Brothers of the Sea

by D R Sherman

  “I am sorry,” he said, and though he felt truly sorry for her he could not help the feeling of complacence that was also in his breast.

  “Do not feel sorry for me,” she said with haughty indifference.

  The boy’s eyes took on a green tinge. “Then I will not,” he said stiffly.

  She realized instantly that she had gone too far. She glanced covetously at the big dolphin wallowing in the water beside him and then she smiled brightly.

  “In any case,” she said, changing the subject quickly, “I think your fish is a girl.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “It is a fact that one woman is always jealous of another when there is a man to be thought about.”

  The boy shook his head and smiled at her with an amused tolerance. “No,” he said with quiet conviction. “He is a boy fish.”

  “How do you know?” she retorted.

  “I just know,” he answered, and the calm assertion in his voice defeated her for a moment.

  “But wouldn’t you prefer it to be a girl?” she persisted.

  “No,” he said, thinking it over carefully. “Then it could not be—” He caught himself abruptly. He had been about to say that it could not be his brother. But such a thing was not to be spoken about: it was, with all it implied, a closely guarded secret of his mind.

  He glanced at her furtively. She was waiting patiently for him to go on, and she appeared not to have noticed his confusion. With his secret safe, his distress went away.

  “Then it would not be strong enough to carry me on its back,” he improvised quickly. “Girls are never as strong as boys.”

  “They are stronger in some ways,” she countered obliquely. She tossed her head, and her long wet hair swung back across her shoulders. “In any case,” she went on, “I think that a big girl fish could carry you just as well as any boy fish.”

  “Never!” he stated, scornful and indignant. “I told you before, girls are not as strong as boys.”

  He looked her up and down contemptuously. Her small thrusting breasts arrested his attention. His eyes started, and the patronizing contempt in them turned to painful confusion. He looked away quickly.

  The girl did not miss it. She laughed triumphantly. “I think you say your fish is a boy only because you are afraid of girls,” she said.

  He blushed with confusion. He shook his head in frantic denial, but he could not bring himself to meet her eyes.

  “You are!” she crowed, mockingly, hurtfully. “Aren’t you, Paul?”

  He snatched the mask down over his burning face and adjusted it hastily. He wanted to get away from her as soon as he could, from the knowing mockery in her eyes. He began to wade through the water, moving straight out to sea. He did not think he had ever felt so humiliated or inadequate in all his life.

  He looked for the big fish, and he saw that it was five yards away. Its head was halfway out of the water, and it was watching him attentively. He was on the point of whistling to it and plunging into the sea for the long swim out to the pirogue when another idea occurred to him. It was truly audacious, and he felt a thrill of excitement shoot through him. If he did not bring it off, he would never be able to face her again. But if he was successful, his departure would be so spectacular it would compensate him for all the pain and humiliation he had suffered at her hands.

  He paused for a moment, alarmed by the magnitude of the decision and the extent of his aspirations. Just then the girl called out anxiously.

  “Where are you going, Paul?” she cried.

  I will show her, he thought, suddenly defiant, I will show her where I am going. I will ride out to the pirogue on my fish.

  He whistled at the dolphin. It swam up beside him, and when he realized that it had answered even though he had not slapped his hand down into the water he felt an incredulous delight. His confidence soared. He turned so that he was facing it, positioning himself opposite its left flipper. He reached an arm over its back, and he began to tickle it on the flank. He bent towards it, crouching a little in the water.

  “You are a fine fish,” he crooned softly. “You are the most beautiful fish in all the sea, and of all the fishes you are the strongest and the noblest. Do you hear me, Marsouin? The strongest and the noblest… the finest and the most beautiful.”

  In a state of suspense and agitation the boy began to lift his right leg up so that he could get it across the back of the dolphin. He did not rush the movement, and he continued to caress the dolphin and whisper to it. He lifted his leg higher, and then a bit higher, and then when it was high enough he began to slide it across the back of the dolphin.

  His heart began to pound like a jackhammer. He slid his right leg right over the back of the fish, but he let the water take the weight of it. He paused for an instant, balancing on his left leg, his right leg poised over the back of the dolphin. The next second, he knew, was going to be the most difficult and crucial moment of all. If the big fish swam off as he was settling onto its back he would slip and fall ignominiously into the water. The thought appalled him, and for a second he wished he had never thought of trying to mount the dolphin. But he knew it was too late now for wishes.

  He brought the weight of his right leg down on the back of the dolphin, and he felt the big fish sink a little lower into the water.

  “Wait for me, Marsouin,” he whispered.

  Now, he told himself, and he stood up on the toes of his left foot and slid across the back of the dolphin. He felt the big fish go right down in the water, and he fell forward across its back and wrapped his arms around its neck.

  For one terrible moment nothing happened, and in his mind he began to imagine all the dreadful and humiliating things which could happen. What if the big fish refused to move, or what if it threw him off its back? And supposing it swam farther in towards the shore instead of taking him out to the pirogue? It had, after all, made straight for the shallow water when it lifted him onto its back in the deep channel, and he certainly did not have any way of steering it.

