[Sea Hunt: Drabble] "Deeper Love" [G]
Title: Deeper Love
Author: Ami Ven
Rating: G
Word Count: 800
Prompt: abysmally late birthday present for bobdeloyd
Fandom: Sea Hunt
Character(s): Mike Nelson, original characters
Setting: as requested, an expansion of this drabble
Summary: I normally turn down prospective students who come to me with treasure maps.
Deeper Love
I normally turn down prospective students who come to me with treasure maps.
Even expert divers are sometimes lured into trouble by the siren song of sunken riches, and I had no intention of letting a beginner into that kind of temptation.
In this case, however, I was happy to make an exception.
The map that Marianne Jones brought me didn’t lead to gold or jewels, but rather to the wreck of a yacht that had belonged to her grandparents, who went down with it in a storm off the Florida Keys when her father was a boy.
He had spent nearly all his life trying to locate the wreck of the Deeper Love, sharing that desire with Marianne, who had graduated with a doctorate in oceanography.
And, finally, they’d found it.
Marianne had a little diving experience, but needed to be proficient for a dive like this. She was a dedicated student - not a natural in the water, but a deliberate and careful swimmer. But only once she was physically ready to dive to where the Deeper Love had gone down did I consider the emotional side.
Marianne thanked me for ‘being sweet’, but said she had been prepared for this her whole life. Whatever was down there, she could handle it. I make it a point not to argue with a lady once she’s made up her mind, so I started making arrangements for our dive.
Mr. Jones came along with us on my Argo, and he kissed his daughter’s cheek before we secured our gear and tipped ourselves over the side.
It was a fairly long way down, and Marianne proved she’d been paying attention during our lessons.
Finally, we could see the dark shape of the wreck ahead of us. I was still a little concerned about her, but Marianne gave a thumbs-up, and we continued forward.
The sea had done a lot of damage. Sections of the hull stuck out of the sandy bottom, barely recognizable. Paint was still visible on a few, including the letters E-E-P … L-O.
Marianne grabbed my arm, and I squeezed his her hand.
Slowly, we approached the wreck. Normally, as the more experienced diver, I would have taken the lead, but I understood that this was hers to see. So, I kept most of my attention on Marianne and just enough on our surroundings to keep us out of trouble.
In addition to the pieces of the yacht that were visible, objects had spilled out onto the sand - a plate, part of a chair, a brass bedpost, and a few others that had been weathered into unrecognizability.
Under the curve of a hull segment, half-buried in the soft sand, lay two human skeletons.
They were more intact than others I’d found underwater, having been protected by the decaying wood of the hull. They were devoid of flesh, bones no longer joined together, but sill in decidedly human shape - two people, still leaning toward each other, hands together in the space between them.
I looked over at Marianne. It’s hard to read someone’s emotions behind a diving mask, but she didn’t seem upset. After a moment, she swam forward, just brushing her fingers over the jumble of smaller bones of the skeletons’ hands. Then, she spotted something just to one side and picked it up - a gold bangle bracelet.
Marianne held it up, catching the light. Gold is a nonreactive metal, and it looked new even after decades underwater.
We floated there for a long moment, Marianne just looking out at the wreck. I would have let her stay as long as she liked, but we were getting to the end of our oxygen supply and as it was, we’d need all we had to get back to the surface.
I touched Marianne’s shoulder and signaled that we should go.
She nodded and we made our way back up to the surface. We clambered back aboard my boat, where Marianne rushed into her father’s arms, SCUBA tank and all.
“You found them?” Mr. Jones asked.
Marianne nodded, eyes wet. “They’re still holding hands.”
As I helped her off with her air tank, she held up her own hand, letting the bangle bracelet catch the light.
“That was Mama’s,” said Mr. Jones, sounding more like a little boy than a sixty-year-old man.
“Mike, I’d like to go back down,” said Marianne. “I know we only talked about finding the Deeper Love, and I honestly wasn’t sure we would. And I’m not sure what to do with it, ultimately, but for now I’d like to map it and take some pictures.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll help as long as you need. And we can be ready to go back down tomorrow.
Marianne smiled and kissed my cheek. “You’re the best, Mike!”
