Away From Sea and Washed To Shore
by Stephanie Galanos
19-25 years | 2nd Place
It was midday and yet Quinn felt like she was dragged out of bed with no time to brace spending the next hour in a room with a stuffy, sweaty odour that opened windows and blazing fans could not shoo away. Unable to stand the strain in her neck, she tentatively lifted her head, gazing towards the large circular table where other children sat, digging through whatever craft supplies that piled in the middle.
Among the babbling of murmurs, clicking, and tapping, Quinn saw books upon books that seem to continue through the second floor. An endless sea that Quinn could get lost in. She squirmed at the idea. She thought things were much simpler at home where she can easily navigate this or that. But since she moved away, it was as though the tough steady ground she relied upon for years just suddenly turned into water.
Quinn remembered when she was a toddler, clinging onto her dad’s leg, shrieking over how violent crashing waves were at the beach. That’s how she felt now.
Quinn looked back to the cutting and pasting, folding and unfolding at the table. At her old home’s school library, she’d chortle with her friends, pick up manga or picture books and swoon over how hot this character was or snort over how distorted the drawings looked. But now, she felt restrained to the chair, barely lifting a finger to pick up even one sheet of paper.
After moving to Springvale, Quinn spent her time indoors, shutting herself in her new room with new white walls where not an imperfectly perfect crack of paint was in sight. She wanted to disassociate from everything but couldn’t escape yearning for even her old room’s chipped paint.
Quinn knew how warmer her bed felt, how much more food was on her plate, how more spacious her house was in Springvale, but she couldn’t shake away the hollowness in her heart.
Suddenly, she snapped back to her surroundings when she heard a young voice ask, “Are you okay?”
She turned to the sound, meeting another young girl.
Quinn flushed, "Yeah… I’m just new here."
“Oh okay.” The girl giggled and introduced herself as Shu.
Shu revealed she came out of choice and laughed about how the air conditioning was much worse at home. Quinn told her how different Springvale was to her old suburb from the way restaurants looked, the cafes, to even the streets.
She reminisced over the beach that was not too far from her old house. She longed to stand on the shore until her legs ached, lulled by the sea where waves would crash and fold into each other. Any tenseness Quinn felt in her body washed away at the sight. It came to a point where not even a shout can snap her out of such a state.
“That sounds wonderful! I’ve never been to the beach before- okay, once, but that was years ago.” Shu beamed.
“Yeah,” Quinn sighed, feeling the tenseness in her neck come again, which slowly spread throughout her body. Her lips contorted to a frown.
Before Shu could yap on, she noticed how slumped Quinn looked in her chair.
“I know what that’s like,” Shu said. “Y’know, moving.”
Shu revealed she was only nine when her family decided to move away from China for greater opportunity. She couldn’t complain, knowing her parents wanted what’s best. But it also meant saying goodbye to the gentle elderly woman who secretly gave Shu sweets, the children she’d laugh and run around with after school, and even the rickety cobbled stairs that lead to her home.
When Shu felt the same aching as Quinn, she’d sometimes visit the local noodle bar, indulging herself in the silky warm broth, the bouncy texture of noodles, or chew into the braised meat toppings until her stomach could no longer hold any food.
Despite living in Australia for a few years, those dishes eased Shu’s longing for China, bringing back memories of food vendors her family would frequent when she was a toddler.
Quinn listened eagerly and surprisingly, felt her stomach rumble at the thought of food she never had before. For the first time, Quinn saw how spacious the library was. And with every glance, she saw shelves of books, people reading, some chatting away with friends, or people intensely scratching away at their notebooks.
Quinn wanted to roam around, climb the staircases and browse each shelf the library has to offer. She wanted to swim deeper beyond the shore and explore cultures completely foreign to her.
Quinn’s pocket rang and she reached for the phone, seeing her mum’s name on screen. Her brows furrowed, knowing clearly well what it meant. But she didn’t want to leave the circular table or her new friend.
Quinn excused herself from the table and picked up.
“Hey Mum? Is it okay if I stay a tad bit longer?” Quinn chewed on the inside of her cheek until her mum sighed a “yes.”
Quinn felt her shoulders soften and gave a meek smile, exchanging her name as the girl looked kind enough. It felt like ages since she talked to another kid as her recent company was just the plaster that remained placid on the walls when she’d crack a joke.
She hung up, feeling the ground beneath her become tough and steady. And suddenly, she realised how relaxed her shoulders and neck were. She felt herself dry from sweat as the room no longer smelled stuffy.
Quinn studied the walls around her. Plaster that no longer resembled the dry and cracked chambers that encased her.
She eyed back to the circular table where her sight crossed Shu’s. She grinned and strode back to her seat, cutting through the sea that once held her fixed.