When Water Burns

by Lani Wendt Young

  “For what? What are you waiting for?” Salamasina limped over to stand beside her.

  Moanasina smiled. A secret, knowing smile. And pointed out across the bay. “For my friends. There they come.”

  Salamasina looked and fear knifed through her. One, two, three dorsal fins cut through the water, moving with deadly speed. She grabbed at the younger girl’s arm. “No, don’t do this. Let them go, please.”

  The wild child only looked puzzled at her pleading. “Why? If they truly are vasa loloa then they will speak to the sharks and will not be hurt.” She turned back to the ocean, nodded her head, and the water whirlwinds dissipated instantly. All three of the telesā fell into the water, blueness swallowing their screams. Black fins circled them.

  “No.” Salamasina knelt in the sand beside the little girl, wincing as every movement sent serrated blades of pain through her body. She put her hands on Moanasina’s shoulders and forced her to look her in the eyes. “They are not like you. They are not as strong as you are. They will not be able to communicate with those sharks. Please don’t do this. It doesn’t matter what they have done to me, or to you – you do not want their blood on your hands. Stop this now, before it’s too late.”

  Moanasina ignored her, staring out over her shoulder to where, one by one, the telesā were re-surfacing, spluttering, and splashing, disoriented from their mad spinning in the whirlwinds. Vahalesi was the first to attain some measure of control, gazing wildly about her. And so she was the first to see the sharks. Her scream was angry and panicked. Salamasina watched in horrified fascination as Vahalesi struggled for some control. Over the ocean. Over the situation. She seemed to be trying to summon waves, something, anything, but nothing happened. She was too flustered, too afraid. And as the three dark shapes moved in lazy circles around the panicked women, Salamasina was afraid for them. She turned back to Moanasina.

  “Stop this now.”

  To her surprise, there was a cheeky smile on Moanasina’s face and her reply was flippant. “Oh, I’m just playing with them. You didn’t really think I would force my friends to eat them do you? I only want to scare them a little. Show them what it feels like to be afraid. Teach them a lesson. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything eat them.”

  Salamasina breathed a sigh of relief. “Whew. You had me worried there.” Now that the threat had been removed, she stood up, her body wilting and reminding her how sore she was. “Ow …”

  A sharp voice from behind them startled them both. “What is the meaning of this?”

  They turned and Salamasina’s heart sank at the sight of the group of women who now stood on the beach. A group of women led by Tavake. The vasa loloa Covenant Keeper. Salamasina’s mother. Well, at least she had been her mother until Salamasina had failed the telesā initiation testing when she had turned twelve. Then the woman who had been her mother had given her away to another. Because she was ungifted. Not even cursed. The opposite of blessed. Just a nothing. A nonentity. I may as well never have been born.

  Again Tavake asked, “What is happening here? Moanasina, what are you doing with this woman?” If she recognized Salamasina, she gave no sign of it.

  The little girl looked defiant. “She’s my friend. I’m helping her. Those telesā were hurting her and I stopped them.”

  A telesā standing to Tavake’s right, tapped her on the arm, pointing out to where Vahalesi and the others still trod water, trying not to move too much as still the sharks circled. “Look there.”

  Tavake looked and her eyes narrowed. “Is that your doing, Moanasina?”

  The girl nodded, and the lack of remorse on her face had the other telesā hissing. “Make her call her creatures off, Tavake, before they harm our sisters. This foolish child really has gone too far this time, trying to harm one of the sisterhood.” There was a murmur of angry assent from the group, like an angry humming hive of bees. If looks could maim, Moanasina and Salamasina would both have been flayed where they stood. But Tavake only rolled her eyes and shook her head at their panic.

  “Be still. Those fools are in no danger.” She raised an eyebrow at Moanasina and the child shifted her feet awkwardly at the searching gaze. “The sharks are there for visual effect only, aren’t they, Moanasina?”

