Its existence remains unknown to most people, but there is a green lagoon, hidden away by the old lush trees, just beside the main road that circles Macau’s most isolated island, Coloane.

Green...?

No, that's not right, it's not really green.

It’s more like… Turquoise. Yes, that’s it. A gleaming turquoise, as if the blue waters have been slowly seeping the green from the falling leafs for thousands of years and now the lagoon is an uncertain blend of trees, ocean and sky. That would be the most obvious explanation, of course, but that is not the truth behind its origin. Its origin has been lost somewhere along the vast shores of the unrelenting river of time and can now only be heard by those who can understand the whispers of the trees and, I can assure you, seldom do the trees sing that song, for the lagoon is the ending paragraph of a tale of an almost unbearable sadness.

It is this tale that I shall share with you today. It's not only about the turquoise lagoon, but also about the island's luscious green forests and black sand beaches, and most of all, about a very special girl with silver hair, the color of moonbeams.

So sit back, make yourself comfortable and let me see if I can still remember how it goes.

Hundred of years ago, no more than forty families lived in what is now known as the village of Coloane. Life was harsh back then. The terrain was too rugged for proper agriculture and nearly every family lived from the bounty out of the sea. Wooden boats, fishing poles and fishing nets were more precious to them than silver and gold.

Chau family was one of the poorest. The husband was Kim. A slim man, with dark eyes and the wisp of a charcoal-black fuzzy beard dangling from his chin that he used to stroke whenever he was gathering his thoughts. The wife was Sam. She had long light-brown hair and big honey-colored eyes that were flaked with specks of gold whenever she was out beneath the sunlight. Their house was no more than a weather-beaten shack with a thatch roof and a worn-out blanket for a door but, inside, a small fireplace and the affection they had for each other was enough to keep them warm throughout the nights. In spite of this, there was an enduring taint in this otherwise unblemished love, as Sam had been somewhat dispirited for years, because she had always been unable to bare children. Yet, with each passing year, she would do her best to occupy that vacuum in her heart with the love from her husband.

One night, she was dreaming of the moon, when she was woken by a strange wail coming from outside.

Stray cats, probably.

The commotion was scaring away her sleep, so she got up from the bed to shoo the cats away. When she pushed aside the blanket to the outside, she almost fainted to see the tiniest baby on the other side of the threshold.

Am I dreaming still?

The white light of the full moon reflected on the baby's pale skin, but even more so on an odd long mane of silky silver hair, that flowed through the dirt ground like a river of stars. For a moment Sam did not know what to do and just stood there bewildered, looking around for whoever could have left the child there, but she got no more answers than the soft whisper of the night breeze.

Is this a joke?

Since no one else was around, Sam instinctively took the baby into her arms and cuddled her against her breasts, which immediately tamed her cries and made her snuggle deeper into Sam's chest.

How fulfilling it feels, just holding her in my arms.

"Kim! Kim!", she whispered to the inside, trying not to affright the baby.

The silver hair that cascaded almost all the way down to the floor, made the reflections of the moonlight dance in the blackened walls of the night.

Kim appeared from the dimmed interior in his small clothes, rattled by the calls and dazed from the sleep. He blinked his eyes a couple of times to assure himself that they were not playing tricks on him and was also, comprehensively, mystified by the presence of the baby and her odd silver hair. As he took her tiny white hand into his big, callused hand, her grip was loosened and a small piece of paper dropped from her hand to the floor. Perplexed, Kim picked it up and found that there were characters inside, but he couldn't read. He showed it to Sam, but she just looked back at him. Puzzled, they took the baby inside and with no other option but to make her the most comfortable they possibly could and she slept silently between them until the first sunbeam leaked through the window, lighting up the faint speckles of golden dust that fluttered through the room.

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(End of Part 1/4)

Part 2 of this short story:
https://steemit.com/artzone/@whymonkey/the-flowers-of-the-moon-short-story-part-2-4