Gaia Girls Way of Water

by Lee Welles

  Up for air, then the exercise was repeated. And again. And again. And again. Then, just when Miho was beginning to wonder what this lesson was meant to teach, the lesson changed. She received one quick image and the click-whistle combination, together. In her mind’s eye, she saw the dolphin swim. She understood. This was a sort of dolphin verb, an action. That particular image, combined with the click, whistle meant, “Swim!” They went up for air.

  Then the dolphins sent her “dolphin” and a “whistle, buzz, click.” She shook her head no. She didn’t know how else to say, “Wakarimasen” or “I don’t understand.” They sent her the same combination and then did something unexpected. They raced for the surface and all four of them, Miho included, went rocketing up into the air!

  She let go of the fin and yelled, “Whoooah!” before she tucked her chin to turn her descent into a dive instead of a belly smack. She got it! She understood! Whistle, buzz, click meant, “Jump!”

  The lags taught her image/click combinations for, “turn,” “slow,” and “fast.” She understood! But she still had no idea how to speak. Could she take a sonar scan, turn it around, and send it back out with the right clicks or whistles?

  She tried. Miho scanned the dolphin with the notched dorsal fin and when the image returned, she took that picture and sent it back out. The reaction was immediate. All three of her companions raced to the circle of light above and burst into the air, buzzing, laughing. She had done it—she spoke!

  26

  Hurry

  When the group returned Miho to the cove with the mermaid chair, her brain was full to bursting. She had learned to listen. She had begun to learn to speak. And, she had figured out it was a lot like Japanese. The dolphins’ combination of image and sound presented an idea that was much like kanji—a shape that had, folded within it, multiple other words or ideas. Perhaps, as she learned from Sensei, she would be better able to learn from her dolphin-sensei. Notch, she thought. That’s a good name. What else do you call someone with a notched dorsal fin?

  Miho collected her backpack and headed back to Ojisan’s. Good smells from within the house reached her before she reached the gate. She removed her shoes, slid on her slippers, and stepped over the threshold.

  Sensei was already seated at the low table and motioned for her to sit. His daughter Tomiko appeared carrying several serving bowls. She also carried a scowl on her face. She set the bowls down and pivoted back to the kitchen. Miho followed and helped deliver the rest of the food to the table. After they all said, “Itadakamas,” the room became silent and stayed that way. But unsaid things swirled around. Anytime Miho caught Tomiko’s eye, she had a tight, small smile on her face. Miho could tell it was a mask of politeness.

  When they were done, Miho didn’t ask, but just began to clear off the table.Tomiko and Sensei had a low, quiet conversation. Miho pretended not to understand, but she did.

  “Why do you care about this gaijin?” Tomiko hissed.

  “Why do you not care? She is Ama. She is Goza,” Sensei said.

  Tomiko opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. She obviously knew the rules of being Japanese better than Miho.

  “You have never been an outsider,” Sensei said. “It is difficult. It takes courage.”

  Miho was surprised that she understood the conversation so well. It was as if Gaia had opened a new pathway in her mind. She felt more open to language and all the ideas and feelings it carried. Sensei finished by saying something along the lines of, “If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all!”

  As Miho washed the dishes, she heard Tomiko leave. Miho couldn’t decide whether or not she was happy she had understood their conversation. Although it was cool that she could understand the Japanese, she didn’t like them arguing about her. Miho thought of Sensei as her friend as well as her teacher. She had felt adrift for so long; she just wanted a place to come ashore, to be on solid ground.

  When she had the last dish cleaned and put away, she went out to Sensei. “Thank you for having dinner ready. Please tell Tomiko-san I am grateful and would like to repay her for such a kindness. Tomorrow, you will be my guests and I will make the dinner.”

  Miho clamped her hand over her mouth. The words had simply tumbled out, in Japanese, without her knowing all the words or planning what to say. It was as if some language switch in her brain was flipped into the “on” position.

