At an early age, I was told that men should never show emotions. My thoughts and feelings must be tamed, or else I am weak. I have now reached a mature age, bearing the responsibility of becoming the head of the household to support my family. I do this very well. I go fishing day in and night out so my parents can live comfortably. I bite my tongue and turn my head when I see my father’s friends abuse and belittle their wives. That is not my business. I must only focus on what truly matters. Stability.
As I sit on the beach, I breathe in the salty air. The moon is full tonight, the sand still toasty from harboring the heat of the sun. I dig my fingers into the beach. At first, it is warm like a summer’s heart and as I go deeper, it becomes cold, like a winter’s tale. Guam does not have winter, but I imagine it feeling like this from the stories the Spaniards have told. The waves rise, fall, and then repeat. I look up at the moon, whose light offers a guide for anyone making their way home.
I like to think she hears me, and listens, and knows my heart. Forgive me moon, for I must release these emotions onto you once more. I curl my fists in the sand and take a deep breath in.
“Argh!” Someone screams.
My head jerks towards the entrance of the beach and I see a girl.
“Why does everyone think they own me?” She shouts in anguish, placing her hands on her forehead, and pushing upwards her hair, revealing her face.
It is the maga’låhi’s granddaughter. It is weird seeing her outside of the church. I always forget her father is the Spaniard businessman. Father always moaned about the Spaniards calling us thieves when they were the ones who took our island from us.
“Come on, answer me!” She walks towards the shoreline and into the waters, “tell me! Tell me why nobody asks me how I feel!” She shouts at the moon.
“Hello?”
She gasps and looks my way. “You shouldn’t be sneaking up on people.”
I scoff, “You shouldn’t be screaming in the middle of the night. You’ll wake our ancestors.”
“Well excuse me, I didn't know you owned the beach.” She leaves the water and holds her dress, showing her feet.
“That was a good one.” I nod and turn my head back to the waves; the rise and fall are all we hear. “You beat me, by the way,” I say, not looking at her.
“What?”
“Screaming at the moon.” I glance at her. “I was this close, but you beat me to it.” I chuckle softly, returning my gaze to the ocean.
“What’s stopping you?”
That catches me off guard. “You’re right.” I rest my back on the sand and inhale deeply. With one push, I scream at the top of my lungs. The moon stays silent, but her waning glow blankets me like she always does, and my chest deepens.
“Feel better?”
“Loads.” I hear my voice shake. I glance at her. From this angle, her wavy hair glistens as if the moonlight is coating it with its luminosity. “Want to join?” I pat the sand to my left three times.
She hesitates but eventually makes her way to me. I stretch my arms and place both hands on the back of my head. She sits down and wraps her arms around her legs. Her eyes awe as she looks out into the distance. This is not the same girl who sings her heart out during the Sunday mass. She’s less confident now, something I relate to very well.
“I’m Tasi.”
“I’m—”
“Maiana.” I cut her off. “I know who you are, everyone knows who you are.”
The waves rise, fall, and repeat.
“I wish nobody knew who I was.” She confesses. “I wish— I wish I was a normal girl.”
“I understand.”
She looks down at me.
I extend my right hand to the night lights above, reaching out for them. “I wish I could just be me.”
“And who is Tasi?”
Our eyes meet, the question taking me by surprise.
“... He wants to be free. Free from who I’m supposed to be.” I say aloud for the first time.
Maiana moves herself a little lower and lies back with me. She releases a big sigh and closes her eyes. This is the first conversation I ever had with Maiana. As beautiful as I’ve always thought her to be, I sense that there is more to her than I ever cared to see.
“I’m sorry about your wedding arrangements.”
“How did—”
“You told the whole beach remember?” I chuckle at the memory.
“It’s not fair.” Her voice cracks.
“It never is.”
Silence takes over with the wave's interval in the background.
“Let’s run away.” She breaks the silence.
“What?”
She sits up, “I know we just met but we don’t have to go through feeling like this. Let’s be free.” In the moon’s light, tiny crystals form beneath her eyes.
I sit up, “our families will kill us.”
“Let them.”
“You’re not joking. How— where will we go?”
“Far from here. We’ll stow away in one of the ships, live far away as possible and build a better life, a better one than this.”
I am speechless. Maiana is a lot of things, but I did not think she had this within her. She has spoken out loud the thoughts I have had for years. Tears begin to fill my eyes, not because of the thoughts, but finally, I get to feel something other than guilt.
“Yeah... let’s do it.” I nod
Maiana sighs in relief and hugs me. This takes both of us aback, but the gravity of our bodies gets tighter and before we know it, our lips connect.
That night, Maiana and I found love under the moonlight. I knew then, I would die for this girl. Because now, we stand here, at a cliff surrounded by everyone who is against our freedom. Against our love. Against us. The sun begins to set, leaving golden-orange streaks in the skies. The blue ocean stretches miles in every direction, but I hear the same waves crashing below.
Maiana pulls my face, and our eyes meet once more. She smiles wide but her eyes, the lightest of brown, are filled with sorrow. I understand. She unties my hair, and the wind pulls it in all directions. I grab the long silky strands and so does she with hers. She takes mine and begins weaving them both into a tight knot. My palms find her cheeks and I reach for a kiss. Her lips are warm, like a summer’s heart, and the breeze flowing through us, like a winter’s tale. The moon heard our plea. We will never separate. We will never let go.
“No!” Her father screams.
