Turn (9 page)

The water reservoirs his grandpa kept at the back of his home were not nearly enough to fill the pool; besides, they were all filled to the brim. The pump only spat out limited volumes of a murky liquid, and on some days nothing came out at all.

None of the pieces he hurled before himself matched.

Maybe his grandpa was in the pool, relaxing on some unsinkable thing with his pipe in his hand? Sono hurried toward the pool.

He exhaled heavily. His grandpa wasn’t in the pool either. Where the hell was he?

Sono’s brain shut down temporarily from the bombardment of mismatched impressions, his limbs continuing by default. He started walking slowly along the edge of the pool, gazing down into its clear waters while turning his head with wistful sweeps.

Then he saw it; there was something in the pool, something big. It looked like a shadow; it looked insubstantial. It looked nothing like his grandpa though. Yet it didn’t look out of place either, far from. Its serene movement mesmerized him. Sono looked up hastily; perhaps it was nothing but a stray drone that had cast the shadow. But he spotted nothing above the pool.

Before he knew it, it had moved right underneath him. It was a shadow; a solid, living shadow. Sono’s heartbeat rose quickly, and he withdrew slightly. He felt his heart beating in his throat. Though fear was undeniably present, it took cover behind the bumbling stature of his curious stupefaction.

He knelt down by the edge of the pool. What could it do, leap up at him?

Fuck. Now he feared it would. He had no idea what it was. Shuffling himself away from the edge a bit, he peered into its depths behind the cover of the pool’s edge.

Not long after, he smiled. He smiled out of relief. It was a manta ray gliding through the crystal-clear water of the pool. A manta ray…

He continued smiling, trapping it, hiding in its many crevices the fact that he was berating himself at the same time; like so many things, that nugget of information had been planted by his grandpa. As a little boy, just before the museum that was supposed to stand forever was completely dismantled, his grandpa had taken him there to see the holograms. Manta rays had been one species among the countless others, flying high up in the air above them, gliding across the floor, and then connecting the two with graceful loops.

Could it be a high-tech hologram? Sono doubted it. Why go through the trouble?

What would he mistake it for had he not known what it was? The shadow of his invisible grandpa? The Core’s newest gadget? The leakage from a busted pipe? The leprosy field ghost? His vengeful reflection?

Taken aback by the scene before him, by the novelties surrounding him, as well as dragging delicate parts of himself through the past, he stared into the water for some time. It smelled unbelievably pleasant, even though it was an entirely foreign smell. He wanted to drink it, immerse himself in it. He wanted to feel it.

On the shorter sides, on a raised platform, there were crisp numbers painted on the tiles in black. There were also two glimmering railings half submerged into the water. How was it that he had not noticed them before?

Sono squinted at the railings. What made them glimmer so vibrantly? The water? What then made the water glimmer? Or color it so alluringly? He faced the blanket of impenetrable pollution with toxic distrust.

There was no apparent wear, which was very odd. No matter where he looked, everything about the pool looked brand new. And the manta ray…the manta ray looked like nothing he had seen before; supple, harmonious, gentle. It looked nothing like a hologram either; it was solid, and most importantly, alive; an actual living organism bigger than the insects that fit into his palm, and much less menacing than the lifeless, towering concrete walls or the mechanical drones above them.

It didn’t look like a drone, but if he had to liken it to something, it would be either a drone or a kite, of the type kids in the city played with, even though they seldom moved as gracefully, since the kids always aimed for the turbulent skies around the walls to throw them around as violently as possible. Who knew how many kites had been shredded to pieces by those powerful wind turbines?

Sono wanted nothing else but to get into the pool with it; only problem was that he didn’t know how to swim.

He looked around himself with hungry eyes, looking for something buoyant to keep him afloat, and, most importantly, alive. But nothing jumped at him to his rescue, and concrete was hardly the answer.

Did the manta ray just swim around in circles? He clenched his teeth. What else could it do?

Without the use of his hands, he got rid of his shoes. The clean tiles, while slightly chilly, roused a feeling of delight very few things managed to do. He lifted his t-shirt off himself nimbly, but then struggled with his shorts, nearly falling over as one leg got trapped. Soon he stood at the pool’s edge in only his ripped underwear, surveying the living landscape like he not only knew how to swim, but also could breathe under water with ease. There were no apprehensions tugging at the ends of his hairs, nothing clogging his heart, and his eyes were alight with the clear waters spread out before him.

The railing was slightly chilly as his left hand wrapped itself around it. He shook the railing with both hands, to test its durability.

He turned around, and slowly descended the steps between the glimmering handles, his back to the pool. He surrendered one last sweeping glance across the concrete and the back of his grandpa’s home.

It didn’t feel good at all. Sono turned around immediately and sat down on the edge, his feet still on the first step. The third step was under water. Craning his neck, he tried to spot the manta ray. It was near the corner across from him.

With a flick of his hand he had disturbed the water, and transferred it to his skin. It dripped onto his lap. It was slightly chilly, but that was it. He brought his hand to his cheek, and then rubbed his face with it. It felt incredible.

He put both his feet down on the second step, and then let his right foot, his toes like a spear, extend down toward the surface of the water.

It felt like the world’s largest tongue was licking his toes. It was exhilarating despite the off-putting images that tagged along with it. He put his right foot down on the third step, and soon his left foot was planted firmly beside it. A shiver crept through his body, and he exhaled forcefully. He clapped his hands a couple of times, and then tensed his body fiercely, before continuing. It looked like there were six steps in total. Sono gripped the metal railing tightly, vowing to never lose contact with it. He slid his hands steadily down the railing as he descended one more step.

It felt incredibly intrusive as it crept up the inside of his thighs and then continued up to his genitals. But he quickly rebuked himself for such silly notions; it was only water,
water
, not a tongue or anything else. He licked the railing and smiled with a muffled chortle tumbling over his lips.