  Sensei laughed, rose, and went out into the night, still chuckling.

  Miho was left standing in a quiet and empty house, thoroughly confused and just a little bit afraid. She focused her mind on the courage kanji and got ready for bed. It was hard to believe that this was only her first full day alone in Goza. So much had happened and she really hadn’t been alone at all!

  She pulled her futon down and Shinju out. She whispered to the stuffed dolphin all she had learned that day. She taught Shinju what real dolphins say to mean “swim” and “jump.” As she taught her small, stuffed friend, it solidified everything that she had learned.

  That night, her dreams were a swirling, crazy creation, made out of all the things her young mind was struggling to understand. She dreamed her mother spoke Dolphinese and told her about a big rogue wave that was coming, coming, coming. Miho, clutching her stuffed dolphin, ran along an unknown shoreline, looking for the dream-wave so she could warn her parents. She ran into Sensei, who was laughing and pointing to the sea. “You Ama,” the dream-Sensei said. But he turned to leave before Miho could ask any questions.

  While she was looking at Sensei’s retreating back, the rogue wave came up behind her. But it didn’t crash over her head. White, curling Hokusai wave fingers reached over her shoulder and plucked her stuffed dolphin from her arms! Miho raced after the wave that was now drawing back into the endless ocean. Tears streamed down her face as she watched her beloved companion get caught in a riptide. She wanted to yell out as she watched Shinju get swept away from the shore. But in that dream way, her voice didn’t work. The small, gray shape was a mere dot in the vast, dark blue.

  But then the real dolphins came. They came and sported and leapt and laughed until she waded into the surf with them. In their dolphin language, they told her they were happy to have her with them, that the sea needed a voice in the world.

  They began to cheer, “Here she comes! Here she comes!” Gaia arrived. Miho begged the dream-Gaia to give her a tail and a dorsal fin and the lovely white stripes so that she could truly be part of her new family. Gaia shook her round, whiskered face and pointed back to shore. There stood Ojisan, his hand shading his eyes, peering toward the horizon.

  “You have family, my dear. He is Ama too. Listen and learn and take your tale to him. Hurry. The sea and the rivers and the rain are my very blood and there is poison within. Hurry. After you learn, you will be able to meet the others and the real work will begin.”

  Miho sat up fast and hard. Sweat ran down her spine and dripped into the small of her back. Her breathing was fast and ragged, and her heart thrummed with a deep ache. She had Shinju clutched in one fist.

  Looking down at the raggedy creature, Miho said, “We gotta hurry, Shinju. Ojisan will be back this weekend and I think something is gonna happen. I gotta be ready. I…” but Miho couldn’t think what it was she had to do. “I gotta learn,” was all she could think of. She rolled over and lost herself to the sound of the endless waves crawling to Goza’s shore.

  27

  Shinju

  The sun rose large and fierce. The earth quickly reached its limit to absorb heat and was radiating it back to the sky as Miho made her way to Sensei’s Shodo lesson. There was not a puff of wind and the sea barely rippled. The only waves reaching Goza were the ones made by the moon’s endless tug on the rim of the earth.

  The weather seemed to match the sense of prelude that Miho’s dream had generated. Something was coming. She felt it in her bones, and it seemed as if the sea felt it too.

  As before, Sensei was in the garden. A
s before, he asked her what she needed. As before, she said, “kimo.” She felt that no matter what happened, courage would come in handy. Without courage, any other quality would be useless.

  So again, her brush endlessly followed the strokes of the kanji and a resolve began to form in her belly. She dipped and drew her brush across the rice paper and drew the sense of courage deep within her.

  She was startled when Sensei placed his gnarled hand on her wrist. “Enough,” he said in Japanese. She looked up at his lined face and the seriousness she saw there looked like…courage. She didn’t ask why it was enough. She knew.

  “Hai,” she said and took her things to the sink for cleaning. As she methodically removed the blackness from her brush and stone, she saw Sensei out of the corner of her eye. He was holding up her last kanji with one hand and stroking his chin with the other. After a time, he smiled, nodded, and took it to his desk.

