Chapter Text
When Komo Gabara was only four years old, his father had drowned in the ocean.
Until that day, the boy had lived a humble, peaceful life in the seaside town of Sandcreston, with his mother Naomi, and his father Ken, who provided for the family as a fisherman.
Unfortunately for the Gabaras, an unexpected storm had wracked the seas one day, and Ken’s boat was completely wrecked by the powerful roiling waves. Not having brought a life-jacket, Ken Gabara did not safely make it back to land.
Komo was still quite young when his father had passed away, and so could not easily recall the specific details of the day of Ken’s funeral, or when the townspeople came by to offer their condolences to the distraught, recently-widowed Naomi.
As the years went by, Komo came to realize that his father was nowhere to be found, and he thought it quite odd that many boys and girls he knew had fathers of their own. Whenever he asked his mother about where he was, she always gave the same reply, no matter how often her son asked.
“Your father has returned to the sea.” Naomi could not bring herself to trouble her son with the harsh truth, so that was all she could ever say in response to the question.
Initially, Komo was unsure what exactly his mother meant by that, but eventually concluded that someplace in the vast blue ocean, his father was there. Such an assumption was technically not incorrect, but the naïve and hopeful boy was under the impression that Ken Gabara was still alive, though residing someplace deep underwater.
A few weeks after he had turned eight years old, Komo made a personal vow to begin searching for his father in the ocean, hoping to meet him again. He headed to the beach one afternoon and walked into the shore until he was waist-deep in seawater, the waves pushing against his body.
No sign of father yet, he thought to himself, and decided to trek further.
As he did so, the salty water started making its way up his body, until it came up to his eyes. At this point, Komo realized something was amiss; underwater, there was no air to breathe, and he did not at all enjoy the sensation of being unable to breathe.
“Help! Help!” As determined as Komo was to accomplish his personal mission, he had not quite mastered the art of swimming. He thrashed about in the water in a frenzy, until he was pulled back to the safety of dry land.
“Komo! What were you doing in there?!” Naomi had spotted her son flailing in the sea in the nick of time, and had dragged him back to the shore.
The purple-haired boy replied once he was able to catch his breath and cease coughing. “I wanted to go out and search for Dad in the sea!”
Naomi scowled, puzzled. “What are you talking about?!”
“I thought you said he returned to the sea!” Komo explained.
Silently, the woman cursed herself for creating such a foolish lie. “Don’t you know how dangerous the sea is when you can’t swim?” she warned her son.
Komo responded with a blank stare.
“I want you to promise me you won’t try going into the sea again until you learn how to swim,” continued his mother.
“When will I learn how?” Komo asked.
“I will help you learn how, when you are eleven years old. That’s my promise to you,” declared Naomi.
And with that, Komo reluctantly left his ambitions to rest until the day of his eleventh birthday.
With a silent apology to his father, Komo began his long wait.
%%%
Ever since that day, Naomi began to have certain nightmares in her sleep. They did not occur every night, but when they did, they invariably involved Komo and Ken, the two most important people in her life. Whatever happened in these dreams, they always ended with the two Gabara men drowning in the sea, their screams ringing hauntingly as she was forced to see them sinking into the dark depths, never to return.
These recurring elements in her dreams began to worry the woman. What if this was some kind of sign, or premonition of things to come? Would Komo not be safe until he was taken as far from the ocean as possible?
Eventually, Naomi realized she needed to make some plans of her own.
Some days after Komo’s ninth birthday, an entry-level position had opened up in one of the local restaurants, which Naomi had applied for as soon as she had heard. Once it was confirmed that the position was hers, she was understandably overjoyed.
“That’s so great, Mom!” Komo gave his mother a congratulatory hug, tight and binding.
Naomi smiled. “Thank you, my son. But don’t forget, I have to work for most of the day, so you’ll have to walk to school and home on your own, okay?”
“No problem!” Komo enthused. “I’m nine now, I’m not a little kid anymore!”
“And remember what I told you about the sea!” continued the woman.
