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Swim
I was snorkeling one afternoon in the often-murky waters of
my hometown. The visibility was as hazy as ever. I swam
among the usual schools of fish and took care to avoid the
Sharks, Barracudas and little Prickly fish that can be so
annoying if they brush against you. As I swam over the top
of my favorite reef,
A most beautiful light caught my eye ...
In the murk, I couldn’t see what it was emanating from ...
but without a thought, my fins pushed me straight towards
it. Gliding over the flat grassy bottom between the reef and
the shore my heart began to race in disbelief ...
There ...
Swimming just under the waves ...
Looking at me ...
Was a Mermaid ...
When you stop laughing, I want you to picture how I felt. I
couldn’t believe it, and I knew no one else would either.
But my fascination wasn’t the fact that she was a Mermaid at
all ... I was awestruck by the light that shined all around
her.
It was amazing. It wasn’t any one color ... It was all
colors ... and no color at all. Its radiance and sparkle
were absolutely captivating. I couldn’t look away from it
even if I had wanted to ... And I didn’t want to. If she had
turned out to be some kind of ocean going huntress in search
of her next meal, I would have easily been her next victim.
I would have willingly done anything to be shown in that
breathtaking light.
Lucky for me she was harmless ... at least physically. I had
to remind myself to take breaths as I tried to get closer
without scaring her away ... Like I said, she was looking at
me too. The light continued to lure me ... I was held there,
completely helpless, in its grasp. As I gazed into it, I
couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.
At first, I thought it was her smile. Then I thought it
might be from her eyes ...
But I was wrong on both counts ...
The light was coming from her ...
I could feel it around me like a warm breeze on a balmy
Florida night.
I wanted to stay there ...
Forever ...
Forever in that moment of seeing this wondrous spectacle for
the first time. But time is persistent and often cruel. And
the moment left me. I was distracted by shadows that
appeared in the light as I got closer. My emotions swirled
like an eddy in a tidal pool as I realized what the shadows
were ... Her light had attracted many other swimmers and as
I looked at their faces I could see that they had been
attracted to the light, just like me.
I didn’t know whether to be jealous or feel sorry for them
... after all, I still didn’t know her intentions. I watched
them staring into the light ... I knew how they felt ... But
in that moment I also felt what they wanted. I began to
recognize some of them as Sharks, Barracudas and Prickly fish
...
Part of me wanted to chase them off ...
To defend and protect her. But I am a live and let live-type
of person. Besides, out here in the ocean, if you let your
guard down to save someone ... you might just find yourself
as the meal instead. I chose to keep my distance and watch
her. But to my overjoyed amazement, she spoke to me. I
didn’t understand her language, nor she, mine. But we were
able to communicate enough to begin some kind of bond. It
was all I could hope for. It was all so quixotic.
That first encounter ended all too soon. After all, I
couldn’t stay in her world for long ... and, I would soon
find out, she couldn’t stay in mine. Everyday I would return
to that area near the reef. I couldn’t help myself. I could
see her light even when I closed my eyes ... it had, for
those first few days become part of me. Its grip was warm
and welcome. With each visit I tried with all my might to
teach her my language and to learn hers. There were many
moments when the frustration from lack of understanding
pushed us apart. But, I was so enamored with her, that I not
only braved the Sharks, Barracuda and Prickly fish, I went
and got my license to scuba dive so that I could spend more
time in her world.
She seemed to appreciate my efforts, but the first few times
I tried to bring her to my world, She changed her mind or
something drew her back to the sea. I would walk up on to
the beach and turn to see her reaction to its beauty, but
she was gone. I wanted to hold her hand as I swam towards
the shore but I’m not like that. I needed to know that she
wanted to come to my world. That was important to me and I
felt like maybe that would help her understand me better ...
More frustration.
