“Before the Healing” by Merrijane Rice

Master, I beseech thee, look upon my son:
for he is mine only child.
Luke 9:38

A devil grips my son,
shakes him like a mast
in sudden storm till bones rattle
and head beats the ground.
I cannot tear him free.

He is bruised and scarred,
but not from play.
I once pulled him blistered
from his mother’s cooking fire.
Another day, as I mended nets,
he collapsed in stony shallows.
I ran to hold his head above water,
cradle him till the fit passed.

At night, I wrestle
with his empty future:
He will never learn to sail or sort
a day’s catch on the shore.
He will never read in the synagogue
or keep a feast day in the shadow
of the Lord’s holy house.
He will never marry or worry
over children of his own.

I still believe. I pray.
I plead to know what lack in me
keeps us from compassion,
but scarcely dare to ask again
for what has been withheld.

By early morning, I am wrung out.
Silence hangs like a heavy veil.
I venture one more question,
father to Father:
If you had just one child,
would you do nothing to save him
from being torn in two?

“Paradisiacal Glory” by Katherine Cowley

The Millennium was much colder than Robert had expected.

He removed his outer gloves and attached them to his parka so they wouldn’t fall into the icy water. Now, with only the liner gloves, the Antarctic cold attacked his fingers, but at least he could eat something.

Robert unwrapped the paper wrapper—no single-use plastic, not anymore—and bit into the granola bar. Many people had been given assignments where they lived before the Savior’s second coming. Robert thought longingly of his home in Florida. If he oversaw the Work of Renewal, he would remake the world entirely into Florida’s weather. Good temperatures all year round, like in the Garden of Eden.

He finished the granola bar and considered the paper wrapper. There was a proper disposal method for it, but it took extra effort, and the wrapper was biodegradable. He glanced around to make sure his daughter wasn’t nearby, then balled up the paper and threw it over the edge of the hovercraft, into the frigid water.

He restarted the machine, listening to the unnaturally quiet spin of the motor. No burning fuel now, it was all battery-operated. When he had retired a few years before, he hadn’t wanted to use heavy machinery again. He had also wanted a Millennial assignment which involved all day in the temple, but apparently God had other plans. There was no temple on Antarctica.

Robert turned the machine to the frazil ice setting. He reached out its large extended arm over the salt water and began the agonizing process of converting it into frazil ice. It made a sort of snowy slush in the water. In a few hours, he would go over the whole section a second time to convert it into sea ice, which apparently did something useful for Antarctica.

He sniffed, his nose cold despite the layers. When he finished, he could go inside and do something productive, like read the scriptures. He switched the machine’s setting from frazil ice to sea ice and tried it on the salt water. It worked! It could turn the water directly into sea ice. Skipping the frazil ice stage would save lots of time.

He was getting into a rhythm when he heard the voice of his daughter, Victoria. “Hey, Dad.” She had flown up beside him on her own hovercraft.

Robert turned off the machine. “Yes, honey?” He glanced to where he had thrown the paper wrapper. He could still see it, floating a little below the water’s surface. Hopefully Victoria wouldn’t notice it.

“I think you accidentally set your machine wrong,” said Victoria. “You need to turn the water into frazil ice first.”

“But the machine is strong enough to turn it straight into sea ice. It saves time.”

“True, but it won’t have the correct internal structures,” said Victoria. “We have to do this step by step, line upon line. Ice upon ice.”

Robert shrugged.

“You wouldn’t take a name to the temple and go straight to sealings without doing all the other ordinances, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Corrected, Robert turned the machine’s setting back to frazil ice. His daughter had been called to lead this sector’s ice efforts, rebuilding the permafrost and creating glaciers, ice sheets, and other sorts of ice and snow. The rest of the extended family was also assigned to Antarctica. He wished he had his wife and grandkids’ calling, working on the Penguin Renewal Project.

“I know you find it frustrating to do this,” said Victoria.

“It’s fine,” said Robert. “We only receive callings we’re supposed to have.”

“I had always wanted to visit Antarctica—what was left of it.” She reached out her arms, gesturing at the icy expanse around them. “And to think, now I get to help remake it, as it was meant to be.”

One of the things he had always loved about Victoria was her sense of wonder, the way the smallest things gave her delight. The sun glinted off the icy expanse, and as he tried to see it through her eyes, it did look beautiful.

“Did you hear about how we got all these machines? The hovercrafts, the ice machines, the air-cleaning planes?” Victoria’s husband Rafael was flying one of those planes right now, removing carbon dioxide, methane, and other pollutants from the atmosphere. “I heard that it was like with Nephi, or the Brother of Jared. That we were given plans and revelation beyond our technological abilities. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Yes,” said Robert, and it was wondrous, really. He tried scratching his ear, which didn’t work well with all the layers. “When Joseph Smith said the Earth would be renewed, he didn’t say that we were the ones who would have to do it. I thought God would wave His hands and it would just happen.”

