“Too tight?” she asked.
“No.”
“Too loose?”
“No.”
“You hesitated.”
“I was considering my answer.”
“To whether you can breathe?”
“I like to be thorough.”
Her laugh was low and close to my ear.
“Good. Breathing is going to be a theme today.”
She walked me through the gear with the patience of someone who had explained the same things a thousand times and somehow still enjoyed watching beginners pretend they understood.
Tank.
Regulator.
Pressure gauge.
Mask.
Fins.
Buoyancy control.
Then came the hand signals.
“This means okay,” she said, forming a circle with her thumb and forefinger.
I copied her.
She frowned.
“What?”
“That looks like you’re accusing a crab of tax fraud.”
“I’m doing exactly what you did.”
“You’re doing it aggressively.”
“I have expressive fingers.”
“Apparently.”
She demonstrated again.
I tried again.
“Better,” she said. “The crab is now only under investigation.”
