Salomesii

• Tenika Vakauta, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2010

The sweet, delicate cries of feeble lorikeets pervade my mind. Shrewd little creatures, lorikeets. They flit about the Courtyard, wandering aimlessly through the gardens - conversing with one another while chirping secrets by the fountain shade. Each seemingly aware of the other’s place in the cycle; the cycle of all things. Here they live together amidst nature’s beauty. There are no outcasts, no loners. They eat, survive and stay together; “strength in numbers” Aristotle would say.
I could be a lorikeet. Perhaps, a dew laced flower standing tall and steadfast. With a Sinatra-suave grin, I would nod like a gentleman as the lorikeets came to feast on my nutrience. Relishing my place in the scheme of things – the accepted replaces the rejected.
As I widen my gaze, wet beads create a silicon layer across my eyes, blurring my sight. Rich burgundy, deep verdant and luminous canary. A gleaming spectrum of assorted colours seeps through, searing my retinas. Diverse, yet united: Australia’s “supposed” catchphrase.
My naivety had almost killed me.
I am outside. The cool, summer air surrounds me – as if to massage my heated skin with invisible tendrils of wind. I am rigid. As I sit, my shaken knees are bound tight to my chest. And my chest, bound tight to itself. Through the pain, I can still hear their gentle beaks nestle softly against grungy moist bark. Ad hoc. Dictionary definition: my life.
Yet, the floral stained birds sing, as if to comfort me a while.

He looks peaceful, I thought while focusing on his small, withdrawn face. I stood in silence - my velvet hands collecting dormant mites against the window ledge.
Salomesii. The outcast, wanderer.
While he sat, amidst the chatter and music of the birds, he’d never looked so lifeless. His tanned skin reflected the vibrant rays of sunlight, while his eyes remained solemn – sunken deep in darkened sockets. I had watched him over the past months as a bystander, a faceless shadow. The others didn’t like him. His bronzed skin and foreign tongue threatened them. As their cackles and sniggers spewed from their mouths like toxic fluid, his face remained unmoved. He was a circular block, his edges jutting against a square cut - unable to fit or belong.
My mind was saturated with indecision as I walked towards him.
“Salomesii?” I mumbled.
His gaze wandered, slowly finding me. I looked deep, following the russet granules gently shaking in his eyes. My stomach lurched. Unexpectedly he caught my arm. Looking down, I noticed his hand. A split – ragged and undefined separating the top and bottom of his hand. The top was tan and dark; the bottom, creamy and pallid. Fingering the divide, I thought of us. Separated through difference –but connected nonetheless. Two sides of the same coin – humanity.
We sat for hours, listening to the birds as they sang to the rhythmic patterns of the earth. Just as they had accepted us into their world – we had accepted each other into our own.