Aquarius: a short story
This story takes place from the point of view of a "piece" of water. Now for the purposes of this story, a piece of water is an amount of water (starts out as a few tablespoons) that stays together as its own entity. It never splits up. It's kind of like a living being only it's not alive, but it still has a conscience... that's the best way I can describe it >.<
Aquarius
One
My life is not a very eventful one. I’ve remained in the same lake for the entire beginning of it, not flowing down the river out to sea like my relatives do when they grow older. Sometimes I let myself sink to the bottom of the lake, maybe kick up some dirt or wash over a bottom-feeding fish. I may form a small wave and carry a child’s remote-control boat for laps, around and around until he has to go home for lunch. Usually, though, I swirl around in the shade near my favorite willow tree. Few people ever disturb me there, as most prefer to be on the other side of the lake, out in the sun.
People are interesting beings. Much more interesting than myself, anyway. I am merely water. Granted, it is nice knowing my purpose is to help life flourish, but until I end up in a water bottle or the soil of a plant, my existence has very little meaning. The sad part is, once I have fulfilled my duty in quenching the thirst of some person, creature, or plant, I will cease to exist. People have a word for this fading of an existence; the word is “death”. Technically, I am not really alive, which is rather sad. However, the way I’ve heard it described… no longer existing on the planet Earth… it makes me want to do much more than just become another beverage.
I’ve had dreams of what I could do someday. Maybe I’ll wash the shampoo out of someone’s eyes, or pass through the gills of a desperate salmon as she rushes upstream. If I’m lucky, I’ll meet someone, maybe a foreigner when we’re out at sea. Together, we could carry boats of fishermen back home to their wives and children. Alright, maybe I’m a dreamer, but I’ve heard many stories about perfectly good water, poured out into a glass, andthen tossed down the drain without a second though. Life in pipes is one that, from what I’ve heard, is only worth it if it’s for a reason.
Two
Today started out as just another day. I was swirling in a figure-eight in the shade of the willow tree when I heard a rustle in the bushes. I paid no attention, thinking it was a curious dog or a pesky squirrel. To my surprise, out stepped a boy. He was rather young, but just old enough to be in school. Close behind, his parents followed. “This spot is perfect!” he exclaimed, pointing to a patch of grass under the willow tree. It was obvious that few people had been there in a long time, probably because of the trek through the bushes that was required to reach it.
I didn’t pay much attention to what happened next. The parents laid out a large checkered blanket and a picnic basket. The boy made an attempt to climb the willow tree. When he couldn’t, his father ruffled his sandy brown hair. “Maybe when you’re older, kiddo.” He said, his Irish accent just thick enough to be noticeable. Minutes later, his mother finished making the sandwiches. After grabbing his (peanut butter and jelly, no doubt), he sat by the edge of the lake, dipping his toes in the water. It was in this moment that I realized that I had never been so close to a person. Sure I had observed them and brushed along many things made by them, but never had I been able to touch one.
Slowly but surely, I made my way towards his feet. Once I was close enough, I passed by quickly, weaving through his toes and out again. The boy giggled and lifted his toes out of the water. “Hey, that tickled.” He said, as if he was speaking to someone. Which, he kind of was. If I had a mouth, I would have smiled. And if I had smiled, I’m sure he would have smiled back. My first human contact. To water, this was as significant as a baby’s first step, or losing your virginity.
The boy didn’t stay for long. In fact, he ran back over to his parents after finishing his sandwich. After more eating and conversation, he disappeared into the bushes. His parents packed up and then, they too disappeared. I wondered if I’d ever see any of them, especially the boy, ever again. I know one thing’s for sure, even if I don’t, I will always remember his sandy brown hair, his innocent giggle, and the way his toes felt. More than ever, though, I will remember his eyes. His eyes sparkled, and were bluer than I could ever be.
Three
It’s been years since I first saw him, and months since I last saw him. At first, he passed by the lake at least once a week, and had a picnic once every four or five weeks. His weekly visits have since become more and more spread out, and similarly, his family picnics have been too. I know humans grow up sometimes, but I didn’t expect this to change his mannerisms so much. I find myself thinking about him quite a lot. I figure he’s about ten years old by now. Maybe he no longer enjoys the lake? No, that doesn’t make sense. Maybe he is on a vacation? Yes, that must be it.
