Photo credit Laura Adai
The day was clear and sunny, with a dreamy tropical breeze. On the wooden dock, the wife stood by the big boat with her husband, waiting among the other 30 people. The couple’s children, a girl and boy, ages six and four respectively, clung to the wife’s hands. It was quiet, except for the occasional licking of the waves against the bulkhead.
The night before they were told they must arrive 10 minutes before the departure which was nine o’clock in the morning. The rules also stated that they were to bring nothing on board but themselves.
Behind the boat’s wheel, a man with a graying goatee gunned the motor. His comrade, a brown man with tobacco-stained teeth, stood on the dock. He carried a braided rope over his shoulder. In broken English, he yelled, “Et’s time to geet onboard.” One at a time, the people climbed onto the boat’s berth which was arranged with long benches.
“I’ve got you,” an old, frail man with a fisherman’s hat said softly to the stooped woman gripping his hand. He guided her as she stepped over the boat’s rim. They joined a group of men, women, and children positioned in the center of the boat.
A very pregnant young lady dressed in a white halter blouse hesitated. “What if I get seasick?” she asked the tall strapping young man behind her who was carrying a toddler girl. He rubbed her back and whispered in her ear, and they continued onto the boat.
The wife, hearing this talk, became fearful.
After everyone assembled on board, and the lines tethering the boat to the docks were untied, the man with the goatee steered the boat away. Out in the ocean, the boat accelerated. Soon, the island was barely visible.
“Mommy, where are we going?” the little boy asked the wife.
“I’m not sure,” she said fidgeting with her blonde hair. “But we’re not going to fret, are we?” She blinked her eyes and tapped her husband on the arm. The husband’s kind hazel eyes locked with hers, and then he put his index finger to his lips to silence her.
Soon, the boat stopped, and everyone on board moved to the front. The wife craned her neck through the crowd. She saw that each passenger was exiting the boat. Next to it was a partially submerged green vessel where one by one the passengers were descending through a hatch. When everyone was off, the big blue boat motored away.
Inside the green vessel, everyone was ordered to sit in twos. The wife took a seat beside her daughter, the husband and son in the two seats behind them. Soon, the vessel rocked back and forth.
The wife’s hands grew clammy. Her vision became distorted as if she were peering through the eyes of a squid.
Flash pictures of giant sharks, whales, and lion’s mane jellyfish swirled around her, threatening to crush her. Once, she thought she saw a girl smiling with a crown of colorful coral atop her waist-length red hair. There was something wrong with the girl’s feet.
Photo credit Colin Lloyd
The wife closed her eyes, but couldn’t stop seeing bursts of sparkling green, neon pink, aqua blue. A cacophony of leather on steel, wind through pipes, and wood on plastic percussive beat at her brain. The walls closed around her like vise grips.
The muscles in her neck locked up. A pool of saliva filled the back of her throat, restricting her voice. Her heart beat faster and faster until it appeared to be roaring louder than the boat.
She heard laughter, like that from a laugh machine in a fun house, coming from the other passengers, even her husband, son, and daughter. Why didn’t they help her?
The vessel came to a stop. The brown man with the rope still around his shoulder commanded them to climb the ladder toward the hatch’s opening. She propelled herself past everyone in line and fiercely climbed toward the direction of the sun’s rays. She inhaled the fresh salt air. The big blue boat had come back.
The man with the goatee stepped aside as she disembarked. He grinned and said, “Thank you for taking our Little Mermaid glass-bottomed boat tour today.”
Author’s Commentary
I wrote this flash fiction a few years back when for some unknown reason I’d experienced a fleeting bout of claustrophobia when my husband and I took our kids on a glass-bottom boat. A few months later, it happened again on a plane. And as swiftly as it came, I never experienced claustrophobia again.
The incident didn’t occur exactly as written. But I will be going on a long flight (15 hours) to India in a few days, and it made me think about these episodes. Wish me luck!