  Again, lunch was on the step of the classroom. Again, Sensei and Miho ate in silence, looking at the lotus flowers, both lost in their own thoughts. When they were done, Sensei rose and said, “I am looking forward to the meal you will prepare for my daughter and me.” He raised his eyebrows slightly.

  Miho understood this to be his polite way of reminding her. “The pleasure is mine, Sensei. All will be ready at 6 pm.” Again, she was surprised at the easy way the polite, honorific, Japanese flowed from her. “Sayonara,” she said and bowed and left.

  This time, when she went to the mermaid cove, the lags were waiting for her! She laughed and waved and started to call out, “Ohayo.” But what came from her mouth was a squeal and a click!

  The dolphins were ecstatic and the cove exploded with leaping, twisting, rolling gray, black and white. Miho was shocked, but only for a moment. Perhaps the way Japanese was becoming natural, so was Dolphinese. She dove.

  That day, the pod took her to a bay further down the coast. As they traveled, Miho began to understand the endless whistles, clicks, squeals and squeaks around her. The lags were doing what a group of people would do as they walked along together. They made observations of what was around them and they chatted.

  Images flew from side to side as they streaked along. They showed each other the jellyfish and the boats and the debris they detected. At one point, an image of a shark, a tiger shark, shot about the group and everyone rearranged so that the babies and their mothers were in the middle.

  Three young males sped off to the west and when they returned, they shared the images, the story, of how they bullied the shark away. Miho laughed and the lags around her laughed back. They seemed as happy to have this new creature to speak to as she was to be able to hear.

  Miho didn’t want to go too far that day. It was important that she have plenty of time to make dinner for Sensei and Tomiko. Miho managed to show the baby’s mother, (who Miho began to think of as ‘Star’ because of a small five-pointed blotch of white on her dorsal fin) an image of the setting sun.

  Miho did her best to follow the image as it was passed around the group. It moved lightning quick, and there were many other squeals and buzzes and commentary. She just couldn’t follow. But it didn’t matter; she had made herself understood.The pod delivered her back to the mermaid cove long before the sun hit the horizon.

  When they arrived, the pod slowed and rested. Miho floated on her back, because it was the easiest thing for her. She heard a sound that somehow got translated in her mind as, “Why?”

  The baby she had met the day before was beside her. It too was resting, but belly down, because its blowhole was positioned on its back. Miho’s mouth and nose, on the other hand were most definitely on her front! And that is what she told the little gray dolphin.

  The young Pacific white-side hadn’t yet developed the distinctive white suspender stripes down its sides and was instead, a pearly gray, like stuffed Shinju. Miho began to think of her as another Shinju. To show this new Shinju why she floated on her back, she puckered her lips and blew skyward. Shinju blew from her blowhole.

  Miho rolled face down in the water and blew bubbles into the deep. Shinju rolled onto her back and let out a very nice bubble stream. They did this, all the while looking into each other’s eyes. Shinju’s mother circled around them and occasionally brushed her pectoral fin against one of them.

  Miho had an inspiration. She did the fastest clicking she could, almost a buzz, and saw the sound return as an image of the little Shinju. Then she held that image and sent it back as more clicks with her best attempt at the whistle, click for “jump.”

  Shinju took off like a rocket ship to the surface and not only jumped, but did a complete flip in the air! Her new little friend understood! When Miho spoke again, she did her best to say, “Swim and find oysters with pearls?” She knew that most of them didn’t understand, but one young lag did. He thrust his dorsal fin into Miho’s hand and tugged her down.

  She could clearly hear the intense buzzing of his sonar and did her best to see the returning image. He honed in on an oyster and pulled Miho directly to it. She tugged the oyster from its moorings and they shot to the surface.