“You always did say we were instruments in His hands,” said Victoria.

“I do feel awfully like a glorified icemaker right now.”

She laughed. “A paradisiacal icemaker, Dad. You’re making glorious ice.”

“Well, I better get back to it then.”

“You’re amazing, Dad. See you in a bit!”

“Love you, Victoria.”

She floated away in her hovercraft.

This time, Robert took his time making the frazil ice, watching the patterns it created in the water. Honestly, part of the reason he didn’t like this calling was it made him feel guilty, reminding him of how he had contributed to the Earth needing renewal. He had not been a very good steward.

He approached the part of the water where his paper wrapper still floated. He stopped his machine, not wanting his waste to become part of the glorified ice.

He made an improvised net with some spare parts on the hovercraft. It took about ten minutes—the paper kept slipping out of his grasp—but finally he got it out of the water.

Robert looked out at the ice and land and water before him. “I am sorry, Earth,” he whispered. “I will try to treat you better.”

2019 Mormon Lit Blitz Finalists

Finalists for the 8th Annual Mormon Lit Blitz will be posted here on lit.mormonartist.net from Monday, 1 July – Saturday, 13 July, according to the following schedule:

Monday, July 1: “Paradisaical Glory” by Katherine Cowley
Tuesday, July 2: “Before the Healing” by Merrijane Rice
Wednesday, July 3: “How Do We Make Sense of What Will Be When We Hold Remnants of What Once Was?” by Steven Peck
Thursday, July 4: “Separation” by Mark Penny
Friday, July 5: “Un dios en quien confiar” by Gabriel González Núñez
Saturday, July 6: “The Casting Out of Spirits” by Jeanine Bee

Monday, July 8:“The Seven Deadly Housewarmers” by Emily Harris Adams
Tuesday, July 9: “The Investigator” by Jeanine Bee
Wednesday, July 10: “The Hills of Heaven” by Scott Hales
Thursday, July 11: “As minhas férias na ilha de Santo Antão” by César Augusto Medina Fortes
Friday, July 12: “Remnant” by Sarah Dunster
Saturday, July 13: “Low Tide” by Merrijane Rice

Audience voting for the Grand Prize Winner will take place July 15-18.

Thank you to everyone who submitted to this year’s Mormon Lit Blitz and congratulations to the finalists!

Two Weeks Left to Submit!

Reminder: 

Submissions for the Eighth Annual Mormon Lit Blitz Writing Contest are due by 31 May 2019 to everydaymormonwriter@gmail.com (*UPDATE* We’ve added a weekend grace period and will consider anything submitted by the end of the day on Monday, 3 June). Submitted works may be in any genre so long as they are under 1,000 words and designed to resonate in some way with an Latter-day Saint audience. Previously published material and simultaneous submissions are acceptable. Up to three submissions are allowed per author.

Finalists will be posted on the Mormon Artist magazine website (lit.mormonartist.net) starting in July. At the conclusion of the Lit Blitz, readers will vote for their favorite pieces, and a $100 prize will be given to the audience choice winner.

For updates about the 2019 contest, follow the Mormon Lit Blitz Facebook page.

To facilitate the judging process, we prefer to receive submissions as .doc, .docx, or .pdf attachments with the author’s name and contact information in the body of the email but not included in the attached text. Please email submissions and any questions you may have to everydaymormonwriter@gmail.com.

By submitting, authors give us the one-time rights to publish their work electronically. As stated above, previously published work is fine if you still have the rights to the piece and if it meets the above contest requirements.

Past Finalists: 

Interested in this contest? Take a look at past years’ finalists to get a taste of what we’ve featured:

We look forward to reading your entries!

Winners for the Around the World in Mormon Lit Contest

We loved this contest. It has been wonderful reading the stories people sent us,  sharing the finalists, and seeing people’s reactions to these writers and their work.

Thank you to the writers, the translators, the readers, and the voters who made this such a great experience. Thanks, especially, to those who shared these stories with friends and encouraged them to help us choose a winner. It was wonderful to see so many people from around the world voting.

We have two $100 awards to give. The Grand Prize goes to the piece with the most votes from readers. We also have a Judges’ Choice Award to recognize great writing in other pieces.

Grand Prize

After counting all the votes, the top stories were:

5. “Victor” by David Hurtado

4. “La Muralla del Tiempo” (“The Wall of Time“) by Camila Andrea Fernández

3. “Duas Missões” (“Two Missions”)  by Andreza Castro

2. “O Amigo Secreto” (“The Secret Friend”) by Amanda Araújo de Castro

and the winner is….

1. “Um Domingo na Laginha” (“A Sunday at Laginha”)  by César Augusto Medina Fortes

Congratulations!

Judges’ Awards 

As judges, we also wanted to recognize three pieces for their contributions to the contest.

