Table of Contents
Part 1: Under the Sea
Part 2: On Dry Land
Part 3: Beyond the Endless
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Thank you for reading!
I don’t remember
Being born.
I don’t remember.
I don’t
Remember.
But I remember being different.
I remember.
My sisters eeling through the waters,
Up and ever up, to where the tall-crabs are.
Laughter bouncing through the waves,
As the tall-crabs and their moving lands fall.
I remember.
Being left behind because I am too little,
Around and around, staying down low.
Making my own paths through the waters,
As I flit between the sunken wreckage.
I remember.
My first time following my sisters,
Up and ever up, though there’s no storm.
Song spouting from our hearts like whales,
As we sit on warm, rough rock.
I remember.
Being scared of the thunder,
The quick way it all turns bottom-dark.
My sisters laughing and pushing me into the water,
As they look for signs of the moving land.
I remember.
The quick vicious biting of my sisters
As I ask them why we do this.
The pull of joining them in their hunt
For tall-crabs that don’t belong in the water.
I remember.
Tall-crabs aren’t like crabs.
Not really.
Crabs are hard and cute.
They pinch.
Tall-crabs…
Tall-crabs can move like crabs.
I like that about them.
They can pinch you too
If you pull them down after a storm,
But it’s…
It’s not much of a pinch.
You can barely feel it.
Tall-crabs have shells too,
But they’re not very useful.
You tear them off quick as biting.
I’m not sure why they have such soft shells.
I want to ask why.
My sisters do not know or care.
Tall-crabs are easy food,
Better than fish or sharks.
But why do tall-crabs have such soft shells?
When I was small
My sisters would tell me stories
About what it’s like to hunt the tall-crabs.
The quick flick-flick of your tail,
Their fingers scratching at your scales.
It sounded adventurous.
It sounded daring.
It sounded fun.
So the first time my sisters let me join them
I am excited. ^_^
I will get to see my first tall-crab!
We sit on the small island,
Or lounge against the rock,
The hunting song spilling from us
And I do not know it yet.
My sisters have chased me to the highest spot
So that I’m the first one to see the moving land.
Tall-crabs! Soon I will see my first tall-crab!
But my sisters do not let me move
Away from the rock.
I’ve messed up the hunting song too much.
My eldest sister says
It means that I am still too small.
My youngest sister was just as small as I am
When she caught her first tall-crab.
So I watch them from a distance,
See the way that the tall-crabs move in the storm.
They look so small from where I am.
They dart around like tiny fish
But with less freedom.
I wonder why.
Why must tall-crabs always be in contact
With some part of the moving land?
The first time I see a tall-crab,
I can only watch my sisters bring it down.
I do not accompany my sisters again.
Not the next time they hunt for tall-crabs.
Not the time after that.
I swim in the depths, alone,
Eating whatever else I can find,
Until my sisters come looking for me.
They swarm around me,
Family-school that we are,
And together we circle all the way up.
Back to the rocks where we call the tall-crabs.
Back to the light where I am too small to hunt.
We are a family.
We swim together.
Lonely.
My sisters and I are playing
When one of us is caught in the net.
She screams.
She screams and we scream
And she thrashes and we dart and eel around her,
Trying to find a way to free her.
The net is hardly visible,
Only scale-glimmer bright.
I scream.
I scream and she screams and we scream
And the cool of blood lies in the water
As I thrash and fight and tighter tighter the net.
I float.
I drift.
The net coils around me like an eel,
Slips underneath my scales so fine.
It hurts. Nets are strong, but teeth are stronger.
Nipping bites that fill the sea with pieces of us.
My sisters and I are free.
We are wounded and in pain.
Today, we shall not eat the tall-crabs.
Today, we hunt to soothe our roaring hearts.
Too weak to hunt,
I stay behind and rest.
The rock is slick beneath me,
The sun is warm above me.
I tilt my face towards it.
My sisters do not care for the sun.
It dries our skin too much.
But today I do not care about my sisters.
It tingles, this sun.
I slip back into the water
And look for a place where I can float.
I want the sun on my face,
To keep feeling that… That.
I do not want to dry out, either.