  Shinju swam over to her so Miho ducked under to speak. She did her best to send the image of the rocks ahead of them and the click/whistle combination for swim. Shinju pushed her small dorsal into Miho’s hand and tugged her to the rocks. Miho was so happy she could talk to her new friend! She climbed out and pounded open the oyster. Inside there was, indeed, a pearl. Miho tucked it into her pocket and then turned to face the cove.

  Bobbing in the swell were twenty or thirty of these amazing creatures. Miho’s heart swelled up with love and gratitude. She was part of a group; they didn’t care that she was gaijin. They were teaching her, talking to her, and listening to her. She never doubted that she would be brought up for her next breath. This family would care for her in the dark, cold world of the open ocean.

  28

  Gaijin Green

  Part of her wanted to sit in the marvelous stone chair, watch the tide pull out, and relive all the amazing events of that day. But Sensei would be coming. Sensei AND Tomiko! The last thing Miho wanted to do was give that woman another reason to frown at her. After all, she did provide Miho with a meal the day before. This was the polite way to return a kindness.

  Miho ran all the way back to Ojisan’s house. She showered off the salt water, changed into clean clothes, and hit the kitchen. The rice cooker was humming and the wok was popping with bits of ginger and shrimp when her guests arrived.

  Surprisingly, they both complimented her cooking! Miho felt her cheeks grow hot. She also thought of the pod of dolphins that did their leaping, sporting dance in celebration of her ability to talk to them. It was turning out to be a pretty good day.

  When they were done, Tomiko even said, “Gochisosama,” something her father used to say to her mother. It means “it was a feast,” and is a compliment to the cook! Tomiko said she had to return to stock the shelves. It was the first time Miho had considered the hard work that was involved in keeping a store like that. She thanked Tomiko for coming and then had an idea.

  From her pocket, Miho pulled the single pearl she had found that day. She handed it to the open-mouthed woman. “I am grateful for all the kindness you have shown me,” Miho said, her eyes respectfully downcast. “You are generous to share your father’s time with me. I am in your debt.”

  Tomiko shut her mouth, shook her head and swallowed. She closed the pearl in her fist and said, “You are always welcome in my home.” Then she blushed, bowed quickly, and left.

  Sensei smirked in that small, still way of his. Miho began to clear the table and wondered if he would leave too. “So, what adventure did you dive into today?” the old man asked.

  Miho was taken aback. How did he know she had dived anywhere? “Na wakarimasen,” she said, her old, familiar, “I don’t understand.” He just shook his head and left, humming a little tune. Miho really didn’t understand him sometimes.

  That evening, as she washed her face, M
iho discovered something strange. When she lifted her dripping face up and looked into the mirror over the sink, her eyes were dark brown!

  Miho leaned in closer and saw the brown-ness fade, returning her eyes to their old gaijin-green. She did this again and again, wondering why her eyes would look different after being in the water. It must mean they’re different in the water! she thought.

  Miho filled the sink, made sure the cap of the toothpaste was on tight, and then pushed the tube to the bottom. She then put her face in the water, eyes open. She could read every word! It was as if she were wearing a diving mask.

  Now that she thought about it, while she traveled with the lags, she could see remarkably well, when there was enough sunlight! Miho tried a few more times, confirming this new skill, watching the mirror each time she came up.

  Part of her wished her eyes could stay dark brown, and then maybe she wouldn’t look so foreign. But then again, the green was a gift from her father. She was grateful that it would be with her always.

  The following hot, sweltering day was much the same. Sensei asked her what she needed. She said courage. But he told her no, that courage was hers—what else? She thought about her strange life, the way she was learning two new worlds, two new languages. So she finally told him she needed ‘understanding.’

  Old Mr. Tomikoro raised his eyebrows and told her this was a very wise answer.“Satoru satori,” he said quietly. Miho thought it was good she had courage, because the symbols for understanding were complicated! It looks like it should be easy, but it isn’t! She pondered this as she tediously followed the strokes. Not one, or two or three, but a total of ten spread out into two different figures!