The last time I saw him, he wasn’t picnicking with his family. In fact, he was at the lake by himself. He had attempted to climb the willow tree, only to realize there was already a girl in the tree. As soon as he identified her as female, he skittered down the tree and stepped back. She jumped down from the tree and they sat down to talk. I had never seen her before, but she seemed like a very nice girl. She had long brown hair in waves down her back, freckles on her cheeks, and honey colored eyes. She was very pretty, but what I envied most was her hair. If I was a human, I would want to have hair just like hers.
The boy must have liked her hair too, because he tugged on it a couple of times. She didn’t seem to like that. Actually, she screamed the first time. The second time, she just stood up and left. He ran after her. I sunk to the bottom of the lake to get some rest.
Four
It was a Thursday in the middle of fall, and most kids were in school when I caught a glimpse of him last. He was with his friends, and they were the only ones around. Since they were on the other side of the lake, I made my way over there to get a better look.
The boy and his friends had tied a tire swing to one of the trees and were taking turns jumping off of it and into the water. One by one, they jumped in. Then it was the boy’s turn to jump. He landed in a cannonball, making a large splash. As he treaded water and I flowed around his shoulders, I realized that he had grown a lot since I had last seen him. He had hit puberty and his baby fat was replaced with muscle. He was slightly tanned from spending time outside, and I guessed that he was an athlete, perhaps a swimmer.
My theory was proven correct when he won a ‘hold-your -breath’ contest and was the only one able to swim to the other side of the lake and back nonstop. And I carried him every stroke of the way. He’s becoming less of a boy and more of a man every time I see him, and yet his eyes still sparkle and his hair is still ruffled, just like the day I first saw him.
The boy and his friends didn’t spend the whole day by the lake, but they did spend a good deal of it there. After swimming, they sat in the grass and talked as they ate their lunches. Their backpacks were all lined up by the tree, so I knew their parents thought they were in school. Sometime after lunch, they all left together, with plans to hang out at the park and play soccer. I didn’t want him to leave, but at the same time, it certainly was nice to see him again.
Five
It is official; the boy is no longer a boy. He is now a man. Not only has he not been to the lake in ages, but the last time I saw him was at night. And, he brought a girl with him. It was the same girl with the same long brown hair, but she had grown tall and slim. Her freckles had long faded and she had curves where she didn’t before. And the boy (who will forever be a boy even when he is a man)… he was taller and more muscular. His features were no longer as soft and childlike and he now had stubble brushed across his face.
When I first saw the boy and girl in the grassy spot by the willow tree, they sat and spoke for a while. Then, they stood and began removing their clothing, preparing for a swim. I expected them to have their swim suits underneath their clothes, but boy was I wrong. Now, it was weird enough to feel human skin, but even weirder was to feel only human skin, without anything protecting their normally covered bits.
The boy and girl swam around for a while. Being a swimmer, he was much better than she, but after a while they just started playing around. They splashed each other, hugged each other… in this tangle of human and water, I’m pretty sure I brushed every inch of his skin, intentionally or not. His shoulders have become wider, his chest and stomach muscles are more defined… and there were moments when I felt like I should have just left and stayed at the other end of the lake until they left.
They crawled out of the water and onto the grass by the willow tree once more, slightly tired. The girl lay down on her back and the boy sat sideways beside her before leaning downwards for a slow but passionate kiss. I sunk to the bottom of the lake. Watching any longer would feel so wrong, and besides, it would kill me much more than it was already killing me to hear every noise that escaped their desperate lips. By the time I returned to the surface hours later, they were gone.
Six
It’s been a while since I saw him last. After that fateful day where I saw the boy and girl… doing things together which I could never do with him… well, they did visit a couple of times. Once they just sat in their car in the parking lot, watching the sun set. The second time, they had a picnic under the willow tree. Partway through, he stood, pulled a small box out of his pocket, and got down on one knee. I couldn’t see the contents of the box. I didn’t have to; I knew inside was a diamond ring more beautiful than the one in the girl’s dreams. She was obviously very happy, and seeing how both of their grins stretched wider and wider, she must have said yes. And then, the grin plastered across her face was plastered against his.
They spoke for a while. A small wedding, just friends and close family… Her father would have to fly in from England. “I want it to be here.” He told her. “It’s the spot where we first met… a lot of firsts happened here, both for us and for me…” The girl giggled, knowing what he spoke of, and agreed. The wedding would be under the willow tree. There certainly was enough space. Just a few friends and family… and me, I added mentally. There was plenty of space for the few people to be seated. They brought up the man from the nearby church, the boy’s younger cousin as a ring bearer… they spent the rest of the picnic speaking about their plans. I stopped listening.