That is why I let only my face peek out of the water.
For a moment, I wonder what it must be like
To feel this all day long.
Such a strange thing.
I am glad my sisters are away hunting
Because I do not think they would understand.
No. I know they would not understand.
I find myself dozing in the water
And a song comes burbling from my throat.
It isn’t a strong song,
Nor one my sisters would know.
It is mine. Mine and the sun’s.
I wonder whether any of my sisters have a song that
Is theirs alone.
I wonder…
I can’t be the only one with a song.
Can I?
It takes a long time
For my sisters to return.
In that time, I have watched the dry sea change
And the sun sink below the waves
Where none of us have ever found it.
When they return they bring with them tall-crab
And tall-crab shell.
The shell trails from my sister like algae.
Coarse like our own bodies, it caught her.
It fits around her torso, has room for her arms.
We laugh at her and dance around her.
We take
playful nips and make playful nudges.
Soon we are all laughing.
Soon we all sprawl on the rock,
Watching as the dry sea comes to glow.
Soon we sing to our long-lost sisters
Who are hailing us from above.
We are always singing,
My sisters and I.
It is a comfortable time,
All of us fitted together around the rock,
Skin against skin.
Could we stay like this forever?
For a long time, I do not heal.
For a long time, my sisters will not let me join them.
I am still only small.
(Not that small anymore.)
And I slow them down.
I want to catch my first tall-crab.
I’m tired of being considered small.
I’m going to change that.
Without the help of my sisters.
They left me behind
And who needs a school anyway?
I want to see tall-crabs.
On my own and without my sisters.
I want to see tall-crabs
And prove that I’m big enough to hunt.
If I can catch a tall-crab on my own,
Just me, me alone,
My sisters will have to let me join them.
I won’t be too small then.
I won’t be lonely then.
So, when my sisters have left me,
And I can no longer feel them in the water,
I leave them too.
I will search for the moving lands
And see the tall-crabs.
I will follow the moving lands
And catch a tall-crab.
We hunt as a school.
I will be the first to kill a tall-crab
All on my own.
It is a little frightening,
But I will find them.
I will find the tall-crabs
And bring one home.
The first night on my own
Is frightening for its loneliness.
It’s not that I haven’t been alone before —
My sisters have abandoned me to hunt
And left me to fend for myself for days —
But I have never been alone by my choice.
I have never been alone in waters that
My sisters and I have not explored together.
I have never been alone in places I don’t know.
That is what frightens me.
More than anything, that
Is what is making my heart race.
There is darkness, yes,
But there is always darkness in the night.
There is cold, yes,
But the water is no colder than otherwise.
It just seems that way.
I do not sleep at all that night.
My bones sing for my sisters to join me.
My tail aches with the need to keep on swimming.
An octopus sends me scuttling back to familiar waters.
I am partway home when I make myself stop.
I should think, consider, prepare.
Do I go on? Do I go back?
If I swim all the way home, now, will I ever go?
No.
I must go now. Tonight.
If I am to catch a tall-crab on my own
Then I must have courage and leave.
I will not be frightened by an octopus.
I will not be swayed so easily by my own heart.
The first night on my own,
I swim as fast and as far as I dare.
Because I will not return to my sisters
And the further I go, the harder it is to return.
The first night on my own,
I do not sleep at all.
I do not even think beyond the notion of ‘further’.
The sea is not empty,
But it feels that way. :(
The further I swim from my sisters
The more empty the sea begins to feel.
The farther I leave my home behind
The less interest I take in my surroundings.
I sleep. When the morning comes.
There is a small cave deep enough to fit me
And I take the chance to rest there.
Food would be welcome,
But I am too tired to hunt.
We do not sleep much,
But when we do we need it desperately.
Afterwards I will hunt.
In waters that seem empty
Because I do not know them,
Because I have left my sisters.
Because I am afraid.
Because I am alone.
I will not be alone forever.
This I tell myself as I sleep.
I will return soon.
Morning comes
Hungry.
It is not my stomach,
Bubbling with hunger,
That wakes me as the sun rises.
