I swim.
Back and foward, back and foward.
I go up for air, I dive back down.
And Zeb swims out, faster than usual. Her tail moves frantically.
She is holding our child.
I rush to help her to the surface, to get the child up for its first breath.
Was I furry when I was born?
And we break the surface, and the baby is gasping, and struggling. Its fur is lank, running with water. Brown fur, brown eyes. Scared eyes.
What is our child?
I look at Zeb. She is tired - the hatching covers a long period of time. She sees my confusion.
"You don't remember being an eevee," she says. I don't understand.
"An eevee? I was - not a vaporean?"
"All of us were eevee. But eevee can't live in the water."
Zeb's eyes are sad. I wish this didn't have to happen. She is so tired...
I offer to take the child. She shakes her head, gently, as to not harm the child.
"Krill, we have to get him to land." I understand. Land - or he dies. I peer over the water. Across. Across. There. Land. I start swimming, and Zeb follows. She trusts me to lead us.
We have swum a long way. Zeb is tired. I offer to take our son again, and this time she does not refuse. She's having a hard enough time swimming as it is. The weather is not kind to us.
And suddenly, in all the waves and wind, I hear a yell.
"Krill!" It is Zeb, and I turn around, dive down, ignoring the child's protests. Zeb - what has happened to Zeb.
I do not find her.
Zeb.
A hacking cough brings me back. I must go on. Once our son is safe - then I can find Zeb. She's strong, she'll cope, I tell myself. She would not be happy if the child died because I looked for her.
Especially when I know she is cannot be alive.
So I push away the pain, and swim foward, using my anger to push me on. The baby is crying. I might be - I can't tell, in the salt water.
Zeb.
Gone.
I am close to land now. I have been trying to not think. But I have. Once my son - Zeb's son - is on land, I will look for her. And if she is not there, her body. I will. I am not far. Just a few tail strokes, just a few more...
I am dumped on the sand, and pick myself up. There is my son. He is no longer crying. He is just looking at me, looking, staring. He is alive. I lick his fur smooth, and turn my head back to the ocean.
I whisper to him a goodbye, and,
"I must find your mother." I shouldn't leave him, I know. But I have to. I have to see for sure.
"I'm sorry," I say, and dive back into the water.
Back and foward, back and foward.
I go up for air, I dive back down.
And Zeb swims out, faster than usual. Her tail moves frantically.
She is holding our child.
I rush to help her to the surface, to get the child up for its first breath.
Was I furry when I was born?
And we break the surface, and the baby is gasping, and struggling. Its fur is lank, running with water. Brown fur, brown eyes. Scared eyes.
What is our child?
I look at Zeb. She is tired - the hatching covers a long period of time. She sees my confusion.
"You don't remember being an eevee," she says. I don't understand.
"An eevee? I was - not a vaporean?"
"All of us were eevee. But eevee can't live in the water."
Zeb's eyes are sad. I wish this didn't have to happen. She is so tired...
I offer to take the child. She shakes her head, gently, as to not harm the child.
"Krill, we have to get him to land." I understand. Land - or he dies. I peer over the water. Across. Across. There. Land. I start swimming, and Zeb follows. She trusts me to lead us.
We have swum a long way. Zeb is tired. I offer to take our son again, and this time she does not refuse. She's having a hard enough time swimming as it is. The weather is not kind to us.
And suddenly, in all the waves and wind, I hear a yell.
"Krill!" It is Zeb, and I turn around, dive down, ignoring the child's protests. Zeb - what has happened to Zeb.
I do not find her.
Zeb.
A hacking cough brings me back. I must go on. Once our son is safe - then I can find Zeb. She's strong, she'll cope, I tell myself. She would not be happy if the child died because I looked for her.
Especially when I know she is cannot be alive.
So I push away the pain, and swim foward, using my anger to push me on. The baby is crying. I might be - I can't tell, in the salt water.
Zeb.
Gone.
I am close to land now. I have been trying to not think. But I have. Once my son - Zeb's son - is on land, I will look for her. And if she is not there, her body. I will. I am not far. Just a few tail strokes, just a few more...
I am dumped on the sand, and pick myself up. There is my son. He is no longer crying. He is just looking at me, looking, staring. He is alive. I lick his fur smooth, and turn my head back to the ocean.
I whisper to him a goodbye, and,
"I must find your mother." I shouldn't leave him, I know. But I have to. I have to see for sure.
"I'm sorry," I say, and dive back into the water.