Ocean's Gift

by Carlton, Demelza

  “The island had a young, male human leader, who visited the caves with the other humans, to hear and see the dragon. She flipped her tail, angry, and dove deeper into the darkness of the water. She roared at them in the dark as she hid from them.

  “The human leader returned to the cave often, alone. At first, he sat silent, watching for the dragon, and she remained silent and hidden. After a time, he started to speak to the dragon, as if she would speak to him, of trouble on the island and the difficulties he faced.

  “She practised his language in the dark, until she could make the same sounds. One day he visited the cave, saddened by the damage a storm had wreaked on the human settlement. She chose to appear human in a pool of water in the cave, to offer him comfort.

  “The human was surprised to see a human woman he did not know in that place. He asked her if she was the dragon, shifting form to look like a human woman.

  “She had listened to many humans on the island. Could not human women, the wives of men on the island, turn into dragons? she asked him. Could she not be a human woman who chose to be a dragon more than she was a woman?

  “He found her idea amusing and accepted her offer of comfort. He visited her often for this.

  “She remained at the cave far too long, even after the human had stopped visiting her. Her time came early, whilst she remained in the island caves. Our kind heard her cries and helped her, in the dark beneath the island. They carried her and me to the deeps when she was strong enough. She named me for a water dragon.”

  Maria was shocked. “How do you know all of this? You were far too young to remember, for some of it was before you were born.”

  I told her the truth, for our people do not lie to one another. “Grandmother told me, for she was one of the elders even then. Mother told this story to them on her return.”

  Maria’s next words revealed her limited contact with humans. “Yet it does not explain why she might enjoy the company of another human now. After being required to do her duty twice, I expect her to feel revulsion for the human males.”

  I tried to help her to understand. “She became friends with the human male. I believe this shared liking makes the joining experience quite pleasurable. After all, she continued to engage in it with him long after she was aware she carried me.”

  I did not succeed. Maria’s expression was horrified. “Even the thought disgusts me. “

  I tried to be conciliatory. Life on land had not been her calling. “It is fortunate, then, that you could do your duty using the human technology they call artificial insemination.”

  She gave another snort. “It is fortunate for us all. It makes the duty bearable. Was Zerafina not also the result of this technology?”

  Bubbles of laughter, drifting up to the surface. I tried to control myself sufficiently to reply. “Zerafina was the result of large quantities of alcoholic drink that burned my throat and time spent with a warm human male whose hair was the colour of fire.”

  Her silence allowed me the luxury of remembering the experience. Of course I had named my daughter in memory of the nights of burning, alcohol-fuelled passion that created her.

  Maria’s words broke through my thoughts. “I still do not understand the attraction.”

  I made my voice soothing. “Nor would I expect you to, Maria.”

  Her attention was distracted by a small vessel on the surface. “Oh, look, it’s a fisherman, alone in a little metal boat. Do you think the human would be more attractive if he were to wash more frequently? Even a cold salt water wash would improve him.”

  Wave, current, water, wind, depth, rock, push...

  I could feel the wave build as she shaped it. In her anger, she put too much power in it, but it was too late to stop the wave before it crashed over the little metal boat.

  “Now you’ve done it – his boat’s a bathtub and it will sink unless we get it out of the water. Come on, let’s put it up somewhere out of the water where he’ll be safe.”

  Under the little metal boat, shaping the waves to speed us in the right direction, we took it to a barely submerged rock and wedged the craft in.

  “Now, let’s leave this shag on his rock to dry out till morning.” I led Maria back to the Siren.

  32. Joe

  “To the lucky deckie!” Skipper roared. All the beer glasses went up with a ragged cheer, before tipping to empty their contents down the throats of their owners.

  My glass came down empty. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood up. I started to weave through people to the sink out the back. It was near closing time and there was an unspoken rule – it was always the deckies’ turn to wash up.

