The Witch's Daughter

Part Fifteen

Emmanuel was bored of house-sitting. Or was he scared? It turned his stomach, sitting in a chair his mother sat in, cooking on the stove she used, examining the crystals she treasured. But not for the reasons it did before....

My mother is a strong woman, who has suffered too much.

He bit his lip. He knew he couldn't move on unless truly apologized. The process of forgiveness settled in, but the guilt began to gnaw at his insides like maggots. He was mean, violent, and petty. He was someone he didn't recognize. He couldn't even look in the mirror these days without cringing. That first day, when he struck his mother-- he was no longer a hurt little boy, but a raging man who left every breathing with bruises. Papa! That's who I've become! he thought, shaking his head, My God! Now that I know that...I just want to...!
He opened the door and walked out into the village. A festival was taking place, a big one with a wide table piled high with steaming dishes-- brown rice, grilled fruits, and a whole pig. Children laughed and chased each other. Men grilled as women poured drinks and set up stone plates. Dancers in traditional long-grass skirts twirled to a thunder of drums and guitars. Emmanuel smiled. Everyone was here-- from tiny yawning babies to wrinkled old grandparents. Even the old, big-bellied Chief was there, wearing a thick straw skirt and golden feathered headdress. The island people were all tall and sturdily built, looking as if they could survive a hundred storms if they had to. A family reunion? he wondered, Then I better not intrude....

"Hello, sir," a woman said.

Emmanuel looked up. It was the same plump, dark woman who "adopted" the dragon egg. Her black wavy hair tumbled down her shoulders, and her full lips spread into a warm smile. She carried the same duck-sized golden egg in her arms as if it were her own child.

"Hello," he replied, then without thinking, "I-I've seen you around a lot. What's your name?"

"Sansan," the woman murmured, smoothing the egg with one hand, "And your is...I've heard it...Emmanuel?"

"Y-Yes, that's right."

She smiled again and shook his hand.

"I'm glad you could come. Today is a Family Feast Day."

"F-Family...?" he asked, dabbing his forehead. "My family's uh, gone, looking for something in a cave."

Sansan nodded.

"We're well-aware the old witch Mama has gone. She's your mother, right?"

"Right."

"And I-- we've --gathered you've been angry at her. In a way, your anger is justified."

"But how? I feel so disgusted by the way I've treated her."

"I realize that, Emmanuel, but you can't live in guilt. If you're going to forgive her, you might as well forgive yourself."

She set the egg down. It wriggled until a long, jagged crrrrack split it in half. Emmanuel jumped.

"Wow!" he gasped, "Doesn't that scare you?"

"Not really. I'm a surrogate dragon-mother, if that makes sense. I care for the abandoned eggs of dragons."

"Wow."

"This little one hasn't even been born," Sansan explained, "And he already needs a fresh start. A chance to learn and grow from the darkness. I know it sounds strange and corny, but we can learn a lot from them."