“Not until I turn eleven…” the boy recited, as though he was repeating it for the thousandth time. Still, Komo kept patience in his heart. Surely two more years would not be too long to wait?
%%%
Naomi worked for many hours each day in the restaurant, cleaning tables, taking customer orders, and bringing the food to the hungry patrons who would come in; some among them regulars who enjoyed the food and atmosphere of the place, others simply tourists drawn to the uniqueness of the seaside town.
For six days of the week she worked, and did not come home until the evening, where Komo would be waiting for her… or more likely, waiting for her to get dinner started.
For the boy, there was at least some silver lining to this new way of life however. On most occasions, Naomi was allowed to bring back something from the restaurant for their dinner – fried fish and noodles made Komo quite happy and well-fed.
The boy also found that he enjoyed the independence of going to and from school; as long as he was on time where he needed to be, he could take whatever route he pleased, and even hang out at his friends’ houses, provided he was home before his mother.
This arrangement carried on for a little under two years more – until a week before Komo’s eleventh birthday.
The day began without any obvious changes from the ordinary; school had ended, and Komo was walking with his two best friends, Eddy Banks and Maria Springston.
“Hey Komo, let’s study for that spelling test at my place!” Eddy suggested.
“Sounds good,” Komo affirmed. “How about it, Maria? You wanna join us?”
But the red-haired girl shook her head. “Sorry, guys, I have a piano lesson today. Maybe next time, okay?”
“That’s cool,” said Eddy. “Guess we’ll see you tomorrow then!”
The three friends said their goodbyes as they parted ways, leaving just Komo and Eddy walking together.
“Psst, Komo, can you keep a secret?” whispered Eddy, as they walked.
“Depends on the secret,” Komo replied with a sly grin.
“Well…” Eddy began, but didn’t continue.
Komo prompted, “Well?” to which Eddy mumbled something far too quickly for anyone to understand.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” teased the purple-haired boy.
Eddy relented. “I said, I think I have a crush on Maria!”
Komo couldn’t suppress his laughter. “Is that supposed to be a secret?”
Rolling his eyes, Eddy continued, “Oh yeah? Your turn now, who’s your crush?”
Komo didn’t have to think long to give his blue-haired friend an answer. “Sean.”
“Sean? Sean Watterson?” Eddy was surprised. “His ears kind of stick out, if you ask me. And, well, if you didn’t know… he’s a boy.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Komo had never understood why, but when it came to crushes, he seemed to pay more attention to boys over girls. Was that odd? He didn’t know for sure, but he had never mentioned it to anyone else before.
Eddy just shrugged. “Boys are supposed have crushes on girls. You sure you’re not really a girl?”
Chuckling, Komo replied, “Pretty sure,” while tugging down on the front of his shorts, giving his friend an eyeful of proof of his gender.
“Hey, put that away!” Eddy exclaimed, more amused than offended. Once Komo did so, the blue-haired boy continued. “Well, you’re keeping my secret, so I’ll keep yours! Okay?”
Komo nodded, “Okay!”
The boys continued talking until they made it to Eddy’s house, where they studied for the spelling test as they had planned, followed by snacks and watching TV.
Eventually, the clock on the wall indicated to Komo that his mother would be returning from the restaurant in but a few hours. With a friendly farewell, he left Eddy’s house to make his way back to his own.
However, when Komo arrived to his home, something was different.
Stationed at the driveway was a car that he had never seen before. It did not belong to Komo’s mother; nor anyone from the town that Komo knew of. Next to this unfamiliar vehicle was his mother, talking with an unfamiliar man in a gray suit.
“Mom?” Komo tried to draw Naomi’s attention. “Who’s that?”
Upon seeing the boy, the suit-wearing man stopped speaking and turned to regard him with a dull expression. “Excuse me, little boy, but you should not interrupt adults when they are busy.”
Naomi promptly defended her son. “I’m sorry, Percival, but I should have mentioned that I have a son. Komo, this is Percival. Shake hands with him.”