Honorable Mention:
Anexo documental I” (“Documentary Appendix 1”) by Gabriel González Núñez
Judges’ Statement:
The Doctrine and Covenants teaches us that God gives us eternal truths in ways that reflect our own language and understanding. In this alternate history, Gabriel González Núñez uses striking imagery to help us to reach toward the eternal in the restoration by imagining the same truths unfolding in a different time and place. A vital contribution to Mormon literature–and the Mormon imagination.

Honorable Mention:
創造教室」 (“The Creation Workshop”) by Mitsushige Takaki
Judges’ Statement:
Mitsushige Takaki’s “Creation Workshop” stood out to us for receiving an even amount of votes from each language votes were cast in. By helping us imagine how our different personalities in the premortal existence might be reflected in the beautiful diversity of the natural world, Takaki gave us a story that resonated around the world and gave voice to the contest’s theme.

Judges’ Award Winner:
TIEMPO una partícula” (“TIME a particle”) by Citlalli H. Xochitiotzin
Judges’ Statement:
Christ’s Atonement is beyond the scope of human imagination, but Citlalli H. Xochitiotzin uses lyrical language to help us draw closer to this most vital of all moments. We feel nature cry out, sense time collapsing around its meridian, see the tendrils of empathy extending through centuries and around the world from a central point in the Garden before being snapped back into the moment, locked once again into the rhythm of each step as events fall forward toward Golgotha.

Reminder: Next Chance to Submit

If you enjoyed this contest, we’d love for you to submit to, or encourage others to submit to, our next contest, the 8th Annual Mormon Lit Blitz. Stories, essays, poems or other written works under 1,000 words are welcome. Email up to three entries to everydaymormonwriter@gmail.com.

“The Sound of Water”

Read the original Japanese version here. To discuss this and other finalists, visit Mormon Lit Lab.

“The Sound of Water”

written by Tokuzawa Aiko, translated by Andrew Hall

For the last twenty years I have been going to help clean at an old-age nursing home once a month. There are days when I am too busy to volunteer, but when I have a chance, I try to go, taking the opportunity learn and prepare for my own oncoming old age.

Today was one of the rare sunny winter days in the Hokuriku region, a nice day to do service. My husband and I worked together to clean a long corridor, me swinging a dusty mop, my husband sweeping. We are an elderly couple ourselves, and our turn to live in this nursing home may begin at any moment. So, while we are still healthy, it is a happiness to be able to clean up.

A sprightly-looking grandmother came towards us down the hallway. I called out to her, “You’re looking good today!” She came over and took both my hands in hers in a friendly greeting. But then she covered her face with both hands, and started sobbing. I was surprised–all I could think to do was to repeat my greeting and pat her on the shoulder. Then she planted an intense kiss on the back of my hand.

Oh, how lonely she was, how hungry for love. The pain of aging pierced my heart.

I remembered the haiku by Santōka, “Unescapable death, the sound of water.” In this world, there are many things we don’t understand until we age. Declining bodies, declining vigor, forgetfulness, and death itself are all moving towards us, and it breaks my heart. At that instant, I could hear with my spiritual ears the sound of water within her. It was like the drip-drip sound of water seeping out of a tap in a midnight-dark kitchen, enveloped in deep loneliness.

「 水音」徳沢愛子著

二十年ほど前から月一回老人ホームのお掃除に行っている。用事があって行けない日も あるが、そうでなければ自分の老後の学びの機会として、喜んで出かける。勿論ボランテ ィアである。

今日は北陸には珍しい冬晴れであった。奉仕活動するには良い日だった。夫と二人で出 かけた。長い廊下をモップがけする。埃がついたモップを払うと、夫がほうきで掃く。我々 老夫婦もいつ何時老人ホームにお世話になるかもしれない。元気のある今、お掃除できるしあわせ。 元気そうなおばあさんが廊下の向こうからやって来られた。「お元気ですねェ」、そう声をかけると、親しげに私の両手を握られた。次の瞬間、両手で顔を覆い、「くくっ」と泣か れたのである。私はびっくりした。

「お元気ですね」と声をかけ、肩に手をかけた、ただそれだけのことなのに。そうして 私の右手をとって、手の甲に強烈なチュッをしたのである。

ああ、そのおばあさんはこんなにも人恋しかったのだ。愛に飢えているのだ。老いるこ との切なさが私の胸にジンと迫った。

<みんな死んでしまうことの水音>山頭火の句を私は思い出した。世の中には、老いて みなければ、わからないことがいっぱいある。衰えていく肉体のこと、気力のこと、物忘 れのこと、近づく死のことなど、惻惻と迫ってくる。私はその時、霊の耳に彼女の心の水 音を聞いたのである。それは真夜中、暗い台所でぽとりぽとりと水道から漏れ落ちる水音 のような、深い孤独を纏っていた。

“The Creation Workshop” by Mitsushige Takaki

Read the original Japanese version here. To discuss this and other finalists, visit Mormon Lit Lab.

