The lavender dawn brought promise of a huge catch. Antonio rigged the nets and cast them into the sea. Soon, it quickened with froth and snapped with sound of collapsing bubbles. Nets bulged with red mullet and mackerel. The winch creaked in the salt air, swung over the deck and splashed it with hundreds of flopping fish.
The lonely fisherman would lose himself to the sea often as he approached his golden years. His wife had passed five years ago. He remembered her words, Look for me in the stars.
The lonely fisherman would lose himself to the sea often as he approached his golden years. His wife had passed five years ago. He remembered her words, Look for me in the stars.
Before the dawn, the stars would sing and every time the nets were filled, he’d sing, too, “Oh, Elisabeth! Look what we caught.”
He swept all the fish into the bin, then stared at the horizon, and for a moment, couldn’t see the ocean kissing the sky as he called out her name, “Oh, Elisabeth.” Salt from watery eyes stung his lips.
Antonio leaned over the rail and inspected the chain; prepared to weigh anchor and head for home to his small village. The Mediterranean was quiescent. The spume—brine mixed with air and oil from writhing fish—slid on gentle swells. Clumps of sargassum weed floated close to the old wooden boat.
He didn’t hear it at first. The raucous caw of gulls had hid the high-pitched sound coming from the fronds. A little voice from the sea squeaked, wafting up—hull to deck. He cocked his head, cupped his ears and squinted his eyes. It came from the flitter in the seaweed:
Help me! Please help me!
Reddish gold scales glinted like a fishing lure snagged on sargassum.
Antonio thought to himself, The voice sounds like it’s coming from that bunch of seaweed... Ah! It’s a well-camouflaged fish that’s entangled there.
With a long-handled net, he scooped the creature with the seaweed and carefully removed the lacey leaves hiding its face—a human-like embossment in the broad sloping nose of the fish. Strands of hair, refulgent in the sun, tucked in as spines. In fact, the whole of a young maiden was pressed into the body of the fish. She spanned twenty inches from the top of her nose to the tip of her tail. Antonio had heard stories of mermaids and sea nymphs, but this creature was nothing like them.
He picked her up, but she yelped. His fingers had accidentally pressed too hard where the body curved above the glittered scales. Even though he gently moved his hands, she contorted in her struggle, as if gasping for air, to mouth something. Finally, shuddered the word, Sh...aaa...ark! Her eyes bulged open as it neared the boat.
Moments later, a violent jolt catapulted Antonio over the rail with the fish creature knocked free from his grasp. Splash. A swoosh of pearly air effervesced encasing him as he sank into the brine. When the curtain of bubbles thinned, though his eyes were blurred by salt, he saw a monstrous shape loom closer. He scissor kicked to evade the shadow, and a mouth full of broad white teeth.
Water began to churn around him and a blue green funnel formed anchored to invisible depths. Everything was strange: he could see and breathe; the monster shark was gone; and the lady-fish finned by him in a tight swept circle. He, too, had become a fish-man. The water funnel cocooned the two of them all the way down to a point, to the starburst. There, it opened to an underwater world—crystal, palatial—shimmering with its own glow. In that secret light, they metamorphosed to human form. She, a princess, was dressed in sheer silk, and her black hair flowed past her waist. She had the countenance of Elisabeth—rich brown eyes that spoke of stars.
“Elisabeth?” said the fisherman, his eyes combing through her hair, searching her face.
“No, Antonio, I am not. I am from a water world, from another galaxy,” she said in a soft familiar voice.
“But…but you look and sound so much like her when she was young… And how do you know my name?”
“I sensed your being when you held me in the boat, when you saved me. I saw your lovely wife in your thoughts.”
“No! This is a dream.” He grabbed her slender arms and pulled her close to him; kissed her hard on the lips.
At first, the princess resisted, but soon melted into his thoughts and felt something she had never experienced.
“You are Elisabeth!” Crying, Antonio continued to hold and caress her. “Where am I?” he whispered.
She didn’t answer him with words. The princess touched his tears, then cupped his face and slid her supple lips over his—locked into the magic of that kiss. And the stars sang inside their single mind—the music threading them together.
