Cerulean (One Thousand Blues) (7 page)

I pull the lingering strips of Skin from my face, seeing layers of memories in all the hues of the seas: the bright blues of childhood, when my parents lived; the aquamarine of my thirteenth cycle, when ’Bow’s friendship kept me afloat; the indigo of my rebellious fifteenth cycle, when only Haku remained. They stretch as I pull them from my body.

Tears escape, some sliding over my scales and some working their way into the growing cracks. Without the water to wash them away, there is no way to hide my sorrow.

Embarrassment and sadness give way to curiosity. I am actually on a boat, floating above the Surface. After a quick rub to my gills—useless here—I inhale deeply. Rather than the stale, stinky oxygen-fed air of the pods, I breathe in the freshest air, infused with the warmth of the sunshine, the familiar saltiness of the oceans, and… freedom, if that is possible.

Tentatively, I make my way to my feet and take a few steps. It is hard to get used to the swaying, but by grasping items along the way, I make it to the edge of the boat.

The familiar turquoise spreads all around me, only the blue of the water is broken up by white-capped waves as the boat cuts through the sea. Looking up, I am surrounded by another blue: the deep azure of the sky.

Sky! The sun remains too bright to look at, but it fills me with indescribable warmth. Sunshine feels so deliciously good, I cannot help but raise my arms and spin. Large white fabric flaps in the breeze, and the archaic word—
sails
—pops into my head.

“Happy?” Jesse leans against a long wooden pole, grinning as he watches me.

Happy? What an odd thing to ask somebody, for it is so rare for it to be true. But as I feel the sun’s rays glowing over my body and I look at the beautiful sky, I raise my fingers to touch my lips and find that the rare has come uninvited and unnoticed: I
am
smiling.

How can I be so selfish—smiling over sunlight and sky—when Haku could be injured? I need to see her, know she is all right. Returning to Maluhia might be too risky with all that I have learned, but if I am to float away, I
must
say my good-byes.

“Jesse.” For the first time, I say his name aloud. The slight rise of the ‘J,’ the soft exhale of the ‘SS’—it is pleasing, the way his name rolls off my tongue. “I need to see Haku. Can you help me?”

“Your dolphin?” His nose crinkles at my nod. Jesse reaches out one hand and touches my forehead. “Your wound is still open. Way too risky to enter the water.”

I reach up. A gauzy cloth is wrapped around my head, covering my injury. Pressing against it makes me wince. “I
must
say good-bye to her.”

His eyes soften as I blink back tears once more. He places one finger at each side of my mouth. “If I help, do you think you can muster up another smile?”

The warmth of his fingers distracts me. “I will try.” Maybe this is a simple request upon the Surface.

“Tomorrow,” he promises.

10

My covering—the long, flowing sheet—drips with water. The bottom dipped into puddles on the boat’s floor, while the top is wet from the ocean’s splashes. I wring it out as best I can.

Jesse seems to notice my discomfort. “I’m going to go below and look for something to cover you better.”

Tomorrow
. The word lingers in my mind. Tomorrow I will see Haku. I make myself a promise and whisper it onto the sea.
Today, I will enjoy the wonders of the Surface.

I begin by exploring the boat. The sailboat is smaller than the shipwreck, much smaller; it spans the length of a humpback. The boat is the color of the clouds; at times, it feels we are soaring through the sky.

Aside from the black-haired man and Jesse, I see only one other man. He stops fiddling with the sails to wave. “Hello, Jesse’s friend.”

I slowly raise my hand, pause, and return the wave. Greetings are rare in Maluhia.

“I’m Danny.”

I wave once more. My worries overpower the excitement of this boat, of the Surface. I have never left my sector before. So far, the people aboard this craft have been safe, friendly, and helpful. Jesse saved me from the predator. They cared for me when I could not care for myself. They have given me no reason to distrust them.

