Fisherman of the Skies “Dawn”

It was the perfect day for a fishing trip.

As Luan Kahele grew closer to the shoreline, he grinned at the sight of the ocean’s gentle waves, heard the seagulls cry as they took off over the vast blue expanse. The sky was a kaleidoscope of sapphires, spilling warm sunlight onto the awakening village. The air was fresh, mingling with the familiar scent of the ocean.

Luan inhaled deeply, taking in the wonderous feeling of this place he called home.

Luan raced through the last stretch of the village, coming to a stop at the village dock. A tall man who was the spitting image of Luan stood alone there at the end of the docks, looking out towards the vast blue sea before turning around, leaning casually against a wooden post.

“There’s my little star.”

“There you are,” Luan’s mother began as they walked into the house. “Where have you two been all evening? It’s dinner time!” Though her eyes were usually warm and welcoming, she looked firmly at her husband now with fierce eyes.

His father laughed, “I’ve been teaching our star here how to catch fish.”

She hesitated and looked back and forth from her husband to her son in deep concern.

“I’ve already prepared the boat for tomorrow in front of the docks.”

Luan’s parents spoke of their trip amongst themselves as he ate his dinner, listening intently.

“What time are you guys going?” Luan eventually broke in. “We’re leaving right when the sun comes up, so don’t forget to wake up early so we can take you to Ms. Kekoa,” Leia told her son.

Luan slumped in his seat, frowning. After a moment, he found the courage to speak up. “Mama, can I please go with you guys this time?” Luan’s confidence rose as he spoke. “I’ve been practicing fishing a lot lately! I know I’m getting better. Ask Papa!”

“No, my star,” Leia said, a hint of impatience in her tone.

“Papa! Tell her! My form is getting better, and it’s becoming easier for me! I can help you guys tomorrow, please bring me with you! I can grab my own gear and you can teach me more.”

“Luan, no more. I said you can’t come,” Leia said, a little less subtle this time.

“Please! I want to learn more so I can become better! This is what I want to be Mama, please understand! This is who I am!”

“Enough Luan!” Leia snapped at him, “No! This is not who you are! This is not what you’ll become! You’re not going to fail. Not this time,” she choked out.

Luan stared at his mother through a whirlwind of confusion and shock.

Leia looked away from him as she swiped at the hot tears streaming down her cheeks. “That is why I’m telling you,” she hesitated as if already regretting what she was about to say. “I don’t want you fishing anymore.”

Luan’s puzzled expression darkened as he processed what she had said.

“Y-you can’t do that,” he replied slowly, “you can’t stop me from doing what makes me happy! Just so I could fulfill your dream?!” Luan ran to his room, trying in vain to suppress his own angry tears.

Kalawai`a stood up to comfort his wife. “I’ll talk to him,” he offered.

He quietly made his way to Luan’s room, reaching hesitantly for the door knob. Cautiously, he stepped inside and turned his gaze to the ceiling, where every inch was covered with stickers of constellations and stars. But when he looked over to the corner of the room, he saw his favorite and most valued star of all. He strode over to it and sat down to admire the thing so precious to him.

“Luan,” he began as he pulled him close, “did you know that wherever you find a moon, you can find a single star very close to it?”

Luan sat still. He didn’t reply.

His father continued, “Maybe at times, when it’s too dark, you can’t see it, but it’ll always be there. No matter how consumed by darkness the star feels, the moon is always there to shine on it and stay by its side.” He sighed. “If you set your heart to it, of course you can become a great fisherman. You can become anything.” He kissed Luan’s forehead. “You just have to keep dreaming.” Kalawai ‘a began to hum quietly, the smooth and gentle rhythms transforming into beautiful lyrics.

You reach for the skies

And there, you will see

A billion stars shining so true

A billion stars that dance in the heavens

Yet not a single one, burns quite like you

In Ms. Kekoa’s house, the day had passed, long and weary. Luan cracked open an unassuming door at the end of the hallway and peeked in an empty room occupied only by a large bed consumed by thick, fluffy blankets and even fluffier pillows. Taking in the scene, he realized just how exhausted he really was. He thought of his parents, over and over until he drifted off into a deep, deep sleep.

“You’ve done it, Luan! You got accepted into the best astronomy school in the country!” His mother cried happily in his unusually large arms. Arms that he assumed were his at least.