“The Creation Workshop”

written by Misushige Takaki, translated by Andrew Hall

Peta

Peta saw a flock of birds flying, and her eye focused on one that was particularly beautiful and strong.  Peta thought that the view this bird had of the world must be wonderful; the deep orange of the sky and the expansive earth beneath.

“Wow” she thought.

“Life is truly beautiful!”

 

1

“…and we will end class there for today.”

As Ms. Acacia spoke, the students left their daydreams and their surroundings reverted back to the white washed classroom they had been in when the class began.  Each of her students, from their own points of view, had experienced their own worlds during that class.  The teacher began to announce their homework.

“Please conjure a new creature.” she said.

They were to take one of the insects, fish or birds they had studied in class and think of a new, similar, but different creature.  Peta’s notebook was always full of drawings like this.

The problem is, she said to just come up with one new creature, one new life. But, of all of my animals, this one, that one, they are all so cuddly.  …and I can only pick one?  I can’t choose!  So…  Maybe, I’ll just put two of them together; a bird and a mole?  I like birds the most, so I’ll give it the head of a bird.  Maybe a hawk, or an eagle?  The rest of their body… the chest, abdomen, legs and feet will be from a mole.  Why a mole though?  Because they are cute and tough!  But, when I try putting them together, its head comes to too much of a point.  It looks strange.  Maybe if the bird’s beak was rounder and thicker?  The wings would be too weird though.  I’ll skip the wings?  Wait a second, then it can’t fly!  I guess I better go with an ordinary bird.

Peta took out her notebook to check again, when a small but distinct voice called out to her.

“I want to live!”

Huh?

Is there already an animal alive here?

Peta looked at the drawing of her flightless bird.  This thing is already alive.  But it’s a bird that can’t fly?  Maybe, it’s not even a bird at all?

“Please make me fly!” the drawing said.

I can hear its voice!  It sounds like a baby!  I’ll make it so it can swim through water.  Yeah, that’s like flying.  I’ll give it thick legs and feet like an otter.  No, even thicker and stronger than that.  I’ll give it webbed feet, too.  …and the head of a duck!  His beak has to be stouter though, wider than an actual duck’s.  This thing is weird, but I like it!  It’s stronger than it looks.  And it’s beautiful.

There, it’s done.

 

2

Peta’s classmates erupted in a roar of laughter when they saw her creation on the classroom board.  Michael, one of the class presidents, was wiping away tears of laughter.

“Is this a mole?  A duck?  Some kind of bird?  Tell me it’s not an otter, right?  It looks like all of them, but it isn’t any of them!” he jeered.

“Look, everyone else was able to do what they were assigned.” Michael said, pointing to the other students.  Peta saw that everyone else had indeed drawn animals that were easily distinguished; like white mice, or butterflies.  Some came up and proudly showed their drawings.  Others came up and simply gawked at Peta’s work.  A girl named Mel said, “That’s weird.”  There is no way a creature like that could exist.”

Most of the classmates were nodding along.  Then, Dan piped up.  “I can’t believe that something that ugly could live on this beautiful world” while pointing to the world globe that floated in the middle of the room.

The school where Peta and the other students sat was a place where worlds were created, the globe that Dan was pointing at was a new world that the students would help create.  This new world would be called Earth.  Once the students had grown up, they would be going there to live and experience life.  Besides people, there would be all kinds of other living things there as well.  Adults worked to create the new planet, as well as all the living things that would be on it.  But the children also got a chance to help.  Their homework was to create designs, some of which would be chosen and then created for the Earth.

“I worked so hard at making it!  It is sweet and beautiful and I tried to make it strong!” Peta said.

She lifted up her face.

“It’s NOT ugly and it’s NOT weird!  It’s beautiful and it will be able to live and thrive.  I could see and feel it as I designed her.  It’ll swim through water as though it were flying.”

But, everyone continued to mock her, so she turned away from them silently.

 

Ms. Acacia announced, “Class is done for the day, kids. I will show everyone’s hard work to the principal.”

She then turned to Peta.

“So what do you want to do?  If you want to change it, I can ask if the principal will give you another day.”

Peta silently handed her work to the teacher and she received it.

 

3

Their very last science class was about to begin.  After this next hour, they would be moving up to the next level school.  But before they could leave, their creations would have to be evaluated. Both Ms. Acacia and the principal, Mr. Erumi, were there. Mr. Erumi himself would be teaching their class this day. He stood in the center of a ring of seated students.

“I really enjoyed reviewing all of your science projects. However there was this one of them…”

He flattened out the rolled piece of paper in front of her chest so that everyone could see it.  Peta stopped breathing.  It was her picture.  Tiny clouds of laughter spread out through the classroom. She then thought she heard someone say, “Oh. we’re starting with the worst.”

