Going Native

Tania watched from the beach as her lover played in the warm sea, diving, erupting like an orca, jack-knifing gracefully, spinning in the water for joy of release from gravity's grip. She enjoyed watching Hannah's pleasure, but did not share it. The sea frightened her and its inhabitants (scale, slime, sting, claw, tooth, tentacle) terrified her. The water stole breath, extinguished the flame of life if it got the chance. She occasionally dabbled her feet in its warm shallows, and wished to go no further.

Instead, she spread herself in the sun's glory, absorbing it into herself, growing at once strong and sleepy. Minutes later the sun was eclipsed and tiny droplets of cold water seared her skin, shocking her awake. Hannah stood over her, shaking her hair, scattering water like a yellow dog just in from the rain.

Tania rolled away, the set of her mouth proclaiming her displeasure. Hannah flopped like a seal beside her, her naked body sparkling with sea and salt, newly-brown flesh taut and goosebumping in the sudden warmth. She exhaled mightily and stretched her limbs, draping one water-chilled arm across Tania, who grunted.

"Crosspatch, Hannah observed cheerfully.

"You're cold, said Tania.

"And hungry, said Hannah.

They ate in a small taverna perched half way up the cliff face, overlooking the beach. Tania sat in the full glare of the sun, basking, sipping chill white wine and chewing on olives that stung her mouth with pleasure. Hannah pulled a white umbrella over her head and slitted her eyes against the sun's glare. She drank water, glass after glass, ice-cold, gin-clear and perfect. She had twisted about herself a sarong the colour of the sea; Tania remained naked. The waiter brought their food, as delicious as it was unaccustomed. Stuffed vine leaves, tangy and fresh with onion and lemon, wallowed in red sauce that dribbled down Tania's chin. Hannah leaned over and licked it off, laughing and kissing the mouth that she thought perfect. Tania pushed her away, 'You smell of fish,' she complained.

'Try some.' Hannah offered a spoonful of fresh sardine, slick with olive oil. Tania pulled her head back in disgust, and Hannah ate it herself. 'I could stay here forever,' she said later, when the plates were empty. Tania looked across the bay where sea of deepest blue met sky almost white with the sun's glare.

'It's nice,' she agreed. 'But so is home.'

Hannah looked at the sea and tried to count the different shades of blue as it met rock and cliff and sand.

'It's special here,' she insisted. 'The sea¦.' she trailed off. She knew how Tania felt and was sad that this was not something that they could share. She had tried before to explain the exhilaration, her feeling of being at home with the sea plants and sea creatures, immersed in the Earth's blood, supported and held safe. But Tania frowned and spoke of shark and jellyfish and alien squid and octopi that watch with one great eye and clutch with tentacles that tear and beak that pierces. And she had shuddered and even cried a little while Hannah held her and loved her anyway.

A week passed and the days became routine. In the mornings they travelled inland, walked stifling around churches and dusty parks and museums. Tania photographed arches and windows and small, dirty children; Hannah drank bottle after bottle of water and covered her body against the sun. In the afternoons they went to the beach and Tania lay in the heat, her body protected from burning by the pill she took every morning. Released from the clothes that itched and tormented her skin, Hannah would run into the water, diving full length, surfacing laughing and tossing her long hair back from her face as her body's pores opened to receive the sea.

Occasionally Tania would walk along the edge of the bay, her eyes scanning the sand for shells pink and pearly as her fingernails, as rockets passed almost silently overhead, bringing more people for their annual glimpse of the freedom that was denied them the rest of the year. Tania was lonely for Hannah, who barely came out of the water any more until twilight emptied the beach and filled the tavernas. Even then, sometimes she had to call her out, and Hannah obeyed reluctantly, feeling oppressive weight return to her body as she emerged into shallow water and walked to where her lover stood, impatient for a shower and dinner.

One day when the sun was particularly hot and the end of the holiday near, Hannah swam out further than was usual. Her limbs were full of strength and her lungs seemed to make one gulp of the warm air last for hours as she dived and swam, watching the yellow and blue fish. The sandy bottom of the bay was littered with fist-sized white stones, to which clung small animals who pretended to be plants, and plants that waved false arms in the gentle current. A school of black and silver fish darted and flashed, synchronising perfectly, first towards the surface and then plunging down, turning sharply. Hannah stayed suspended beneath the surface, watching them in wonder. Suddenly the shoal fled and the water around her erupted in a mass of sleek grey bodies. Startled, Hannah sought the surface and her head emerged into the air amongst fins and foam. Dolphins. Snatching a breath, Hannah dived again, swam, spun, felt a long, smooth body brush the length of her legs and reached out to grasp a fin and be carried along by the animal's immense strength.