Yet the Authority has given every reason to fear him: the deceit, the lies, my cold punishment, and whatever penalty awaits me for breaking Maluhia’s rules once more. Not to mention the cold, lonely despair of the waters.

Maybe the time has come to give the Surface a chance.

Jesse emerges from a small doorway that leads down into the ship. He holds two long pieces of fabric. “Sydney gave a few dresses. Pick your favorite, and save the other for tomorrow.”

I hesitate and try to remember
dress
. The purple fabric has white designs all over it, similar to a starfish, but with wider, rounded ends. The other fabric is blacker than the Deep, covered with something like seaweed fronds; it also has the starfish designs, only in pink. I cannot decide which one to choose.

“Jesse, head over and help Captain, will you? I’ll finish up here.” A pretty brown-haired girl pushes him away. She wears a long piece of fabric that hangs to her knees. “You probably didn’t have dresses underneath. Don’t worry; I’ll help you figure it all out.”

I nod. The Universal Language comes easily, but the words are pronounced so strangely. Words that were considered archaic seem to be in regular use above the Surface.

“My name’s Sydney.” She holds up the second dress and smiles. “This one’ll be perfect. Follow me. We’ll go below so you can try it on.”

I follow her into the dark opening and down a narrow set of stairs. After getting accustomed to the bright sunshine, it is nearly as dark as the Deep in this little set of rooms.

“Well, try it on.” Sydney turns her back on me and faces the doorway, blocking anyone else from coming down.

I pull on the dress. I can see why we did not have these in the waters. The long piece of fabric clings to my body on top, then flows to my ankles. Getting around in such material is not practical for the waters; it would be impossible to kick my legs enough to swim, let alone wear my tail or flipper-fins.

“Ooo, pretty. Jesse’s going to like!” Sydney pulls me over to a chair and searches through a small chest until she finds a comb. She runs the comb through my hair. “I think we’ll go for braids.”

I look up and see a mirror mounted to the wall. Sydney’s brown hair hangs in tight little ropes as small as anemone tentacles. I touch one.

“Dreads,” Sydney explains as she divides my hair into tiny sections. “I can give you dreads, but they take a while. Best to wait ‘til we get to land.”

Land? I am not sure where I imagined we were heading, but I never considered the possibility of Land. Not only had I breached the Surface, but I was going to set foot on Land? Closing my eyes, I imagine all the possibilities: smelling a flower, seeing a tree, experiencing the glory of a real rainbow.

Oh, how ’Bow would have loved all of this. It doesn’t seem right that I will experience the glory of the Surface, and she remains… gone. The sadness descends again, and I fight back a tear.

“Sorry if I pull too hard, but I want to get these braids right,” Sydney says.

Sydney chatters as she braids. She shares the name of the coverings they wear—
clothing
—then goes on to identify all the specific pieces of clothing.

I just listen. So much has happened—too much to deal with right now. For once, I let myself sit back, relax, and absorb all the newness of the Surface.

“Just finishing the last of them.” She rubs a moist towel across my face.

I open my eyes to see myself transformed. The last of the Skin has been wiped away, and my hair, which has always floated wild, has been tamed into tiny rows of braids. Sydney digs through the chest one more time and returns with a string of shells.

“Consider it your welcoming gift,” she says as she fastens it around my neck.

In the mirror, I look at the tiny shells underlining my face. “What are they for?”

“For? They don’t have any purpose but being pretty.”

What?

In our sector, everything had a purpose. Belongings were simple and functional. Aside from our Skin color, nothing existed for beauty, and even Skin was utilitarian in purpose.

Imagine a world where things are created for beauty alone. What
pleasure
that must bring people.

“You’re real beautiful when you smile.” Sydney smoothes my braids one last time.

I peek in the mirror and catch the smile. Two smiles, spontaneous and unexpected, in one day. How rare… and how delightful!

“We should head up to the deck so you don’t miss the ‘set. It’s your first, right?” Sydney guides me toward the stairs.