“Eww.  It’s so weird.  Look at it!” another said.

Mr. Erumi looked at Peta and continued.

“So, I’ve decided that this should be the first one to be made.” he said and snapped his fingers.

Suddenly the white room turned aqua blue.  From the distance they could see a black dot, which began to come closer.  The point became a shadow, which sped towards and past the students.  Several startled children tried to jump out of the way of the speeding object.  The black shadow came back around and nabbed an unsuspecting fish.

“That was my fish… ” someone said.

Peta was so fascinated that she forgot to breathe.

“It’s alive!  It’s swimming.  No, it’s flying!” she said.

The image changed. Now the creature was at the water’s edge. It was not as fast, but it had a kind of elegance and the other students couldn’t help but start to like it.

Mr. Erumi was looking at Peta with a glimmer in his eyes.

“It doesn’t have a name yet. May I name it, Peta?” he asked.

Peta nodded in reply.

“Well, because it has bill like a duck (kamo no kuchibashi), lets abbreviate it and call it a kamo no hashi (platypus)!”

Peta thought that it deserved a cuter name, but Mr. Erumi looked very pleased with himself.

“So, it appears that we have come to a decision.” she said.

Ms. Acacia gave a wry smile as Ms. Erumi continued.

“Everyone else’s work was wonderful as well, but there was nothing surprising about them. The platypus surprised us. We adults have been creating new worlds for quite a while now. We’ve seen it all, we are hardly ever surprised anymore. But you students are different, your naiveté gives you potential. I thought you might do something surprising. Take this opportunity to learn from this experience, and use your fresh, new ideas. Even as you go on to higher tiers of education, please do not forget this occasion.”

The class came to an end.

 

Mr. Erumi spoke to Peta privately outside the classroom.

“Ms. Acacia told me about your many ideas for animals. We have an idea I think you’ll like. We’d like you to make more unique creatures for us. Don’t be afraid to surprise us. I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.”

 

4

Peta did not go on to the higher school with her classmates. Instead, she was given a position in the divine studio, working with the adults. She worked with them for a very long time. But, one day that work also came to an end; their planet had been created, and now she would be born onto it as living person. Peta was excited to go onto this planet and touch her creations, especially the platypus. She was sad though that she wouldn’t be able to meet another one of her creations, the saber-toothed tiger.

 

Before she left, she had to leave it up to her principal to put the finishing touches on her platypus. While she didn’t much like the venomous needle the principal gave it, she was happy with how it would lay eggs despite being a mammal.

Then, all of a sudden, she started to feel sleepy.

“While I go to the new world, the me-I-know will be asleep. Good-bye. I’ll be back…and when I do, I will make even more amazing things.” she thought to herself as she drifted off into mortality.

 

Akimi

Akimi opened her eyes at the laboratory.  She realized that she had fallen asleep at her desk.  She felt as though she had just had a dream that she had had once before, a very long time ago.

“What was this dream about? Oh. I can’t remember it now.” she thought to herself.

She was an adult, but you couldn’t tell it from how she was scratching her head with the tip of her pen while slurping cold coffee. She had fallen asleep while she was trying to write up a paper about her recent trip to Australia. As a biologist, Akimi had decided to study quirky and mysterious animals. She was particularly interested in the platypus. The males, despite looking cute and cuddly, hid poisonous spurs on their back legs. This always seemed a little off to Akimi.

She had studied the platypus for a long time. But, while her research hadn’t turned up anything new, she couldn’t tell her boss that. So, instead, she was going to dig a little deeper and find something new soon.

She happily looked at her life-sized figurine of her beloved platypus. She then looked at her picture of a tardigrade (or “water bear”) on the wall. She was fascinated by the way they moved. She had a wide variety of figurines, including a ridiculously large saber-tooth tiger and a rare kiwi bird. She enshrined them all over her area in the lab. Some even encroached into her colleagues’ work spaces. She even had some figures of paranormal creatures, like a kappa and a skyfish. There was also a traditional painting of a Nue, a Japanese mythical creature with the face of a monkey, the legs of a tiger, the body of a Japanese raccoon dog and the front half of a snake.

In other words, there were some weirds things here.

 

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you Peta.” said a familiar voice.

Akimi, startled, turned in her chair.  There was no one there.