I carried myself to the middle of the pond, sinking slightly. I brushed along a few underwater plants, kicked up a few stones, and petted a few fish. Nothing could calm me down. I wondered whether I should actually attend the wedding. Maybe for a little bit, I thought. I could watch them say their vows, watch them leave… I’d just see the ending, for that was the important part, right?
Seven
The boy and the girl married today. Like I planned, I missed the beginning of it. By the time I made it to their end of the lake, the girl had already made her way down the aisle. She looked beautiful in her veil and long white, strapless wedding dress… however ironic it was that she wore a pure dress while standing in the spot that, years earlier, had taken her purity away. And of course, he looked very handsome as well. His shining cufflinks twinkled and his jacket hugged his broad shoulders, outlining his lean yet muscular frame.
They spoke words to each other that I dared not pay any attention to. The rings were lifted off of the velvet pillow and the child holding it sighed with relief, knowing his job was done. But I only watched the groom, as he slipped the ring on his new bride. The boy and girl were now husband and wife. A deep, mystic voice I didn’t recognize spoke, saying “You may now kiss the bride.” I saw the kiss, heard the music swell, and made my way away from the end of the lake.
As the boy started a new life with his new wife, I decided I would start a new life of my own. I would go away from this lake, and pour myself out to sea. Maybe I could find myself some meaning, for all I had was my wishful hopes that the boy would one day dip himself into the lake so that I could feel his skin one more time. Wishing, hoping, dreaming… what life is that? It is no life, I realized. No life at all.
Staying in the same lake… I had no life here anymore, and so I jumped out into the river, crashing against rocks as I did, making my way… It would take years to reach the ocean, what with all the water pushing past me, but I had time. Maybe I could find a life along the way. Maybe I could find another frolicking child or thirsty fish, gasping for my oxygen. Unlike people, I could last as long as I wanted to, and I wanted to last a long, long time.
Eight
I didn’t expect to ever see him again, but I did. He was on a hike with his family. That’s right, his family; his wife and two children. The daughter had brown eyes and blonde hair, an even mix between her parents. The son, however, was the spitting image of his father, and looked exactly as he had the first time I saw him, dipping his toes in the lake.
They were hiking along a path by the side of the river, then walked halfway across the bridge and stopped. The two kids decided to play a game. Each one would pick up a stick and drop it in the water on one side, then run to the other end of the bridge to see which came out first. The son chose a straight brown stick while the girl’s stick was bent and had some moss on it. As I let the rush of the water carry me down the river, I heard the boy count out “One… two… three!” and on three, the children dropped the two sticks. One landed right on top of me, and by the feeling I could tell it belonged to the boy. I rushed under the dark, low bridge and once I could feel the sunlight hit once more, I heard the son cry out in happiness. I moved aside, letting the water around me carry the stick onwards as I looked back at the family as the boy lead his wife and children on into the forest.
Then, I turned around and continued down the river. It was nice to have seen them again; nice to know he was still alive. His life had continued on, and so had I. And so, my life will continue, as I go onwards towards the ocean, waiting to spill out into the sea and join the saltwater that awaits me.
Nine
I finally made it to the ocean today. Once I reached there, I continued swimming for a while, then began to mix and mingle with the water around me. I feel like I’ve turned over a new leaf; started a new part of my life. I no longer have to worry about looking back. I can now just look forward to the future. I can just keep going and leave behind the old me.
I really want to forget about my old hopes and dreams and find new ones. Instead of my life revolving around watching the people around me, I can do things that water is supposed to do. For example, I helped a duckling learn to swim once back at the lake. Maybe I can push a boat or help a fisherman. There are endless possibilities of things I can do.
In fact, I already started. When I started swimming out to sea, a seagull landed nearby. It was trying to wash the dirt out of its feathers, and I helped. See how useful I have become, just by starting over somewhere else? Granted, these are just little things now, but I hope to one day do something big.
I’m not sure if I want to stay where I am or continue traveling. On the one hand, this is the area where I have always been. On the other, I already moved away from my life at the lake; why not go further? You know, I think I have been traveling quite a distance in a (relatively) short period of time. Maybe I should just rest here and get used to life at sea. Yes, that sounds about right. I’ll settle, but not completely. I’ll get used to living around here before moving on. After all, the sea is a vast, deep, dark place and is very different from the lake I grew up on. To do great things, I first must adjust to where I am.