  My God, he thought, I did not think of that. A fish cannot be steered like a pirogue, even if it is my brother.

  He was beginning to make himself feel quite sick when the dolphin moved off. It headed straight out to sea, and through the intoxicating relief which numbed his senses he heard the girl’s frantic cry.

  “Paul!” she screamed. “Wait, Paul!”

  His head and shoulders were above the water. He twisted round to look at her, still crouched down low across the back of the dolphin. He felt the increasing resistance of the water against his body, and the sea which streamed past him began to hiss more loudly. It was a song he had heard ever since he could remember, and it was the same song that the sea sang when a pirogue moved swiftly across its surface. He felt the bulge and contraction of the great tail muscles of the dolphin as a liquid shiver which ran up and down its back and flanks. The fluttering tempo grew faster and faster, and the rushing song of the sea filled his ears. He knew the big fish had never carried him so swiftly through the water before.

  He saw the girl splashing after him desperately. He wondered if she thought she could catch up with him. It was comical and futile. No one could ever hope to match him in the water, not when he was riding on the back of his mighty fish. A sudden laughing cry burst from his mouth, but it was not aimed at her in mockery. It was a simple and spontaneous expression of all the great happiness that was in his heart.

  What a fish, he thought to himself, what a great fish I have.

  “Wait for me, Paul!” the girl screamed out again.

  The boy shook his head furiously. Even if he had wanted to wait for her, it was not possible. There was no way to stop a big fish when once he had started his run, not unless you had him on a strong line with a sharp hook driven deep and fast into the flesh and bone of his throat. He certainly was not going to admit such a thing to her.

  “Paul!” the girl called again. “Let me come with you tomorrow then.”

&n
bsp; He was about to shout a reply when the dolphin went down into the deepening water. It went down to six feet and held that level, and the boy on its back turned and faced forward, still choking on the water he had swallowed. He eased the pressure of his arms and legs, and when the dolphin surfaced he cleared his lungs and breathed in quickly. It dived again instantly, and behind the mask the boy’s face cracked in a delighted grin.

  They crossed into the deep channel, still heading straight out to sea. The boy began to think of the girl. It would be a fine thing if she could sit in front of him on the back of his big fish, where he could hold her with his arms and have all those strange and fascinating curves and swellings close to him. It was a pleasant thought, but he did not know whether the fish would permit such a thing, and he doubted whether even a ,fish as strong as his own great fish could carry such a burden through the water.

  Sixty yards out in the deep channel the dolphin once again responded to the slackening of his grip. He blew the air out from his lungs an instant before they surfaced, and when his head broke through the water he was ready to breathe in and he lost no time in first having to exhale. He managed to take two breaths before the dolphin slipped below the surface again, and he saw at the same time that the heading of their course would take him out to sea fifty yards to the left of the pirogue. He was not perturbed about the fish taking him out to sea, because he knew that he could always abandon it if he had to. But he had been hoping that the dolphin would take him right up to the pirogue, and though he knew it was foolish to expect even an intelligent fish like his to be able to read his mind, he felt a little disappointed, because he had been expecting it. He began to wonder if there was any way in which he could communicate with his friend and get it to understand his thoughts and wishes.

  He tried increasing the pressure on his right knee, but it made no difference. He tried it with his left knee, but that too made no difference. The big fish swam on tirelessly. The bed of the sea and the world below him unreeled like an endless carpet that was marked with beautiful colors, and he saw the shapes of the many fishes which moved in and out among the different colors of the carpet.

  He began to think of the way a man could sail a pirogue and steer it with one oar trailing in the water over the stern. He did not think of it as a rudder, because he had no knowledge of the word and its application. To him it was a steering oar, and it was used on either the left- or the right-hand side of the boat, depending on the direction in which the boat was being sailed, and when you wanted to change to the other tack you pulled hard on the oar so that it was sticking out at right angles to the side of the boat and then when her head swung up into the wind and she fell away from it on the other tack the steering oar had to be used on the other side of the boat.

  It passed through his mind in a flash. In an instant of sudden hope and inspiration he settled himself more firmly on the back of the fish. He let go his right hand and pushed his arm out in the water with the palm of his hand facing in the direction they were moving and his fingers pressed tight together so that it offered the maximum amount of resistance.

  The dolphin lurched in the water and swung a little to the right. He felt the great drag on his arm, and his body slewed sideways a little. He flattened himself as much as he could and gripped more tightly with his legs. His balance steadied, and he glanced down at the seabed. They were moving over it at a slightly oblique angle to the direction in which they had been traveling before. The boy felt a sudden surge of triumph.

  It is working, he thought exultantly, it is working.

  Just then the big fish swung back to the left and resumed the course along which it had been swimming before. He almost fell off, and he grabbed for its neck quickly with the arm he had been using as a steering oar. He felt a deep disappointment, and he got angry with himself for having been such an idiot as to imagine prematurely that he had succeeded in making a fish swim where he wanted it to swim in the water. It was as bad as selling fish before they had been caught. He was on the point of abandoning the whole idea when it occurred to him that it had worked after a fashion.