  The others looked disbelieving, but Tavake waved away their concerns with an impatient gesture. “I have spoken with them and no kill command has been issued. The question is though, why did you deem it necessary to frighten them? And prove yet again to all of us that these idiots are undeserving to be called telesā vasa loloa. The first hint of danger and all their training is forgotten. They are reduced to blithering babies. Leave them there. Perhaps then they will know better than to break their sisterhood vows and raise their hands against another telesā.”

  The other women objected. “But Tavake, these are not telesā vasa loloa, well not really. One is a child who hasn’t even entered the Covenant yet. And the other?” A sniff of disdain conveyed more than words what they thought of Salamasina. “Is an Ungifted.”

  “Exactly. What telesā targets children who are meant to be our pupils and women who were once within our sisterhood? No. Leave Vahalesi and the others where they are.”

  The coldness in her tone was chilling. It matched the evening wind that came in off the darkening ocean and the emptiness of the blackening sky. By now the women thrashing in a shark circle had caught sight of their Covenant Keeper and were screaming for help. Their cries limped across the water, tired, afraid, and pitiful.

  The other telesā objected. “But Tavake …”

  She ignored them. Instead, she addressed Moanasina, and the gentleness in her voice was disarming, “So tell me Little One, why do you keep running away from the Covenant? We want to be your family. Your sisters. Why won’t you let us?”

  In that moment, Moanasina’s armor slipped and she looked like a frightened, lonely child. Like she might burst into tears, and Salamasina’s heart ached for her. She stepped forward and placed a comforting arm on the little girl’s shoulders. It had been many years since she had spoken to her mother but compassion gave her strength. “Moanasina has not felt welcome in your Covenant. Some of the telesā have been unduly harsh with her and she feels more at home with her ocean family.”

  If Tavake was annoyed that Salamasina had spoken without her permission, she did not show it. “Is this true?” she asked the little girl.

  Moanasina nodded.

  “I want you to come back to the Covenant. This time it will be different. I have been away travelling and out of touch with the situation. You will live with me and I will take over your training personally. You will have no instruction with any other telesā.” She smiled. It was a beautiful smile that spoke of hope, love, and joy. All the things that Salamasina had never had. ‘Moanasina, you have a blessed future ahead of you. With the right training, your gift could be the one we have all been waiting for, the one spoken of in prophecy. Come with me back into the Covenant and I promise you, no one will hurt you.” She held out her hand, but Moanasina did not move to take it.

  “I don’t want to come back to the Covenant. Vahalesi and her friends will be there.”

  Tavake smiled again. “No, they won’t be.” She turned to look out to the shivering, crying women in a black ocean. Softly, barely whispering, she spoke to the ocean creatures. “I release you.”

  Moanasina’s eyes widened in panic. “No, what are you doing? I told them to be on guard.” She turned and ran to the water’s edge, her eyes, her whole body concentrating on the sharks. Muttering under her breath, she stamped her foot in frustration. “No, stop it. Stop it I say! Listen to me.” She looked again at the Covenant Keeper who only stood there with her arms now folded, relaxed, waiting. Waiting. “Why aren’t they listening to me? I summoned them. They aren’t listening to me anymore.”

  Tavake shrugged. “I gave them permission to be true to their nature. You are not the only one who can speak with sharks. They are doing what they do best.”

 
; Realization trudged with heavy footsteps of dread in Salamasina. “No …” She looked. All the gathered telesā looked.

  The sharks had stopped circling. The dorsal fins had disappeared. For a moment there was nothing but a silken velvet cloth of ocean where three women swam fearfully. And then the screaming began. The wild thrashing in the water. Moanasina cried out, “No, please don’t!”

  Salamasina pulled the girl close to her, covering her eyes, but knowing it would be little use trying to shield her. Moanasina shared a mental link with the ocean predators and no amount of blocking would stop her from feeling, seeing, experiencing everything they were as they ripped the women apart. She was thankful for the darkness at least, shadowing the water that surely must be blood filled. There were two, then one, then the women were no more.

  Moanasina fell to her knees on the sand, retching. Salamasina was angry and her anger gave her courage. “Why did you do that? Can’t you see what that did to her?” She pointed to the child who now rocked back and forth without tears, a vacant gaze out to the ocean. “She’s just a child.”