It is the shark,
Hunting for its meal,
And a lone, small mermaid…
The shark does not know I am there,
Not yet. I am too still, or it is too far away.
I’m not sure, but the shark is out there
And I am just as hungry.
Do I hunt it? On my own?
Do I flee? I am faster.
I should be faster.
Hunger makes me unsure.
If I stay here and the shark finds me…
If I do that, I am trapped.
If I leave and the shark tracks me…
I long for my sisters
With their sharp teeth and strong tails.
It wouldn’t be a concern with them.
I should leave.
I’ll have the whole sea to swim in.
I am faster.
But I’m scared.
I am too anxious.
The shark will – has found me.
Fear gives me fins
And I’m faster still.
Fear has given me fins,
But it also stole my thoughts.
I swim without goal, without destination.
I do not know how far I’ve come
Or which direction I’ve gone in
When I slow, exhausted.
The shark. I cannot sense the shark.
That’s good. That’s very good.
But I don’t know where I am.
My sisters are gone,
Lost in my haste.
How will I find them again?
Will they look for me?
First, I must –
There is another disturbance in the water.
I cannot stay here. I have to go.
I have to go home.
I have to find my sisters.
Before I can find my sisters,
I must feed. I am hungry.
I am used to hunting on my own.
That much being the smallest has given me.
The disturbance is a school,
Not a shark.
I am so relieved. ^_^
And they can feed me too,
Though it is only a small meal.
It is enough,
And the food soothes my nerves.
I am feeling better now.
I still don’t know how to get home,
But I’m feeling better.
I can find my sisters.
And I can still catch a tall-crab.
I want to go home.
I miss my sisters.
Do I know what I want?
I’m not sure I know.
Being alone in the sea is odd.
I’ve been alone, yes,
When my sisters were hunting tall-crab
And larger food.
But it is not the same.
Sometimes, when I seek out a safe place to rest,
There is only the quiet of the sea.
At night, my sisters do not return to me;
There is
only the solitude of myself.
It is not the same.
My sisters should be around me,
Playing with bubbles and… things.
Sometimes we steal things from tall-crabs,
We take what is left when the moving land
Disappears beneath our waves.
Things that make good games,
Or things that catch the light in the water.
One time one of my sisters stole a red fish,
The kind that the tall-crabs eat when they’re hungry,
And we tried it, but it tasted of nothing,
And it was so tough. Our teeth couldn’t tear it.
Not easily. Not fast.
Shouldn’t that make the tall-crabs more dangerous?
I wonder how the tall-crabs build nets.
Those are dangerous. My arm is scarred from one.
But I don’t know how they’re made.
As I’m thinking about the tall-crabs,
I pay less attention to my surroundings
And something fine catches me.
I thrash.
I swam deep to avoid the tall-crab nets,
But this one lies deeper and cuts into my skin.
They’re never this far down.
I struggle.
I can sense my blood in the water
As I try to slip free of the net.
It was not there before. It was not!
I should have been able to back away,
To back out,
But everywhere I try to swim to,
There it is.
It surrounds me,
Engulfs me.
With horror I realise that the net is moving,
Dragging me up to the surface, to air.
No. No, no, no, no, no, no.
I thrash wildly.
I cry as forcefully as I can.
I can feel the net,
Moving so that I can’t,
Loosening scales that it gets under.
It hurts.
Sisters, my sisters, I hurt.
My tail lashes out at the net,
I bite at it where it is digging into my face.
But it is all to no avail.
The net has caught me.
I should never have left my sisters.
Out of the water, the sun is shining.
The sea is calm where I am not thrashing.
I can see the tall-crabs above me,
Making noise that I don’t understand,
Moving in ways I don’t comprehend.
But there is purpose to them.
For a few moments, I forget the net.
I dangle, half out of the water,
The moving land close enough to touch.
The tall-crabs move around like a startled school.
For a few moments, I stare at them.
I watch the tall-crabs move on the land,
And I see that they are a school,
Just like the sea life swims together
And I am curious about the tall-crabs.
But then the net jostles
And my side hits the moving land.
It hurts. There are cuts in my skin and I fight.
I must get free. I want the open water. I want –
Sea Foam and Silence Page 1