Komo hesitated, but he didn’t want to upset his mother; he extended his arm, offering his open hand to Percival, who clenched his own larger hand tight around the boy’s, which he found a little painful.
After withdrawing his arm, Percival returned to his conversation with Naomi.
“It’s very important that you tell me about these things beforehand, you know. But I suppose it’s not a major concern, we have some homes in the Ortoga area which should accommodate children… even ones that are particularly rowdy and unkempt.”
“Ortoga?” Komo asked. He had never heard of such a place.
Instead of a proper answer, Percival gave him an indignant stare. “It’s rude to both eavesdrop and interrupt, boy.” Komo was starting to like this man less and less with every word he spoke.
“Don’t worry about it,” Naomi reassured the boy. “Ortoga is just the name of the place we are moving to.”
“Moving?!” Komo exclaimed, astonished. “Why are we moving?”
But Naomi just shook her head. “We can’t stay in Sandcreston for much longer, Komo. It’s complicated, and you’ll understand when you are older.”
Naomi had never told Komo about the nightmares she had experienced since the day he had almost drowned when he was eight, but she took it as a sign that something terrible would eventually happen to him. The restaurant’s job vacancy was her opportunity to accrue a steady income that would, in good time, allow her to buy a new home in a place much further from the sea. Unexpectedly, but to Naomi’s benefit, she had one day met a customer by the name of Percival Thistles, whom Naomi found interesting due to his job as a real estate salesman – not to mention the generous tip he had provided her for her services.
After Naomi had finished her hours for the day, she was surprised to see that Percival was still sitting in his seat, despite having finished his meal, and as she had thought, he had been waiting for her. Even during their brief encounter, they had formed a good rapport; Naomi was looking for a new home, Percival was always interested in making sales. They continued talking, and it was not difficult at all for the salesman to convince her to visit Ortoga to browse through the open homes on sale.
In part due to Percival’s persuasion, she was confident in finding a home that would meet her needs and fit her budget, so she went home early to pack her boxes with the small amount of possessions she and Komo had.
“But I don’t want to move!” Komo protested. “I’ll miss my school and my friends, and the sea, and… and…”
The boy’s voice trailed off as tears started to well up in his eyes.
Naomi gave her son a comforting pat on the head. “Don’t cry, my son. Percival said Ortoga is a big city, I’m sure there will be plenty for you to do there, and plenty of new friends to make. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
Percival added, “Don’t be selfish, boy. Your mother is doing this to help you. Can’t you see that?”
Komo dried his eyes. He knew in his heart that Sandcreston was his one true home, but apparently Naomi did not share the sentiment. His mother had always done right by him before, so was moving to Ortoga really in their best interests? He didn’t know, but at this point, dissuading her would prove futile; most of their boxes were packed already, so it was too late to turn back.
At the back seat of Naomi’s old car, Komo kept his gaze fixed to the side window as they drove off, following Percival’s newer and much shinier car to the unfamiliar city of Ortoga. The boy took one last look at their former home as it drew further and further from his view – it may have been a small shack of a house, but it was their house, where they made their earliest memories.
The cars continued along the roads, winding across unfamiliar paths and bringing unfamiliar sights. Komo had attempted to memorize the path they were taking, in some hope that he could make it back to Sandcreston by foot, but exhaustion soon took hold, and he drifted off into sleep, somewhere near the halfway point between Sandcreston and Ortoga.
%%%
The first night in Ortoga proved short and uneventful; to afford the Gabara family respite until the morning, Percival had allowed them to stay at his house.
Living alone, the man had no spare bed to offer his guests, leaving Naomi to sleep upon a sofa in the lounge room, while Komo was left with the carpeted floor.
Even after having already slept during the car ride, Komo was quick to fall again into dream-less slumber.
During breakfast the next morning, Komo ate his toast as quickly as he could, taking big bites without chewing thoroughly, before excusing himself from the table. Naomi would have been suspicious of her son’s mood, had she not been distracted by Percival; naturally, they were busy talking about the arrangements for her new home, but within minutes the conversation dissolved into more casual talk of other subjects.
