Siobahn in Flight

Siobahn looked down out of the clouds. Tearing her eyes away from the small round window, she beamed at Daddy. “Look! We’re flying. We’re up in the air!” So excited she couldn’t talk anymore, she waved and pointed out the window.

Daddy didn’t look happy. He just patted her arm and said, “That’s nice, nene.”

“I wanna see,” Annoying Brother Darius said, climbing across Daddy’s lap.

“No,” she said, trying to cover the window with her hands so Darius couldn’t see. Her hands were too small.

“Let him look, Siobahn,” Daddy said in his You Better Do It Or Else tone. She put her hands down, and Darius crawled on top of her, peering out the window. His annoying pointy knees dug into her thigh.

“Ow!” She flicked his ear hard.

“SHE HIT ME!” Darius wailed.

“I did noooooooottt….”

Daddy’s voice was low, quiet, cold. “If you keep fighting, you’re going to be in trouble until you’re grown. Sioban, you move to the end. Darius, sit by me. I’ll sit by the window.”

There weren’t many other people on the plane. None of them sat near Siobahn or her family. When Darius yelled, they’d looked up, but now the other people were looking anywhere but at them.

She’d embarrassed the family. She knew she was in big trouble when they got–wherever they were going.

After Daddy had shuffled the seating, she had to sit next to Annoying Brother Darius.

“It’s your fault,” she whispered to him.

“You’re the oldest,” Daddy said. “You should know better.”

Darius smirked. “Yeah, you should know better.”

She wanted to say something to him but didn’t want to get in more trouble. She turned the knob thingie in the seat in front of her. A tray crashed down.

Darius snickered.

Daddy just stared out the window, looking sad.

He always looks sad since Mama died, she thought.

A tall blonde lady in a fancy uniform came over to where they were sitting. “Mr. Sama, the Major would like to speak to you.”

She gestured toward the front of the plane, toward a mysterious curtain where the lady said she and Darius couldn’t go. Daddy had said Siobahn should do what the lady said because she was a sergeant in the US Army. Siobahn wasn’t sure what a sergeant was, but she thought that the US was a place that used to exist a long time ago.

Daddy looked up, eyes not trusting. “I’m afraid if I leave, these two will kill each other.”

The lady smiled. “Do you want me to sit with them?”

Daddy looked hard at the sergeant for a long time. A really long time–so long it made Siobahn uncomfortable.

“Okay,” he finally said. He stood up, slid out past Darius and Siobahn, and stood in the aisle. Then he leaned down and said in his You’re-On-Thin-Ice voice,. “You’d better be good..” He made eye contact with both kids, then walked forward through the curtain.

“Can I sit in the middle?” the sergeant asked.

Darius smirked at Siobahn and scooted toward the window. Siobahn rolled her eyes.

The sergeant sat in between and put the seatbelt on. “You’d better put yours on, too.”

Siobahn did. Darius stared out the window, ignoring everyone. After a couple of minutes, the sergeant buckled the seatbelt around the boy. Sloban didn’t like that. It was the kind of thing Mama might have done. Darius was an Annoying LIttle Brother, but she didn’t like the idea of a strange woman doing little things for him, like their mother would have.

“What are your names?” the sergeant asked. “I’m Beth.”

“I’m Siobahn. And that’s my Annoying Little Brother, Darius.”

Darius turned away from the window, stuck his tongue out, and turned back.

“I’ll think I’ll just call you Darius,” Beth said. She turned. “Siobahn. That’s a pretty name. How do you spell that?” Then she stopped, and looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. Do you people read and write? Do you know how to spell your name?”

Is this lady stupid or what? “S I O B A H N. Of course I can spell. Can you?”

The sergeant looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry….I…”

“Siobahn felt bad. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Daddy said I shouldn’t judge people if they can’t read or write. He says…”

“I can read fine,” Beth said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“OK.”

Awkward silence. Finally, Beth said, “The way you spell your name….I would have thought it would be “S H I V O N N E.”

