A Journey

The sound of the ocean's waves roared in my ears. It was like thunder, pounding in my heart like a drum. We sat there together, watching the waves lick the golden sand before hastily making its retreat back into the sea. Our satchels sat beside us on the hill as we waited for a wagon to pass by to take us to the next to town.

"Hey, Chiasa?" I said suddenly.

She glanced over at me. Me, her twin. Those brown eyes identical to my own staring curiously back at me, "Yes?"

"Why did you come on this journey with me?" My words coming forth and bursting from me before I could reel them back in. The possibility of an answer terrified me.

For the last three years, it had been this way. Traveling from town to town, by foot, by boat, by caravan, it didn't matter. Just so long as we kept moving. It's not as if we were running from something, that's not it at all. There were so many places, so many people, and so many stories to be heard and to be told. It's been the greatest experience in my life. All the time though, I've wondered why she came with me. Chiasa is not a wanderer, she is not like me. She is as gentle as a lamb and as kind as a saint. She is pure, like an angel, yet strong, resilient. I'm the selfish one. I'm the one who wants to see the world, not her. She was satisfied with our happy, quiet life, but not me. I was the one who tried to leave in the middle of the night, desperate for escape. I had been so certain no one was awake to hear me.

"Alma?" Her quiet voice had been louder in the dark silence of the summer night than any ringing alarm or screeching night owl.

I should have known better. She always knew what was going on inside my head, even when I didn't. After I told her my plans, I expected her to try and stop me. To say I was being foolish and to come back home and to bed. However, what she did say shocked me to my very core.

"I'll come with you," she had said.

Why had she said that? She'd have been much more content at home in our little village. She could have become a doctor at the clinic. Hell, she could have run the whole thing for God's sake! Why then, did she choose to follow me instead? Why? The guilt was eating away at me and in truth, although I did wish to know her reasons, part of me was terrified to know. Was it out of the duty of being the older twin? Did she feel she had to accompany me, to make sure nothing happened to me? If it was out of pity, I was certain I would break. I already felt insignificant to her; I didn't want her to feel sorry for me too.

She seemed to be contemplating my words. Thinking it over with that thoughtful expression on her innocent face. Finally, she shrugged and replied, "I guess...I just wanted to see what you see."

I stared as she smiled softly back at me before standing and looking back over the road we had come from before settling on the road ahead. Those gentle rolling hills, the grassy plains, and that one long dirt road that disappeared into the distance.

"You were always talking about the world. About how amazing it is and big it is. I never really considered what life would be like outside of our village." Chiasa said, her eyes never once leaving the horizon. "To be honest, I was afraid of ever trying to find out. But... You..."

My sister looked back at me, where I sat. "You were always so brave and you made it all seem so much less scary," she replied with a sweet, sunny smile. "And now, because of you, I can see it too. The ocean's majestic beauty, the voices and faces of so many people, even the wind in my hair. Seeing the land just stretch out before you, seeing all of the roads you can take, all of the mountains you can climb. It's incredible." The light of the setting sun seemed to reflect off her face as she breathed it all in, her eyes falling shut. "Out here, there are just so many colors.  It feels so...real."

Her arms held out wide like wings, she walked down the hill across the beach and stepped out of her shoes and into the surf. I followed and watched her from the edge of the shore. The cool water raced up and covered my feet before quickly receding once more. She spun in the surf, twirling like a dancer, as a truly happy smile graced her face. The late summer sunset illuminated her blonde hair, our blonde hair, making it turn golden in the light. Reds, oranges, gold's and purples lit up the sky giving my sister an almost, celestial appearance.

She didn't hate me. She was grateful to me. What I had misinterpreted, she had understood completely. I found myself grinning like a fool as I joined her, splashing my sister and fooling around until we finally emerged from the water completely soaked from our dripping hair to our water-logged breeches. We laughed and lay back on the hillside to let our clothes dry. A hay wagon soon stopped and the elderly couple driving it kindly invited us to "hop on up." As we drove along, Chiasa fell asleep, her still damp hair haloing her face and she snuggled into the straw and closer to my side. I smiled down at her and placed my hand over hers. She smiled in her sleep.

And the world seemed just a little more beautiful.