  Skipper stood in front of me, so I had to stop. “Not your turn tonight. You head back to camp.” He winked. “Maybe find some other way to celebrate tonight.”

  Bloody bastard was reading my mind. I faked a yawn. “Yeah, like sleep before you get me up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.” I stumbled out of the club into the dark.

  Someone made a ribald comment behind me that I didn’t hear, but the laughter in response was unmistakeable.

  It took me a minute to find my torch in my pocket and switch it on, before I went down the rock-strewn track to the dinghy.

  I pushed it out into the water and got in. The engine caught on the second pull and I steered her around, headed back to Rat Island and camp. Good thing I knew this stretch of water so well – beer and driving a boat in the pitch black was bloody difficult.

  I figured I had maybe half an hour before the other guys would be back. If we had the lights out by then, maybe they wouldn’t bother us. Was that enough time for a couple of drinks with her? A drink or two and one thing might lead to another....SHIT!

  I felt the wave drench me from behind and saw it half fill the boat with water, knocking the torch out of my hand. The engine sputtered and died, drowned, and I found a few more four-letter words to describe the motor. I pulled on it, over and over, pounded it till my hand hurt, but the bitch didn’t catch. Dead in the water, with a boat full of water, I groped for the paddle I know had been there before the wave hit. My hand grasped the handle and I pulled it free.

  Look at the bloody lucky deckie now, I fumed. Paddling his bloody dinghy back to Rat Island in the dark.

  I paddled till my arms ached, but the distant lights on Rat only seemed to get further away. I saw the other guys get in their dinghies and head back to Rat Island in a convoy. I shouted and waved, but they never heard me. The wind was blowing the wrong way, carrying my voice out to sea. It had picked up a fair bit, too.

  I stopped paddling to rest for a few minutes, letting the boat drift with the waves. Maybe it’ll ground on a sandbank or a rock and I can just sit here and wait till morning.

  I hadn’t prayed about it, but the unsaid prayer was answered anyway. The bottom of the boat scraped across a rock. I tipped the useless motor up, in an effort to save it from further damage, as the tinnie wedged up against part of the rock just under the surface. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Now I just sit here and have wet dreams while I’m soaked through in a dinghy full of water on a rock, until someone comes looking for me in daylight. Just the thought of Vanessa with her clothes off would keep any red-blooded male warm for a night...

  I drifted between sleep and daydreams, waking every time a wave jolted the boat. Another wave sloshed over the side of the boat, soaking me again, and forcing me awake. The boat was almost full of water now, I realised in panic, as I groped for a bucket to start bailing with. Throwing bucket after bucket overboard, I couldn’t tell if I was making any difference to the water level in the boat.

  One moment I was holding the bucket, about to scoop up more water, the next I was flying through the air, full of spray and water and no sign of the tinny. Suddenly immersed in cold black water, I couldn’t see the surface. I struggled, kicking in the direction I thought was up, and hit a rock. I jerked back reflexively and my head cleared the water. I gulped a huge lungful of air a
nd grabbed for the rock. I had to hold on till daylight. Surely, that couldn’t be too far away.

  Another big wave and I tried to keep a hold of the slimy rock, but I was pushed out of reach, drifting in the current. I tried to kick my legs, but I wasn’t sure if I did. I couldn’t feel my feet and the numbness was creeping up my legs. Vanessa won’t be able to help me here, I thought. I could feel my body shake with laughter. I drifted.

  I could hear the breakers on the outer reef, louder than they were from shore. I could feel the spray on my face. A wave washed over me and I was under the water again.

  I thought I heard dolphins, but it sounded deeper and closer with my head submerged. Dolphins or whales? I thought I could feel them beside me, rolling me over so my face was at the surface, pulling my body through the water.

  Arms lifted me into a boat, laying me down across the length of it. Dolphins with arms? No, that’s not right.

