Page 29 of Anchored to the Storm

My shoulders lifted as I inhaled. They fell as I exhaled. They lifted… They fell… “As am I.”

Eyes full of tears that glittered to me like the blood he was describing, he nodded. Then, without looking away from me, he pointed to the water in front of us. “As is she.”

My sight raced to see beautiful green eyes staring up at me from under the surface, just like when I was that dying little boy. Now, in a full-circle moment, I was no longer that little boy. I wasn’t sure what I was, completely, but one thing was for certain.

I was hers.

The pull—longing—for her touch had me looking, in question, to Styx.

Crying, he nodded. “There will always be fear. Now it’s a matter of how you choose to handle it.”

I thought about it. And I thought about Noma. And quickly decided, “Straight on.”

Pride beamed from the man. “Then go to her.”

With a natural ability I was finally allowing to come forth, I closed my eyes while my legs straightened in front of me. My toes poised as if I were a lifelong diver. Then, as if a god myself, with a strength I was finally learning I had, my hands pushed off the wall.

As I allowed gravity to affect me, my legs went underneath me, my arms above me, and like a bullet, I shot downward into the water. Not a splash to be seen or heard.

Under the surface, I opened my eyes to view her waiting for me with a smile. Her hair floating like the movements I had once thought were only of the ocean. Now I understood it was the movement of life. The ocean, simply, was the center of it all.

What fools we humans have been.

No longer sinking like an average man, I hung in the water, peering around. It saddened me greatly to suddenly sense the pollution and disrespect for the glorious world within the water.

Then I looked back to who was life… for me. I mouthed, “Hi.”

She mouthed, through her continuing smile, “Mad. G.”

I mouthed, “I love you.”

I did. I didn’t know why or how, but my love for her was pure. No myth or story would take that from me. No human rule could stop this adoration. Nothing that Styx had to tell me, because I knew there was more, could change what was blessedly between Saleeni and me.

Extremely curious, she swam to me, studying my mouth. I now understood that meant she was trying to understand what I had just said, so I told her, “Love,” then motioned my arms wide, then flowing between us. Taking Styx’s advice about communication between bikers on the road, I pointed to her heart, then mine. In front of my chest, I laid my right hand over my left, then imitated a pulse, keeping my hands as they were, yet pumping them back into my chest.

Then I closed my eyes and moved my joined hands to hold them against my stomach, hoping she could feel the pure joy she created inside me. Then I opened my eyes. “Love.”

Sparkles floated from her eyes as she cried, smiled, and. repeated the motions. She nodded. “Love. Mad. G.”

With her now close, I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to mine.

Oh my God, this kiss. It was a seal of all our unspoken promises. It was the oath of joining life forces.

Diving deeper into her mouth, tongues dancing in celebration, my mind raced with one thought, over and over. I love you. I love you. I love you…

I was unaware that Saleeni and I, connected spiritually and physically, had risen from the water until I heard Styx crying. I pulled my mouth from Saleeni’s to see him still on the wall, but now standing. The bliss on his face appeared as if he felt complete—had fulfilled a promise of his own. Raw in feelings, he said, “You two are beautiful together.” Then he waved before walking away to the clubhouse.

Still holding Saleeni, I watched him until our slowly descending bodies were blocked by the wall, and I could no longer see my grandfather.

I gazed into Saleeni’s eyes. “So many questions,” I told her, or myself, as we gently slipped back into the water, “Someday, I will get answers.” I smiled at the center of my Universe. “I guess Styx was wise to advise sign language.”

Inquisitive as always, she touched my lips. Then she looked at me.

When I didn’t speak fast enough, her fingertips patted my lips again, and she gestured with her head as if urging me to get on with it.

I chuckled, so pleased she was ready. With my own fingers, I exaggerated swiping my bottom lip, offering a sign for her to learn. “Lips.”

She studied my hands, then my eyes.