“I did that?” He asked, skeptically. His voice was deeper. “Yes! You’ve done great, My Son,” Kalawai ‘a beamed. Luan took a step, or rather stumbled, back. He looked at them both, confused.

“Only one more thing,” Leia began, “ Luan, are you happy?”

He hesitated; felt his heart grow heavy as he tried to find the right words.”No? I mean, I-I’m not sure...” He drifted off, unsure of himself. The euphoric atmosphere he had felt moments ago shifted and twisted into an uncomfortable emotion he couldn’t quite place. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. But,” He paused again, doubt setting in. “It’s the truth.”

His parents looked at each other, then together at their son. The tension in the air was palpable. They spoke in unison when they said, “reach for the skies, My Star.”

Luan felt the pull of reality, freeing him from the depths of his subconscious.”Reach for the skies…” he echoed.

“Luan.” Ms. Kekoa shook him. “Luan, please wake up,” she said, louder this time, her voice trembling with the effort.

Luan awoke, groggy and disoriented. Looking down on his pillow, he found it was soaked with tears. He suddenly remembered where he was and looked around frantically. “Ms. Kekoa, what time is it?”

“Luan,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Your parents are late, Luan, “ she tried and failed to hide the crack in her voice. “Very late.”

“Tomorrow”

All the students had at last come in and all the chairs were filled. All except one. “Class,” Professor Henry demanded the students’ attention with his profound voice. “I hope you all had a good night’s rest, but I also hope you studied effectively. I cannot express enough how important it is that some of you did. He paused to survey the room. “However,” He continued, “If you didn’t, then you know where you’ll stand in this class. Remember, the test you will be taking will be covering all we’ve reviewed this semester. You can expect to see Heliospheric and Solar Physics, Celestial Mechanics- “ continued

He was cut off when the elaborate wooden door beside him burst open. The students turned to see a tall, lean boy rushing in with dark, ruffled hair that almost threatened to engulf his deep, hazel eyes.

“Let’s remember how seriously this is supposed to be taken,” Professor Henry continued, walking among the students’ desks, looking at them each in turn. “You’ve made it this far, now let’s see where you can go from here.” He surveyed the students once more before returning his focus to the boy. The professor paused for a moment and eyed him carefully. “May I have your name, Late One?”

The boy glanced up at Professor Henry, before sheepishly looking away, hesitant as he felt everyone’s eyes on him again. He cast his dark eyes from the walls, to the professor, then back to the walls. Reluctantly, he spoke up, still avoiding eye contact. “Kahele,” he managed. “Luan Kahele.”

After class, Luan closed the door behind his apartment and placed all his things on the living room floor. Today’s final was by far the most difficult exam he had ever taken. He was late to class this morning due to the same nightmare he’d been struggling with for four days straight. It was the same nightmare that kept Luan up late at night, so late that time seemed to bleed into morning. The same one he’d been having since he was young. Ever since the incident. He lay back on his bed and closed his eyes as he thought back to the night before.

A dark place, alone. Small ripples of water formed his surroundings. It was gentle. It was serene. The ripples echoed throughout the dark space. It was louder this time.

“Where am I?” Luan questioned, cautious. Silence.

The ripples turned to growing waves.

“What is this place?” he tried again, “and why is it so dark?” Except he received no response. Only the crashing waves that danced around him seemed to care. The growing waves twisted into violent currents.

“LUAN!” a familiar voice called to him from behind the violent waves.

Silence.

Sudden tears of anger and confusion cascaded down his face.

The sound of the waves grew louder. The currents became stronger.

“Where are you!?” He screamed at the top of his lungs.

The waves came into a sudden and complete stop. The silence that ensued was deafening. He stood up, swiping at his cheeks.

“Where am I?” He tried again. He heard footsteps, but for all his squinting, he couldn’t locate their owner. He thought for a moment. “Where are w-we?” he corrected.

The footsteps ceased abruptly. A single voice could be heard. It was familiar. Too familiar. It was His voice.

The voice echoed around the chamber menacingly. “We’re only,” it replied, “in here.” Luan didn’t even have time to process the disembodied voice’s vague description before pain like white-hot bullets ricocheted inside his head. Darkness followed.

“Failure”

“And lastly, Luan K. Kahele,” he finished.