One evening on the third or fourth try, I found myself alone
in the surf again. I was convinced by this time that she
didn’t want to come to my world. She always seemed
appreciative of my coming to hers and even eager to come to
mine ... but each time, I walked up onto the beach alone. I
walked along in the sand that night ... My head slightly
hanging. I didn’t know whether to be mad or frustrated. Our
communication hadn‘t improved much in those first few weeks.
I turned to look at the Moon, as it set, big and orange into
the ocean. I looked across the waves for her light but it
wasn’t there. Sadly I closed my eyes as I tried to think of
what I should do ... And there it was ... The light ... it
washed over my face with a smile ... her smile ... my smile
...
I wanted to let it go, but I couldn’t. I stood there for
what seemed like forever and basked in its warmth. But the
thought, or maybe the realization that she was never going
to come to my world, made me open my eyes ... And, the
moment left me ... briefly ...
To my amazement, there she was. She had walked up out of the
surf while my eyes were closed. I looked at her and for a
second I thought the light was gone. I was wrong ...
It wasn’t gone ...
It had become my light too ... or maybe she had finally let
me stand inside it with her ... I’m not sure to this day
which. Those few precious hours with her in my world meant
more to me than I could ever say. The look in her eyes and
the way we communicated that night made me feel incredible.
She shared so many things about herself; her world and her
life with me that I felt honored and even privileged to be
enlightened with such insight about her. I found myself
effortlessly sharing some of my innermost thoughts and
emotions with her as well. By the time the sun came up, She
was curled up under my arm as we slept on the floor. I was
sure when we awoke that she would have to return to her
world ... but to my amazement she actually asked to spend
more time with me! I was overjoyed.
There are those that have said that too much of a good thing
is bad. Even a hedonist like me can agree with that. But I
would have given anything to have more of those moments with
her.
They were incredible.
They were without inhibitions ...
They were without tension ...
They were without stress ...
But more than anything ... They were without motive.
We were two glorious beings ... both quite different ...
Both quite the same ... sharing a few timeless moments
together; neither wanting any more than a deeper knowledge
of the other.
It was beautiful.
But perhaps it was too much for her … being out of her world
for too long. She had told me she’d not left it in a very
long time. I was glad to help her come out of her shell and
look inward on herself a little. She had done the same for
me whether she realized it or not. But let’s face it, my
world can be a little overwhelming sometimes and I think she
had had the proverbial “Too much of a good thing”.
She almost seemed to panic. Her mood was one of aloofness
and anxiety. Her statements started to become irrational and
I found myself feeling not only frustrated ... but also
guilty. I was asking too much for her to spend so much time
with me.
I know ... It was She who had asked for the extension of our
meeting. But I should have said no and let it end on a good
note. After all ... Time is persistent. I had all the time
in the world ... or so I thought. But, like I said earlier,
I would have given anything to make those few moments last
forever. She was wonderful. It turns out that those were our
last moments. I took her to the beach and watched her as she
waded back into her world. I begged her to let me come back
to the ocean with her but she refused. Something I’d said or
done had made her think that I now had a motive of some
sort. I couldn’t convince her otherwise. I tried, but it was
futile.
I watched her slip under the waves and she was gone ... And
so was her light. I was so confused ... I didn’t know
whether to be relieved or hurt ... blessed or angry. After a
few nights, her light returned in the form of her siren
calls from deep beneath the waves ... I would lay in my bed
late, late at night and listen to them.
They were confusing at first, but when I realized she was
hearing me as well, I became at peace with the whole thing.
I was thankful for those few precious moments and sad to
think that our inability to understand each other had pushed
us so far back into our own worlds.
I guess there’s some comfort in knowing though ... that time
is persistent.
I think
of her often.
-Jeff Gaines
(In case you haven't figured it out
... this story and "My Best Friend" are NOT stories about
horses or mermaids ... they are metaphorical pieces about
women that I've been with. Telling those stories outright
would be too painful and I often write these pieces for my
own therapy. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to the girls
either. That is why I called this collection "The Way I See
It." I love the way the metaphor format came out anyway.
It's better than names ... )
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