Ten
It’s been years, but I saw the family again. However, the boy wasn’t there. They were at the beach and the boy’s wife was sitting out on a rock crying. Her son, whose hair had darkened and whose skin had paled since I last saw him, no longer looked so much like his father. In fact, when I tried to imagine the boy, I found the image slipping. I can tell it’s been years because the wife’s hair is grey and the son is now an adult. The son has a woman with him, who looks to be his wife, and appears to be pregnant. The daughter has grown a lot too, and seems to be in her late teenage years. She remains on the blanket, reading a book while the son walks out to meet his mother.
“He’s in a better place.” I hear him tell her, and I immediately realize that the son is talking of his father. “We came here to relax, to get away from all that. I’m sure he wouldn’t want us mourning on our vacation.” The mother attempts to dry her tears and walks back over to where the rest of the family sits, her son close behind.
And I continue out to the ocean. I realize that I will never see the boy again. Not his sandy hair, not his playful grin, not even his eyes, which were bluer than I ever was and bluer than I could ever be. Thinking of this made me sad. So sad, in fact, that I slowly began to evaporate. I didn’t even realize what was happening until suddenly, I felt myself being lifted upwards.
So I am no longer water. I became water vapor. As the heat collected, as August turned to September, I rose far far away from the ocean below me. And it is in this evaporating that I realized that now, I am much more than just a couple of tablespoons. As autumn approached and everything became cold, I condensed. I have grown a lot since my days in the lake, and a lot more since I spilled into the ocean. Now, instead of being part of something, I am my own entity. I am my own cloud.
Eleven
The life of a cloud is boring. I may have thought that water had little to do but watch people before, but believe me, it is much harder being a cloud. For one, you can only float where the wind carried you. Every once in a while, an airplane will fly through you, but after the initial tickling sensation, there’s really nothing else. All you do is float and wait. You wait until it gets cold enough for it to rain, and then when you feel so full that you don’t know what to do with it all, you rain. You just rain until all your water has fallen into the ocean, and then it happens all over again.
Maybe I’ve been speaking too much to the cloud next door, who seems to be rather depressed. That’s all he does; rain, swim, evaporate, condense, and rain again. He stays over the ocean specifically so that he can do that. But lately, the wind has carried me away from the ocean, meaning I know it is my time. When I rain, I will hit the ground, maybe sink into the soil, and that will be the end of me.
What happens between now and then… who knows? I may become fog, I may be carried towards the ocean, maybe I’ll be collected in the pots and pans of a poor woman with a leaky roof and survive. As I have said many times before, there are endless possibilities. I’ve always been curious as to which possibility would be mine, but maybe this is one of those times when I should just let fate be fate, and not worry too much about it.
Twelve
I was floating over a suburban area today when I came upon a graveyard. It was daytime, so it wasn’t very spooky and there were many clouds around me covering the sun. I saw a bunch of people dressed in black around a gravestone, and a coffin, ready to be laid into the ground. I floated down a little to get a closer look.
I didn’t realize who it was at first. She was covered by a black hat and a matching black veil. Her dress was long and black and her shoes were black as well. Under her hat, I could barely make out her long, wavy brown hair. Next to her was her son, who was wearing a suit, and looking more grown up than I had ever seen him. Her daughter wore a black dress and dark make-up and the son’s wife, still very pregnant, wore a black dress as well, although hers was more simple and obviously from the maternity section.
The coffin was lowered into the ground and I could feel myself swell, feeling more full than I had ever been before. The son stood and made a speech. I looked at the gravestone. “Loving son, devoted father, faithful husband” it said. Rather cliché for a gravestone, but who was I to complain?
I looked back down at the people below me. None of their eyes were dry. I felt myself swell, filling up, practically overflowing with… emotion?
And then, I fell. It started with a few drops, but then down came more and more. I heard someone mumble, something about the forecast being sunny. Well forecast be damned, I’ll rain when and where I want to. Umbrellas opened and I could feel myself sliding off the curved edges and hitting the ground. A few people left, but the family remained behind, mourning the loss of the boy who was a man who was a father.