“But it’s Gaelic. The S is like the “SH” and…”

“How many languages do you speak?” Beth asked.

Siobahn shrugged. “I don’t know. Tagalog because of Daddy, and Mama was Irish and spoke Gaelic. Everybody in the village speaks English, so we can all understand each other.” She thought, and started counting on her fingers. “Gaelic, Tagalog, English….some Japanese…a little bit of Korean. That’s five languages. But I can only read and write Gaelic, Tagalog, and English, so maybe that’s only three.”

“But she doesn’t speak te reo,” said Darius proudly. “I do.”

“That’s true,” Siobahn, deciding to be older and more mature and not be jealous because Darius was trying to show off. To Beth, she said, “The Kaihe family on the farm next door is Maori. They have three boys. Darius spends a lot of time there, so he learned te reo.”

“Is that the Maori language?” Beth seemed puzzled.

“Of course,” Darius said. “Duh.”

“Don’t be rude, Siobahn said. She didn’t want her brother to make this sergeant lady feel bad.

“I only know English,” Beth said.

“Really?” That shocked Siobahn. She didn’t know what to say without seeming rude, so she kept quiet.

“How did you learn so many languages?”

Darius said, “People in the village came from all over.”

“From all over the Pacific,” Siobahn said. It’s OK for Darius to talk, but he better not pretend he’s smarter than I am. He’s such a show off. “Daddy’s great grandpa founded the village. He said it was really important that people remembered where they came from, so that’s why people speak so many languages. Most of the families try to make sure that they remember the language their families spoke when they came. That’s what Daddy says. ”

“Yeah,” Darius said. “Grandpa’s people were called the Bajau. They lived on villages that floated on water, so when the oceans started rising, they still had a place to say. But lots of others didn’t.”

“Bajau? Where’s that?”

SIobahn was not about to be outdone by her Annoying Brother. “I think they used to call it the Philippines, but we were on other islands, too. Anyway, when the waters came up, people who lived on land didn’t have a place to stay. The Bajau took in as many people as they could, but the floating villages didn’t have that much room.

“A lot of people died,” Darius said, seriously. “A lot of them drowned.”

“I learned about some of that when I was a girl in school,” said Beth. “But my teachers talked about how much of the United States got covered with water, which was why my great grandparents went to live underground. My teachers didn’t talk about what happened in other countries.”

“What happened to the people who didn’t go underground?” Siobahn asked.

“I don’t know. I guess they died, too,” said Beth, looking uncomfortable.

“My Mama died,” said Darius.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Beth.

“I don’t want to talk about people dying anymore,” said Siobahn. She noticed little tears running down Darius’ dark face. She felt bad for him, and reached across Beth to wipe his cheeks, but he pulled away.

He turned back toward the window. His little shoulders were shaking. Siobahn felt bad, but she’d felt that way a lot, too. Sometimes you just needed to cry if you were real sad, and she knew it made Darius feel bad when people saw him cry.

Beth started to reach out to the boy, but stopped.

“Don’t,” said Siobahn quietly. “Just leave him alone for a while.”

Why doesn’t Daddy come back? This lady’s trying to be nice, I guess, but she seems kind of clueless. She craned her head, looking toward the mysterious curtain, willing her father to return.

“I’m going to go talk to Daddy,” she announced, and started to take her seatbelt off.

“Please don’t,” Beth said.

Siobahn stopped. “Why not?”

“I think I might get in trouble with the Major if he gets interrupted while he’s talking to your father.”

What do I care? Then, she sat back down. “I guess I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Thank you.” Beth looked relieved.

More awkward silence.

Sioban, twirled the ends of her long red hair. It was something to do when she was uncomfortable.

“Can I have something to eat?” Darius asked. He sniffled a bit, but he’d stopped crying.

“Sure.” Beth pushed a button. Before long, a man in a funny looking outfit kind of like Beth’s came over.

“Do you need something, Sergeant Baker?”

