by Anna Kyss
My stomach will not be ignored any longer. It growls loudly again. I concentrate on finishing my stew, which tastes rich and unfamiliar. Thick orange chunks float next to sweet yellow squares in a creamy base. Each bite overwhelms me with new flavors: first tongue-searing, then mouth-puckering. So different from the fish and seaweed diet we survive on in the waters.
“It’s a curry stew—sweet potato, pineapple, and coconut.” Jesse points out each item. “Must be different from what you’re used to.”
I scoop the last bite up and set the bowl down. “I like different.”
I lie back upon the cushions and think about how very much I do like different. The monotony of Maluhia—life never changing—was slowly killing me. Replaying the same activities, day after day, was draining me, while the memories of the missing and the threat of the Unmentionable were tortuous. Life changed the day I met Jesse, and in a good way. Already—one day above the Surface—and I have smiled. Not once, but twice. At dinner, I actually giggled. Giggled! Who would have imagined?
Jesse leans back on his elbow and smiles down at me. “I like different too.” He winks, then jumps up to gather the myriad of dishes spread across the deck.
~Navy~
11
“Captain,” Jesse calls. “We’re heading down to the raft.”
“You ain’t planning on slipping underneath on us?” Captain stares right into my eyes.
“I—I just want to say good-bye to my Pairing. I need to know that Haku is safe, after she took so much risk to save us.”
Captain sighs. “Losing your Pairing is always the hardest part of leaving the ocean.” He nods his approval to Jesse.
“What do you mean, ‘always the hardest part’?” Have others left the waters?
Captain shrugs. “Seems like it would be hard, is all.”
“But, you said—”
“You should get going before we drift too far from your waters.”
I am torn. I want answers. No, I need answers. But I need Haku more. I cannot risk sailing too far, not without seeing her one last time.
Jesse helps me into a small raft, which hangs from the sailboat. The sunshine’s heat warms the plastic. Leaning against the back, I grip the two side handles as the boat sways in the wind.
Jesse tugs on the rope, bringing us closer to the water. Before he releases the raft, Captain leans over the edge of the sailboat. “Li’l mermaid, don’t slip under the water on us. Your authorities won’t allow you to return safely. You know too much now.”
I barely notice the small splash as the vessel slaps against the water. How does he know so much about my world? I have so many questions and too few answers.
“How does he know so much about Maluhia?”
“Mal-what-ia?” Jesse shrugs. “You’d have to ask him.”
“But—”
“How do you call her?” Jesse watches me as our little raft bobs along the Surface.
“I have a special whistle.” I lift the little waterproof box from the chain around my neck. “We receive this gift upon our Pairing Days. My whistle’s sound is unique to me. Haku can hear it from miles away.”
Jesse looks across the seemingly endless expanse of ocean. “Do your authorities know your special call? Is there any chance they would respond to it?”
I shake my head. “Everyone learns the five basic whistles of Dolphin-speak, but it would be impossible to remember each pod member’s specific whistle.”
“You really speak Dolphin?” He leans close. “I’ve heard the stories. I’m looking forward to seeing it with my own eyes.”
I cannot turn away from those eyes. Their brown is so different from the colors of the ocean. Jesse scoots to the far end of the boat, then pulls his shirt over his head, leaving his entire chest bare.
It seems indecent of me to stare, but I have never seen another in just their skin. Jesse’s broad shoulders and muscular arms are defined, unlike our indistinct, blubber-lined bodies. His color reminds me of salt-bleached driftwood.
“I wasn’t even thinking. Captain warned us that underneathers are a bit more… modest. I didn’t want to don the wetsuit for a quick splash in the water. Hope that’s okay?”
My cheeks heat. He caught me looking—blatantly staring.
“Hey, you’d better ‘screen up again. Your face is burning.” Jesse hunts through a supplies container until he finds a small tube. He squeezes white liquid onto his fingers, leans close, and slowly rubs it my blazing cheeks, bringing his chest—his bare chest—even closer to me.