  Tavake arched an eyebrow. “Exactly. A child with far too much power. Who thinks it’s fun to summon great white sharks to just ‘scare’ people she doesn’t like. She’s playing with gifts that she barely understands, gifts that can bring life or death to those around her.” She pointed out to the bay where sharks continued to churn white surf as they fought over the leavings of their victims. “She needs to see vasa loloa’s creatures for what they really are. They are not her pets or playthings. These ocean gifts are not to be wielded lightly. This child needs telesā training and if you care for her at all, then you will make her see that what we offer her in the Covenant is her best option. Her only option.”

  Salamasina didn’t want to hear the truth in her words. “I could look after her. She could live with me. I would teach her.”

  Tavake sighed, and in that moment she looked older than Salamasina had ever seen her. “And just what would you teach her exactly? How to make cough medicine? Cures for back pain?” She smiled, not unkindly. “You are my daughter and I have watched your talent for healing flourish. I know that many owe you their good health, their mended bones, and even their very lives. There is no denying that our mother fanua speaks to you with the richness of her living bounty. But you are no telesā vasa loloa. And Moanasina does not belong with you.”

  Tavake moved to kneel beside the girl who wept silent tears on a desolate beach, “Come, let us go now.”

  Moanasina’s question was anguished. “Why did you do that? I was never going to let my sharks hurt them.”

  “They were never your sharks, my child. Even though you and I may speak with them, vasa loloa’s creatures are not ours to control. We may befriend them, swim with them, hunt with them, and even live with them for a time – but they are not our tamed animals ready to perform at our bidding. And we must never forget that some of them, like the Great White shark, though we may swim with them, they are never far removed from their basic nature. They are wild. The most lethal killers of the ocean. It was a grievous wrong on your part to call them here today if you were not prepared for them to kill. Let this be your first lesson. When telesā vasa loloa use their powers unwisely, death is the result. The ocean gives us these gifts so we can help people, and protect our earth. Not attack the Ungifted and bully small children. When you are one of us, you will be able to bring much good to many lives. You will be a champion and protector for the ocean that nourishes us all.”

  She gripped the carved handle of her walking stick firmly and rose to her feet. Moanasina rose with her. But before they walked away, the little girl slipped away from Tavake and ran back to hug Salamasina fiercely whispering.

  “I will see you again one day. I don’t care if you are Ungifted. We will see each other again.”

  Salamasina watched the telesā vasa loloa leave before making her painful, bruised way home. She had ointments and bandages that would heal her injuries, but she knew the memory of this day would never fade.

  Time passed. Salamasina met a man called Tanielu Tahi. Love blossomed, grew like the enduring, red burn of the torch ginger flower. They were married. Tanielu had a welding business and catered for all the fencing and boat repair needs on the island. Salamasina continued with her calling as a healer. They were happy. Salamasina’s heart was at peace and wanted no more reminders of vasa loloa. Of what she could have been. They lived their lives separate from the resident telesā sisterhood. As separate as one could be on an island as small as Niuatoputapu.

  But every so often, Moanasina would visit her. They would talk, but nothing too detailed. She was vasa loloa and Salamasina was Ungifted, what was there to say? Tavake had been true to her word. She took over Moanasina’s training personally and people said that the Wild Child would be the inheritor of the Covenant one day. Moanasina never spoke of it on her visits, but she had never been much of a talker. Sometimes Moanasina would just sit in Salamasina’s garden, watching her at work with her medicines. She would listen to the older woman, let her prattle on – about her beloved husband, her plants, her babies.

  Yes, her babies. Salamasina and Tanielu wanted nothing more than to have a family but it was not to be. Three times they were blessed with a pregnancy, and three times Salamasina miscarried. In spite of all her knowledge, all her efforts, none of her babies made it to full term. And each time, Moanasina knew somehow and came to visit her friend. Still not speaking a word. Just to hug her, cry with her – and then slip away before her absence was noticed.