The sun sizzled as it slipped into the ocean, dissolving reds and purples into wet merlot. The gray-planked fishing boat bobbed and slapped the water until the sun sank deep into the starless depths. And its silhouette faded into the night leaving only the glass smooth sea reflecting the slosh of stars, all singing in a new constellation.
He swept all the fish into the bin, then stared at the horizon, and for a moment, couldn’t see the ocean kissing the sky as he called out her name, “Oh, Elisabeth.” Salt from watery eyes stung his lips.
Antonio leaned over the rail and inspected the chain; prepared to weigh anchor and head for home to his small village. The Mediterranean was quiescent. The spume—brine mixed with air and oil from writhing fish—slid on gentle swells. Clumps of sargassum weed floated close to the old wooden boat.
He didn’t hear it at first. The raucous caw of gulls had hid the high-pitched sound coming from the fronds. A little voice from the sea squeaked, wafting up—hull to deck. He cocked his head, cupped his ears and squinted his eyes. It came from the flitter in the seaweed:
Help me! Please help me!
Reddish gold scales glinted like a fishing lure snagged on sargassum.
Antonio thought to himself, The voice sounds like it’s coming from that bunch of seaweed... Ah! It’s a well-camouflaged fish that’s entangled there.
With a long-handled net, he scooped the creature with the seaweed and carefully removed the lacey leaves hiding its face—a human-like embossment in the broad sloping nose of the fish. Strands of hair, refulgent in the sun, tucked in as spines. In fact, the whole of a young maiden was pressed into the body of the fish. She spanned twenty inches from the top of her nose to the tip of her tail. Antonio had heard stories of mermaids and sea nymphs, but this creature was nothing like them.
He picked her up, but she yelped. His fingers had accidentally pressed too hard where the body curved above the glittered scales. Even though he gently moved his hands, she contorted in her struggle, as if gasping for air, to mouth something. Finally, shuddered the word, Sh...aaa...ark! Her eyes bulged open as it neared the boat.
Moments later, a violent jolt catapulted Antonio over the rail with the fish creature knocked free from his grasp. Splash. A swoosh of pearly air effervesced encasing him as he sank into the brine. When the curtain of bubbles thinned, though his eyes were blurred by salt, he saw a monstrous shape loom closer. He scissor kicked to evade the shadow, and a mouth full of broad white teeth.
Water began to churn around him and a blue green funnel formed anchored to invisible depths. Everything was strange: he could see and breathe; the monster shark was gone; and the lady-fish finned by him in a tight swept circle. He, too, had become a fish-man. The water funnel cocooned the two of them all the way down to a point, to the starburst. There, it opened to an underwater world—crystal, palatial—shimmering with its own glow. In that secret light, they metamorphosed to human form. She, a princess, was dressed in sheer silk, and her black hair flowed past her waist. She had the countenance of Elisabeth—rich brown eyes that spoke of stars.
“Elisabeth?” said the fisherman, his eyes combing through her hair, searching her face.
“No, Antonio, I am not. I am from a water world, from another galaxy,” she said in a soft familiar voice.
“But…but you look and sound so much like her when she was young… And how do you know my name?”
“I sensed your being when you held me in the boat, when you saved me. I saw your lovely wife in your thoughts.”
“No! This is a dream.” He grabbed her slender arms and pulled her close to him; kissed her hard on the lips.
At first, the princess resisted, but soon melted into his thoughts and felt something she had never experienced.
“You are Elisabeth!” Crying, Antonio continued to hold and caress her. “Where am I?” he whispered.
She didn’t answer him with words. The princess touched his tears, then cupped his face and slid her supple lips over his—locked into the magic of that kiss. And the stars sang inside their single mind—the music threading them together.
The sun sizzled as it slipped into the ocean, dissolving reds and purples into wet merlot. The gray-planked fishing boat bobbed and slapped the water until the sun sank deep into the starless depths. And its silhouette faded into the night leaving only the glass smooth sea reflecting the slosh of stars, all singing in a new constellation.
0 comments:
Post a Comment