  I could feel the boat moving through the water, but I couldn’t hear the engine. Maybe it was the rushing in my ears, drowning it out. All I could hear was an unearthly singing, high and sad, like some kind of suicidal dolphin. I could say I blacked out, but everything was already so fucking black I wouldn’t have noticed the difference.

  I checked out of Hotel Consciousness. At least I got to dream of Vanessa naked.

  33. Belinda

  Humans returning. Hidden from sight under a jetty, we watched them pass.

  I lifted my head from the water to hear the conversation.

  Vanessa walked out to meet them. “Where’s Joe?” she asked. “Did he stay back to close up?”

  A raucous laugh from one of them. “He came back early. He’s probably asleep in his bunk, dreaming about you.”

  She laughed, but it sounded forced. She was worried.

  She waited until they had returned to their camps before she came to us. We could not hide from her.

  “His little boat has not returned. He may need help. We must find him. I will bring my little boat. You help me. Have you seen him?”

  Maria answered, “His little boat is stuck on a rock between the islands. It contains some water, but he will be safe until someone rescues him.”

  Vanessa proceeded from worry to incredulity. “You saw him and left him in such a precarious position?”

  I defended my own role in the mess. “Maria damaged his boat motor with a poorly placed wave. We felt it would be safest to place the boat there than let it drift without power.”

  Now Vanessa became angry. “The young human fisherman has offered to fit out our land home with communications like that of the mainland. If we lose him, we must spend additional months on the mainland, away from our people. You will accompany me and you will find him. We must help him, whatever it takes. If you do not find him, on our return I will inform the elders that the delay was caused by your carelessness.”

  Her fury was palpable. She jumped into the small metal boat and started the motor. She moved the boat into the deeper water and headed for the gap between the islands, then to the open water between the island and the outer reef, searching.

  We found his little metal boat, upside-down just below the surface. We tipped the water out and pushed it the right way up. She brought her boat over to us and tied a rope to his little vessel, towing it behind hers.

  Her voice was anxious. “Find him. He must be close.”

  Near the barrier reef, I saw him.

  I called for my sister. “Maria. Quickly, he is by the outer reef. He cannot swim, so we must take him together.”

  Maria and I carefully lifted the human to the surface. Vanessa looked relieved, but her voice was still anxious. “Bring him to the boat.”

  She leaped from her boat to his, her aim so perfect that both vessels barely rocked. She dropped to her knees and held out her arms. We helped her to lift him into the boat. She didn’t let go of him, even when he was securely out of the water.

  I watched her for a moment, as she held tight to the cold, wet human, her expression worried. I relented and gave her advice, as a healer who had been trained in human health as well as that of our own people. “He is colder than a human should be. He needs warmth.”

  Her eyes were cold. “Then we must make him dry and warm.”

  Looking at the human she held in her arms, his head resting on her breasts, I voiced both Maria’s and my wish. “I feel you are all the warmth he wishes for.”

  Vanessa’s anger had softened in her concern for the human, but it was not gone. “After the trouble both of you have caused, it should be you girls who assist him to recover. However, as it appears I can trust neither of you with his well-being, this will be my responsibility. I will find another way for you to make amends. For now, Belinda will steer my boat, whilst Maria will guide us.”

  Together, we guided both metal vessels back to the jetty through the waves, as she raised her voice to sing him to sleep. Her song was powerful and his sleep was deep.

  We assisted her to transfer the human from the boat to a wheelbarrow on the jetty. She took him back to his dwelling alone.

  We took his boat back to its usual floating place, tying it up securely.

  We retired for the night, but she remained to care for the human. She devoted considerable time and effort to ensuring his well-being, leaving his house not long before dawn. She returned to her own house for long enough to wash and change her clothes. She then returned to the jetty.

  I politely enquired after the human’s health. “Is the human warm enough for your liking?”

  “Oh yes. He is very warm.” Vanessa smiled. Her hands rubbed her upper arms slowly. She turned away to step into the boat cabin. Both Maria and I breathed a sigh of relief that we were not required to further tend to the human.