Jesse’s thumbs run down my neck, before they catch on my whistle chain. He tries to lift it over my head, but I grasp it and hold on tight.
“Are you sure I cannot enter the water?” I touch my forehead and wince. My wound still throbs.
“You probably know that answer better than I do.” He shakes his head. “The ocean and blood aren’t such a good combination.”
I know he is right, but I yearn to swim with Haku one last time. I release my whistle.
His fingers trail through my hair as he slips the cord off. He meets my gaze as he tightens the cord onto his own neck. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care with it.”
Wearing only his shorts, Jesse stands on the side of our little raft and dives into the water. I lean over the edge and, through the spreading ripples, see the strong kicks that carry him down into the water. How ironic that I wait above the Surface while Jesse swims underneath.
For a long moment, nothing happens. Then, Jesse breaks to the Surface. “Well, I blew your whistle. Do you think she’ll come?”
I simply nod. She has to come.
With his right hand, Jesse grips the rope that circles the top of the raft. “Is it safe for me to stay in the water? She won’t hurt me, will she?”
“The dolphins never harm humans. We are not only their partners, but… our hearts are connected as well.” I glance around at the waters, but they remain smooth. Unrippled.
Jesse’s question repeats in my mind. Will she come? Another answer comes unbidden: She will come—if she is alive still, if she can still swim, if…
Before my thoughts are complete, a sleek, grey body shoots out of the water, spins, and then splashes down next to my boat. Haku!
She emerges again, bobbing up and down on her tail. Her questions pour out in a stream of clicks and whistles.
I ignore all of them. “Haku, I have been so worried. Are you hurt? Did the predator—”
“Some bumps and bruises—nothing that will not heal,” she clicks back.
“I am so sorry to have called you into danger.” I cannot even meet her eyes. “I—I panicked. You could have been killed.”
“You nearly were killed. Calling me was the right decision.” Haku dives into the water once more.
She circles the boat and emerges next to Jesse. He starts and places both hands on the rope, ready to haul himself onto our small raft. Haku nudges Jesse with her beak; he flinches. “Thank you for saving my Chey,” she clicks.
I translate her message, then lean over the side of the raft to place my hands on her smooth head. “Haku, I… I have stumbled upon things the Authority does not want me to know. There are people living above the Surface. Humans living on… Land!”
Haku remains quiet. She swims out of my reach.
Everything that has been missing from this conversation hits me at once. There were no questions about Jesse. There was no surprise at a boatful of people on top of the Surface. Haku should be as curious as I was about this strange discovery, but she is not.
As if she already knew.
I feel her nudge my fingers as they trail in the water. “Chey, the dolphins have been forbidden to speak of such things. The Authority warned the Pairings would be stopped if Surface rumors were revealed.”
“You knew?”
“I suspected. I heard the grumblings on our nighttime swims. None wanted to keep it from their Pairings, but to be cast from Maluhia, torn from our partners…”
“All
the time I was grieving, you never thought to mention there could be hope?”
“It was an impossible dilemma. Before the Pairings, dolphins were mercilessly slaughtered in some parts. The tales are still told of how the seas ran red with our blood.” Haku slaps the Surface with her tail in agitation. “Having to choose between being truthful to your Pairing-sister or protect your entire family is not a choice any should have to make.”
“How could you sacrifice ’Bow?” The limitations of Dolphin-speak tear at me. I want to scream in the angry tones of the Universal Language, but I am limited to the ever-calm clicks of the dolphins.
Her splash soaks me. “Chey, do not return to the waters. I do not trust the Authority. He is capable of anything to keep this information from the other pod members.”
A single tear winds its way down my cheek. The moisture feels so different on my unprotected skin. “So it is good-bye.”
“I will find you. Some of the other dolphins have spoken of seeing humans on the Black Rock.”
She could have saved ’Bow. I turn away, refuse to look at her.
“Chey?” She whistles to get my attention. “I love you.”
“You could have saved her!” I scream over the ocean, knowing that Haku will not understand the words, but hoping she will still recognize the meaning. When I finally look, the waters are glassy once more.
Haku has deceived me. The only one who I had left in the world has shown that her loyalty lies elsewhere.
I truly am all alone.
~Midnight~
12
“That was really neat to watch.” Jesse tries to imitate the clicks and whistles of Dolphin-speak, but he talks only gibberish.
His attempts fail to cheer me. Haku is gone. I might never see her again. While a part of me mourns her absence, the bitter poisons of anger and betrayal course through my blood. She knew. But she said nothing.
“Hey, what happened out there?” Jesse traces the scowl lines on my face.
The dam breaks. “She knew! She knew that humans lived above the Surface, and—”
“Of course she knew. Dolphins come above all the time to breathe, after all. They swim alongside our boats at night.”
I cannot stop my body from tensing even more. My fists clench until my nails bite into my unprotected skin. The soothing sway of the sailboat does nothing to quell my turmoil.
“But you didn’t know. She never said anything?” Jesse expression softens. He places his arm around my shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze.
The simple skin-to-skin touch, so rare in my world, invades my senses. I feel his warmth, smell the lingering aroma of the ocean, and see the salty droplets still running down his sea-soaked skin.
In the water, people rarely touch. Our dolphin Pairings are often the only ones we have physical contact with. Why is this? Has the apathy spread too far and too wide to care about such things? Because this… this simple touch brings so much comfort. I rest my head against Jesse’s warm shoulder and turn into the embrace.
“Jesse,” Captain calls. “There’s work to be done. You’ve done enough relaxing for the day.”
Jesse slowly separates from me and heads to the raft, which still hangs close to the waters. I watch him as he begins to haul the raft up.
Alone, Haku’s words echo through my mind. I will find you… Humans on Black Rock. They drive home the reality of the situation. I am being taken from the sea—from my home, from all that I know—and soon, I will set foot on Land.
I watch the sunshine dance across the Surface and gaze at the billowing sails as they flutter in the gentle breeze. The opportunity to see Land—to see above the Surface—is something I have always dreamed of. I cannot let this journey be ruined by my inner negativity.
I visualize all of the feelings that have weighed me down these last few years, and one by one, fling them back into the ocean. Goodbye, sadness. Good riddance, anger.
Jesse watches me from across the deck, ignoring his raft duties. I pull off my whistle and stare at it for a long moment.
I fling it into the sea. Farewell, betrayal.
When I get to my grief, though—so tied together with my memories of ’Bow and my parents—I cannot bear to throw it away. Instead, I imagine tucking it carefully inside of myself, keeping it close but sealed. Near my heart.
*
The boat bustles with activity. Jesse disappeared for several hours. He finally emerged, dripping wet and looking exhausted, and announced the raft maintenance was complete. Danny spent the afternoon teaching me nautical lingo, and I practice these new words, trying to commit them to memory. Captain holds the steering wheel steady as he examines his charts. Danny uses the halyard to adjust the mainsail. Sydney holds a scope to her eyes and scans the seas. Everybody has a job to do. Everyone except for me.
“There’s the float! Starboard side, fifty yards ahead,” Sydney shouts.
“Ah, lucky it’s windward today,” Captain calls back. “Jesse, ready the anchor.”
“I’m heading to help you, Jesse,” Danny yells. He lowers the sails, then hurries over to the rusty anchor. As the crew focuses on a certain area of the sea, I head to the side to watch. More questions bubble up. Why is their boat out here? What is its purpose? I haven’t seen anyone acquiring food. Having watched the group focus over the last few hours, the journey is clearly not for entertainment either.