「創造教室」 高木光茂

ペータは鳥が群れをなして飛ぶ光景を見ていました。
 また、一羽の鳥が飛ぶ姿はとても綺麗で力強いと思いました。
 飛んでいる鳥の目から見た、オレンジ色の空と大地はとても美しいものでした。
 そして、生きているという事は美しくて貴いと思うのです。
「今日の授業は、これでおわりです」
 アカシア先生が告げて、教室は白い部屋となりました。
 生徒達は疑似世界をそれぞれの視点で体験をしていたのです。
 その日、先生は宿題を出しました。
「新しい生き物を考えてきてください」って。今までに勉強してきた虫や魚や鳥などを参考にして、それぞれの種類の決まりに従って生き物を考えてくるのです。
 ペータのノートは新しい生き物の絵でいっぱいでした。
 だから問題があるのよ。
 一つだけなんだって。
 先生に出す宿題には一つの生き物だけ。
 わたしの考えてた動物たち。あれも、これもみんなかわいい。
 でもひとつだけなんだ。えらべないよう。
 だから……鳥ともぐらを合体させた。
 鳥が一番好きだから、頭を鳥にしてみた。
 猛禽類の鷹とか鷲の頭に胴体や手足はもぐら。
 なんでもぐらかって? かわいくて強そうでしょ?
 やってみると、鳥の頭だと鋭すぎて変だった。
 ならば、クチバシも丸く太くする。
羽は変だからなしにする。
 えっ待って? それじゃあ飛べないじゃないの。
 もう、普通の鳥にしようかなあ。
 そう思ってノートを見直していたとき、小さいけれど確かに声が聞こえたんだ。
(生きたい)って。
 もうこの生き物は私の中で生まれはじめている。
ううん。もう生きている。
 この鳥は飛べないのだろう。いえ、鳥ではなくなってしまうのかも知れない。
(でも飛ぶように)心に再びこの子の声が聞こえた。
 水の中を泳ぐ。ううん、飛ぶんだ。
 なら、かわうそのように足を太く。もっと太く強く。指の間に水かきをつけて。
 頭も鴨のように。もっともっとずんぐりにする。くちばしだって、太く大きく。
 なんだか変だけど、かわいい。でも、見かけよりずっと強そう。
 それに綺麗だと思う。
 うん。できたよ。
 ペータの絵が教室のボードに張り出された時、教室は爆笑の渦となりました。
 しばらくして、クラス委員のミカエルが笑いすぎて流れてしまった涙をふきながら言いました。
「これはモグラなのかい? 鴨?というか鳥なのかい? かわうそじゃないよね? そのどれかみたいだけど、どれでもない」
 そして、
みんなは言われた通りに生き物の種類に従って作ってきてるんだよ。ほら」
 ミカエルは周りにいる子らを促しました。
 みんなは、それぞれに白いねずみやちょうちょなど、一目で種類がわかる絵をかかえています。絵を得意げにペータに見せている子もいます。「へへん」という顔をした子もいました。
 そしてメルという女の子が
「そんな化け物みたいな生き物なんておかしいよ。変だよ」
と言いました。
 教室の子のほとんどがうなずいています。
 ダンという子が言いました。
「この美しい世界にそんなみにくい変な生き物はいらない!」
 そういうと教室の中央に浮かぶ青い球体を指さします。
 そうです。
 これから新しい世界が創られ、星が置かれるのです。その星は地球と呼ばれます。彼らが成長したときに、地球へ行って生きて様々な経験をするのです。
 地球には人間だけではなく様々な生き物がいます。
 大人の人達が、地球だけではなくそこで生きる生物を創りあげているのです。
 この宿題はそのお手伝いでもありました。
 優れた生物は実際に創られ地球に送られることになっています。
 ペータはそれを望んでいました。
(わたしは真剣にこの生き物を創造してきた。この子は可愛いし美しいと思うし、生きていく強さも込めたつもり)
 ペータは顔を上げた。
「みにくくない。変でもない。この子はきっと地球で強く生きていける。そして綺麗よ。わたしは見たもの。感じたもの。この子は水の中を飛ぶように泳ぐわ」
 でも、ペータに届くのは否定する声ばかりでした。やがて、ペータは黙ってしまいました。
 アカシアが、
「授業は終わりよ。皆さんの作品は校長先生にお渡しして見ていただきます」
 そしてペータの方を向いて、
「この作品はどうする? 直すつもりなら特別に校長先生にお願いして、明日まで提出を伸ばしてもらいます」
 ペータは作品を先生に黙って差し出しました。
 アカシアは黙って受け取りました。
 最後の理科の授業が始まりました。
 これからペータたちは一つ上の学校に行きます。
 その前に生徒達が創った作品を評価するための時間があるのです。
 教室にはアカシア先生のほかにエルミ校長がいます。
 今日は特別な校長先生の授業です。
 丸く囲んで座った生徒達の中央に立ったエルミは、
「あなたたちの理科の作品を楽しく見せていただきました。中でも……これ」
 そして、丸めた作品を胸の前で広げてみんなに見えるようにしました。
