“Underwater Discovery”

12/03/07

 John Stevick

Hans reached out to taste the water with his fingertips, only to have his hand restricted by the glass casing.  He left it there, pressed against the glass.  But only for a moment before allowing himself to continue washing the transparent tank.  Hans had been working at the Monterey Bay Aquarium for the past three summers to support his college education.  He certainly did not love spraying on and wiping off Windex solution for a living, but he did, however, enjoy watching the marine animals glide through the water.

            Ever since Hans was a child, his feelings towards the sea had resembled more of an obsession than an interest.  This fixation with the underwater world did not just manifest on its own.  On the contrary, it was developed slowly over time.  His parents used to leave him alone in the house, with only the living room fish tank to comfort him.  Before long he had come to accept his parents’ common absences and had begun to make new friends.  One was blue with pale yellow stripes and another was olive green with rough scales.  The fish grew to accept the presence of this young, wide-eyed stranger.  They swam about the perimeter of their confinement, as if to connect with the outstretched hands of the boy. 

            This boy had grown and matured, but had forever retained a connection with those underwater.  However, his work shift eventually came to an end, like it did day after day.  From there, he returned to his apartment.   Hans opened the door to unexpectedly find Peter sitting on the couch.  Something was awry because Peter was always awaiting Hans’ return with a hug and kiss.  But today, Peter had a concerned look on his face and motioned for Hans to take a seat by him.  Not knowing how to put it any other way, Peter bluntly expressed his feelings about their relationship, or lack there of. 

“What is going on with you, Hans? Answer me honestly now.”  He paused, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and continued,  “Is the magic gone?”

“Peter, don’t be ridiculous.  What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer the question!”

“Look, I don’t know.  I’ve just been really busy lately, with my work and all.”  Hans clenched his body, wishing he could share all of his thoughts with Peter. 

“Hans, you pretty much clean windows for a living.  How can you possibly be preoccupied with your occupation, if you can call it that?” 

Hans decided not to say anything in return.  The argument had ended.   Peter grabbed his coat and shouted out before slamming the door, “We aren’t going to get anywhere if you’re not going to open up and share!”

            Despite Peter’s attempts, Hans stubbornly refused to discuss his true feelings.  Hans had been returning home from work later, refusing to talk for extensive periods of time, and rejecting passes in the bedroom.  Hans wanted so badly to be able to take Peter’s pain away, but could not.  He knew that his behavior had been creating concerns, but he hadn’t the slightest idea on how to fix it.  He felt as if he were being pulled further and further out to sea by a perpetual under toe.  Half of him wanted to swim back to shore, but the other half wanted to succumb to the temptation of the unknown and ever elusive underworld.  

            For most of his life, Hans had been questioning who he was.   He had lost his identity and was not even sure if he had ever had one.  He needed an answer, a sign, or some sort of direction.  Lately, he had doubted his sexuality and whether he was actually gay.  Could it be a façade?  Could I be hiding from my true feelings?   He wanted somebody, something, or anything to comprehend and understand what he was feeling.  Hans tried desperately to be normal, but could never quite fit in.  He was different.  Whether it was because he had never had a healthy relationship with his parents or because he talked to fish, his isolation from others was forever present.  He felt as if he had been exiled to a small island.  Fortunately, he did have an ocean full of friends. 

*      *      *

Hans had a burning desire, one that had been growing ever since he had set eyes on her.  It was so strong and undeniable.  He questioned himself at times.  Was it lust? No, it had to be more.  With her it was so easy.  What they shared was something natural and whole.  Nothing was complicated, partly due to the absence of verbal communication.  And yet, that suited Hans.  He enjoyed the purity of such a connection without, or rather beyond, words.  There was a genuine attraction that defeated the superficial and stood uncontested. 

Hans leaned against the wooden railing at the edge of the pier.  He gazed out to the line at which the water met the sky.  He could no longer suppress his love.  The sea was raging, and the waves were beginning to surmount.  The tides were beginning to regress and it felt as if his opportunity was slipping away.  They were so close to each other and yet worlds apart.  He thought to himself.  

Should I inform Peter? 

No, I mustn’t play with his heart anymore.  To tell him that my love for him was not whole, would only cause him more pain.

            Hans and Peter were hopelessly drifting apart from one another.  Hans then decided to surrender their relationship and give up.  He watched as the waves rolled in and crashed among the rocks in a violent collision.  The ocean was calling; the water was calling; she was calling.  Suddenly pushing off from the railing and into a sprint, he realized that he needed to confront Peter.

            “Hello!”  Hans called out as he swung open the front door. “Peter, we need to talk.”

            “You’re damn right we need to talk.  I was about to-“

            “I am not gay.”

            Peter paused until something finally managed to escape, “What in holy hell are you talking about!?”

            “Yeah, I’m afraid so,” he said as they both took a seat without breaking eye contact.  “The truth is that we haven’t been close for a while now.  I have been doing some soul searching, and I am just not attracted to men anymore.  We just aren’t in sync.”

            “Hans, you’re delusional.  Any guy who uses the words ‘in sync’ is gay.  Come on, you know me.”

            “I’m serious, I am not gay.  And to tell you the truth Bob, I don’t know you as well as I used to.”

            “Bob? My name isn’t Bob.”

            “You see, I don’t even know your name anymore.”

            “Hans, baby, you’re talking nonsense.”

            “No, you’re nonsense.  I am out of here!”

            “Fine! You just be that way, but tell me one thing.”

            Hans turns back, “What?”

            “Is there somebody else?”

            “Yes.”

            “Who?”

            Hans opened his mouth, but paused; he decided to leave and rushes out the door. 

            “Who? Hans! Who!?  Peter calls out while shaking his fists with vehement rage.

*      *     *

            It was dark and needless to say, past visiting hours.  As he entered, the marina’s gates screeched loudly enough to hear over the thundering rain.  Hans could wait no longer.  He wanted to see her; he wanted to touch her; he needed to be with her.   He walked past the shark exhibit, the whale tank, and the hands-on coral reef.  And there she was, circling around the top of the tank, waiting for him.  He stood above, palms turned towards the sky.  He felt the rain against his body.  He belonged here. 

Should I let her know?  She must know already; what we have is something special.  I think she must know, but why not reconfirm my feelings with words. 

            “Listen to me baby, I was meant to tread your water but now I've gotten in too deep.   Every piece of me wants you, but there’s another piece that keeps backing away like the undercurrents of the waves.  I’m scared.  I’m really scared.   But you give me something.  I realize that this could be nothing, but I’m willing to give it a try.   What I’m trying to say is that I want to be more than friends.  You know what I’m saying; we need each other.  So now you know how I feel.”

His eyes slowly lowered from the heavy clouds to her eyes.  He could feel the emotion, the surmounting passion.  He succumbed to the desire driven pull as he dove into the tank.  Being consumed by the water, his feet were the last part of his body to enter.  Instead of curving his body upwards towards the surface he stayed under, observing the underwater environment.  After what appeared to be hours of soaking in the surroundings, his eyes redirected themselves back towards her.  He swam to her and anchored his arm around her body so that they were eye to eye.  This was where he belonged; he was home.