Skipping Stones

The ship jolted, and I was tossed across the water.

I felt the floor lurching beneath me. My hands grasped the rough wood of the ship, holding on for dear life. I didn’t feel my hands slip; it was like two separate moments smashed together, the middle cut out. I was there, and then I wasn’t.

In an instant, nothing but wind on all sides.

They say that time seems to slow down in moments like those, but I never truly believed them until it happened to me. What they don’t tell you is that while time slows, your thoughts don’t get any faster. As I was flung through the air, my only thought was “oh.” No fear, no panic. Just “oh.” This was happening now, and it would be happening until it wasn’t anymore.

I hit the sea like it was a rough carpet, and I swear that I didn’t even get wet before I was in the air again. Later, I remarked that I had skipped like a stone. I never knew that a person could do that. Esca did. She had seen it happen before. Seafarers flung towards the depths, flying along them, before being swallowed whole. That’s what came next: the swallowing.

Water was all around me. I don’t remember submerging, just that I was suddenly there. I didn’t know which way was up. I flailed towards what I thought was the surface, towards the light. I had forgotten that the sun was gone that day, hidden behind the clouds of the storm.

It was no wonder that I mistook her for the sun, my Esca. As the light got closer, so did she. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Orange scales like autumn leaves dusted her cheeks and the tips of her pointed ears. When she looked at me with those big eyes of hers, I swear I couldn’t breathe. She sang a wordless song, one that I know well by now. She’s taught me to sing the way she does. Although my voice is nothing compared to hers, I hold my own alright.

The sun bobbed above her lips, parted to reveal so many teeth, each sharp and shimmering like polished blades. Her radiant skin and glittering scales danced in the darkness of the sea below, and her tail fins and the gills on her neck moved like the flowing skirts I had seen when I lived Above. What a fool I was then, to think such clothes were beautiful. Nothing could compare to Esca.

Shadows encroached on my vision. All I could see was her.

She reached out, her long fingers caressing my cheeks, then reached down and took my hands in hers. Her touch was gentle, but make no mistake, those hands could gut a fish with ease. She wrapped seaweed around our hands and leaned forward, bringing her face to mine, and suddenly I could breathe again.

She untangled us, grabbed my arm, and pulled me deeper. As we sank farther, the water darkened around us, and if it were not for the glow of her lure I fear the darkness would have swallowed me. We traveled deeper still, her tail swishing with such effortless grace. Soon I could make out the bright blue, red, and green coral covering the sea floor. Esca pulled us into a small cave, dimly illuminated by some sort of green algae covering the walls. She sang something indistinct but beautiful, and ducked out as I examined the space that was to become my home.

It was decorated eclectically, with items originating from the ocean and from shipwrecks in equal measure. An ornate wooden table sat in the middle of the space, a small anchor planted in the center. It was covered with a variety of sharp tools and several bones of varying sizes. Algae grew in the cracks of the carved wood, its light reflecting off the less worn of the tools. On the right sat an old bookshelf which housed many of Esca’s treasures, including a large shell full of pearls, a marble bust with a sapphire pendant dangling from its neck, and a golden pocket watch that somehow still ticked. A painting leaned against the opposite wall, its vibrant oranges and pinks depicting a sunset over a mountainous landscape. At the far end of the cave lay a bed of sea sponge and woven seagrass, which I have since found to be surprisingly comfortable.

Esca returned quickly with a large fish. She tore into it with her claws, and offered it to me, looking at me as if I should do the same. I grabbed a small knife off of the table, and dug in. It appeared that my taste buds had adapted to the taste of raw fish, although perhaps they had been ready all my life; I had not tried it Above. This was our first meal together, and we have had many more since then in much the same way. Though I've grown gills, claws unfortunately did not follow, so I’ve stuck to the knives.

She has tried to teach me to catch fish, but she’s so much swifter than I am, and she seems to pull her prey towards her with her radiance. Instead, I teach her to dance as they do Above. Her lack of legs makes things a bit difficult, but she makes do with that beautiful auburn tail of hers. She loves it when I twirl her around, laughing her bubbling laugh, and filling my life with light.

Some nights I regale her with tales of the war. She listens eagerly, smiling at the mention of bloodshed. She’s an unusual one, my Esca, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. She asks if I miss it, and I tell her no, I do not miss the war, but only the sun and the wind. But I am being truthful when I say that I will never need to see the sky ever again, as long as I have her with me. She is all the light I need.

On the day I sank below the waves, I did not know much, but I knew then: Esca would never be lonely again, and neither would I.