 ペータは息が止まりそうになりました。
 あの子の絵だったのです。
 周りからは、くすくすと笑い声が聞こえています。
(まず一番駄目な作品からかあ)という声がペータには聞こえたように思いました。
「いやーっ。面白いねぇー。これ」
 ペータを見てエルミは続けます。
「だから、創ってみることにしたんだよ」
 そしてパチンと指を鳴らしました。
 一瞬にして白い部屋は水中の青い色で満たされます。
 そして向こうから黒い点が近づいてきます。
 それは点から影となって猛スピードで、皆の前に迫ってきて通り過ぎきました。
 子供達はその突進を避けるように動いていました。
 また、黒い影が背後から飛び出すと、いつの間にか現れていた魚をくわえて持っていってしまいました。
「ぼくの創った魚が……」
 ペータは息をすることも忘れてそれに見入っていました。
(あの子が生きてる。泳いでる。ううん、飛んでいるんだ)
 映像が変わりました。
 水辺でのそのそと動くのはあの子でした。
 速い動きではないけれど愛嬌があって可愛いとみんなは思ってしまったのです。
「これの名前がまだないですね。わたしがつけてもいいですか?」
 エルミは目を輝かせてペータを見ました。
 ペータは嬉しそうな校長先生の迫力に押されてうなずいてしまいました。
「鴨のクチバシみたいだから略して、カモノハシではどうでしょうか」
 ペータとしてはもっと可愛い名前が良かったのだが、エルミは顔色を察することなどしません。
「じゃあ、決まりですね」
 向こうでアカシアが苦笑いをしています。
「他の皆さんの作品も素晴らしかったですよ。それでも驚きはありませんでした」
 でも、
「カモノハシには驚きました。私たち大人は、新しい世界で生きて帰ってきました。それからも多くの世界を創ってきました。もうそこから新しい驚きなど滅多にありません。知ってしまっているからですね。でも、あなたたちは違います。未熟さは可能性でもある。だから我々を驚かす発想をしてくれるのではないかと思いました。それでも無茶苦茶では意味がない。だから節目の今だから学んだことを活かしつつも、未熟さも発揮していただけるようにとこのような機会を用意させていただいたのです」
 最後に
「皆さん上の学校に行っても、そのことは忘れないでください」
 授業は終わりました。
 教室を出たペータにエルミがそっと、
「たくさんの生き物のアイディアがあるんですってね。アカシア先生から聞きました。だから欲張りなあなたにプレゼントです。特別にもう一種類の生き物を創造してください。また我々を驚かせてくださいね。楽しみにしていますよ」
 ペータは上の学校には行きませんでした。
 そのまま大人達にまじって神の工房で生き物を創造する仕事に就いたのです。
 それも今日で終わりです。
 新しい世界に旅立つときがきたのです。
 地球に産まれるのです。生きた人として。
 そこでは創った生き物を見て触ることができますし、カモノハシだっています。
 ペータはわくわくしています。
 だけど、残念なことに、ここで創った生き物で最高傑作だと思っているサーベルタイガーには会えません。
 それにしても校長先生にカモノハシの仕上げをお任せしたのだけれど、毒針なんか仕込んでしまいました。ほ乳類なのに卵で殖えるという追加の設定はお気に入りなんだけどね。
 ああ、眠くなってきた。
 新しい世界に行く時、ここのわたしは眠ることになるの。
 じゃあね。ばいばい。
 ここに戻ったらもっと凄いの創ってやるんだから。
 亜紀美は研究室の机で目を覚ました。
 なつかしい夢を見ていたような気がする。
「なんだったかな。あーっ。思い出せない」
 適齢期の女性にあるまじきボサボサの髪をボールペンでかきつつ、冷えてしまったコーヒーをすする。
 オーストラリアから帰ったばっかりで論文を書いていて眠ってしまったのだった。
 亜紀美は生物学者としても風変わりで脈絡なく生物を選んで研究してきた。
 今回もカモノハシをたっぷり見てきた。見かけによらずカモノハシの雄には毒針があった。(なんだか違和感あったなあ。あれ、違うというか)
 研究の成果はと言われても何だったんだろうと思うしかない。上司には言えないが。近いうちに何かでっち上げよう。
 唯一の成果といえば、実物大のカモノハシの精巧なフィギュアを手に入れたことぐらいだろうか。
 壁一面にクマムシの拡大された写真が貼ってある。目下の亜紀美の興味はクマムシに移りつつあった。
 ばかでかいサーベルタイガーや珍鳥キウイなどのフィギュアが所狭しと同僚達の居場所を侵略しつつ鎮座していた。なぜかカッパやスカイフィッシュのフィギュアもある。向こうには鵺の日本画もある。要するに妖しいものもありなのである。
「相変わらすだね。ペータちゃん」
 ふと懐かしい声を背後から聞いたようで振り向いてみたが、深夜の研究室には誰もいなかった。