  I will try it once more, he thought, in defiance of his common sense.

  He pushed his right arm out in the water once more, determined but not very hopeful. He felt the big fish lurch again and swing off course. He waited tensely, expecting it to change its heading at any moment. He waited a little longer, but still the fish did-not turn. He glanced down and checked his direction with the seabed, and to his absolute delight and astonishment he saw that the big fish was swimming under the water in a sweeping arc.

  It must understand me, the boy thought in awe, and it learns even faster than some men.

  He withdrew the drag of his arm, expecting the dolphin to turn and swim back in the direction it had been taking be-. fore he turned it. But the big fish merely halted its swing and settled down to swim steadily on its new course. He felt a moment of alarm, and with his mind frozen on a preconceived idea he was unable to think for a few seconds. But then he remembered the steering oar, and he realized that when once the heading of a pirogue had been altered with the oar it did not return of its own accord to its previous course.

  He wanted to shout out and laugh in his happiness, but he was under the water and he could not do it. He stuck his left arm out instead, and as the big fish veered to the left he felt a drunken ecstasy which made his senses reel.

  He went up for a breath of air, searching for the pirogue. He did not see it. He glanced back across his shoulder quickly. It was already fifty yards behind him. He felt a heart-squeezing rush of panic, but then he remembered that he could turn the fish in the water.

  The dolphin dived again, and he saw that he was almost on the edge of the reef. He pushed his right arm out, and he held it there against the fierce drag of the water. The big fish began to turn in a wide circle, and when it had turned through a hundred and eighty degrees and was swimming straight back towards the shore he withdrew his arm and took the dolphin up to the surface.

  He spotted the pirogue as he snatched a breath. It was quite a way over to his right. He put his arm out in the water as he went under and he turned the big fish a little more. When he thought he had turned it enough he pulled his right arm in again and took the dolphin up to the surface.

  The pirogue was twenty yards in front of him, and he saw that they were heading straight for it. He took a quick breath just before the fish dived. Almost immediately he relaxed the grip of his arms and legs again. The dolphin streaked back towards the surface. He did not instantly renew the pressure of his grip as he had always done before. The dolphin surfaced, and to his delight it did not dive again but continued towards the pirogue, swimming half-submerged along the surface of the sea.

  I did not think he would do that, the boy thought with wonder.

  Five yards from the pirogue he allowed himself to slip easily off the back of the dolphin. It turned immediately in the water and came up beside him. He thought he saw a look of interrogation in the large brown eyes before it slipped below the surface and came up between his legs from behind.

  “Non, non, Marsouin!” the boy cried softly, laughingly.

  He slipped off its back again and struck out quickly for the pirogue. He reached the stern and hauled himself aboard. He pushed the mask up on his face and turned to the dolphin that was swimming slowly up and down in the water beside the boat.

  He fed the big fish. He fed it all of the four fishes he had speared, without ever remembering that he had promised to take his father a fat fish to eat with his breadfruit coque.

  When he had no more fish to give it the dolphin swam off a little way. It leaped high out of the water beside the pirogue and he saw its head turn as it looked down into the boat. He wondered if it was looking to see if there were any more fish.

  It crashed back into the water, and it entered the sea so close to the pirogue that the boat rocked violently and he felt the sting of splashing spray across his chest and face.


  It vanished after that, and though he waited a while he did not see it again. He whistled for it, and he called out loudly, but it did not reappear. He remembered the oars, and how earlier it had come soon after he had smacked them loudly into the water. He bent and lifted one of the oars, and he whacked it down fiat-bladed as hard as he could, straight down into the water. He did it again and again. In a while he became too tired to lift the oar, but still the big fish did not show itself.

  He laid the oar down in the boat. He began to wish that he had played with his friend a little longer before giving it the fish, because he was beginning to think that it was the way of the dolphin to leave him and go about its own business after he had fed it. He did not feel any resentment as he had done before, nor did he think that the fish was being ungrateful to leave him so soon after it had been fed. He had played with it and ridden on its back, and he had fed it, not as a reward, but simply because he loved it. He was certain the fish had not allowed him to ride on its back only because it was thinking of the food it was going to get from him. The big fish loved him too, but he had to remember that it had many other things to attend to in the sea.

  He wondered how the fish was going to spend the rest of the day. It was a big fish, and it would need to catch and eat many more fish to keep the great strength full in its body. He began to wish that he had speared more fish for his friend, because four little fishes would certainly not provide much strength for the great muscles of its tail which drove the mighty flukes tirelessly up and down through the water. He remembered the feel of the great pulsing muscles against his thighs and against his buttocks, and the shivery vibrations of power as they stretched and pulled along the entire length of the fish’s back.

  My God, he thought, but how they can work.

  He thought again regretfully about the four little fishes he had given the dolphin. He felt a stab of remorse, and then he remembered suddenly that he had no fish for his father to eat with his coque.

  Mon Dieu, he thought again, and he started guiltily.