Chapter 3: The Blue Garden

Chapter 3 — The blue garden

Marisol stayed in the hammock long after the house had gone quiet, wrapped in its woven threads as if it could hold the pieces of her together, the night settling gently around her while the last echoes of her parents’ voices faded into something distant and unimportant.

Salado rested on her chest, warm and purring. That calmed her, even if his sandy paws made the hammock itchy. One of her hands layed absentmindedly on his back, moving slowly through his fur, while her eyes remained fixed on the garden beyond the columns.

Her mom called out to her from her bedroom.

“Marisol, don’t forget to water the plants, you forgot to yesterday”

She wasn’t enthusiastic about most errands and tried to scape them using magic, but she wasnt very good at it yet. This errand however, she did whole heartely, since this had been her grandparents common love, the one thing they did together without magic. She loved to do it barefoot and to feel the wet grass between her toes. To breathe the smell of earth that sometimes was too strong and made her caugh, but was still pleasent.

She walked through the path of the garden wich led to the back wall where the hose was connected, watered the plants for a few minutes as she played with the water preasure and tried to scare Sal by splashing water on the colum, but he wasnt on the hammock anymore. When she was done, she draged the hose back through the path and rolled it back into the wall mount. Dried her feet with a beach towel hanging by the hammock and laid back down.

Salado came out of the library and she called him to come. That was new, she had never seen him go in the library before. He came to the hammock and jumped to it, dropping something that sounded like a marbel against the polished concrete floor. Marisol heard it right away and picked it up. A dark blue pearl attached to a thin, brown string. That part wasn’t new, Sal always brought her “gifts” from his adventures, ever since he grew big enough to jump the fence. Sometimes he brough her a bottle cap, sometimes a dead lizard. This was an actual gift she though, hopefully he didn’t take it from a tourist though. She looked at it in the moon light for a while and then put it on around her neck without saying anything.

It’s was a beautiful night.

The palm trees shifted as if dancing in the breeze, brushing against each other in quiet rhythms, and the mangos which were in season, many of them picked by birds, where left behind to rot in the sun all day, but graced them with that scent that lingered in the air, sweet and heavy, mixing with the salt that always found its way in from the sea. Small points of light flickered between the bushes, a couple fireflies, moving lazily, blinking in and out, as if the garden itself was breathing.

Her thoughts drifted back to the ocean, to the moment the light had risen from La Azulita, to the way it had broken apart and fallen like something from an action movie. A mixture between a firework and an atomic bomb. Beutiful and horrific.The memory didn’t sit right inside her. It pressed against her mind as if she carried the weight of the island inside her skull. That and her newly met responsibility with the school was a lot for her neck to carry alone that night. She shifted slightly in the hammock, the fibers tightening around her as it swayed.

Then she heard something. Boom… A distant, echoing explotion.

“What was that?” she murmured, more to herself than to Salado.

He didn’t move, but his ear flicked once, as if he had heard something also.

She felt the rush of fear flood her again, the axious anticipation of something she couldnt even proof to herself. It felt as if she had drank a dozed cups of coffee, her body trembeling in an electric rhythem. Her gaze narrowed again, drifting across the garden, following the narrow path that slipped between the bushes that led to the back wall and the hose. During the day, it was just a simple path, one she had walked a thousand times without thinking, she walked though it just now to water the plants. But as the night grew darker, the shadows gathered and the light faded, it always felt like it led somewhere deeper.

She narrowed her eyes slightly.

For a moment, she thought she saw something move—but when she focused, there was nothing there, only leaves and shadows shifting together.

She almost looked away. Then a thin streak of light slipped across the garden. It was quick. Quiet. Easy to miss. But she saw it. Her breath caught. Then she saw the fire ball deep in path of the garden.

She felt a bucket of ice water poored on her head. Every part of her suddenly awake. For a moment, she didn’t move. She just stared, her heart beginning to beat faster. She had felt this before on the boat.

Slowly, she pushed herself up in the hammock, careful not to disturb Salado—but he was already awake, his head lifting slightly, his eyes fixed on the same place in the garden.

“Sal…?” she said softly.

His body tensed. Then, without warning, he jumped down.

Marisol blinked, caught off guard. “Hey”

But he ran straight into the garden.

Her heart dropped. “Sal!”

She swung her legs out of the hammock, her bare feet hitting the cool floor as she stood, a sudden rush of unease flooding her chest.

“Salado!”

Fear snapped into place instantly, sharp and clear. Not for herself, for him. She stepped forward without thinking, then again, faster this time, pushing past the columns and into the garden, the soft earth shifting under her feet as the air around her seemed to thicken. The path lay ahead but it didn’t feel the same anymore. The shadows were deeper. The plants… closer. Alive in a way they hadn’t been before.

She ran, hoping to meet the end of the garden, the wall and the hose…

But she didnt find it.

Instead the path alongated. The bushes grew thicker and greener.

It all started to look like a dream.

Her pase slowed as her fear rose. She walked through the path until she found an opening. The palm trees were taller there, there were other flowers she hadnt seen before and the sky was different. It was like in her old school astronomy books, the stars seemed closer, the constellations brighter and you could even see the purple and green galaxies, millions of years away. In the horizon a beach. The moon shining through the perfect tunnels of the waves.

She knew were she was, she felt it immediately. It was hers… her blue island.

