Blame
Olivia Alencar
Her mother pinched her brother’s cheek lightly, smiling brightly at him despite the cloudy day outside. “Just be back before dinner,” she said turning back to the sink full of dirty dishes. The wood creaked loudly as her brother ran outside of their little home, the screened door squeaking closed behind him. Her mother turned to her with stony eyes, a sneer replacing the smile that had just been on her face. “I heard from neighbors that the crocodiles were acting up again,” she frowned, “it’s your responsibility to make sure everything is okay.” Sefina sighed inwardly. It was always her. Do this, Sefina, her mother would say. Why didn’t you do as I said, Sefina, her mother would ask in anger. It was truly exhausting.
“Why should I take care of him?” Sefina asked bitterly. “He is older than I am.” Her mother glared at her for talking back.
“I have told you before. This is our culture that you are berating,” her mother rolled her eyes, waving her off with a hand. “Just do as I say. And—”
“Hurry up!” Aleki called from outside, probably tired from waiting.
“Drop the attitude,” her mother said as she turned to the sink once more. Sefina spared one last glance at her mother before running outside with Aleki. They chased each other to the back shed. A small shadow followed them along, barking excitedly to see the two of them. The chill island wind crashed the waves roughly against the rocky cliff, the dark clouds moving to cover the sun completely. The palm trees swayed heavily to one side, the wind rustling the leaves noisily.
“It’s a chilly day out,” Sefina shuddered slightly as she looked around the small clearing of their home. The sky was shrouded by the gray clouds.
Aleki glanced up momentarily from the latch on the shed door to stare at the sky. A small frown appeared on his face, “I just hope it doesn’t rain”. He pulled the door open, bringing out the chewed-up soccer ball that the two of them often played with. Sabre ran up to Aleki, pawing at his legs to get to the ball.
“Pass it to me!” Sefina said, laughing as Aleki fell back against the onslaught of Sabre’s licks. He threw the ball past Sabre to Sefina who ran off with it. She kicked it here and there, dribbling it between her legs. Sabre bounded off of Aleki and raced after Sefina. She barked with utter joy, despite the harsh and gloomy weather. Aleki recovered quickly and dashed after both of them, his grin splitting his face in delight. Sefina ran past the boundaries of the clearing, pushing past the thick undergrowth to the game trails that peppered the forest around their clearing. Aleki was close on her heels. So close that he nearly bumped into her when she suddenly stopped at the edge of the river. He peered around her shoulder to see the ball bobbing slowly on the surface of the calm water. Sabre was at the water’s edge barking desperately at the ball.
“I’ll get it,” Aleki said without hesitation as he moved around Sefina and stepped into the frigid water.
“Careful,” Sefina murmured. Worry was evident in her voice, though she didn’t show it on her face. Her mother’s warning forgotten in her mind, only a slight unease filled her.
“I’ll be fine,” he said easily, showing none of the uneasiness he felt. “What is there to fear?” He waded farther into the water. Sabre was still barking ceaselessly at the water, enough so that Sefina tapped her lightly on the snout. Sabre paused for only a moment before resuming.
“Are you sure everything is okay? Sabre never acts like this,” Sefina glanced at the water for a moment.
“Yes,” Aleki said a bit too harshly as he continued to push farther into the water to the point where he could no longer feel the bottom. “It’s nothi-” his words were cut short as his scream suddenly pierced the air. He began to thrash in the water, fighting desperately against whatever was pulling him down. Sefina screamed along with him, her voice straining as she called with everything she had. He disappeared beneath the water, violent waves shattering the surface. Crocodile, she thought with a terrible, sinking feeling. That was why Sabre had been barking so much. Blood began to darken the water as the crocodile twirled in rapid succession, tearing his limbs from his body. Any remaining air ripped from his lungs as the seconds ticked by.
“Tinā! Tamā!” Sefina screamed over and over, sobbing for her parents. “Help!” She cried as she watched the animal began to stop its death rolls. She was on her knees watching with the dreadful feeling that Aleki was no longer alive. Her parents burst through the plants in time to watch the water completely still. Her mother collapsed with wide eyes as she watched the murky water slowly wash any trace of Aleki away. There was hardly any movement aside from the small waves that spread across the water. Her father hesitated for only a second before charging at the water as though there was something to be done. Sefina screamed at her father to stop, pushing herself onto her feet to hold him back. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, sobbing into his soft shirt. He held her firmly, tears streaking his own face as he stared with desperate longing at the water.
