"A day in the life of Aithne" Raffle event

Gabby hummed as she picked up the mail for the household. She was supposed to be getting an important letter today, and she couldn’t wait to open it. There were quite a few letters in the bunch, most of which were meant for her father. In the sea of white, however, was one lone blue envelope. It had the address of a hotel in the upper left corner written in English, her new address in Japanese in the center (or, she assumed it was her address. She was still learning to read Japanese), a stamp with a colorful bird in the right-hand corner, and a red flower was stamped directly above Gabby’s name. It was definitely the work of her mother. She loved that about her mother. She always marked her things with flowers, usually in blue, since it was her favorite color, but that would have blended in too much. She separated the blue envelope from the rest of the pile, and ran back inside her house.

Even back when she was young, Iwaigodai wasn’t a bright place. Then again, no place was as bright as Fiji. It didn’t stop her though. She had filled her house with flowers she found around the area and rocks that reminded her of the beaches. One could not enter a room in this house and not find themselves surrounded by the memory Gabby still had of Fiji. She had left when she was four, nearly five, and hadn’t seen the place since. Now, she was six, and in the country she and her father had been born. Yet, she could barely speak the language. Even though her father was doing his best to teach her, and she was putting in a lot of time outside of school to meet with the teachers, she could only grasp the bare minimum.

Her father was kneeling at the dinning room table. She took her place across from him, and held up the letters sent for him, “Tegami wo atarimasu (Letter arrives).” Her father looked at her and sighed, “Nihongo wo warui. Motto renshuushite kudasai (Your Japanese is bad. Please, practice more).” Gabby nodded. This was her third language, and it was nothing like Fijian or English. How did he expect her to understand it right away? She couldn’t complain though. This was her life now. She passed the letters to him, placed the blue one next to her on the floor, and went to eating. She placed the chopsticks, the only Japanese thing she was decent at, on the plate in the middle of the table, and stole a piece of friend banana. She brought it to her lips and ate the food her father had made. Considering how much time he had spent growing up in Japan, and how little he cooked over the years, it was surprising that he chose to make the same things Gabby’s mother was good at.

He sighed again, and placed some other food on her plate, “Don’t use your personal chopsticks to take from the shared plate. How many times do I have to tell you that? You also have to say Itadakimasu before you eat.” This time, he spoke in Fijian so Gabby understood. She didn’t say anything, instead nodding. Old habits died hard. She still wasn’t used to eating the same way native Japanese families did. Back home, most of the people she saw eating were American and British; they didn’t seem to mind sharing food between plates. She was in Japan now though. The customs were different and she would have to learn all of them to make her father happy. She smiled at him, “Itadakimasu.” And began eating from her plate.

All the while, the blue letter next to her feet kept egging her on. The faster she ate, the sooner she could read what her mother had sent her. She stuffed her face as quickly as she could. Something wasn’t going down right, and she coughed until it came out of her throat. Her father ran over and began rubbing her back, “You shouldn’t eat so fast. You’ll only hurt yourself that way.” As soon as her coughing stopped, he leaned her back so she was looking up the ceiling and his face, “Are you alright now?” She nodded. Her feet rubbed against the envelope, “Hey, can you read what Nana said? She sent a letter, and I want us to read it.” He looked at her as if something were wrong with her brain. She quite nearly choked, and all she wanted was for him to read a letter? Not get a glass of water to wash down the food? Not panic that she had nearly died (though not really)? She only wanted him to read the letter her mother had sent her. He couldn’t refuse such a simple request.

He found the envelope on the ground and picked it up. Taking his time, so as not to destroy the flower or the stamp, he opened it up. Inside, was a normal white sheet of paper, with handwritten sentences on it. The only thing setting it apart from any other sheet, was a watermark that was just barely noticeable. He took out the paper and gave a glance to his daughter, “Are you sure you want me to read this? It was meant for you.” She nodded, “Yeah. It’s from Nana, meaning it’s for the both of us. Nana and Tata and Gabby all make a family, so this is a family message.” He didn’t bother to correct her. Every time he tried to explain what a divorce was, Gabby would forget.

“Hello, Gabs,” Her father began quoting the words in front of him. The entire thing was in Fijian, so she understood without any trouble, “I hope you have made plenty of friends over in Japan.” She hadn’t, yet, “The weather here today was hotter than normal, the water even began to boil. Thank goodness we have air-conditioning.” Her mother wasn’t as funny as she thought she was, but she still laughed, “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit you, yet. The hotel can’t run without me, so I can’t leave.” She understood. Her mother was a busy woman, “I’ll try and make it over as soon as I can. Unless, that is, you want to…” Her father trailed off. She waited for him to finish the sentence, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood up, the letter still in his hand, and left the dining room. Gabby followed him to the entrance, where he was putting on his shoes, “Are we going out?” He looked back and her and shook his head, “No. You’re staying here, and I am going out. Lock the door when I leave.” She didn’t understand why, but she did as told.