“I think these kids are hungry.” She and the man talked, and before long, the man named Private came back with two trays of snacks and some small bottles with red liquid in them.

“Thank you, Private,” said Beth.

Darius was already eating. “This is pretty good. Are we supposed to drink that red stuff?”

“It’s called ‘Kool-Ade,’ Beth said, twisting the top off and handing it to the boy.

Siobahn didn’t like that, either. It seemed like the kind of thing a mom would do. Then she felt worse because Mama wasn’t here to do things for Darius and never would be. Should I be doing things like that for him? Should I do some of the things Mama used to? She didn’t like the idea. She also realized, in the moment, that Mama would want her to do those things. Maybe I should teach him to read and write Gaelic, so he’ll remember Mama’s language. She realized her brother wouldn’t know his own mother’s beloved language unless she taught him.

She didn’t touch the snacks the man had brought.

Instead, she said, “I thought ‘Private’ means ‘personal.’ It’s kind of a funny first name.”

Beth smiled gently. “It does, but it’s also a rank in the Army. I call him private, because that’s his rank. His last name is Wilson, so I could call him Private Wilson, or Wilson. But I was trying to be polite–he just did something for me that I asked him to--so I called him Private.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s OK,” Beth said. “There’s a lot about the Army I don’t understand, ether.” She paused for a while. “Can you tell me more about your family? How did your great grandfather get from the Philippines to Washington State?”

“Sure,” said Siobahn, feeling proud she could talk about her family history. “Great grandpa and his brothers took a boat and went looking for land…”

“What’s Washington State?” Darius interrupted.

The older woman seemed surprised by the question. “It’s where you live.”

“I never heard that name,” said Siobahn. “Daddy says we live at the top of the Snoqualmie Pass, by Kiya Lake. We can see Mt. Tahoma there.”

“Washington State is the whole area. I think what you call Mt. Tahoma is really called Mount Rainier.” Darius was shaking his head. “Washington State is part of the United States. I’m in the US Army.”

None of this made any sense to SIobahn. “I know that, a long time ago, those islands we live on now were part of the United States. But now most of the US is under water.”

“That’s right,” said Beth.

Darius added, “Daddy said that the people who lived in the US mostly went underground.”

“That’s right,” Beth said.

“But that was a couple hundred years ago,” said Siobahn. “I know you all came up from underground a few years back. Daddy said we should share the land with you. That there’s enough for everyone.”

“What?” Beth said, looking puzzled. “It’s our land. It’s the….it’s the United States of America.”

The plane dropped, then settled down. Siobahn was terrified. “What was that? Are we going to crash?”

“It’s called ‘turbulence,’” said Beth. “Just wind blowing the plane around a bit.”

“Are you sure?” Darius asked.

“Pretty sure,” Beth said. “This happens nearly every time we fly.”

“What are those?” Darius asked, pointing out the window. “Are they more islands?”

Beth leaned over and looked down. “I think they’re part of the Rockies. The Rocky Mountains.”

“But they’re Islands,” he said.

“That’s the top of the mountains coming out of the water.”

“Did that used to be part of the United States, too?” Darius continued.

“Yes. The United States is big. It stretches…stretched…from the Atlantic to the Pacific. It’s almost 3,000 miles across.”

“So you say the United States owns all the water and the islands for 3,000 miles?” Siobahn asked. That didn’t sound right.

“Yes,” said Beth, sounding a little impatient.

“No one owns the ocean, Daddy says,” said Siobahn. “He does a lot of diving out on open water, so he’s careful about what he calls international law. He says a country can claim the ocean up to 3 miles out from shore, but after that, it belongs to everyone. We all have a right to use it.”

Darius nodded his head seriously. “Daddy taught me this, too. He says the things out on the open water that have been left for a long time are called sal…sal….Salvage!” He seemed proud he’d remembered the word. “The law says that salvage belongs to the person who finds it first.”

“Daddy’s smart,” Siobahn says. “That’s why he never shows anyone where he goes diving.”