  The years passed. Moanasina stayed with the sisterhood and made her Covenant with them when she was old enough. She was their most powerful weapon when it came to marine conservation and protection, but she never truly felt like she belonged there. She hated many of their rules, felt suffocated by their closeness. By the sisterhood. Because in her heart, in her soul, Moanasina was still that wild child who preferred the company of dolphins to people. Salamasina was the closest thing she had to a sister. A mother. A friend. She allowed no one else in.

  Until she met Ryan Grey. A marine biologist from New Zealand who came to study the abundance of sea life in Tonga’s pristine waters. One day he came across a dolphin caught in a fishing net and was battling to try and save it. Moanasina heard the dolphin’s distress cries and went out to find it. There they were, the two of them. Both champions of the ocean. Was it any wonder they fell in love?

  For the first time, Moanasina had found another human who spoke her language. And Ryan Grey? Love for this dark-eyed girl with the wild edge to her every movement swept through him and over him. They were inseparable. She joined him on his boat and they spent many days at a time out in the ocean. She helped him with his research, led him to all the best locations for gathering the information he needed. Ryan had a taste for music, and on moonlit nights he sat on the deck of his boat and played wordless love melodies for the girl who swam with silver dolphins in a sea that trembled softly with black diamonds.

  Those who knew Moanasina saw her change. A gradual but consuming change. Salamasina had never seen her so happy. At peace.

  Her happiness was dangerous. Salamasina tried to warn her. “You must put an end to this relationship before it’s too late. You are covenant telesā, Tavake’s second. You are putting this man’s life at risk. And your own.”

  But Moanasina did not listen. Love is like that. It makes lovers feel invincible. Like they can take on the world. And overcome all. It was obvious to Tavake that Moanasina was in way over her head with this man. But what made it worse was that the telesā suspected Moanasina was using her gifts to aid his research. Tavake took her aside. Warned her. Pleaded with her to end the liaison. Send the man away before telesā law was invoked.

  And then the inevitable happened. Moanasina went to share the news with Salamasina. Running into her backyard garden with feet of lightness. Joy. Laughter. Pausing first to look somewhat suspiciously at the older woman.

  “Salamasin
a, are you expecting?!”

  An embarrassed laugh. “Yes. At my age? Something of a shock, I know!” She patted her belly with careful pride. “But a miracle that Tanielu and I are both so grateful for. I’m only about six weeks along and already showing.” A rueful shake of her head. “I think she will be a very big miracle baby.”

  Mindful of all that Salamasina had endured in her years of trying for a child, Moanasina’s eyes softened as she hugged her friend with delicate care. “Yes she will. And she will have the best mother any child could hope for.”

  Salamasina smiled, “Thank you.” She drew Moanasina to sit with her in the shade of the sweeping mango tree that ruled the yard. “Now, tell me what news brings you here with such a happy smile and a light heart?”

  “It is wonderful news. The best news.” She stopped and held the healer’s hands in hers. “I’m pregnant too. We will be mothers together. Our children will grow up together.”

  Cold dread darkened the day. “No, please say you are joking. You are being foolish Moanasina.”

  Still smiling. Still unaware of the oil slick of horror pooling in Salamasina’s chest. “No, I’m not teasing you. It’s true. I’m going to have a baby. Ryan doesn’t know yet. I’m going to tell him tomorrow. It’s his birthday and this will be the most precious gift.” Can anyone be more absorbed than a teenager in love?

  “Have you forgotten who you are? What you are? You are telesā. Our children can never grow up together.”

  Moanasina was defiant. Stubborn. “This is my baby and I will say what will happen to him.”

  Salamasina reeled. “Him? You are carrying a boy? How do you know this?”

  She smiled a secret smile and patted her still-flat midriff. “My water brothers and sisters have spoken to him. They have told me so. My baby lives, breathes in water within me. And already he speaks to the dolphins. They can hear his thoughts, sense his feelings. He is vasa loloa like me. I can’t see him, but at night I dream of his face and he will look just like his father. Just like Ryan. He’s going to be so happy. We have talked about how much we want to have a family. We just didn’t think it would happen this soon.”