They played for hours together, whilst Tania slept on the beach. Hannah wanted to scream her joy, but feared to startle the playful animals that cavorted around her. The current carried them further offshore and the water was colder, fresher, the surface of the sea rougher here outside the protection of the cliffs that surrounded the bay.

Their play became more boisterous. The youngsters circled her, butting carefully with their noses at her body, rushing towards her then veering away at the last instant, nipping at her feet and fingers with gentle teeth, cannoning up from the depths to rocket out of the water and crash back into the sea, dousing Hannah with foam and making her laugh as she never had. Once a sleek grey head emerged beside her and laughed with her, then arched and leaped over her.

As the sun was losing its power and starting to touch the horizon, the school turned and swam out to sea, where Hannah dared not follow. She watched them go, then turned and swam inshore, her limbs heavy and spent, her heart wracked with joy and loss. Over dinner that night, she tried to tell Tania about the dolphins, but her lover simply stared at her, heart unmoved, and suggested that they start to pack in the morning to save time on their last day.

'This time day after tomorrow we'll be home,' she said, looking at her watch. 'It'll be nice to get back into the old routine and show off my tan.'

Hannah finished eating her fish and went straight to bed. The smooth sheets chafed at her skin and hot, itchy tears slipped down her cheeks. That night they lay back to back, not touching and not understanding.

Hannah saw the school of dolphins one more time, from the top of the cliff where she was following Tania who was taking photographs to show their friends at home. She watched them as they played, but did not remark on them to Tania, who was trying to take a close-up of a white snail. By the time they turned for home, the dolphins were gone.

The hour-long flight between Menorca and Ontario was torture for Hannah, but Tania hummed cheerfully and smoothed moisturising lotion into her limbs. The air in the rocket was dry and smelled of nothing. The in-flight entertainment was bright and loud and hurt Hannah's ears, and her eyes burned from lack of moisture. She felt herself shrivel as they approached the city.

Everyone said how wonderful they looked after their holiday ' healthy and refreshed and with such lovely tans. But they lied, because Hannah drooped and had no energy and was thirsty all the time. Tania insisted she saw a doctor, who poked and prodded and 'aha'ed, and prescribed a tonic because there was nothing wrong to be found. Then she saw another doctor, without telling Tania, and a week later when Tania came home from work, she found Hannah packing a small bag.

'What's going on? ' she asked, half fearful, half annoyed.

'I'm going back,' Hannah said, winding a broad scarf about her neck.

'Back where?' asked Tania, for whom the holiday was a mere memory, filed for easy retrieval at the dinner parties of those who had never holidayed in the Mediterranean.

'Back to the island.'

'What about work? What about me?' Tania became shrill and Hannah shrank back, wishing that she had gone earlier, feeling that there was nothing she could say that would explain. She tried to take Tania in her arms, to leave her gently and in a way that wouldn't tear at either of them too badly, but Tania lashed out and would not be held.

'I'm sorry', she said at last, and left Tania sobbing her outrage into her pillow.

The one-way ticket back to the island cost Hannah almost the last of the money that she had left after paying for the operation. She hoped that she would be able to get a part-time job there, but knew that she would manage somehow if not. The freedom and the sea were worth the sacrifice, and the pain of parting from Tania was already faded and old by the time the rocket touched down with a contented sigh of hydraulics.

The air rolled over her in a wave of welcoming heat as she disembarked, and her clothes immediately clung to her and stifled her skin. She scratched at the scarf about her neck and remembered what the doctor had said.

'Make sure to keep them moist and use them as much as possible. After the first six weeks there's no danger of them healing over, so you can relax, but until then spend as much time as you can in the water.'

Hannah walked from the airport to the bay, dropped her clothing and bag on the beach, unwound her scarf and dived straight in. Farther out and deeper she swam, until her lungs burned with stale air and a faint humming started in her ears. Then she opened her mouth and let the sea pour down her throat. Her head cleared and she emptied her lungs, which quietened as her new gills filtered oxygen from the water and sent it coursing into her bloodstream. She practised for a while, sucking in the sea, absorbing what she needed, pushing it back out. Her limbs filled with power and her heart lightened and pumped more strongly.

When she was sure that all was well and that her gills were working as they should, Hannah turned and began to swim lazily out of the bay, looking for the dolphins. She could hear their cries through the chiming water, so she knew that she would not have far to go.