I could feel myself seeping into the ground. This is it, I thought. This is the end. My big purpose in life is to water the grass around his gravestone. I then began to sink into the earth, further and further. I was going to end, but I would be with him. It seemed only fit that I would have lived a life dreaming of him, to have ended it still dreaming of him.
THE END
Aquarius
One
My life is not a very eventful one. I’ve remained in the same lake for the entire beginning of it, not flowing down the river out to sea like my relatives do when they grow older. Sometimes I let myself sink to the bottom of the lake, maybe kick up some dirt or wash over a bottom-feeding fish. I may form a small wave and carry a child’s remote-control boat for laps, around and around until he has to go home for lunch. Usually, though, I swirl around in the shade near my favorite willow tree. Few people ever disturb me there, as most prefer to be on the other side of the lake, out in the sun.
People are interesting beings. Much more interesting than myself, anyway. I am merely water. Granted, it is nice knowing my purpose is to help life flourish, but until I end up in a water bottle or the soil of a plant, my existence has very little meaning. The sad part is, once I have fulfilled my duty in quenching the thirst of some person, creature, or plant, I will cease to exist. People have a word for this fading of an existence; the word is “death”. Technically, I am not really alive, which is rather sad. However, the way I’ve heard it described… no longer existing on the planet Earth… it makes me want to do much more than just become another beverage.
I’ve had dreams of what I could do someday. Maybe I’ll wash the shampoo out of someone’s eyes, or pass through the gills of a desperate salmon as she rushes upstream. If I’m lucky, I’ll meet someone, maybe a foreigner when we’re out at sea. Together, we could carry boats of fishermen back home to their wives and children. Alright, maybe I’m a dreamer, but I’ve heard many stories about perfectly good water, poured out into a glass, andthen tossed down the drain without a second though. Life in pipes is one that, from what I’ve heard, is only worth it if it’s for a reason.
Two
Today started out as just another day. I was swirling in a figure-eight in the shade of the willow tree when I heard a rustle in the bushes. I paid no attention, thinking it was a curious dog or a pesky squirrel. To my surprise, out stepped a boy. He was rather young, but just old enough to be in school. Close behind, his parents followed. “This spot is perfect!” he exclaimed, pointing to a patch of grass under the willow tree. It was obvious that few people had been there in a long time, probably because of the trek through the bushes that was required to reach it.
I didn’t pay much attention to what happened next. The parents laid out a large checkered blanket and a picnic basket. The boy made an attempt to climb the willow tree. When he couldn’t, his father ruffled his sandy brown hair. “Maybe when you’re older, kiddo.” He said, his Irish accent just thick enough to be noticeable. Minutes later, his mother finished making the sandwiches. After grabbing his (peanut butter and jelly, no doubt), he sat by the edge of the lake, dipping his toes in the water. It was in this moment that I realized that I had never been so close to a person. Sure I had observed them and brushed along many things made by them, but never had I been able to touch one.
Slowly but surely, I made my way towards his feet. Once I was close enough, I passed by quickly, weaving through his toes and out again. The boy giggled and lifted his toes out of the water. “Hey, that tickled.” He said, as if he was speaking to someone. Which, he kind of was. If I had a mouth, I would have smiled. And if I had smiled, I’m sure he would have smiled back. My first human contact. To water, this was as significant as a baby’s first step, or losing your virginity.
The boy didn’t stay for long. In fact, he ran back over to his parents after finishing his sandwich. After more eating and conversation, he disappeared into the bushes. His parents packed up and then, they too disappeared. I wondered if I’d ever see any of them, especially the boy, ever again. I know one thing’s for sure, even if I don’t, I will always remember his sandy brown hair, his innocent giggle, and the way his toes felt. More than ever, though, I will remember his eyes. His eyes sparkled, and were bluer than I could ever be.
Three
It’s been years since I first saw him, and months since I last saw him. At first, he passed by the lake at least once a week, and had a picnic once every four or five weeks. His weekly visits have since become more and more spread out, and similarly, his family picnics have been too. I know humans grow up sometimes, but I didn’t expect this to change his mannerisms so much. I find myself thinking about him quite a lot. I figure he’s about ten years old by now. Maybe he no longer enjoys the lake? No, that doesn’t make sense. Maybe he is on a vacation? Yes, that must be it.
