A school of yellow and black striped fish cautiously but curiously neared the new comer. Watching them, by the dozens, in their silent formation. Making my movement as docile as possible, pushing myself deeper into the azure. The tightness in my chest is only a twinge as I first reach the coral. The colors bursting out, the light from above filtering in and the darkness in the crags fading in and out. Looking back up, the sun appearing as a faceted jewel shimmering just past the surface.
A shadow to my left captures my attention; too far out to determine what it is I stop. The air starting to burn in my lungs. I thought to myself, just a few more seconds. My curiosity held me there on that rock, gazed fixed on the growing form, slowly making its' way closer.
Gritting my teeth, waiting patiently, my breath searing inside. A dull ache that I had in my head a minute ago has quickly turned to a pounding that throbbed with every beat of my heart.
Ready to make my break and race to the border of sea and air when it came in to view. In utter awe I bore witness to the beast. The pain deep in my bosom now forgotten. Impelled by its' majestic and peaceful presence, I remain motionless. Huge wings moving painfully slow, displaying a grace only beheld in this environment. A body relatively flat, save the two jutting features akin to horns, a perfect depiction of balance. Top black as pitch, the underside white like the sands it soared over. Its' maw gaped, feeding as it continued on its' life long journey with no destination
In mere seconds the manta was reclaimed as a shadow by its' endless home. Feet firmly placed on the textured stone, I launched upward, and releasing what was left of my air. Bursting forth, a spray of water and a loud gasp, taking what felt like my first breath. Quickly the ache disappeared and I float for a moment, laying still, the only sounds, my panting and the gentle slaps of the sea against the boat we rented earlier that day.
The rope ladder lay closer aft than bow, on the port side. Easily climbed and a quick pat drying, I made my way forward. Wordlessly I sat on the deck. Upon a white towel, La Fay in the royal blue bikini basking. Her skin already kissed by the sun, covered by a thin layer of lotion, a golden tint. Wickedly I thought of the several shades lighter beneath the blue.
My mind returned to the day before when she and I had gone shopping. We happened upon a boutique for swimming apparel. Browsing and making a few selections, soon I was in a chair in a back viewing room connected to the changing booths.
La Fay first emerged in a red one piece, not unlike the kind worn in a popular lifeguard television show. Though it was nice, I said, "It's covering too much," with a wink I tried to recover by playfully adding, "Your tan will suffer." She surprisingly agreed with me.
The leopard print seriously wasn't really a choice. Another one piece with a floral print and skirt was added to the ever growing 'I-don't-think-so' pile. The dismissal of the black one with the thong didn't disappoint me as much as other may have thought.
She then came out in the royal blue. I blinked and then again to be sure. I don't know what it was. I don't know if it was the contrast of her newly bronzed skin and brilliant blue, or the sparkle in her eyes, the bounce in her step. I don't know how it came to be, but at that moment, I could only think of one thing.
