Welcome again to YAFF Muse: blog rounds. The ladies of YA Fiction Fanatics have come together for YAFF Muse. To have a little fun, explore different styles of writing and to give you some kick-butt shorts to read. Enjoy!
Musical Burial by OfficialTwilamore
Summer vacations always the same: help Grandpa run the Tiki Treat, hit the beach at 4, ride some waves, then go home for dinner. People think living on an island is great, but that’s because they’re here on vacation. Instead of trying to escape from here to the mainland.
“Aloha,” says a girl, trying to use local lingo.
“Hello,” I say using hers. She blushes. “What can I get you, haole?”
She smiles, proving she’s oblivious to being called a foreigner. “Can you make something with banana?”
I nod and watch as she fiddles with the lei dangling from her neck.
“Wikiwiki!” Grandpa shouts from behind, always trying to rush me. Not realizing these things take time.
I whip together one of our more popular smoothies and hand it over the counter. “Eight fifty,” I say.
Her brows lift, she pulls a pink iPod from the pocket of her shorts and sets it on the counter to search for cash. Pulling out a ten, she slips it over to me and says, “For this price it better taste good.”
No thank you or anything, just the ungrateful payment. I tell her its “ono” and she stares at me a second before asking what I said.
“That means it’s delicious,” I say, handing the change to her.
She takes the money greedily and pockets it along with the iPod, ignoring the tip jar. Actions like this make what comes next easy.
“You’re new to the island?” I say before she steps away.
“Yes. I’m here with my parents. They’re back at the resort being boring.”
“Yeah, that sucks.” I smile as if I care. “If you get the chance you should visit the singing sands.”
“Is that so,” she says, flicking her tongue to capture her straw. After she takes a sip, she makes her eyes big and puffs her chest out. “And just how do I find it?”
Just like so many others before her she takes the bait. “I get off in five minutes if you want to wait.”
“Sure.” She giggles.
Minutes later I yell to Grandpa. “Pau. Aloha.”
“What’s that you just said?” she asks as we leave the Tiki Treat.
I give her a thoughtful look. “I told him I finished and goodbye.”
Leading her down the beach, I think of college in the mid-west. How after this summer I won’t be forced to work my in grandpa’s shop or…
“This is it,” I say.
She turns disappointed. “Are you kidding me? It’s just a beach.” Her fingers clench tight to her banana smoothie, crushing the edges of the cup.
“Just wait. Listen.” I lean, dig my hands into the sand and then call out, “Akua.”—spirit.
The sands shift beneath us, the voices of many rising from within. I step back to watch as the ground spins into a great whirlpool. At first the girl watches in awe, but when the sands shift ripping the earth from under her, sucking her in, she screams.
“Help me! Please!” Her fingers tear in every direction, for leverage. Fear creases her features until she disappears. The only things left, protruding from of the sand, are her iPod and smoothie. They look as if someone has left them to go for a quick swim.
Picking up the cup I take a drink. Hmm, still cold. I smile and gather the iPod as well. Then, make my way back to the Tiki Treat.
“Ahola,” Grandpa says, looking surprised to see me. “I thought you are going surfing tonight?”
“Yeah, same old—same old. I just needed to drop something off,” I mutter, hiding the iPod in a box with my other souvenirs.
“It’ll be a big sacrifice, having you leave this island for college.” Grandpa shakes his head.
“You have no idea.”
© 2010, July 13, rmg.
This weeks inspiration was mostly the picture. Not a very thrilling explanation, I know. Maybe I’ll give a bit of advice too: be careful when vacationing, never follow some guy running a smoothie stand to a ‘popular hangout’. Also, remember the old adage ‘never talk to strangers’ and possibly add to that, if you must talk, try and be nice.
After commenting, be sure to stop by other YAFFER sites to see how the picture inspired them: