Cerulean (One Thousand Blues)

by Anna Kyss

Who would have imagined that humans could make their own song? Why was this abandoned when we went underneath? I rub the… instrument… reverently, before running my fingers across the strings. Twangs reverberate, but sound nothing like the song that was playing. I try to stroke the strings faster, then slower, but the pretty melody never appears.

  “Stop teasing her.” Jesse turns to me. “You have to learn how to play. There’re chords and different notes and all to memorize before you can make music.”

  “I can teach you, if you like.” Captain takes his instrument back.

  “What is the purpose of this song?” The whales carry valuable information from afar. The dolphins help us to communicate in a land without air. What is Human-song for?

  “The purpose?” Captain smiles. “You underneathers! It ain’t got no purpose besides sounding pretty and helping us pass the time.”

  An archaic word comes to mind: entertainment. In the A.W., humans spent time and money on creating ways to have fun. Some people’s specialties focused entirely on pleasuring people. In the learning pod, entertainment sounded so strange. But here, listening to Human-song, I finally understand.

  “Well? Would you like a lesson?” Captain offers once more.

  “I—I think I will just listen.”

  They begin playing again, and I let the song roll over me: the ups and downs of the melody, the underlying beat—so similar to my heart—and the voices of everybody singing. Human-song is beautiful.

  Danny walks over and pulls Sydney up by her hand. He spins and twirls her to the tune of the song. In the bright light of the moon and the flickering glow of the lanterns, she throws back her head and laughs.

  Jesse sets his instrument down, then sits next to me. “Do you like dancing?”

  “Dancing?”

  He points to Sydney and her partner. “You’re staring at Danny and Syd. I thought you might like dancing.”

  Another new word: dancing. “We do not have… dancing… in the waters.”

  He grins at me. “I get to be your first dance partner?”

  “I am not sure how…”

  Jesse pulls me to my feet. “Think of the fun I’m going to have teaching you.”

  Fun. Such a powerful word, but so easily tossed around up here, where smiles and laughter and joy seem part of everyday life. Jesse still holds my hand and he begins to move—his feet, his body, his arms—to the beat of the music. At first, I am pulled with him. Later, I watch and mimic his movements.

  My body revels in the fast motions. Unable to swim, my muscles have felt cramped and tight. This movement feels so good. Without warning, Jesse spins me outward, then draws me back. I sigh as the song ends, not ready for it to stop.

  Jesse leaves me to whisper something in Captain’s ear. Captain pauses the Human-song to stare at Jesse, then he shrugs and begins to stroke the cords once more. The song slows; the melody is more drawn out.

  Jesse grabs my hand again, but this time, he rests his other hand along my back, pulling me close. He sways to the soft melody. Jesse still smells of the ocean, of home, and I place my face closer and sniff deeply. His lips lower and brush against my hair.

  Our movements remind me of seahorses, swimming in unison with bodies wrapped around one another, and I freeze. The seahorses’ connected swim is their mating ritual. Is this dancing a human mating ritual?

  My cheeks burn as I pull away. “Thank you for the lesson.”

  Jesse stares at me and runs one thumb down my cheek. “My pleasure.”

  The sky twinkles and glistens. The moon hangs low. Stars—too many to count—fill the remainder of the vast nighttime space. There are bright stars, twinkly ones, and some almost too dim to see. The moon and the stars, Human-song and dancing—my mind rings with all the wonders this day has held.

  I stare long into the night, watching the stars dance across the night with a backdrop of music and laughter and joking.

  Questions still plague me. Why would the Authority keep this beauty and joy from us? Why would he deny us the Surface?

  ~Tropical~

  13

  The next morning, Captain calls, “Let’s get our rig back to shore.”

  The boat is sailing home… toward Land. I will finally get to see the wonders I have dreamed of. Tingles of excitement run down my arms, then widen to engulf my entire body.

  “Li’l mermaid, are you ready for your first trip onto the island?” Captain grins at me.

  I am ready—to smell a flower, stick my toes in the sand, look up into the trees—to experience the namesakes of friends and family. I cannot wait to arrive at Land.

  I wait at the front of the boat, but see only ocean. Lingering doubts arise as I watch the waters. To leave my home, to say good-bye to the waters… Am I making the best choice?

  But what other option do I have? The Authority would not let me return to my normal way of life, and the monotony of my daily routine was draining me. Besides, I have no one left to return to. Maybe I should embrace this new experience. Perhaps change presents as an unexpected opportunity.

  Sydney shouts, “Land-ho! We’re home!”

  An island appears, green and lush, surrounded by the cerulean of the seas—my first glimpse of Land.

  Soon, Land spreads as far as I can see. As we sail closer, I can make out more details: tall swaying objects rise from the ground (trees); golden stretches of sand sit close to the water (beach); and people, so many people.

  Captain steers the boat next to a wooden landing, while Jesse and Danny lower the anchor. Sydney throws loops of rope across posts on the landing, then jumps over to tighten the knots.

  “Good journey.” Captain nods his head at each of the crew.

  “Good journey,” echoes back, multiple voices blending together.

  “Are you ready?” Jesse takes my hand. “Don’t worry. Our kin are friendly. Besides, I’ll be there to help you.”

  Jesse jumps onto the landing, then leans back over, and lifts me over the gap. Once we are securely on the landing, I try to take a step, but I stumble against him. He takes my hand again and wraps his other around my waist. The island people have moved near the landing, crowding the front of the small wooden structure.

  Captain and the others have entered the swarm of people. As Jesse steps forward, I hesitate. There are fewer people than live in my sector, but they all look so… enthusiastic. The sea of pink and brown bodies seems so different from the familiar blues of our Skins.

  Jesse squeezes my hand. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, then we step forward into the crowd.

  “Welcome home, son.” A woman, her long black hair tipped with silver, embraces Jesse in an enormous hug. She looks me up and down, then walks away.

  A skinny man, wearing only shorts, pats Jesse across the shoulder. “Welcome home.”

  Soon hands are hugging and rubbing and squeezing all around me. Some people approach me, trying to embrace me, but I press closely against Jesse.

  “Welcome home!” a female voice shouts.

  “Welcome home,” other voices repeat.

  Jesse wraps his arm around me, squishing me against him. “Good to see everyone! We are going to get some space. Chey just arrived, after all.”

  We pass Captain, but he whispers so fervently to the black-haired woman that he does not even seem to notice us.

  The questions begin as we leave the landing, but I want to escape them—leave the crowds, the noise, the chaos. Jesse leads me along a small path that heads away from the landing. The path seems to sway with my initial steps, but Jesse does not allow me to fall.

  The sound of the people gradually fades.

  I breathe in the aroma of Land: fragrant with a bit of sweet, different from the salty-sunshine smell of the ocean and the stale air of the oxygen-pods.

  Plants grow everywhere, creating living walls on either side of us. The soil crunches underneath my bare feet. Sunlight still streams through the green growth and gives the air an emerald sheen.

  Jesse points out
the names of new things as we walk. There is so much to remember, so much to take in. The path… trail… winds its way through unusual plants. I want to stop and look at everything. I pause at a delicate pink growth, stroke its soft velvet… blossoms, smell its aroma… so different from the sea.

  “Sorry about that. We consider it good luck to greet each returning boat. We might be a bit too keen about the greetings though.” Jesse lets go of my hand.

  I miss its warmth. “We do not… touch… very often in the waters. At least, pod members do not usually touch one another; we are very affectionate toward our Pairings, though.”

  “People not touching? Wow, I had heard it was harsh underneath, but—”

  Maybe away from Captain, Jesse will give me some of the answers I have been craving. “How have you heard? How do you get information about Maluhia, when we have not learned of you?”

  “Captain says it’s not time yet—”

  “Time for what?”

  “I can’t.” He looks away.

  Unfamiliar red-hot anger races through me. “Why are you keeping things from me?” I thought we were building a friendship.

  “I wish…” He looks down the path, not meeting my eyes.

  “What? What do you wish?”

  Jesse just shakes his head.

  “I want to be by myself. Where can I rest?”

  “Sydney offered to share her place. She has the first hut on the path.”

  I walk even faster, distancing myself from Jesse. I stumble again, but catch myself before falling.

  “Chey!”

  I do not stop. “I just want to be alone.” Please leave. The overly friendly people, Land, the lack of answers—all are so overwhelming that I desperately need space.

  “Okay. I’ll be just down the path if you need anything.” Jesse turns to head back toward the shore.

  I never imagined that I would miss the silence of my home. In Maluhia, the lack of conversation seemed isolating; here, after days of constant interaction, the quiet brings peace. I close my eyes against the unanswered questions and the frustrating vagueness.

  I am on Land. Another of my dreams, fulfilled.

  My legs have begun to throb from the steep hike. When I pictured Land, I never imagined the heaviness it would bring. My body, so used to the buoyancy of the waters, aches.

  Soon a little hut appears among the trees: the walls formed from sliced wood and the roof lined in overlapping leaves. Who knew a house could be so… inviting?

  My frustration over everyone’s vagueness builds, but I look at the intriguing hut and the surrounding gardens. I can waste my hours being angry, or I can use the time to explore the wonders of Land. I suspect anger’s fire has no more use than grief’s liquidity. I shove them both aside and step onto the grounds surrounding the cottage.

  The small square garden is a rainbow of color, Land’s equivalent of the reef. Trees grow, squat brown trunks with wide green leaves. Tall plants stand higher than my head in greens and reds and yellows. Flowers grow everywhere: tiny pink blossoms, delicate white blooms, tall purple petals. Fragile vines crawl upward, while beds of blossoms spread along the ground.

  “Lovely, isn’t it?” Sydney throws her backpack down.

  I cannot stop looking all around. “Thank you for sharing your home with me.”

  “We’re going to have so much fun. Anyway, I get lonely by myself.”

  Lonely? People could feel lonely up here, in this land of sunshine and laughter? Maybe our two worlds are not so different. “Where is your family?”

  Sydney does not answer for a long time. She pulls flower blossoms from different plants.

  “My parents died in an accident when I was young,” she finally says. “I don’t talk about it much.”

  We have both lost our parents. Sydney must understand the grief and the missing. “Did you have to move to a children’s residence?”

  “I don’t know what a ‘children’s residence’ is. Captain took me in. He’s all alone too, so we bonded together to make a family.” She carefully threads the blossoms onto a thin, green vine.

  The differences between our worlds come surging back. “Does Captain sleep here?”

  She shakes her head. “He only sleeps on his boat. That sailboat is his baby. When I was old enough, I moved back up here, to my parents’ home.”

  A small bird flies down, lands on a thicker vine, and sings. Bird-song. The rumors are true; the birds do sing as beautifully as the whales.

  “Are you hungry? They serve a community meal near the beach each evening.”

  I am not ready to leave the solitude of the gardens. “I am hungry, but… I need some time.”

  Sydney finishes fiddling with the string of flowers. She ties it together, leans over, and drapes the flower necklace over my head. “This is an old custom, left over from our ancestors.”

  “What does it mean?” The flowers tickle my neck and engulf me in their sweet smells.

  Sydney hugs me. We sit together, two orphans, one from the sea and one from the Land. “Welcome. Welcome home.”

  ~Cloud~

  14

  The next morning, I wake to Sydney noisily searching through her chests. She has gathered a small group of glass bottles together and is making two piles of clothing. The first rays of sunshine peek through the window, and the soft glow of lavender light spreads through the room.

  “Do you always wake up so early?” I ask.

  “Today’s Sunday.”

  “Yesterday was a sunny day, too.”

  Sydney giggles. The unfamiliar sound of her spontaneous laugh still startles me. “Not sunny day. Sunday.”

  I pause, confused for a few moments until I remember the archaic calendar words. “This is a special day of the… week?”

  “Sunday’s very special, you’ll see. First, we need to clean ourselves.” Sydney tosses me a fresh dress, then picks up her assortment of bottles. “I have a special shower out back. Danny helped me hook it up.”

  “Shower?” This time, the meaning doesn’t come at all.

  Sydney walks out to her garden, not pausing to answer. I follow.

  While most of the area is wide open, she leads me to a small corner boxed in with trees and tall tropical plants. Clumps of smooth, yellow arcs poke from one of the trees, and I reach out my hand to examine the growths more closely.

  “Bananas. You should eat one.” Sydney rips one right off the tree and opens it, handing it to me. “We fast as soon as the pink disappears from the sky.”

  I watch as Sydney eats her own, then bite into the pale flesh and chew. My taste buds perk. There are so many sugar-kissed foods above the Surface. In the waters, food was served for practicality: protein-laden fish, nutrient-dense seaweeds. Food for pleasure was not even considered. The sweet fruits and tasty meals might be my favorite part about Land.

  Sydney sets out her little containers as I finish my… banana. “I traded with Sara for the bath goodies. She makes her own soaps, shampoos, and lotions with ingredients from the island. Smell this one: papaya coconut. It’s my favorite.”

  I just stare at the items, unsure what to do. They don’t seem to be for food.

  Sydney looks up at me. “Did you have showers underneath? I wasn’t even thinking…” She turns a knob, and water falls from a metal circle that is attached to a long tube. “How did you get clean?” She turns the knob off once more.

  “Clean? If our Skin started to dull, we would polish it with a salt scrub.” I am beginning to understand the shower. I have noticed a smell developing, but I thought that might be a part of being above the water. The oxygen pods always reeked, so why wouldn’t Land?

  Sydney grins. “If you don’t want to scare Jesse off, you’ll have to get used to the shower.” She points to a large plastic tub, which hangs from the tallest of the trees. “We harvest the rainwater for our showers. Be quick! I need one too.”

  After giving a quick explanation about how each bottle is used, Sydney heads back to the house. I
set my dress on the little bench next to the showers and turn the knob. Warm water sprinkles my body. After so many days of dryness, the moisture feels glorious.

  I squeeze… shampoo… and gently rub it into my braids. The smell of coconut infuses the warm water. The fruity liquid soap washes away the dried salt and sand that cake my skin. Every way I turn, I am encased by fragrant smelling vegetation: the banana trees, the giant palms, little flowering vines.

  My first shower is lovely.

  Reluctantly, I turn off the water. I toss my head, water droplets flying from my braids. I pour some of the… lotion… into my hands and rub it up and down my arms and legs, as Sydney instructed. Now, the fruity-coconut smell lingers, filling the air around me with my own perfume.

  “Did you like?” Sydney asks when I enter the hut.

  I smile. “When do we get to shower again?”

  “Every Sunday. In between, we might visit the ‘falls or a swimmin’ hole, but the showers are special for Sundays.” She picks up her own clothes and heads out the door. “See you in a few.”

  *

  After Sydney bathes, she leads me down the winding path to the landing. The wooden dock and the nearby beach are empty this morning.

  “Rotting coconuts! We missed everybody.” Sydney scowls. “I can’t believe they didn’t wait for us.”

  A honk sounds, startling me, but Sydney claps her hands together. A long red thing sails down the widest path. Jesse and Danny sit in the back, but Captain mans the steering wheel. The odd thing is they are not on water; they sail across the Land.

  “The Camaro?” Sydney jumps in the back, between Danny and Jesse. “What’s the special occasion? We never get to use the convertible.”

  “Well, I thought it only fitting that our Chevrolet here ride up to the House of Sun in her namesake car.” Captain gestures for me to board.

  Jesse climbs out of the back and opens his arms, as if for an embrace. “Are you excited?”

  I ignore him and seat myself next to Captain. Jesse quietly moves to the backseat, but I catch the silent looks that Danny and Sydney exchange. After Haku’s betrayal, I do not feel inclined to grow close to anybody… especially one who keeps secrets from me.