Luan took the graded packet from Professor Henry’s outstretched hands, but he didn’t dare to look. Still afraid to look at his grade, Luan walked outside over to a bench, his exam carefully hidden against his chest. He sat under a blossoming tree, the shade casting eerie shadows on Luan’s already grim expression. Carefully, Luan turned the first page of his packet, quickly skimming through all the explanatory pages before coming to a stop at the second-to-last page. The page before his final grade. His heart dropped. Red lines like lasers pierced the page, mercilessly crisscrossing through his answers. His entire face darkened at the sight of the scribbles and markings that stained his own writing. White-hot heat flashed behind his eyes. Red paragraphs of critique and responses bled onto the page like open wounds. Desperate, Luan flipped the page over. His eyes darted to the very top of the back page.

A giant ‘57’ stained the top of his exam.

He had failed the class.

The day had been long for Luan. Moonlight replaced the colorful rays, spilling into Luan’s apartment and casting an eerie glow around him. Luan gazed out of the kitchen window, as he often did, and observed the distant moon. The Sun is a star, he remembered, The most appreciated one. It creates life, lives alongside fluffy, bright clouds, the singing birds, it’s the main source of light. But the moon? The moon is a rock. compared to the sun, it isn’t much. But it can be more. It’s something that has actually been explored. At times when it’s dark outside, it looks lonely, but no matter what, there will always be stars with the moon. They too, create light. The moon and stars have an unbreakable type of bond.

He lit a candle and he noticed the flame made the room a little less dim. He looked up and around at his surroundings. Today, he had imagined for his family to be there. Ms. Kekoa. His parents. Yet, against the wall, a single silhouette flickered alone. The tiny flame danced atop the wick of the candle, waiting to fulfill its purpose. Luan sang quietly to himself.

“Happy Birthday to you. . . “ he whispered. He stopped there. A lost memory suddenly woke up and untangled itself from Luan’s darkest ones. His eyes widened, and a stray tear rolled silently down his cheek as the lyrics slowly formed in his mind. He began to sing again.

You reach for the skies

And there, you will see

A billion stars shining so true

A billion stars that dance in the heavens

Yet not a single one, burns quite like you

He blew out the candle.

“Reach the Skies”

“Luan,” said the voice.

“Please,” he begged, “please stop calling me.” He held his hands to his head and fell back on his heels, tightly shutting his eyes. “I am happy, okay? We’re happy. We don’t need anything else. So I beg you, leave me alone.”

“But are you?” the voice came again. Except this time, the voice sounded…different. He opened his eyes and anxiously stood up. He was no longer in a dreary abyss of violent waves. They were no longer crashing down on him. The pressure in his chest lifted and he felt the chaos subside. He was on the ocean. He stood as still as the vast blue expanse below him, silent waters that rippled carefully beneath his feet. He looked up. The sun was rising to a bright, early morning. A light, crescent moon hovered in the corner of his vision, waiting to fade away, taking its last breaths.

“Who are you?” Luan asked again, almost having forgotten he was not alone. He was met by a long moment of silence. Luan opened his mouth to ask again, but before he could speak, the voice answered him.

“I know it’s been years, but don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten?” laughed the voice. Luan’s heart swelled and shattered all at once. After years of trying to pick up the broken pieces, trying to place everything in the most correct way possible, to act as if everything had been perfectly fine, once again, it shattered. It shattered like thin glass as he didn’t even recognize such a familiar, welcoming voice.

“Papa.”

He hugged him and he wept and they both fell back, resting on the ocean’s still surface. Luan continued to hyperventilate as he struggled to speak. “I-I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” he choked out.

Kalawai`a gently kissed his son’s head as he spoke. “I’m sorry, My Star. I’m so sorry. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” He held Luan at arm’s length, lightly touching his shoulders. He inspected every inch of the face that looked so similar to his own. Kalawai`a beamed at his son, an adult now. “My Star,” he cried as he wiped away Luan’s tears. “My continued beautiful boy. You’ve grown so much.” Luan held his father’s hand close to his face. He had dearly missed the familiar, warm touch.

“I have so much to tell you, Papa.” He gave a small laugh, trying to suppress his tears.

Kalawai`a sat with his son, listening intently to all he had missed. They laughed as they spoke of Luan’s memories from the past fifteen years.

“So,” Kalawai `a said, breaking the comfortable silence. “MIT? Son, that’s incredible. Really, it’s one of the hardest schools to get into. But I do have to ask you one thing.”