Her mother was still on the ground, wailing “my son. My dearest boy. My child,” for what felt like an eternity. Nobody moved. Sefina shook in her father’s arms, muttering “I’m sorry” until the words sounded foreign and strange. He kissed her forehead, his own tears still falling silently.
“There was nothing you could have done,” her father said quietly, though her mother overhead regardless.
“YOU!” Her mother screamed with such viciousness that Sefina flinched. “How could you let this happen?!” Her mother keened. “How could you let him die?” She ran at her daughter, prying her away from her father’s arms. “You did NOTHING to save him,” her mother shook her violently. Her father pleaded with Sefina’s mother to stop, though she could not be reasoned with in her grief. She continued to berate her daughter, pushing Sefina to the breaking point. “It is your fault he is dead,” her mother whispered quietly when her sobs overtook her again. Sefina stood motionless, not quite comprehending anything. It is your fault he is dead; the truth of those words rang painfully in her mind. Her father pulled her mother away, wrapping his arms around her to guide her shaking form back to the house. He spared a glance over his shoulder to beckon Sefina to come inside. She waited a moment longer, staring out at the water again.
- * * *
Sefina sat down, still unused to not setting up the fourth spot at the dinner table. It had been weeks since the incident and Sefina could hardly bear to look at her mother, lest she give her that look of complete animosity again. Her parents joined her a moment later, though there was no conversation to be had. The only noise was the loud whistling of the wind and the patters of rain on their uninsulated roof. The candles on the table gave the room an unsettling light that flickered back and forth. Any day in which the sun was not shining, Sefina would picture her brother using his last bit of strength before the water took him completely.
“Clean it up,” her mother said quietly without even having touched her plate. Her mother was thinking about Aleki as well, Sefina thought. She would never cut dinner this short otherwise. Sefina glanced at her father for a second as he frowned at her mother but did not argue against her decision. Without a word of disagreement, Sefina stood and took the plates to the kitchen. It hardly took any time to put the foods in containers, but her father had already gone back to his room by the time she was done. She was alone with her mother again.
It was agonizing to stand around her mother for too long, even on a good day. But as the darkness of the storm crept upon their land, Sefina knew today was not one of those days. Her mother was helping bring silverware into the kitchen, but Sefina heard her pause at the doorway. She turned to find her mother standing with her head bowed, a chain Aleki often wore gripped tightly in one hand. In her other, she held a steak knife with such pressure that her knuckles turned white.
“How?” Her mother said in a nearly inaudible tone, “how could you let him die?”
And that is when Sefina began screaming.
“Why should I take care of him?” Sefina asked bitterly. “He is older than I am.” Her mother glared at her for talking back.
“I have told you before. This is our culture that you are berating,” her mother rolled her eyes, waving her off with a hand. “Just do as I say. And—”
“Hurry up!” Aleki called from outside, probably tired from waiting.
“Drop the attitude,” her mother said as she turned to the sink once more. Sefina spared one last glance at her mother before running outside with Aleki. They chased each other to the back shed. A small shadow followed them along, barking excitedly to see the two of them. The chill island wind crashed the waves roughly against the rocky cliff, the dark clouds moving to cover the sun completely. The palm trees swayed heavily to one side, the wind rustling the leaves noisily.
“It’s a chilly day out,” Sefina shuddered slightly as she looked around the small clearing of their home. The sky was shrouded by the gray clouds.
Aleki glanced up momentarily from the latch on the shed door to stare at the sky. A small frown appeared on his face, “I just hope it doesn’t rain”. He pulled the door open, bringing out the chewed-up soccer ball that the two of them often played with. Sabre ran up to Aleki, pawing at his legs to get to the ball.
“Pass it to me!” Sefina said, laughing as Aleki fell back against the onslaught of Sabre’s licks. He threw the ball past Sabre to Sefina who ran off with it. She kicked it here and there, dribbling it between her legs. Sabre bounded off of Aleki and raced after Sefina. She barked with utter joy, despite the harsh and gloomy weather. Aleki recovered quickly and dashed after both of them, his grin splitting his face in delight. Sefina ran past the boundaries of the clearing, pushing past the thick undergrowth to the game trails that peppered the forest around their clearing. Aleki was close on her heels. So close that he nearly bumped into her when she suddenly stopped at the edge of the river. He peered around her shoulder to see the ball bobbing slowly on the surface of the calm water. Sabre was at the water’s edge barking desperately at the ball.
“I’ll get it,” Aleki said without hesitation as he moved around Sefina and stepped into the frigid water.
