Your Dreamland
“Aren’t you
afraid?”
My voice slices
through their sunny, sickening giggles. Robert’s pretending to push Shelly off
the boat as she pokes his stomach, and their hips bump together as we slide over
the waves. Their flirtatious banter is making me seasick. I grab the accelerator
and slow us down, the engine quieting to a low rumble.
They pause and
stare at me. I watch their smiles tighten as they take in my brown tangles
scooped up in a rubber-band-bun, my raggedy wetsuit, my tired eyes. Scuba
instructors are supposed to be the human equivalent of dolphins—peppy, young,
adventurous, welcoming, and ready with tricks to share.
Honey, I feel Shelly whining
telepathically to her husband, why did we
end up with her? As if he
received the message, Robert wraps his blue-wet-suited arms around Shelly and
grabs a tendril of her soft white hair.
“What’s there to
be scared of, mate?” he asks with a heavy Australian accent. It sounds fake,
like the costumed fish characters at
“What!” Shelly
shrieks. “You didn’t tell me there were gonna be sharks! Robbie!” She burrows
into his chest, exaggerating her shivers so much that it looks like she’s having
a seizure.
“There are no
sharks,” I say, looking out at the open emerald water. It’s two in the
afternoon, and the
I look back into
their smiling eyes. “I was just asking if you’re scared because of the incident
a few weeks ago? You know, the reason that the sea was blocked off…?” I trail
off.
They stare at me
again, and I realize that they’ve probably been honeymooning in sunny resorts
for the past month, focused on tender kisses and coconut suntan oil instead of
missing persons.
“What incident?”
demands Shelly, running her pink fingernails up and down her goose-bumped arms.
I should have
stayed quiet.
“Never mind,” I
say. “I was just joking with you. You’re going to have a great time.”
Just like we
used to have.
***
As the cold
washed over you, did you remember how wonderful it used to be? Did you picture
that first spring break? Did you imagine the streets of
I miss you when
I think about
We separated one
morning after an argument stemmed by a group of men calling out to me in my
short yellow dress. I explored the flea markets and you explored the fish
markets and eventually we met up again in the afternoon for scuba. As I dove
deeper and deeper down into the abyss of pink fish and red coral and sparkling
seaweed, you were right beside me. And under the water, where talking was
impossible, all was forgiven.
***
I look down at
my rusty compass and steer us west. Shelly and Robert are lying on the warm
wooden floor. His face is in her sweaty armpit, which makes me gag a bit, and
she’s whispering into his ear. I catch the words
weird and
regret this. He’s just making little
uh-huh noises and stroking her sun-burnt cheek.
We’re finally at
the yellow buoy. Its red stripes stick out of the water, and the foam bobs up
and down under the clear waves.
“Ready to dive?”
I ask.
“I’m not so sure
now,” says Shelly, her green eyes wavering.
“Sweetie, come
on. We didn’t just pay this much money to take a thirty-minute boat ride and
turn around. We have the lovely Lucy here to help us. And we took all those
scuba lessons last month! Give it a try at least?”
She looks back
at him and nods okay. He grins. Begging always works.
“Good choice,” I say.
“Coral reefs are magical. You’ll never want to leave the water once you’re down
there.”
You told me you
never wanted to leave the water. You got your wish.
***
“Lucy?” you
said, as if my name was a question, while you ran your finger around the
parameter of my left hand, pausing at the shimmering golden ring. “We need to
talk.”
I put down my
lemonade. The sounds of the café filtered away, the clinking porcelain plates
and gossiping waitresses and gurgling babies dulling. All I could hear was my
heart beating. I knew what was coming.
“What’s up?” I
asked, trying to even my voice.
“You know how
I’ve been out of work recently?” you asked. I nodded. What did work have to do
with us breaking up?
“Well, I’ve been
thinking about possible job opportunities, and I remembered scuba diving in
“Uh huh…”
“And I
remembered our dream of one day living in
“And?”
“Come on, Lucy,
you know what I’m getting at. I’m sick of the monotony of the states. Let’s move
to
You continued,
mumbling about living on the beach, and I stopped listening. But when you asked
if I was in, I couldn’t say no. You made it sound magical.