The last time I saw him, he wasn’t picnicking with his family. In fact, he was at the lake by himself. He had attempted to climb the willow tree, only to realize there was already a girl in the tree. As soon as he identified her as female, he skittered down the tree and stepped back. She jumped down from the tree and they sat down to talk. I had never seen her before, but she seemed like a very nice girl. She had long brown hair in waves down her back, freckles on her cheeks, and honey colored eyes. She was very pretty, but what I envied most was her hair. If I was a human, I would want to have hair just like hers.
The boy must have liked her hair too, because he tugged on it a couple of times. She didn’t seem to like that. Actually, she screamed the first time. The second time, she just stood up and left. He ran after her. I sunk to the bottom of the lake to get some rest.
Four
It was a Thursday in the middle of fall, and most kids were in school when I caught a glimpse of him last. He was with his friends, and they were the only ones around. Since they were on the other side of the lake, I made my way over there to get a better look.
The boy and his friends had tied a tire swing to one of the trees and were taking turns jumping off of it and into the water. One by one, they jumped in. Then it was the boy’s turn to jump. He landed in a cannonball, making a large splash. As he treaded water and I flowed around his shoulders, I realized that he had grown a lot since I had last seen him. He had hit puberty and his baby fat was replaced with muscle. He was slightly tanned from spending time outside, and I guessed that he was an athlete, perhaps a swimmer.
My theory was proven correct when he won a ‘hold-your -breath’ contest and was the only one able to swim to the other side of the lake and back nonstop. And I carried him every stroke of the way. He’s becoming less of a boy and more of a man every time I see him, and yet his eyes still sparkle and his hair is still ruffled, just like the day I first saw him.
The boy and his friends didn’t spend the whole day by the lake, but they did spend a good deal of it there. After swimming, they sat in the grass and talked as they ate their lunches. Their backpacks were all lined up by the tree, so I knew their parents thought they were in school. Sometime after lunch, they all left together, with plans to hang out at the park and play soccer. I didn’t want him to leave, but at the same time, it certainly was nice to see him again.
Five
It is official; the boy is no longer a boy. He is now a man. Not only has he not been to the lake in ages, but the last time I saw him was at night. And, he brought a girl with him. It was the same girl with the same long brown hair, but she had grown tall and slim. Her freckles had long faded and she had curves where she didn’t before. And the boy (who will forever be a boy even when he is a man)… he was taller and more muscular. His features were no longer as soft and childlike and he now had stubble brushed across his face.
When I first saw the boy and girl in the grassy spot by the willow tree, they sat and spoke for a while. Then, they stood and began removing their clothing, preparing for a swim. I expected them to have their swim suits underneath their clothes, but boy was I wrong. Now, it was weird enough to feel human skin, but even weirder was to feel only human skin, without anything protecting their normally covered bits.
The boy and girl swam around for a while. Being a swimmer, he was much better than she, but after a while they just started playing around. They splashed each other, hugged each other… in this tangle of human and water, I’m pretty sure I brushed every inch of his skin, intentionally or not. His shoulders have become wider, his chest and stomach muscles are more defined… and there were moments when I felt like I should have just left and stayed at the other end of the lake until they left.
They crawled out of the water and onto the grass by the willow tree once more, slightly tired. The girl lay down on her back and the boy sat sideways beside her before leaning downwards for a slow but passionate kiss. I sunk to the bottom of the lake. Watching any longer would feel so wrong, and besides, it would kill me much more than it was already killing me to hear every noise that escaped their desperate lips. By the time I returned to the surface hours later, they were gone.
Six
It’s been a while since I saw him last. After that fateful day where I saw the boy and girl… doing things together which I could never do with him… well, they did visit a couple of times. Once they just sat in their car in the parking lot, watching the sun set. The second time, they had a picnic under the willow tree. Partway through, he stood, pulled a small box out of his pocket, and got down on one knee. I couldn’t see the contents of the box. I didn’t have to; I knew inside was a diamond ring more beautiful than the one in the girl’s dreams. She was obviously very happy, and seeing how both of their grins stretched wider and wider, she must have said yes. And then, the grin plastered across her face was plastered against his.
They spoke for a while. A small wedding, just friends and close family… Her father would have to fly in from England. “I want it to be here.” He told her. “It’s the spot where we first met… a lot of firsts happened here, both for us and for me…” The girl giggled, knowing what he spoke of, and agreed. The wedding would be under the willow tree. There certainly was enough space. Just a few friends and family… and me, I added mentally. There was plenty of space for the few people to be seated. They brought up the man from the nearby church, the boy’s younger cousin as a ring bearer… they spent the rest of the picnic speaking about their plans. I stopped listening.