“Careful,” Sefina murmured. Worry was evident in her voice, though she didn’t show it on her face. Her mother’s warning forgotten in her mind, only a slight unease filled her.
“I’ll be fine,” he said easily, showing none of the uneasiness he felt. “What is there to fear?” He waded farther into the water. Sabre was still barking ceaselessly at the water, enough so that Sefina tapped her lightly on the snout. Sabre paused for only a moment before resuming.
“Are you sure everything is okay? Sabre never acts like this,” Sefina glanced at the water for a moment.
“Yes,” Aleki said a bit too harshly as he continued to push farther into the water to the point where he could no longer feel the bottom. “It’s nothi-” his words were cut short as his scream suddenly pierced the air. He began to thrash in the water, fighting desperately against whatever was pulling him down. Sefina screamed along with him, her voice straining as she called with everything she had. He disappeared beneath the water, violent waves shattering the surface. Crocodile, she thought with a terrible, sinking feeling. That was why Sabre had been barking so much. Blood began to darken the water as the crocodile twirled in rapid succession, tearing his limbs from his body. Any remaining air ripped from his lungs as the seconds ticked by.
“Tinā! Tamā!” Sefina screamed over and over, sobbing for her parents. “Help!” She cried as she watched the animal began to stop its death rolls. She was on her knees watching with the dreadful feeling that Aleki was no longer alive. Her parents burst through the plants in time to watch the water completely still. Her mother collapsed with wide eyes as she watched the murky water slowly wash any trace of Aleki away. There was hardly any movement aside from the small waves that spread across the water. Her father hesitated for only a second before charging at the water as though there was something to be done. Sefina screamed at her father to stop, pushing herself onto her feet to hold him back. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, sobbing into his soft shirt. He held her firmly, tears streaking his own face as he stared with desperate longing at the water.
Her mother was still on the ground, wailing “my son. My dearest boy. My child,” for what felt like an eternity. Nobody moved. Sefina shook in her father’s arms, muttering “I’m sorry” until the words sounded foreign and strange. He kissed her forehead, his own tears still falling silently.
“There was nothing you could have done,” her father said quietly, though her mother overhead regardless.
“YOU!” Her mother screamed with such viciousness that Sefina flinched. “How could you let this happen?!” Her mother keened. “How could you let him die?” She ran at her daughter, prying her away from her father’s arms. “You did NOTHING to save him,” her mother shook her violently. Her father pleaded with Sefina’s mother to stop, though she could not be reasoned with in her grief. She continued to berate her daughter, pushing Sefina to the breaking point. “It is your fault he is dead,” her mother whispered quietly when her sobs overtook her again. Sefina stood motionless, not quite comprehending anything. It is your fault he is dead; the truth of those words rang painfully in her mind. Her father pulled her mother away, wrapping his arms around her to guide her shaking form back to the house. He spared a glance over his shoulder to beckon Sefina to come inside. She waited a moment longer, staring out at the water again.
- * * *
Sefina sat down, still unused to not setting up the fourth spot at the dinner table. It had been weeks since the incident and Sefina could hardly bear to look at her mother, lest she give her that look of complete animosity again. Her parents joined her a moment later, though there was no conversation to be had. The only noise was the loud whistling of the wind and the patters of rain on their uninsulated roof. The candles on the table gave the room an unsettling light that flickered back and forth. Any day in which the sun was not shining, Sefina would picture her brother using his last bit of strength before the water took him completely.
“Clean it up,” her mother said quietly without even having touched her plate. Her mother was thinking about Aleki as well, Sefina thought. She would never cut dinner this short otherwise. Sefina glanced at her father for a second as he frowned at her mother but did not argue against her decision. Without a word of disagreement, Sefina stood and took the plates to the kitchen. It hardly took any time to put the foods in containers, but her father had already gone back to his room by the time she was done. She was alone with her mother again.
It was agonizing to stand around her mother for too long, even on a good day. But as the darkness of the storm crept upon their land, Sefina knew today was not one of those days. Her mother was helping bring silverware into the kitchen, but Sefina heard her pause at the doorway. She turned to find her mother standing with her head bowed, a chain Aleki often wore gripped tightly in one hand. In her other, she held a steak knife with such pressure that her knuckles turned white.
“How?” Her mother said in a nearly inaudible tone, “how could you let him die?”
And that is when Sefina began screaming.
Olivia Alencar is a freshmen at NMMI. She recently fell in love with literature, and read 100 books in 2021.