Beth looked confused. “But it belongs to America. The United States, I mean.”

Siobahn felt sorry for the older woman. She tried to pat her arm gently. “I know you and your people lived under the ground a long time. What you used to call the United States….it’s a bunch of islands.”

“It’s OK,” said Darius. “The Bajao will take care of your people. You can live in the village–or start your own. There’s lots of land in the Snoqualmie Pass. There’s room for everyone.”

“You….I…” Beth didn’t seem to know what to say. “You don’t understand. The land your village is on, the pass, Mt. Rainier, it’s our land.”

“I think if you go underground for two hundred years and don’t come out, it’s not your land anymore,” said SIobahn. “It belongs to the people who live there.”

Daddy came back. He wore the expression he used when he had to referee arguments in the village. “Did they behave, sergeant?” he asked.

“Um, yes. They were fine.” She looked a bit confused. “I…I got them something to eat. I hope it’s OK. I should have asked.

“It’s fine. What do you say?” he said, to Sioban.

“Thank you!”

Darius added, “Thank you for the snacks.” He kind of sang when he said it.

The sergeant looked at one child, then the other, and shook her head. “You’ve got your hands full.’

“I know it.” Daddy’s smile was genuine then.

They all got situated back in their seats, Daddy between her and Darius.

Once Beth was out of earshot, Daddy asked, “What did you do?”

“I don’t think these people are very smart,” Darius said. “They think they own the ocean.”

“And they said we’re living on their land,” added Siobahn. “They’ve been living underground since forever. They left the land. How can they say it’s still theirs?”

“And look,” Darius said, pointing out the window. They say those islands are mountains.”

“And I think she can only read and write one language. Don’t ‘Americans’ get an education?”

Daddy shook his head. He switched to Tagalog. “Let’s not talk so loudly. We don’t want to be rude.”

“What did they want?” Siobahn asked.

“They want me to come work for them.”

“What do they want you to do?” Darius asked.

“They want me to dive. They want to pay me to find things.” He stopped, then added. “They’re running out of things they need underground and they have to come out.”

“Oh,” said Siobahn. Daddy was probably the best diver in the village. He used to drive and find things when the “Americans” would come up out of the ground and want to trade. “That makes sense.”

“Are you going to do it? What are they going to give you?”

Daddy looked serious. “They said we can stay on our land. That the Bajau won’t have to move.”

“And you told them no, right?” Darius said, looking defiant. “Because it already is our land.”

Daddy shook his head. “It’s not that simple. They think it’s their land, and if they wanted to, they probably can push us out.”

“Why?” Sioabahn asked. “And what do they want you to dive for?”

“Look, son, I know it’s our land. Just like I know they don’t own the ocean. But they don’t know that.”

Siobahn asked, “So why would you go work for these people if all they’re going to give you is the land you already legally own.”

“Legally owning something and getting to keep it are two different things. They think they have the right to it, and they’ve got some fancy machinery that can force us out, so they think they’re right just because they can.”

Darius was lost. Siobahn didn’t quite get it, either. “I still don’t understand. Do they want to come and live in our village? Are they going to get rid of our farms and make their own.”

“No. They just don’t want us here. We’re different. We’re not like them. We make them uncomfortable.”

“But if we’re real nice, maybe they…”

“Siobahn, when people have been comfortable for a long time, they start to think they’re more important than other people. More important than people who make them uncomfortable. That’s why I’m probably going to work for them. We’re flying to a place called Denver. They say it’s the new capital of the United States. They want me to sign papers. They call it a ‘treaty.’”

Siobahn was dumbfounded. “But Daddy, you’re head man in the village. How can you do that and still go to work for these Americans? You have too much to…”

“That’s why I’m going to do it. To protect the village the best way I know how. If all they pay me is to let the village stay where it is, to let us keep our home, it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

Siobahn sniffed. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

“It’s not fair. But it’s what I can do.”

After that, Sioban stopped being excited about being on the plane. She wanted off. She wanted to go back to her village.