amaro

“Some fish are minnows. Some fish are whales. We prefer dimples, while fish prefer scales. Some fish are slim, and some are round. They don’t get cold. They don’t get drowned. But every fish wife fears the her fish, what we call mermaid and fish call merfish.” (Ogden Nash)

There are many wonders in this existence. Some lie and roam on the surface of planet earth, others ascend beyond the atmosphere and endure beyond your reach, far far beyond your reality. Love is one of the many wonders of our existence, but love is not matter. Though, sometimes I think that love matters the most. Then there’s the Universe, which is full of matter and is bigger than our living minds would ever be able to comprehend. The wonder that I speak of is the place that resides under your very noses. It is full of more life, existence and mystery than any other place. Fathoms below, there are wonders which never cease, and embody more than what you thought your world was capable of.

The sea was my home. Off the coast of the Italian Riviera was where I spent most of my days. I was a surface swimmer, in love with the sunlight when it's rays made the water glisten and sparkle, and made my scales sting under its warmth. But every now and then I would be aroused by the thought of adventure in the deep ends. The deep ends were dark, cold, mysterious. You’d always hear of the strange, but beautiful creatures watching you behind the mask of darkness. These creatures allegedly portrayed grisly, horrid features, unlike any other sea creature. Knowing that they meant no harm, and that the harm they did cause was out of fear, sometimes, I would swim serenely downward towards them to say You’re not the only one who feels like a monster.

During the nights, I would find myself upon the land rocks, singing to my reflection gleaming under the light of the moon. My fins would skim lightly across the surface. Every now and then, I would watch as a ship would pass by, vibrant and vivid; these ships were full of so much life and familiarity. Something that I had never known or experienced. Humans talking, smiling, laughing even. I was so jealous of this. I envied them so much, my heart burned. There was a whole town of humans, and they had each other. I only had me. Never, in all seven seas, have I ever met a creature like myself. Half fish, half human. Too human to be fish, and too fish to be human. I was alone….until I met him.

One night, a small wooden boat was floating next to the rocks I sat on. There on my rock, was a young human. I had never seen one so close. He was handsome. Even in the dark, I could tell. His eyes were a glistening reflection of sea, big and blue. His hair was purely golden, almost as pure as sunshine. His skin was kissed by the sun, to the point where were I was almost jealous. He was alone. My eagerness and curiosity had overthrown any drop of sense I had in me. I felt like we were connected somehow, and that I needed to find out why I had felt this way. I slowly swam towards him.

He shook in fear and picked up a small flashlight.

“Who’s there? Are you in the water?”

I somehow knew this language I had never spoken before. I understood. Though, I didn’t say a word. He took his flashlight and caught a glimpse of me. In fear I swam down. Then stopped.

“Don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you.” He whispered loud enough so that the ripples of the ocean could lightly carry those seven words and deliver them to my ears.

I slowly emerged with wonder, yet again breaking the boundary between us. I felt the heat of the flashlight, knowing it had been in use for a while, as he shone the light on my face to get a better look. Simultaneously, I looked at him. He was more pleasing to grace my eyes on than I had ever imagined. He was masculine, yet with enough curves to seem feminine. His lips were periwinkle, he must have been cold, I thought. He’s cheeks peachy, over a sharp jaw. He wore a grey hooded top, with the hood gently placed above his perfect golden hair.

“Come si chiame?”

“What’s your name?”

I had never been asked for a name. For that matter, I had never been asked anything, or even spoken in this foreign language that seemed so familiar. I had still been eager and curious. So I responded, meekly, with what seemed to be an answer.

“Zara.”

“Zara.” He repeated like he was reminding himself of me, taking note of me.

“Mi chiamo Amaro. My name is Amaro. Like love. I don’t know why I was named that, love is the most impossible thing.”

He was ignoring the fact that I was a strange creature in the water at midnight. I loved that.

“No,” I replied, more confident than I had meant it to be. “Love is beautiful, intimate and safe.”

He laughed and stared into what I think was my naked soul.

Then out of nowhere, after a period of silence and thought, he peered over his small, wooden boat and looked into the water. What he had seem made him fearful of me. He gasped, scooted away from me, shaking his boat. The flashlight had fallen out of his strong hand and drowned into the waters below. I looked down to see my tail reflect the light of the sunken flashlight. I realized what had startled him.

“I’ll go get your flashlight.” I offered, and before he could answer I dove down as fast as I could to find that light.

He was waiting for me. In the time it took for me to get it, I thought he would have left. He just sat there, cradling his knees looking around for me. I, again, broke that barrier that seemed even thicker the third time, and confronted him.

“I never thought I would see something so terrifying but gorgeous at the same time. I stayed because of your eyes, rare yet stunning like black diamonds. But that? That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.” He whispered, not in fear of someone hearing, but in fear of frightening me away.

“Can I kiss you?” I asked.

Soon enough, his lips were my lips, and his heart was my heart.

From that moment, we had talked for nine hours. He had pulled his boat into shore, and we sat on a rock next to each other. We talked mostly about me. He had asked me so many questions.

“What’s it like swimming all day?”

“Do your fingers get all pruny?”

“How do you use the bathroom?”

We laughed, he had even cried. He was 17 years old. His full name was Amaro Carccini. He had no siblings. He was homeschooled. He was an orphan. His best friend was his neighbor, Jaime. All this information was new, yet it seemed as if I already knew who he was, and where he had come from. The feeling that I felt about Amaro was irreplaceable. He said he felt the same way.

He told me he had to leave before the sunrise.

“But I’ll come back, I promise.”

“Promise?” I repeated.

“Promise. I guarantee. I can assure you. I promise.”

That was the last I heard of him. He never came back. I sat on that rock for ten days straight, every now and then dipping my tail in the water, as to hydrate it, because all the moisture had been taken through my tears. Finally, I decided to forget about him, and realize that I was meant to feel alone. I dove down to the deep end for the first time at night. Part of me hoping those monsters would kill me, part of me hoping to see one and say take me in, I’m a monster myself, scaring even the ones who accept me away.

As I swam in the deep end, my life flashed before me. I wanted to become one of these monsters or maybe I already was. Through the darkness, I caught a glimpse of two shiny blue eyes hiding away in a dark cove.

“Amina?”

“Amaro?”

He came out of the cove, and into the immensely dim light. He had a tail...just like mine.

“How?” I asked, perplexed.

“I’m not sure. I just remember riding my bike down to the shore about nine days ago, and I looked over my shoulder, saw a car about five feet away, and then I was here.”

“Are you alright?”

As I said that, I felt dozens of eyes staring at us. I looked around. Blue, black, yellow, lavender, grey, any colour you could have imagined were staring at us. Then slowly they started to swim out of the coral, the coves, the seaweed. Each one with a tail like mine, but unique in their own way. They had all felt alone, and thought that they were meant to never be seen. They were feared, seen as beasts. Strange, but beautiful each one. Each time I came down here in fear of the “beasts”, they were in fear of being seen. Of being an outcast, misplaced, alone. But here they were. My family.

“I guess we were both wrong,” Amaro said to make light of the situation, “We belong somewhere, we belong here, the place right under our very noses.”

The merfolk were looking at each other, embracing the odd familiarity. He was just there looking at me.

“What did I say? I promise.”

He promised. From that day on, he became we. We found love within ourselves to surrender to one another for forever and more.

Oh, Amaro, how you changed my life.