And yet everything about it felt different, as if a colorful piece of fabric had been laid over the reality she knew. The sand was softer beneath her feet and the breeze carried something new, something that almost sounded like a melody, along with a scent of coconut, warm and sweet, like a memory she couldn’t place. It did feel like a dream, but at the same time, it felt more real than anything she had ever experienced, as if this version of the island existed closer to the truth than the one she knew before.

Nearby, a pool of fresh water glowed with a soft blue light, shifting gently like a living constellation. Golden fish moved lazily through it, and smaller pink ones flickered between them, their scales catching the light as if they were made of it. Little glowing octopus and other crawling creatures of colors she hadn't seen before coexisted in the pool. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Marisol stepped back quickly, her breath catching as she moved backward without turning, until her back met the rough trunk of a palm tree. She leaned against it, trying to steady herself, trying to understand what she was seeing, but the feeling of wrongness and wonder tangled together in her chest. Something moved above her, and when she looked up, she saw a small blue creature. Something like a lobster, crawling slowly down the trunk toward her. For a moment, their eyes met, and Marisol let out a small scream before she could stop herself. The creature froze, its eyes widening as if startled too, but it made no sound; it simply watched her for a moment, then continued its slow descent and slipped quietly into the glowing pool.

Marisol swallowed, her heart still racing. She remembered everything her mother had once told her about magical creatures, how fascinated she had been as a child, completely absorbed in stories and possibilities, convinced that one day she would see them for herself. But she had outgrown that belief, or at least she thought she had, because she had never actually seen any—not like this, not in a way that felt so immediate and undeniable.

Not even Sal.

Sal.

Her chest tightened.

She began walking quickly, scanning the island, her eyes moving from tree to shoreline, from shadow to light. “Sal…” she whispered, her voice barely steady.

A witch’s black cat could communicate with their witch almost like two people having a conversation, but only when it mattered. When a witch was young, the bond was quieter, more restrained; the cat did not speak often, only when something was truly important. Sal himself was also young, too young for the connection. He was barely 8 months old.

She remebered the day she found him as she walked throught the bushes. She had found him near the highway, as she returned from a long bike ride. He was next to a large dumpster. He was just sitting there, as if meditating on something. He was so little and fluffy, he looked like a keychain plushy.

She searched between the trees, along the edge of the beach, whispering his name as she moved, until finally she found him sitting on a rock near the shoreline.

“Sal,” she said softly, almost afraid of being heard, “what’s going on? Are we in La Azulita… or what is this place?”

Sal looked at her, blinked once, then again—and ran.

“Sal!” she called, panic rising in her chest as she ran after him, following the curve of the island into a place she had never seen before. She was getting really upset with him and wondered why he was making her round around this place.

And then she saw it.

Where the waves broke against the rocks, a largue, beautiful horse stood. It it’s color was difficult to discribe, it looked like the colors in the rim inside an oyster or a light pink, almost white pearl. It was shinny and flickers of silver came and went like ocean waves.

Marisol froze, the same fear returning, the same stillness she had felt when she saw the island burn, as if her body no longer belonged entirely to her. Sal ran ahead and leapt onto the horse’s back, startling him for only a second before he looked back and reconized Sal, waging his tail gently. When the horse noticed Marisol, he looked surprised, but he didn’t move away; he simply watched her.

The horse began to walk torwards her until they were face to face. He sniffer the top of her head for a moment and then walked by her and stopped there. Something inside told her he wanted her to pet him, the same way Sal or Rhae, Charlotte’s dog let her know without saying a word. She exteded her shacky hand and carrased his main, slowly moving to his sholder as she gained confidence.

The silver waves made her uneasy, but fascinated her. She had never seen anything so mysterious and enigmatic as this creature. His eyes were deep black which was a strong contrast with his furr. A little braid in his main had been woven with plastic beads. Marisol gave a confused frown. They looked like the beeds the Hatian braid lady put on her at the beach when she was little . Then she felt it… There was his shoulder and something else, a fold and feathers. They were completely invisible unless she touched them. She saw light blue feathers and an incy reflection under the white light. She gave out a short, quiet gasp as if to not startle him. He looked at the ocean and kept on walking. Sal jumped off his back and sat on the sand, looking at her.

She looked at the horse as he walked away for a few minutes, letting the sounds of the waves bring her back into reality. Then she began walking back the way she had come, her heart still pounding, hoping she could find her way out, and this time Sal followed her.

As they moved through the trees, she noticed he was carrying something—the pearl necklace. She stopped. He stopped too. She hadnt realized she dropped it.

And then she heard him. Not out loud, but inside her mind.

Take it.

Her breath caught as she reached out, took the necklace from him, and placed it around her neck, tighing several knotts this time. The moment it settled against her skin, the small blue lights appeared again, gathering in front of her like fireflies, forming a soft, glowing path that seemed to wait for her through the thickening trees, through the wild, unfamiliar growth that pressed in closer and closer around her, until suddenly— she stepped forward and found herself back in her grandfather’s garden.

She walked throgh the garden and hesitated on weather to go straight to bed or take a shower. Water always calmed her. Water in every form, her first word as a baby had been water, accoding to her parents, though they dont know if she was htirsthy or wanted to swim. She let the water from the shower cool the fire in her mind. She looked at the stone walls, at the plants hanging and crowling from her shower, wich was an outdoor shower, hidden behind bushes. She looked at the night sky and it was her sky, the one she knew. And so the anxious electric feelings slowly washed away.