“Shaken” by Jhasmin De Castro

Read the original Tagalog version here. To discuss this and other finalists, visit Mormon Lit Lab.

“Shaken”

by Jhasmin De Castro
translated by Joar Guitierrez

“Doctor, will my daughter be okay?” asked the woman, the worry in her voice obvious.

“Yes, Mrs. Mendoza, she’ll be okay within in a week. We just need to observe her condition for now.” the doctor replied.

After checking the young woman’s condition, the doctor went out. The woman held her daughter’s hand and caressed it. “My daughter, I’m sorry,” the woman choked out through her tears. “Sorry if we neglected you. Your dad and I were always busy—that’s why we can’t care for you. Sorry, my daughter, if you ever felt that you were unloved and alone.”

In a little while, Vlaire woke up and saw her mother crying while holding her hand. For a moment, she just looked at her mother and wondered why she was crying—until Vlaire remembered what she had done.

Blank. That was all she felt when she did it. She didn’t feel anything. She didn’t feel even the slightest pain. She was thinking: why did her life end this way?
Why, instead of feeling happy that her mother is by her side, can’t she feel anything now? Is this how it is when you are used to being sick? To the point that…you just think to commit suicide or slash your own wrist just to feel something?

Every time she remembers that part, she feels like she’s waking up from a nightmare. She can remember all the painful memories: sadness and pain. Feeling like she lost the drive to live. When her parents started working so much and started having all their problems, she slowly changed. She slowly became melancholic and avoided her friends. But she kept all her problems to herself and never told anybody.

Depressed. That’s what she was feeling during those times. She grew sad, grew secretive and kept the pain tucked tight to herself. But was she right with her decision? To keep everything to herself—everything she was feeling even though it was hurting so much?

Vlaire thought of all these things while staring out into nothingness. After a while, her mother said she would go out of the room while the nurse brought in food. Vlaire was still staring into nothingness. She didn’t know what she would do. After the nurse set down the food, Vlaire could hear her mother asking the nurse questions outside the door.

The nurse came back and looked at the wounds in Vlaire’s wrists…while Vlaire remembered those nights.

Someone was knocking on her door. “
Ate…” Her sibling was calling to her.

Ate, please eat now…” Her sibling was saying, but she didn’t pay attention.
She was just crying that night while she slowly cutting herself. Nothing. She did not feel anything.

A little later, her friends came in to the hospital room and asked how she was doing. Even though she was not responding, her friends kept on telling her stories about what was happening in school. After a while, they all said goodbye.

That’s what her life was like for a week. Eat, sleep, be visited and asked how she’s been doing—by her friends or sometimes by her younger siblings with her mama and papa.

As soon as she looked okay, the doctors discharged her and sent her back home. One doctor advised her to consult a psychiatrist to help her with her condition. As soon as they arrived home, she went straight to her room to be by herself and locked herself in. She silently lay down while staring at the ceiling: she didn’t know what to do and so she started crying again. She couldn’t tell if she’d been happy when her friends visited her, because all she knew was that right now she was so sad and felt so lost.

A little later, she heard someone knock on her door. She wiped her tears away and opened it.

“The missionaries are downstairs and are asking how you are doing,” her mother said.

“Okay, I’ll come down. Just give me a minute,” she said and went to the bathroom to wash her face and comb her hair.

Eventually, she went down and asked how the missionaries were doing. That afternoon, they had family home evening and had dinner together with the missionaries.

“So, Sister, are you already okay?” asked Sister Casas. Vlaire nodded her head in reply.

“Sister, just pray and do not lose hope,” Sister Casas’ companion, Sister Mac, said. “A lot of people love you.”

Vlaire just smiled even though she knew her smile was fake.

After the dinner with the missionaries was over, the missionaries said goodbye.

“Okay sisters, take care!’ said Vlaire’s sister Xiara as she waved.

“Take care,” Vlaire’s father said while shaking hands. “Thank you for visiting us.”

Before the missionaries left, Sister Mac handed her a letter. Vlaire wondered what it was, but the missionary sister just smiled at her and walked away with her companion. When the missionaries left, she went up to her room and read Sister Mac’s letter.

Dear Sister Vlaire,


I know you are suffering and feel like you are alone. I know how you feel because I’ve experienced that as well…I used to be bullied in my school and I was a loner: I didn’t have friends and my classmates didn’t like me either. Every lunch time, I sat in the corner and ate by myself. Until one day…I gave up, and I tried to kill myself.

I was so depressed then—but with the help of the missionaries and my family, I was able to endure this trial. But only because of their help and because of one missionary who took time for me and told me to pray—and do you know what finally happened? I felt happy and at peace. I was amazed and that time my testimony grew because of that experience.

Sister Vlaire, I know that you are not alone and that Heavenly Father is there to ease your burdens. Keep praying and have faith.


Love,


Sister Mac

That time, Vlaire prayed and at last, she felt happiness and peace. Even though she felt shaken with her testimony before, she was glad to know that she wasn’t alone, and that Heavenly Father is always there for her.

Now that she’s going to serve her mission, she is happy that she didn’t lose her testimony and she is happy to serve God.