Two Fish

thirty one || alaska

Thudding heart. Sweaty palms. Dilated pupils. Churning stomach. They were all things Alaska had only ever felt when she was constricted, trapped somewhere she didn’t want to be with people she didn’t want to be with. But now, she was walking through the open fields with Elver and she felt the same way, and she knew it was a good thing.  When she caught Elver’s eye, she saw that his huge pupils were monopolising his dark irises. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand and it sent a tingle snaking up her spine. She dropped his hand.

“Alaska? Are you ok?” he asked, stopping in front of her.

“Yeah, fine,” she said. She couldn’t admit that she got nervous, so she let their fingers meet again and tried to quell the rising wave of nerviness. “Where’re we going now?”

“I didn’t really think that far ahead,” Elver said. “I don’t really want to go home.”

“Why?”

“Cathy’s still sick and Mum’s just fussing round her. I’d only get in the way.”

“Oh. Well, shall we go to the beach?”

Alaska wished she’d had a camera on her for Elver’s reaction. She laughed.

“You look like I just suggested we go and torture a kitten. We don’t have to go in the sea, if you don’t want. Just, you know. It’s sunny. We might as well make the most of it.”

After a forever-long pause, Elver nodded.

“Ok.”

“You sure?”

He paused again. “Ok.”

“Ok. Let’s go.”

The beach was crowded on the right side of the pier but the left was a lot quieter. Alaska held Elver’s hand more to make sure he didn’t run away than for anything else. Their feet sank through the stones, slipping over the beach’s banks at a safe distance from the shore as they headed towards the small patch of sand, fifty or so metres away. Sand was a rarity on the stony beach.

“Where’re we going?” Elver asked. His voice was taut and he was glancing from side to side, tightening his grip on Alaska’s hand.

“Just to the sand. Jeez, I’m not gonna dunk you in the sea just yet.”

“Just yet?” He stopped walking and Alaska nearly fell over trying to pull him along the stones.

“I won’t dunk you. Ok?”

“Hmm,” he said, but he allowed himself to be pulled again. They settled on the tiny patch of inexplicable sand amongst the smooth, sea-worn stones. “We’re kind of close to the sea.”

“It’s, like, fifteen metres away,” Alaska said. She fanned out her skirt and lay back. Elver cautiously copied her. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he slowly allowed himself to relax, laying his head on the sand. Every time Alaska moved, he flinched.

“Just relax,” she said, swatting him with her hand. He caught it and held it over his heart.

“Feel that?” he asked.

“That’s a heartbeat. A pretty fast one, too.”

“That’s what happens when you talk about the sea. I hate the sea,” he said, though it was only half true: he also loved it when she talked, and that did nothing to slow his pulse. Alaska replaced her hand with her ear, listening to the thud-thud-thud of Elver’s heart.

Under the hot afternoon sun with the backdrop of the sea and the background of the waves, she fell asleep with her head on his chest. It was a wonderfully snug snooze – she could hear the ocean licking the shore and the children squealing in the water but it was muffled by a thin layer of unconsciousness.

It might have been ten minutes or two hours, she wasn’t sure, but some time later, Alaska was awoken by Elver screeching.

“What the hell was that for?” she asked, jumping away. It was right in her ear, still ringing inside her head. Then the waves lapped at her bare toes and she laughed. Elver looked traumatised. “Seriously? You got wet socks?”

“I wasn’t expecting it. I was asleep,” he said, scurrying up a little higher. Alaska knelt in front of him.

“You didn’t have to alert the entire city of the incoming tide,” she said. She bent over his feet to pull off his socks, stuffing them into his shoes. “Now’s as good a time as ever.”

“What for?”

“Well, you already got your sea awakening. You might as well paddle.”

“Nuh-uh. No way. I’m not going in the water.” He tried to move away from Alaska but the sand had run out and he just slipped on the stones. She advanced on him until she loomed over him, blocking out the sun. He shrank under her shadow.

“Come on. Please.” She took both of his hands and, with incredible strength, hauled Elver’s reluctant weight to his feet.

“No.”

“I went in your car.”

“I don’t want to go in the sea.”

“For me? Please?”

“No.”

Alaska pouted. “Please? Just a dip?” She pulled him an inch forward. “Watch me. It’s not so scary.”

She edged into the water, taking infinitesimal baby steps while staring at Elver. The water soon covered her feet and she longed to rush into the lazy waves.

“Come on,” she called. Elver shook his head.

“It’s divine.” She shimmied out of her skirt, careful not to wet it, and threw herself into the cool water in her knickers and a skimpy undershirt. Elver came to the shore, only to rescue Alaska’s skirt from the incoming waves. He jumped back when one threatened to tickle his feet.

“It’s wet and cold,” he said. Alaska waded out of the water, completely sodden.

“Are you just going to leave me looking like an idiot in there?” she asked, a cheeky grin gracing her face. Looking at her like that, Elver was getting a little hot and bothered. He could do with the chilly sea.

“There aren’t any creatures,” she said. “No sand for anything to hide in. No jellyfish or eels or anything.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Positive. I swear. It’s just like, I don’t know, a cold swimming pool for everybody. Yeah?”

Elver put one toe in the next wave and pulled it out. “I don’t like it.”

He didn’t see the speedboat go past too close to shore, thrusting the water forward. It splashed up to his knees and he shrieked. In his hurry to get to dry land, he tripped and faceplanted the ground. The next wave washed over him and he scrambled to his feet.

“That’s not funny, Alaska. I don’t like the sea, I really don’t like the sea. That’s not funny,” he said. His teeth were chattering.

“Hey, that wasn’t me. It was the douche in the boat. I’m really sorry, Elver. I wasn’t going to force you in. I swear.”

“I know. Sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I suppose, you’re in now. You might as well swim.”

Elver sat up in the water. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You’re already soaked.”

He looked away, a furiously blotchy blush afflicting his face. “No, I can’t. I can’t swim.” He laughed. “I just doggy paddle, if I have to.”

“Well, doggy paddle’s all I need. You don’t even need to go that deep.” She went deeper and Elver followed, each step calculated, until he was by her side. He gripped her arm, his fingers digging into her skin. “Hey, that hurts.”

“Sorry. I’m nervous, I guess.”

“Don’t be. Just stand here. Look at that.” She pointed at the horizon, a meld of blues and at the distance line, green reflected from the ocean. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Mmhmm.” He watched Alaska looking at the sky. It matched her eyes. He’d rather swim in them.