Luan looked at his father curiously.

“Why?” Kalawai `a asked with a blank face.

Luan looked back at him, puzzled. “What do you mean? I major in astronomy.”

“Yes, but I thought that wasn’t your thing? Why did you do it?”

Luan sighed, averting his eyes and instead turning his gaze to the heavens again.

“For Mama.” He admitted.

Kalawai`a sighed. “I see,” he said as he glanced up at the moon. It still hadn’t moved. Then he was standing up and walking away.

“Then I guess I’ll see you in a little bit,” his father said, his back still turned to him.

“Wait, Papa, where are you going?” Luan scrambled to his feet, but his father’s image faded away, returning to the air. He was beginning to think he might never see anyone again when he spied movement ahead of him. He squinted. Far away, he could see someone walking towards him. Luan laughed. “Papa, where did you go?”

But no answer came.

The figure grew closer, and Luan’s face scrunched up in painful recognition. He dropped to the floor. Guilt settled into his heart and pooled in his veins as he curled his hands into fists and planted them firmly on his knees. He hung his head in shame as tears fell from his eyes to join the ocean. The steps came closer, faltering in intensity until two short heeled shoes stopped directly in front of him. He laid his head on the small feet, his tears stained the shiny shoes.

“I’m so sorry, Mama.”

Leia held her weeping son in her arms. “My Star,” Leia cried, “why do you apologize?”

Luan looked at his mother, her beauty remained untouched from her early departure.

“Oh my!” exclaimed Leia, “Are you sure I’m not looking at my Kalawai`a?” she smiled as she kissed Luan’s forehead. Luan gave her a smile that shied in comparison and looked down.

“I’m so sorry I failed you,” he whispered. Luan stood up and turned away from his mother.

“What?” Leia said, pain straining her voice.

Luan still looked away in shame. “Do you regret having me before you were ready?”

Leia took a deep breath.

“Son, do you wanna know why I overreacted about you becoming an astronomer?”

Luan risked a glance at his mother and nodded. Leia pondered for a moment.

“I, too, was on my way to becoming a great astronomer when I was younger. It was all I ever wanted to be since I was a child. I set my entire life goal on this career and everything went according to plan. I even got into a prestigious college. That is,” she looked up at the crescent moon and smiled, “until I fell in love. Since then, I’ve been so distracted by my first love that I had taken for granted all my studies. I was completely love-struck. Head over heels if you will” she laughed. “Son, when you love someone, you’re willing to do anything for them. You’re willing to reach the skies for them. The moon, a thousand times and back. She sighed. “I regret not working harder, but looking back, looking at you,” she grinned, “I know I made the right choice. So you see, I’m not going to let that happen. “

“What do you mean?”

“Luan. I’m not going to let you stand here and blame yourself for my own faults. I’m your mother. I love you with all of my heart and if I really love you, I shouldn’t force my unaccomplished dreams onto my child.” Leia hugged her son tightly. “Luan, you didn’t fail me,” she smiled and it lit up her entire face when she did, “You’ve done it, my star.” With that Leia’s image slowly began to fade away. “You’ve reached the skies.”

Luan looked around him with newfound calm as the setting shifted. He smiled to himself. He recognized this scene. This time, he was on the crescent moon. He sat at the base, letting a leg hang casually over the side. It didn’t seem so large anymore.

“How did I get here?” he asked aloud. Startled, he brought his hand up to his chest. It was his voice, but something was different about it. Off. He looked down at his hands, one of which grasped his father’s fishing pole in its chubby fingers. His hands were much smaller, like a child’s. Astonished, he brought his hand up to his face, only to find its definition lost in smooth, plump skin. He ran it through his fluffy, long hair. He laughed, a musical sound. My hair hasn’t been like this since, he gasped, realizing.

Since I was eight.

He hugged one of his tiny legs to his chest, carefully examining the fishing pole in his other hand. The engraving on its side read K.K.. He sighed, closing his eyes. After years of being a star trapped in the dark, Luan had finally found his moon. He exhaled, leaning back against the moon.

It was the perfect day for a fishing trip.

She spoke with Venus and the dying moon in the golden predawn glow She told them of her sorrows and the weight upon her soul

She listened to their silence and in it found her peace

She closed her eyes and took a breath and exhaled sweet relief.

by Lacey Veazey-Daniel