Even when the water reached up to his neck, it still felt more like being on land with his feet firmly planted on the ridged bottom step. He shuffled his feet forward, slowly to the step’s edge, until the water enveloped his wriggling toes. His subsequent inhale swelled unexpectedly, flaring his ribs and lifting his shoulders above the surface.

Sono stepped with both feet onto inexistent ground. With some difficulty, straining a multitude of muscles, he managed to keep his mouth above the surface. Only his left arm remained with the railing; his feet and his right arm were unanchored in the rare waters of the pool.

While his left hand firmly clutched the railing, his other hand alternated between frantic slaps and slicing through the water before him in an effort to keep him afloat. Both his feet kicked wildly too.

After realizing that his exertions were superfluous, partly thanks to his focus shifting to the approaching manta ray below, his motions became more relaxed, and wider, allowing him to fully focus on the harmonious creature beneath his still feet. One hand on the railing was all it took for him to float.

Without realizing it, as his face dipped below the surface to look at the creature, he had let go of the railing with his left hand. The fact didn’t alarm him, or at least no to the point that he reached for it. Euphoria alone kept him buoyant.

Even when there was no contact with the railing, he could remain unmoving, and simply float. In fact, it felt like he was dissolving in the water; the boundaries between himself and the water were rivetingly blurred. Tiny bubbles rose from his mouth and nose, rolling over his submerged face.

Sono gazed at the creature with what started as little irksome pricks of worry, then quickly morphed into pangs of disappointment, and finally guiding a stab of pity to pierce him through and through, effectively obliterating the harmonious scene he had set out to witness.

He popped his head up above the surface, taking a shallow breath. Should he free it? How would he accomplish that? It looked enormous. And even if he found a way, free it to what? What would be its freedom now? There were no other animals left beside insects. Humans?

As the frustration rose in him, he told himself that he had to get closer, get a better view of it. He glared briefly at the railing beside him.

If it was in fact a fleshy manta ray, what would they do to it? Chop it up and skewer it? Probe it with all kinds of things? Whatever they did, it would not be nice. And that went for the Core just as well as for anyone else. If only his grandpa could stop hiding.

Sono dropped his head along with his budding frown below the surface, eyeing the manta ray. Awe slowly solidified his ambivalent eyebrows.

Suddenly plunging into the water, about halfway across the pool, was some sort of projectile, wrapped in millions upon millions of tiny white bubbles. Unfazed; since not a sound had made it to him, he stared at it calmly and inquisitively. It didn’t take more than moments for something dark to peek out from the bottom of the bright froth as the bubbles lifted. Out of it emerged a familiar palette; it was Turn. Vast quantities of bubbles continued to rise to the surface, as did she. Her head disappeared for a brief moment, before she dove back under, and began to swim toward him gawkily, more of an underwater trod. Bubbles once again hurried to the surface, this time from her mouth. Her mouth moved considerably; she appeared to be talking, or perhaps even screaming. But Sono couldn’t hear a thing. He popped his head up above the surface.

“Get out!” she screamed immediately.

“What?”

“Get out! Get out!”

She did some peculiar hand movements, briefly splashing water around her with accompanying grimaces, before giving it up and breaking into a furious swim toward him. Sono looked around himself with unease, before dipping his face below the surface, trying to keep his eyes open throughout. The manta ray, close to the bottom, was swimming the same way, round and round.

What else could she mean? After lifting his head up, Sono looked up at the sky, and then spun around, moving his limbs awkwardly so that he could get a complete view of his surroundings. There was nothing abnormal discernable, much less menacing.

“Get out of the pool!”

A prickly fear scurried through his spine at the sound of her repeated command. He surveyed the clear waters with a scowl, adding a good dose of confusion to the restlessness bouncing around inside of him.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Before she could respond, Sono plunged his head down, to peek under the surface at the manta ray, his hearing overwhelmed by the sound of the breach. It wasn’t there anymore. He was looking at a strange cluster of…something.

Of course; he was looking at a school of fish. It had been a school of fish all along. Or…what else? He stared at the moving cluster, not just moving as a whole, but each individual fish moving as well, making its glittering reflection very dizzying. Though it moved forward, it seemed to move in all directions simultaneously, just barely able to contain itself.

Sono brought his head up for some air which he’d forgotten to store, immediately honing in on Turn, now significantly closer. She didn’t look up; she just kept swimming resolutely toward him. There was nothing awkward about her motions anymore. She’d reach him very soon. Sono tipped his face down below the surface, only to be able to take another peek. The school of fish suddenly moved upwards at a sharp angle. He glanced at Turn, or the parts of her visible underwater; her revolving arms, the top of her bobbing head, flashes of her shoulders, and occasionally one of her furiously flicking feet behind it all. Bubbles wrapped around her as if they aided her propulsion. Turning his eyes down at the school of fish, he realized it didn’t consist of a single fish, or at least it looked artificial. The closer it came, the more it looked like a cluster of fidgeting scraps of paper, though shiny and reflective. It was like smashed pieces of a sentient mirror.

Sono looked for Turn. She had slowed down, the bubbles had all lifted and all of her limbs employed sweeping motions, suspending her upright body in surroundings that suddenly felt reassuringly familiar. Breathtaking little bubbles lined her eyes. He saw them as clearly as if he’d been face to face with her, their noses touching. Perhaps if they both reached their hands out, they would connect.

His feet were suddenly enveloped by something, something other than the soothing swathe of the water. He looked down at it, realizing in an instant that he was caught. His legs were turning dark, or, rather, they lost all color, surrendered it, became immaterial; there was nothing but the shadow from the strange cluster shaped like two spiraling tubes underneath him.