I carried myself to the middle of the pond, sinking slightly. I brushed along a few underwater plants, kicked up a few stones, and petted a few fish. Nothing could calm me down. I wondered whether I should actually attend the wedding. Maybe for a little bit, I thought. I could watch them say their vows, watch them leave… I’d just see the ending, for that was the important part, right?
Seven
The boy and the girl married today. Like I planned, I missed the beginning of it. By the time I made it to their end of the lake, the girl had already made her way down the aisle. She looked beautiful in her veil and long white, strapless wedding dress… however ironic it was that she wore a pure dress while standing in the spot that, years earlier, had taken her purity away. And of course, he looked very handsome as well. His shining cufflinks twinkled and his jacket hugged his broad shoulders, outlining his lean yet muscular frame.
They spoke words to each other that I dared not pay any attention to. The rings were lifted off of the velvet pillow and the child holding it sighed with relief, knowing his job was done. But I only watched the groom, as he slipped the ring on his new bride. The boy and girl were now husband and wife. A deep, mystic voice I didn’t recognize spoke, saying “You may now kiss the bride.” I saw the kiss, heard the music swell, and made my way away from the end of the lake.
As the boy started a new life with his new wife, I decided I would start a new life of my own. I would go away from this lake, and pour myself out to sea. Maybe I could find myself some meaning, for all I had was my wishful hopes that the boy would one day dip himself into the lake so that I could feel his skin one more time. Wishing, hoping, dreaming… what life is that? It is no life, I realized. No life at all.
Staying in the same lake… I had no life here anymore, and so I jumped out into the river, crashing against rocks as I did, making my way… It would take years to reach the ocean, what with all the water pushing past me, but I had time. Maybe I could find a life along the way. Maybe I could find another frolicking child or thirsty fish, gasping for my oxygen. Unlike people, I could last as long as I wanted to, and I wanted to last a long, long time.
Eight
I didn’t expect to ever see him again, but I did. He was on a hike with his family. That’s right, his family; his wife and two children. The daughter had brown eyes and blonde hair, an even mix between her parents. The son, however, was the spitting image of his father, and looked exactly as he had the first time I saw him, dipping his toes in the lake.
They were hiking along a path by the side of the river, then walked halfway across the bridge and stopped. The two kids decided to play a game. Each one would pick up a stick and drop it in the water on one side, then run to the other end of the bridge to see which came out first. The son chose a straight brown stick while the girl’s stick was bent and had some moss on it. As I let the rush of the water carry me down the river, I heard the boy count out “One… two… three!” and on three, the children dropped the two sticks. One landed right on top of me, and by the feeling I could tell it belonged to the boy. I rushed under the dark, low bridge and once I could feel the sunlight hit once more, I heard the son cry out in happiness. I moved aside, letting the water around me carry the stick onwards as I looked back at the family as the boy lead his wife and children on into the forest.
Then, I turned around and continued down the river. It was nice to have seen them again; nice to know he was still alive. His life had continued on, and so had I. And so, my life will continue, as I go onwards towards the ocean, waiting to spill out into the sea and join the saltwater that awaits me.
Nine
I finally made it to the ocean today. Once I reached there, I continued swimming for a while, then began to mix and mingle with the water around me. I feel like I’ve turned over a new leaf; started a new part of my life. I no longer have to worry about looking back. I can now just look forward to the future. I can just keep going and leave behind the old me.
I really want to forget about my old hopes and dreams and find new ones. Instead of my life revolving around watching the people around me, I can do things that water is supposed to do. For example, I helped a duckling learn to swim once back at the lake. Maybe I can push a boat or help a fisherman. There are endless possibilities of things I can do.
In fact, I already started. When I started swimming out to sea, a seagull landed nearby. It was trying to wash the dirt out of its feathers, and I helped. See how useful I have become, just by starting over somewhere else? Granted, these are just little things now, but I hope to one day do something big.
I’m not sure if I want to stay where I am or continue traveling. On the one hand, this is the area where I have always been. On the other, I already moved away from my life at the lake; why not go further? You know, I think I have been traveling quite a distance in a (relatively) short period of time. Maybe I should just rest here and get used to life at sea. Yes, that sounds about right. I’ll settle, but not completely. I’ll get used to living around here before moving on. After all, the sea is a vast, deep, dark place and is very different from the lake I grew up on. To do great things, I first must adjust to where I am.