Komo was sitting outside, on the front steps, taking a look at the neighborhood surrounding him. He could see only houses, lawns, fences, and trees… no sand nor water to be found at all. It was starting to sink in that he would never see the ocean again, or feel the wet sand beneath his feet, or even smell the salty breeze that lingered about the beach, and his eyes started to water again.
“…Komo! There you are!”
The boy hadn’t even heard the front door open, but he swiveled his head to see his mother standing there, and he hastily wiped his eyes.
“Remember,” Naomi proceeded to explain, “we need to find a house first, then we have to get you registered for your new school.”
Komo hadn’t even thought about what awaited him at school. Maybe it would be like Sandcreston’s school, he thought, and he would make new friends there. Making friends with Eddy and Maria had not been difficult for him, after all.
Things seemed to proceed rather quickly for the next few days, once Naomi had settled into the new home she had chosen; to Percival’s pleasant surprise, she had decided to live in the house directly across the road from his, and once she made the down payment and had the subsequent mortgage loan arranged, the Gabara family wasted no time in laying down their roots upon the new turf, unpacking all the boxes they had brought with them.
Once they had fully unpacked and settled in, Naomi decided that a special dinner to celebrate their first night in their new house was called for.
“Komo, dinner time!” called Naomi from the kitchen.
At the call of his name, the boy emerged from his new bedroom to sit at the table, much bigger and fancier than the one in their old home. He had just sat down and grabbed his fork and knife, when he noticed that the table was set for three, not two.
Komo’s expression dimmed. He knew exactly who would be filling that extra place. Had the food already been on his plate, he would have eaten as fast as possible to excuse himself from the kitchen, able to safely seclude himself in his bedroom.
But as Naomi told him, “the stew’s still too hot, wait for it to cool down.”
By the time it was ready to serve, it was already too late for Komo. The doorbell chimed, and Naomi called for her son to open the door for their guest. Reluctantly, he made his way to the front door and turned the knob.
Just as he had suspected, Percival was here to intrude upon his life yet again.
“Aren’t you going to offer to take my coat?” he snapped, before Komo could do much of anything. “Your mother must have taught you better than that.”
The boy clenched his teeth, restraining himself from verbally retaliating, and held out his arms as Percival removed the tweed coat he was wearing, and practically tossed it at Komo’s face. Once Komo left the coat to hang on the rack, he returned to the kitchen table, his plate now filled with a fresh serving of beef and chicken stew with rice. Silently, he sat down to eat, unconcerned with whatever his mother was talking about with that man who would not stop getting on his nerves.
“…Oh yes,” Naomi went on, her plate of food almost untouched, “I contacted the principal, and she says Komo can start class on Tuesday! It’s only a ten-minute drive from here to the school, so it won’t be any trouble for me to take him there.”
Percival nodded. “Splendid. Ortoga Elementary is one of the finest schools in the country. Perhaps they may make something out of your son yet.”
At the mention of his name, Komo discreetly listened in. Tuesday was also the day he turned eleven. He thought back to the promise his mother made from a few years ago, to help him learn how to swim.
It seemed all but impossible that she would honor that promise now; in Ortoga, the sea was nowhere to be seen, and there were no pools or lakes nearby either.
He quickly finished the last of his stew and rice, and waited for the adults to finish talking.
“Can I be excused?” he asked.
“May you be excused, you mean?” Percival corrected, which annoyed Komo. He wanted to tell the man to shut up, but his mother was still in their company.
“May I?” he asked again, to which Naomi nodded.
Komo then left the table and went into his bedroom, and flopped over on his new bed.
Despite how unfamiliar the mattress felt, and smelt, Komo was able to find sleep before long.
With all the recent changes in his life, Komo saw a newfound peace in sleep, and dreams.
Dreams where the ocean was never far, he knew perfectly well how to swim, and his hope of a complete family could be realized.