The Edge of the World

They had started to sea before the sun had even kissed the sky, now the sky grows dark, and the sea grows still. Everett arose listlessly, watching as the clouds touched the vast waters in the distance. As the waves smashed against the side of their vessel, Everett began pulling in the fishing net from the depths of the glorious ocean. Maliki could not resist overhanging the edge, waiting to see the net. Vigilantly watching, awaiting splashes as the net pulled to the surface, he stepped back to give Everett room. “Nothing,” said Everett, as he dropped the wisp of soggy rope on the deck. Maliki began to cast the sails, pull in the anchor, and set course for home.
Everett lay on the bow of the small fishing boat, “Thank you for another safe journey.” Maliki never knew who Everett was speaking to when he muttered this at the end of their voyages. Home never seems that far away, until home is nothing more than a glow on a shoreline miles away. Tonight, the shoreline was dull. The two had been out at sea for hours on this day, blissfully content with drifting away. As they got closer to the beach, the village was quiet, not a soul on shore that the eye could see. Maliki dropped the sails and made his way to the front of the boat. In the blackness of the night, it was hard to see, but Maliki trusted himself to know where to place his footing. He knew where everything was on the boat and everything about the boat itself. Maliki had been raised in the ocean, and to him, it was a caring companion. Unlike the jungle, unforgiving and harsh to the men and women who have traveled through its great paths. Maliki could see a faint glimmer on the beach, a torch someone had abandoned on the waterline, still flickering in the darkness, even from a distance. The glow was warm and bright. As they approached, Maliki burst into tears and turned to Everett, “Everyone’s dead on the beach, father.”
Everett jumped out of the boat and ran the short stretch to the beach, lying lifeless where the bodies of their neighbors, their family, and the people of the village. Now, Maliki could see the torch in the hand of a man, face down in the sand, blood drenched and alone. Everett could now hear screaming coming from the center of the village. “Stay on the boat!” Everett exclaimed to Maliki as he ran to the man who lay face down, holding the glowing torch. He lifted the man’s head, uncovering the face of Everett’s brother, Cato, who had fled from the village where hysteria and uproar continued in the village. Cato, with the last of his strength, delivered a warning to his brother, “Everett, they have come to abolish our village. We tried to fight, but there are too many, you must leave now!” As Cato delivered his final message, Everett could hear the screams of chaos rampaging down from the jungle to where the individuals lay who had tried to evade the hysteria. Everett knew it was now time to leave home. With no hesitation, Everett began towards Maliki and the boat just as the line of torches became visible in the distance. Cries of war could be heard coming towards the pair on the beach. Everett approached the boat, waist deep in the ocean, and began to turn the vessel. Maliki loosened the sails and gave a hand down to his father, who was still in the ocean. “Father, we must leave, hurry!” The path of the torches grew closer, and the sounds of mania approached. “I cannot go with you, Maliki. I will stay and protect our home.” Maliki’s eyes began to flood with tears. “I will stay with you; I will protect our home!” Everett, without another word, pushed with great force to move the watercraft further out to sea, along with Maliki. Maliki’s soft cries could be heard as Everett began towards the beach. “Keep him safe,” Everett whispered to the sea as his son drifted further into the darkness. Maliki watched his father drop out of sight as he floated away. Everett trusted the ocean with his life, with the life of his son. Maliki closed his tear-filled eyes, swaying side to side with the waves as they carefully carried him far away from the havoc of what used to be his home. Hours later, still adrift, Maliki began to open his eyes, burning from the saltwater spray that had been misted into his face all night. He sluggishly lifted his head, still heavy with slumber, as the radiant glow in the distance peaked. Maliki spoke softly to himself, “It looks like the edge of the world.”