Ten
It’s been years, but I saw the family again. However, the boy wasn’t there. They were at the beach and the boy’s wife was sitting out on a rock crying. Her son, whose hair had darkened and whose skin had paled since I last saw him, no longer looked so much like his father. In fact, when I tried to imagine the boy, I found the image slipping. I can tell it’s been years because the wife’s hair is grey and the son is now an adult. The son has a woman with him, who looks to be his wife, and appears to be pregnant. The daughter has grown a lot too, and seems to be in her late teenage years. She remains on the blanket, reading a book while the son walks out to meet his mother.
“He’s in a better place.” I hear him tell her, and I immediately realize that the son is talking of his father. “We came here to relax, to get away from all that. I’m sure he wouldn’t want us mourning on our vacation.” The mother attempts to dry her tears and walks back over to where the rest of the family sits, her son close behind.
And I continue out to the ocean. I realize that I will never see the boy again. Not his sandy hair, not his playful grin, not even his eyes, which were bluer than I ever was and bluer than I could ever be. Thinking of this made me sad. So sad, in fact, that I slowly began to evaporate. I didn’t even realize what was happening until suddenly, I felt myself being lifted upwards.
So I am no longer water. I became water vapor. As the heat collected, as August turned to September, I rose far far away from the ocean below me. And it is in this evaporating that I realized that now, I am much more than just a couple of tablespoons. As autumn approached and everything became cold, I condensed. I have grown a lot since my days in the lake, and a lot more since I spilled into the ocean. Now, instead of being part of something, I am my own entity. I am my own cloud.
Eleven
The life of a cloud is boring. I may have thought that water had little to do but watch people before, but believe me, it is much harder being a cloud. For one, you can only float where the wind carried you. Every once in a while, an airplane will fly through you, but after the initial tickling sensation, there’s really nothing else. All you do is float and wait. You wait until it gets cold enough for it to rain, and then when you feel so full that you don’t know what to do with it all, you rain. You just rain until all your water has fallen into the ocean, and then it happens all over again.
Maybe I’ve been speaking too much to the cloud next door, who seems to be rather depressed. That’s all he does; rain, swim, evaporate, condense, and rain again. He stays over the ocean specifically so that he can do that. But lately, the wind has carried me away from the ocean, meaning I know it is my time. When I rain, I will hit the ground, maybe sink into the soil, and that will be the end of me.
What happens between now and then… who knows? I may become fog, I may be carried towards the ocean, maybe I’ll be collected in the pots and pans of a poor woman with a leaky roof and survive. As I have said many times before, there are endless possibilities. I’ve always been curious as to which possibility would be mine, but maybe this is one of those times when I should just let fate be fate, and not worry too much about it.
Twelve
I was floating over a suburban area today when I came upon a graveyard. It was daytime, so it wasn’t very spooky and there were many clouds around me covering the sun. I saw a bunch of people dressed in black around a gravestone, and a coffin, ready to be laid into the ground. I floated down a little to get a closer look.
I didn’t realize who it was at first. She was covered by a black hat and a matching black veil. Her dress was long and black and her shoes were black as well. Under her hat, I could barely make out her long, wavy brown hair. Next to her was her son, who was wearing a suit, and looking more grown up than I had ever seen him. Her daughter wore a black dress and dark make-up and the son’s wife, still very pregnant, wore a black dress as well, although hers was more simple and obviously from the maternity section.
The coffin was lowered into the ground and I could feel myself swell, feeling more full than I had ever been before. The son stood and made a speech. I looked at the gravestone. “Loving son, devoted father, faithful husband” it said. Rather cliché for a gravestone, but who was I to complain?
I looked back down at the people below me. None of their eyes were dry. I felt myself swell, filling up, practically overflowing with… emotion?
And then, I fell. It started with a few drops, but then down came more and more. I heard someone mumble, something about the forecast being sunny. Well forecast be damned, I’ll rain when and where I want to. Umbrellas opened and I could feel myself sliding off the curved edges and hitting the ground. A few people left, but the family remained behind, mourning the loss of the boy who was a man who was a father.
I could feel myself seeping into the ground. This is it, I thought. This is the end. My big purpose in life is to water the grass around his gravestone. I then began to sink into the earth, further and further. I was going to end, but I would be with him. It seemed only fit that I would have lived a life dreaming of him, to have ended it still dreaming of him.
THE END