of sample glass pieces, so I shoved the protective glasses onto the top of my head so I could see the colors clearly. My eyes skimmed over various beautiful blues, hues of greens, and deep reds, but I didn’t want something so obvious. I was about to scratch the whole idea and go for a ring instead when an opalescent piece of glass caught my eye. It was mostly clear but had hints of pearl running through it.
“This one,” I said, tapping my nail on the seashell-inspired glass twice.
“Good choice. This one is gorgeous in the light. It will suit you well, little minnow.”
I smiled at his little nickname and slid the protective glasses back over my eyes. He grabbed a pair for himself, and the two of us got to work. He showed me the ropes, blowing several swirling glass designs that resembled water droplets using spare pieces of glass from previous projects. He made sure I watched his every move, down to his glass cooling technique, and I took it all in without a second thought.
We’d only taken a brief break for shortbread cookies and tea in the little sitting area at the back of the workshop. I remember the melt-in-your-mouth cookies being my dad’s favorite, but it had been so long since I’d had one, I completely forgot the taste. Not this time, though, that was for sure. I savored each little buttery bite as my grandfather told me stories of his son. He beamed with absolute pride, though, every once in a while, pain would slip into his voice.
When the conversation had died down, I’d decided to tell him about Breena. I’d caught him up on our predicament: how we'd gotten to land, why we were here, and why we hadn’t been able to get back home.
“What a pairing. Well, I suppose your grandmother and I were too,” he said when I was finally done talking.
“We’re not a pair.” I brushed shortbread crumbs off my hands by rubbing them together. The grease from the crumbs spread across my hands, making me even stickier. My grandfather handed me a hankie, and I took it with a sheepish grin. Eating on land was always so… messy.
“No, I suppose that’s not what the kids are calling it these days. Mate?” he asked with a subtle tilt of his head. One of his large ears poked out from his white hair as his locks fell to the side.
I almost snorted the tea I had just taken into my mouth. This man was relentless. I shook my head, placed the porcelain cuponto the saucer on a small wooden table next to me, and reached for another cookie.
My eyes flicked to the oven, suddenly all too aware of the flames that danced over the stone walls marked by years of scorching touch.
“Yeah, we call it a mate these days, but you don’t know Breena. She’s, well… I’m still trying to figure her out,” I admitted. I placed a hand on my hot cheek and averted my gaze.
“Alright, little minnow. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just thought… Well, I just hoped you found yourself a partner, someone who loves you like I loved your grandmother and your father loved your mother. Because you stayed here to help her, well, I just thought…” He trailed off.
“He did love her, didn’t he? My father,” I said, diverting the conversation. Things were too new with Breena; it felt odd to speak whatever was going on between us into existence. Maybe part of me was scared that if I did, it would all be ripped away from me before it even began.
“He sure did,” he said as his face dropped. The man who outlived his own son now had to live the rest of his days knowing he wasn’t coming back. I choked on the lump in my throat, needing a distraction. I needed a different topic of conversation or to resume working on the necklace he’d wanted me to have.