So we left.
***
They came
prepared in matching pink and blue wet suits, but I toss over some additional
gear. I give Robert two pairs of brand-new flippers and help strap on their
breathing tanks, then connect tubes to their masks.
“So you took a
few classes before, right?” I ask.
“Sure,” Shelly
says, as she rustles around in her backpack, searching for something. I assume
it’s a camera. But when I glance down, I see she’s gripping a compact mirror.
As she pulls her
hair into a bun, making Robert hold up the mirror, and puts on another layer of
water-proof mascara, I pull on my own breathing tank and mask. I grab my
flippers and step into each one, forcing the plastic over my feet.
After I anchor
the motor to the buoy, I reach out my arms.
“Okay, so you’re
going to grip my hands and then slowly drop into the water. Before you sink,
practice breathing a few times. Then, turn and swim down, making sure to breathe
through your nose so your ears don’t…” As I rattle off instructions, their eyes
glaze over, and I remember that there’s not really a point to them completely
understanding the art of scuba.
“Alright, mate,”
says Robert. “Can we get started?”
“Of course,” I
say. I grasp their hands and we each plop into the water. And then, suddenly, I
give them a signal and we’re off. I hear the familiar sound of my breath, the
whir of oxygen traveling through the plastic. As I float downwards, I watch
Robert and Shelly. Their fingers are interwoven and they grin through their
masks, pointing to sparkling yellow fish. It’s just like us, before it all.
***
It was okay at
first, when we were trained together and would skip home each night, salty from
the ocean and ready to eat sticky sweet oranges shipped to
But you started
disappearing. I remember that first night you were gone. I woke up cold,
shivering, my skin covered in goosebumps. The comforter was on the floor and the
bed was empty. I looked through the house, calling your name, but I couldn’t
find you.
Four hours and
three boxes of tissues later, you re-appeared, dripping wet.
Your answer to
my sobs and questions?
“I was scuba
diving.”
***
They’re deeper
now. Shelly’s ponytail released itself as they swam down, and her flowing hair
reminds me of the rare translucent octopi, white and reaching, ready to be
preyed upon.
I float in a
patch of seaweed, waiting for them to discover the coral caves. They will. They
always do. You knew about them, but you didn’t suspect a thing when I lured you
in.
***
I had to do it.
You were always gone, your seat at the table empty, your pillow freezing. I
learned to cook, to care for myself. My friends tactfully sat me down and asked
if we were still together; they never saw you anymore. I said
yes but I meant
for now.
You were
obsessed with it, with scuba, with disappearing from the world and exploring
this hidden jungle. You were hooked to this drug, in love with it, and you
didn’t need me anymore.
I started going
crazy trying to bring you back, cooking you Mexican food with salsa verde like
before. But now it was different.
***
They’ve found
it. They’re jumping into the hole, the trap, touching the glassy white patterns.
Schools of rainbow fish tickle their feet, and their giggles turn into tiny
bubbles that will slowly travel up to the surface as the only evidence that
they’re down here.
I follow them.
They can’t hear me, see me. All they can feel is the water and the artificial
air in their lungs.
I plunge forward
and grab the air tubes. Just like always.
***
You didn’t
expect it. Any of it. I’d stopped teaching scuba lessons then and was working in
the neighborhood coffee shop, so I remember your eyebrow raise when you found me
sitting in your boat in the backyard at five in the morning. Waiting.
As we swam down
once again, I knew it was finally over. You were an expert, but I was a gymnast,
and I knew how to leap up from under you in the water. I grabbed your tube and
watched as your lungs filled with water. You shrunk, your body convulsing, the
pores of your skin expanding. I couldn’t watch, but I knew it was right. You
were in a dreamland, and I had to save you.
***
They scream,
their high-pitched underwater voices dissolving into the empty ocean. Their
hands turn white as they grip each other and try to swim towards the surface. I
kick Shelly and push her deeper into the cave, then Robert. I push harder, with
my fins, and then race away, towards the surface. They’ll never make it up
alive. As I feel the water flipping off my skin as I swim up up up, I smile.
There are fish around me and my boat outside and I just saved another couple
from our fate. Your fate. Your dreamland.