As I walk up the stairs, I try to place the funny word.
Set
. The Universal Language definitions come to mind, but none seem to apply.

Exiting onto the deck, the definition ceases to matter, for the sun sinks into the ocean, painting the sky in oranges, pinks, and purples.

“A sunset. Oh, the sky is so beautiful!” I have heard of this phenomenon, but never imagined I would actually see one. I rush to the railing and stare out over the water. The words to describe this blaze of colors escape me.

Jesse approaches and places his warm hand on my bare shoulder. I forget about the sunset for a moment as I focus on the tingles running down my back.

“I forgot that you’ve never seen a ‘set before.” He rubs his hand down one arm, causing goose bumps to appear. “Chilly? We’ve a warm stew for dinner. Come and eat.”

I want to stay and soak in the colors as long as I can, not knowing if I will ever gaze upon a sunset again. My stomach has recognized the word
dinner
, however, and grumbles loudly at my long pause.

Jesse leads me to some large, brightly colored cushions that sit upon the boat’s floor, forming a square. Sydney and the other two men already sit, eating from steaming bowls. In the middle of the square, the pot of food and a few dishes rest on a blanket. The food bubbles, emitting a delicious smell that causes my stomach to growl even louder. I lower myself to a bright green cushion.

“Well hello there, li’l mermaid.” The tall man grins at me. “Dish her up some stew. Can’t you hear her belly?”

Clean and rested, I feel stronger now. I meet his gaze. “I am
not
a mermaid.”

“Don’t have any other name to call you,” he says, his long black hair flapping into his eyes. He looks older than Jesse and Sydney, maybe closer to the professor’s age.

“My name is Chey.” I take the offered bowl of stew and blow on the first steamy spoonful.

“Interesting. I would’ve expected Sky or Moon or Sun.” He tips his head toward me. “I’m known as Captain.”

He knows about our naming rituals? How? Has he lived in the water? With his odd dialect, it does not seem probable. The Universal Language is taught identically throughout all of the sectors, so there are no difficulties communicating with one another.

Captain
… I struggle to remember its meaning. “Captain? Are you the leader of this ship?” The questions flow quickly once I permit myself to ask them. “How do you know of our naming customs? Have you lived within one of the sectors?”

He throws back his head and laughs. “She speaks! And here I thought the cat got your tongue! How about an answer for an answer? No, I’ve never lived in your pods. Now tell me: what does your name stand for?”

My name. He had to ask about my name.

I do not mind sharing if I will receive answers in return, but my name is so embarrassing. I take a few more bites of stew. Maybe my name is normal with these above-the-Surface folk. After all, what kind of names are Sydney and Jesse?

I take a deep breath, then announce, “My full name is Chevrolet.”

Captain slaps his knees and doubles over, he laughs so hard. “A car? That is what your ancestors missed the most? Must’ve been a great-great granddaddy, for a woman would’ve never made that choice.”

I am surprised to hear myself giggle back. “It was my great-great-great-great-grandfather. If the Committee would have let him pack his beloved car, he would have brought it to Maluhia.”

He leans close and whispers, “My real name’s Theodore, but there ain’t nobody who calls me that.”

He has a strange name too? “So… Captain, are you the head of this ship?”

“I’m not any leader, just the one who knows how to sail the best. We don’t buy into that authoritarian crap. Above the water, you’ll find everything run by a consensus model. Doesn’t mean we always agree on everything, but we try to listen to one another.” Captain stands and licks his bowl clean. “Try to enjoy yourself up above, li’l mermaid,” he calls as he heads to the boat’s wheel.

“Wait!” I have so many more questions, but he keeps walking until he is out of my eyesight.

I turn to Sydney. “How do you know of my customs, when I know nothing of you?”

She looks into her soup bowl for a long moment. “Captain is the best to answer those types of questions,” she says finally, before walking away to clear her dishes. The other man, Danny, follows her.