Gideon Cahill watched his children run into the surf, their bare feet splashing water up their legs. It was Olivia who had suggested that the children take some time to enjoy the unseasonably warm day, and Gideon had thought it a good idea. With a surge of pride, he watched as seventeen-year-old Luke, eleven-year-old Katherine, nine-year-old Thomas, and six-year-old Jane seemed to melt away into the ocean, one by one. Olivia touched his arm.
"They all seem like little children again," she said softly. "It amazes me how much of an effect the sea has upon them."
"We are all Cahills, are we not, my dear?" Gideon smiled. "Natural mariners all. Never has been any different."
Luke propelled himself downward, going further down into the wet and silent world beneath the lapping foam. He watched the seaweed sway to the currents, felt the little fish nibbling at his feet, and relished the flavor of the salt in his mouth. It was so alive down here- a large fish swept down and closed its teeth around a smaller one. A spurt of scarlet momentarily marred the clear green, but Luke was impressed.
Katherine ducked her head beneath the surface of the water, enjoying the sight of the fish speeding by. She watched their fins flash merrily in the sunlight filtering through the water. She came up for air, shaking her head and flapping her short, wet hair into her face just as Thomas streaked by. I wonder if the fish use their fins to speed up, she thought. Maybe I could build a set for Thomas.
Thomas churned his powerful arms and legs in a steady crawl. His pace, however, was anything but. His previous swimming record was almost impossible for a nine-year-old, but Thomas had done it and was determined to beat it. He counted off the seconds in his head, his muscles compact and his limbs shooting him through the water like an arrow from a bow.
Jane rolled over in the warm, clear water and smiled at the school of fish racing by. She began to plot in her mind how she would paint them later- maybe a mix of blue and green with some silvery white, and a dab of purple on the scales, but just a little. And oh! how lovely those pale golden sands beneath her were! That would be fun to texture. Some yellow paint to start with, and a bit of cream-white…
"Natural mariners all," Olivia repeated fondly. "Never has been any different."