I want to question Captain, but I stop myself. Under the waters, such inquiries are forbidden. The Committee considers such questioning a form of insubordination. Instead of answers, one receives infractions, consequences, heightened supervision. Captain claims he believes in a consensus model, but I cannot take the risk of angering him. What if he sends me back to the seas? How would I survive now that I have been stripped of my Skin? When I am alienated from my Pairing?
Maybe when we reach Land… I silently review my growing list of questions.
“Drop the anchor!” Captain calls. Jesse and Danny work together to heave the weighted hunk of metal into the waters, and the boat slowly comes to a stop. “Nicely done.” Captain leaves the steering wheel and looks over the side of the boat onto the water.
A large plastic platform drifts upon the Surface. Large enough for all of us to sit upon, the faded yellow float bobs with the waves.
“Empty again,” Sydney says.
“That’s good. Empty is what we hope to find.” Captain crosses back to the steering wheel. “Mission’s complete, so tonight, we celebrate!”
Danny and Sydney raise the anchor, and the boat begins to move again. Jesse heads over to my side of the vessel. “Only one more night at sea. We’ll be home tomorrow.”
Captain returns to the wheel. My questions pour out. “What is that platform for? What is supposed to be on there?”
Jesse doesn’t speak for a long time. “…Well, um, we sort of—”
“Jesse!” Captain glares at him from across the boat.
“I guess I’m supposed to keep it private. Sorry.” Jesse glances toward the front of the boat, where Captain steers. “Must be hard, leaving your home. I feel responsible for getting you injured.”
I touch the bandage and wince. My wound is still sore and healing. “I might not have survived beneath the water anyway. So many do not.”
Jesse’s eyes grow big. “What happens?”
I whisper, “They commit the Unmentionable. They are just… gone.”
“They don’t tell you what happens—”
“Jesse, go clean the deck. You know the rig needs to be ready when we hit land in the morning.” Captain pulls him aside and seems to lecture him. I cannot make out their words, but Captain stares right into his eyes, and Jesse looks just as serious.
Is it forbidden to discuss the Unmentionable, even above the Surface?
Quickly, before the pain and memories grow too big, I hide them away again. I imagine tucking my grief into an oyster shell, then closing it tightly. The oyster is an amazing creature, protecting itself from harm by converting ir
ritants.
I visualize my hurt and loneliness transforming into the rare and unexpected, like a pearl. If only I had the powers of the oyster.
The slow rocking of the boat, the rhythmic splashes of the water, the balmy warmth of the air—all lull me into the most comfortable trance. I slide my eyelids closed—just for a moment—while I remember the peacefulness of last night’s slumber. I cannot say I miss the isolation of my sleeping pod, where the walls close in and my memories haunt me.
*
The Giants surround the boat, bellowing their song. Their groans and calls echo through the water, and their sounds rise over me. But the music transforms, and the Giants sing in the Universal Language. Their long, slow songs transform into a fast-paced melody, unlike anything I have studied.
“The Giants have followed me!” I toss and turn under the white sheet and jolt awake.
“What a dream that must be! Giants—haven’t heard of them except in library books.” Sydney sits by my side, her arms hugging her knees.
“No, the Giants are the largest of the whales.” I pull myself next to her. “I must have been dreaming of their song.” But the music from my dream—the fast-paced, catchy rhythm—has not stopped.
I look across the boat to where Jesse, Captain, and Danny are gathered in a small circle. Captain moves his fingers move rapidly over a strange object. I walk over and peer closely; he quickly flicks the long strings on it.
Jesse holds a cylinder between his legs and taps it: first with his fingers, then harder, with the bottom of his palm. Danny holds a round object in each hand, shaking each as Jesse taps the cylinder. But it is Captain whom I return to, for his object sings to me, playing the same highs and lows of Whale-song.
“What is it?” I whisper, not wanting to disturb the Human-song.
“This instrument’s a guitar.” Captain stops playing and hands it to me. “You look like you want to give it a try. Just stroke the strings, is all.”
