“What?”
“An expansion of the islands!”
I sit back as I examine my toes and frown. “They’re islands. How do you expand them?”
“By creating man-made islands. They’re talking about another for residents and two more for the resort. They showed us the proposed layout, and Lie, it’s stunning. They’re talkingapartments and shit. Like, affordable accommodations for people like us! The kids of the adults who work here.”
We’re not the first generation of kids that have been born on the Isle of Kala. They’re probably ten years older than us. Maybe fifteen years older. But the world has changed a lot in that decade and now finding work that pays the bills is difficult.
Not only that, but affording one of the few precious pieces of real estate that come up for grabs is impossible without making some real damn money. Money that you simply don’t make by the stupid little jobs that are readily available.
I’m not naïve to the fact that this is normal all over the world. Knowing that doesn’t make it any less frustrating, though.
“Any news for a Kala college?” I ask.
“No, but I did bring it up. Bottom line is there aren’t enough people here that would attend at any given time. It’s not a venture that makes sense. “
I knew that. I’ve been looking into online courses since crying to my daddy to bring me home after being bullied and hazed at a college I attended for almost three semesters in Texas. It was the worst experience of my life. Someone actually smeared shit on my dorm room door!
A tightness grips my chest, and I take a breath. Not going to lie. I always feel like a bit of a failure for running away. There’s a part of me that knows I shouldn’t feel that way, but I caved under the bullying and ran instead of standing my ground.
I’m not sure I even want to go to college. A degree doesn’t guarantee you anything anymore. Not even on Kala. I only enrolled because I thought it’d be a good way to explore what’s out there. Maybe it’d help me decide what I want to do.
“What else?” I ask.
“For the past several months, the residents of Tasker Lane have been on Jeremy Darling’s case to repaint his house,” Cash says and I nod along. I remember that from last month’smeeting. “He agreed, but now they won’t let him because he wants to paint it beige.”
My face scrunches. “Why?”
Cash laughs. “Honestly, Lie. Have you looked at this man? Heisbeige. He was wearing tan shoes, khaki shorts, and a sand buttoned tee. The Pixl Latte is practically all neutral beige colors. That’s just his aesthetic. But all of Tasker Lane is outraged because it’s a bright colorful rainbow and he wants to drop a beige house right in the middle.”
The Pixl Latte is Jeremy’s coffee shop here on Bane Island. One of two. The other is far more colorful and fun, but not gonna lie—Jeremy’s drinks are far superior. The shop itself is modern, with clean lines and a neutral pallet. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it contrasts the islands’ vibes drastically.
“Huh.”
“We spent twenty-five minutes on that argument alone. It was wild.”
“That’s excessive. Was there a group argument or one person arguing?”
“Oh no. It was a full-blown argument. Shouting and pointing fingers and most amusing of all, Jeremy was silent for almost the entire thing except to state that he really loves the shade, and then at the end, saying hestillreally loves the shade, but if the island is going to throw a tantrum, then he’ll paint it yellow again. Which, of course, only led to more arguing as the ones throwing a tantrum are upset they’re being accused of throwing a tantrum, and the opposition who not only agrees with that assessment, but is still up in arms that they’re forcing someone to live a certain way when that’s half the battle our community faces in the world as a whole and we shouldn’t be forcing color on someone who doesn’t want it. In the end, no decision.”
I laugh. I wonder if all islands around the world go through this same thing. It’s super entertaining and yet, I love knowing what’s going on within my community.
“Miss Patty is looking for someone to sew some costumes for the pee wee dancers,” he says. “Interested?”
I hum and shrug. “Maybe. Depends on what they’re looking for. If they need basic structure, I can probably be convinced. If they’re looking for a million sequins, I’m going to have to pass.”
Cash laughs.
This time when I hear a door shut, it’s within my house. I wince. Mom’s home.
I love my mother, and I know she loves me, but I try to avoid staying inside when it’s just me and Mom. Her little digs that I’m not always convinced are accidental really get to me.
“Hold on, Cash. I need to relocate.”
“Yep.”
I gather my crocheting back into its basket and shove it under my bed. Then I grab my book and a couple of magazines, my phone, and a water bottle as I slide into my flip-flops and head out of my room, flicking the light off.