THE END
Current Mood:
mellow
Author: Ami Ven
Rating: G
Word Count: 800
Prompt: abysmally late birthday present for bobdeloyd
Fandom: Sea Hunt
Character(s): Mike Nelson, original characters
Setting: as requested, an expansion of this drabble
Summary: I normally turn down prospective students who come to me with treasure maps.
Deeper Love
I normally turn down prospective students who come to me with treasure maps.
Even expert divers are sometimes lured into trouble by the siren song of sunken riches, and I had no intention of letting a beginner into that kind of temptation.
In this case, however, I was happy to make an exception.
The map that Marianne Jones brought me didn’t lead to gold or jewels, but rather to the wreck of a yacht that had belonged to her grandparents, who went down with it in a storm off the Florida Keys when her father was a boy.
He had spent nearly all his life trying to locate the wreck of the Deeper Love, sharing that desire with Marianne, who had graduated with a doctorate in oceanography.
And, finally, they’d found it.
Marianne had a little diving experience, but needed to be proficient for a dive like this. She was a dedicated student - not a natural in the water, but a deliberate and careful swimmer. But only once she was physically ready to dive to where the Deeper Love had gone down did I consider the emotional side.
Marianne thanked me for ‘being sweet’, but said she had been prepared for this her whole life. Whatever was down there, she could handle it. I make it a point not to argue with a lady once she’s made up her mind, so I started making arrangements for our dive.
Mr. Jones came along with us on my Argo, and he kissed his daughter’s cheek before we secured our gear and tipped ourselves over the side.
It was a fairly long way down, and Marianne proved she’d been paying attention during our lessons.
Finally, we could see the dark shape of the wreck ahead of us. I was still a little concerned about her, but Marianne gave a thumbs-up, and we continued forward.
The sea had done a lot of damage. Sections of the hull stuck out of the sandy bottom, barely recognizable. Paint was still visible on a few, including the letters E-E-P … L-O.
Marianne grabbed my arm, and I squeezed his her hand.
Slowly, we approached the wreck. Normally, as the more experienced diver, I would have taken the lead, but I understood that this was hers to see. So, I kept most of my attention on Marianne and just enough on our surroundings to keep us out of trouble.
In addition to the pieces of the yacht that were visible, objects had spilled out onto the sand - a plate, part of a chair, a brass bedpost, and a few others that had been weathered into unrecognizability.
Under the curve of a hull segment, half-buried in the soft sand, lay two human skeletons.
They were more intact than others I’d found underwater, having been protected by the decaying wood of the hull. They were devoid of flesh, bones no longer joined together, but sill in decidedly human shape - two people, still leaning toward each other, hands together in the space between them.
I looked over at Marianne. It’s hard to read someone’s emotions behind a diving mask, but she didn’t seem upset. After a moment, she swam forward, just brushing her fingers over the jumble of smaller bones of the skeletons’ hands. Then, she spotted something just to one side and picked it up - a gold bangle bracelet.
Marianne held it up, catching the light. Gold is a nonreactive metal, and it looked new even after decades underwater.
We floated there for a long moment, Marianne just looking out at the wreck. I would have let her stay as long as she liked, but we were getting to the end of our oxygen supply and as it was, we’d need all we had to get back to the surface.
I touched Marianne’s shoulder and signaled that we should go.
She nodded and we made our way back up to the surface. We clambered back aboard my boat, where Marianne rushed into her father’s arms, SCUBA tank and all.
“You found them?” Mr. Jones asked.
Marianne nodded, eyes wet. “They’re still holding hands.”
As I helped her off with her air tank, she held up her own hand, letting the bangle bracelet catch the light.
“That was Mama’s,” said Mr. Jones, sounding more like a little boy than a sixty-year-old man.
“Mike, I’d like to go back down,” said Marianne. “I know we only talked about finding the Deeper Love, and I honestly wasn’t sure we would. And I’m not sure what to do with it, ultimately, but for now I’d like to map it and take some pictures.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll help as long as you need. And we can be ready to go back down tomorrow.
Marianne smiled and kissed my cheek. “You’re the best, Mike!”
THE END
Current Mood:
mellow