Issue Three

Sound travels strangely underwater. I
hear Adam shrieking through Jell-O. It
sounds like he is chewing on his own
guts.
I breach the water to see Adam and a
white belly full of teeth spraying above
the waves. It’s pink and red and
foamy. Adam’s screams are the same
as when he had called the boat a
bitch. A horrible giggle burbles in my
gut. I think of hot dogs and saltwater.
The shore isn’t so far. I see a maroon
Subaru peeking over one edge of the
sand dunes. Brett. I stroke my right
arm over my head, then my left. I ignore
the crunching gurgle behind me. You’re
late.
Time moves like water as I swim
towards the beach. Even with the flood
in my ears, nose and mouth, it’s too
quiet.
My eyes have been closed. I don’t mind
saltwater in my eyes, but I’ve not
opened them at all. I am moving with
purpose, so it takes me a few minutes to
realize I’m not swimming alone.
It’s the bulk that strikes me, the sheer
solidity and grace. My eyes sting a bit
when I open them. The shark is
gorgeous. I feel like a clumsy fool
swimming alongside him.
I’ve read that the eyes of a shark are
dead, but this is untrue. Everything is
contained in that blackness, all the
colours, all the horror, all the joy, all the
knowledge.
Those eyes tell me I am beautiful.
I am still pulling water with my palms as
I regard the shark. A bit of debris is
caught in his jagged teeth. I wonder
about the taste of Drakkar Noir, copper
and denim. He is almost close enough
to touch.
My knees hit sand. I stand with a
stumble. The shark is not far away. His
belly must be brushing the sand, rough
and uncomfortable. Yet his tail is
unencumbered, swishing side to side. I
am a bad judge of size, but he is maybe
fifteen feet long.
When the ocean scared me, I’d stomped
the shell of that crab until its claw waved
sadly with the ebb of the water, its life
gone. As I see my companion wagging
his tail at me, I wonder what it would take
to crush him. But a flood of love
squashes my rage until I cannot
PREDATOR