Wash Your Hands, Cassia Scarborough

The child sat on the blue sand beach, watching the water rise and recede, rise and recede. She looked up, her blonde hair wrapping around her cheeks as the wind ruffled it. “Riaf threw a stone at me today.”

“Again?” Her mother looked worried. The child watched Susin’s pink lips twist into a familiar frown. “You should stay away from the Elvin children.”

“Why?”

“Go wash your hands, they’re filthy.’

The child stood up and strode to the water’s edge. The wind picked up the hem of her ivory dress and tossed it higher than was proper. As her feet touched the streak of foam at the front of one small wave, she lifted her hands to her eyes and inspected them. They were smooth and white and clean. Still, she bent and ran them through the ocean to please her mother.

The child knew why Riaf had thrown rocks at her. It was for the same reason that the Gypsy children refused to dance with her at night, when the Elves lit the great bonfires in the plazas and the the strange, winged musicians played melodies on their harps. It was because she was a Human.

She trudged back up the shore to her mother. She dropped to the sand and said, “One day, I’ll pelt those Elves good, I’ll hit Riaf in the eye and leave her with a big, black circle around the spot for a week.”

“No you will not. Don’t joke about such things, Feah! Yours is the first generation of Humans to be born truly free for a very long time. It is up to you to find a place for us in this world. You won't do that by being violent, you'll must show them that we have changed.”

“Why don’t the other races like the Humans? What did we ever do?”

“Just look at your feet, they're covered in mud. Go wash them off, and scrub your hands while you’re at it.”

Feah jumped up impatiently and marched to the water. She walked out into the icy waves until she stood knee deep in blue and her dress was wet. She scoured her hands and moved her feet beneath the surface.

She couldn't understand what Riaf hated about her. As far as Feah knew, she had never done anything particularly bad. She thought it was because until recently, the Human race had lived in big, military cites underground called Courts. The Courts had been evil places, where people kept slaves and were poisoned both in their minds and bodies.

The weird thing was that there were no locks on the doors that out of the Courts, into the real world. Anyone could walk through them if they wished. Of course, not many people did. They had no reason to. They didn’t know what a sky was, or a star, or a tree or an ocean. They had never felt wind, grass underfoot, warm summer rain. Their ignorance was more secure than any lock.

They could no more escape then I can walk from here to my mother without getting my feet all dirty again, she thought, as she considered the rolling hills of deep, cerulean sand between herself and the blonde woman with the pink lips. Feah kicked her foot, nudging a fish as it darted past her. She watched the water rise and recede, rise and recede.

Feah thought about the responsibility of being first. First to know the feeling of warm rain and grass and sunlight. Her mother had given birth to seven children before she left the Courts. However, when the time came to escape, none of Susin's children were willing to leave with her. So it was only Feah, a baby too young to protest , who accompanied her mother into freedom.

Sometimes, Feah dreamed that she was in her mother's arms, watching as they ascended the long staircase which led to freedom. She imagined that there was a door made of black glass, paper thin, hinges rusty from lack of use. She could almost see her mother reach out, tentatively, and touch it, then push against it until suddenly it shattered and sunlight cascaded onto them for the first time in their lives. But it was only dreams, Feah knew she was too young at the time to remember such things.

Feah turned and sloshed back to her mother.

“Momma,” She said.

Susin looked at her daughter inquisitively.

“Why don’t the other races like us?”

There was a long pause. Susin looked out across the blue beach, where it melded with the blue water and the blue horizon. “We lived as if we were the only people who existed. We closed ourselves off from the world. We took the children of the other races and used them as slaves. Whole generations of Elves and Gypsies were killed in the Courts. It is very hard for the others to forgive us.”

Susin stood up. “The most we can do now is live. You are not alone anymore, Feah. You may feel like you are sometimes, but the truth is that you live in a world full of diverse peoples and cultures. The most we can do now, is to realize that we are not alone, and can no longer live as if we are.”

The child sat on the blue sand beach, watching the water rise and recede, rise and recede. She stood up and ran to the water, bent, and scrubbed her smooth, clean hands.