The Aquarium

Her face reflected in the glass as fish swam by in their courses. Brightly coloured and abundant in variety, but they could not steal her gaze. She watched as a tear ran down her face, the shadowed image did enough to convey reality, albeit, magnifying sadness.

“You should not have left me here.”

Her voice whispered without fogging the glass. She lifted her hand, fingertips resting gingerly and becoming one with the reflected image. Life had felt that way at times, a reflection of something more concrete, real, but now it was where she lived. Incomplete. Wanting.

Gem fish made another pass and bubbles of air rose to the surface. The scene was tranquil, but she could not grasp it. The noise of children turned her head briefly.

“Mummy, look, it’s the shark!”

The young boy ran, as fast as his little legs would allow, around to the other side of the tank.

“Max!” exclaimed his obviously flustered mother. “Don’t run away from me!”

But Max was out of site, his mother careering after him, holding a giant stuffed toy that resembled a swordfish and trying to keep her handbag on shoulder. Other children giggled, laughed as they held flossed candy, balloons and stuffed marine animals of various kinds.

“That used to be you, you know,” said the reflection in the glass.

She dropped her hand to her side, slowly stepping backwards until the image in the glass disappeared. It was right. The voice was right. In her dreams, she skipped through the meadow while butterflies fluttered here and there. The sun felt warm and comforting on her face as she laughed and spun around as if dancing to the music of the meadow.

“But the dream is gone, now, isn’t it?”

No-one heard her, the words mouthed, if they were spoken at all. Crowds went on by and she almost felt like the fish in the tank, only, in her case, she was not going anywhere – not even in circles.

She turned and made her way to the only unoccupied seat in front of the aquarium. It felt good, comfortable, and conveniently out of sight. She almost smiled.

“Max, you stop right now! We will never come here again!”

Young Max was getting the upper hand on his poor mother’s sanity.

“I need to follow the shark, mummy! It is here, look!”

His excited voice trailed off as he hurried into the distance, following the shark, while his mother struggled to keep up.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and children. Please enjoy the final 30 minutes of the aquarium and make your way to the exit by five pm. Ensure all waste is placed in the bins provided. Thank you for coming to Glass Floor today, we were so excited to have you.”

On the seat, she swallowed hardly, and her eyes were veiled by a sense of foreboding. Nights were the hardest. As the last bunch of people made their way to the exit, she waited for the caretaker to make his rounds and then…

…then the lights would go out.

-

The aquarium light cast its eerie blueness across the room as shadows competed for available space. From her seat, she wished for them to hide her, to be her. As the shark made its way slowly around and then out of sight, silence reigned. This was their world. The silent world. She imagined the depths of the sea, noiseless, dark, and cold. The creatures there knew no better. They were made for that home.

She watched a school of clown fish make another circuit. Did they think at all? Did they see beyond their confinement, to the room beyond the glass. Could their tiny minds grasp the reality of the creatures that to them, made countless circuits, around and around, their varied colours, shapes, and sizes?

Sighing she realised that these two worlds existed in ignorance. Oh, one more than the other, but both unaware, to the fullest extent, of the reality of each. As they made their circuits, day by day, month by month.

Year by year.

The night guard arrived right on time. He looked in her direction, but she may as well have been a window or breath of wind. You see, he did not live in her world, not anymore. He moved over to one of the seats and pulled a candy bar from his top pocket, laying his torch next to him. As he ate, he said aloud, “Hello Samson.”

The shark did not answer, but you would swear it recognised he was there, as if its eyes were fixed upon him the whole way around.

The guard went on chewing, smiling as he did so.

She got up from her seat and walked over to his. Reaching out her hand, she touched his shoulder with her fingertips. He went right on eating, unaware of her presence.

“He’ll never see you.”

The voice behind her was certainly familiar, even expected, but it made her jump none-the-less.

“I know,” she answered in tone melancholic.

“You volunteered; you know. You could have – “

She turned to face him.

“said no.”

She stood, arms by her sides and held back tears.

“You never told me,” she said, “that it would be like…like this.”

There was compassion in his tone, but his words were firm, he answered, “I wanted to tell you. I…”

He tilted his head to stare at the ceiling as if to find the right words spelled out in the air above him.

“…they would not let me. Said it was dangerous.”

She let her head drop and stared at a spot in front of her feet.

“Dangerous,” she replied, barely audible, as the shark passed by again. “More dangerous than – “she lifted her head and gazed at him, eyes welling with tears, “than this?”

He went to say something else but decided not to. He glanced down at a device on his wrist.

“I…I must go.”

No sooner had the words been said, but he vanished, like vapor in the open air and she was alone again. This time, she did not head for the seat but instead sat crossed legged on the floor. She gazed up at those poor creatures and mourned for them. The night turned them into the same shade of blue. The colour gone, they looked so very gloomy. Them in their circuits. She reached out her hand, but they could never see. Just like the night guard, like the mother and her excitable child.

As all of them.

She got to her feet and approached the glass once more. As she did, a thought arose inside her heart like a gentle sunrise. Her mind recalled the meadow again and its dancing, delightful colour.

She watched the gemfish pass by. She watched the night guard cross the room and the thought filled her soul with joy, so much so that she spoke it into the silence.

“I see you. I always will.”

Shark and night guard passed by again, but more slowly this time.