  “Time to go and pull the pots.” Vanessa’s eyes were bright and excited.

  I wondered what could be so exciting about lobsters, today as opposed to any other day.

  34. Joe

  I dreamed of Vanessa. Tonight the dreams were more explicit than ever. She came to me in a blue lace g-string and woke me up with a stellar blow job. Then we had sex in every position I’d ever heard of and a couple I swear I imagined. A hell of a dream.

  What woke me from it was the sound of a boat engine. You went to sleep on a rock. You need to wake up to get their attention and get rescued.

  Reluctantly, I opened my eyes. It was dark, but it felt like I was in bed, not out on the reef. I felt around. Blankets, sheets, mattress – not usually stuff found on a reef. I sat up. Hmm, I was buck naked, too. Also not something I was stupid enough to be out on the reef.

  I got up. Yep, I dreamed of Vanessa last night. Now the sheets need a wash.

  I pulled the sheets off the bed and bundled them into my arms, padding across to the laundry on the other side of the shack. There was a load already in the washing machine, clothes clinging to the outside of the drum as if they’d finished a full cycle. I pulled the wet stuff out, dumping it in the tub that I used as a laundry basket. Huh. Those are the clothes I wore yesterday. Don’t remember putting a load of washing on. Fuck, I don’t remember getting home.

  I shoved the sheets in the machine and turned it on. Then I hunted up a pair of shorts and put them on, before going outside in the pre-dawn light to hang out the damp washing on the clothesline next to my donga.

  Skipper was walking down the track, almost at the jetty, with another skipper I didn’t recognise in the poor light. “Morning.”

  I nodded in reply and followed him down the jetty. The tinny was there, tied up where I always left it. The paddle was lying in the bottom of the boat, across some big dents that hadn’t been there yesterday. I knelt on the jetty and pulled at the rope. I hadn’t tied those knots, I was sure of it.

  Behind me, Skipper laughed and I jumped. “Looks like you banged the dinghy up pretty good last night. Sounds like it was the only banging you got up to, though – Vanessa was looking for you last night, but you’d already gone to bed.”

&
nbsp; Vanessa. I looked over at her jetty, but her boat was already gone. Like every other morning, out of the anchorage before I was even up. Good thing, too, this morning – I’d have trouble looking at her without thinking of that damn blue g-string. An imaginary blue g-string, I reminded myself.

  “Ready to go?” Skipper asked.

  I shook my head, trying to shake out the graphic pictures rattling around inside it. “Lemme grab a shirt.”

  I went inside and grabbed the first shirt I found. I pulled it on over my head as I wandered down the jetty to the fishing boat.

  “Time to go pull the pots and count the crays.”

  I got to work, untying the ropes from the jetty, my arms aching in memory of my paddling attempts last night. When I had all the ropes back aboard the boat, Skipper started to pull away from the jetty into the anchorage channel, heading south, as the sun crept over the horizon.

  As we passed her house, I saw her washing hanging out on her veranda, too. I realised that the g-string wasn’t imaginary, because there it was, moving in the breeze. I must have seen it on the washing line before and forgotten, though not completely. I looked more closely at the line of small lace items, which would be hidden from view from the path by the row of shirts and shorts, unless the wind blew the shirts up out of the way, like they just did. That wasn’t what held my attention, though. All of her underwear is blue. Hell, all of her clothes are some shade of blue, from her jacket to the tiny lace g-string.

  Fuck, what I’d give to see her in it. This daydream lasted until we were well out of the anchorage channel.

  “Hey, it looks like someone’s lost a torch.” Skipper pointed at the rocks at the southern end of the island’s western beach, bringing my attention back to the present reality.

  I glanced at it, not needing more than a glance to know it was mine. I’ll walk over and pick it up after work, I told myself.

  “Everything that’s lost on the reefs washes up here. Even found a dead body here once,” Skipper said.