19th of Summer, 495 AV Little Acair sat in awe of the clownfish, their dappled reds, blacks and whites shimmered under the waves, gesturing close to the water and stared at him before ducking for cover as water splashed aboard the deck. The bright blue gnosis that moved on Acair’s arm pulsed bravely. Suddenly he was being lifted up, papa’s rough hands poking Acair’s naked belly as he was hoisted on his daddy’s shoulders. Papa was a great beast of a man, tall and wide, but not as big as the ship that hopped on the sea. ‘Mockburd’ Acair said proudly, waving his arm towards the deck far below. “Mockingbird.” Papa corrected him, pointing at a little birdy carved into the mast. His smile of delight was partially hidden behind his hairy mouth, speckled like seaform. Papa turned to where Acair was looking, grinning at the fishies that swam underneath. “Do you like the fishes Acair?” Papa asked. Acair lightly kicked his fathers chest and squealed. “Yeah!” Papa’s grin turned to laughter as his hands tightened around little Acair’s ankles. Acair began to laugh too, even though he wasn’t sure yet what was so funny. Without hesitation, Papa bristled his arms, Acair flipped with his feet tightly secured in Papa’s rolled up hands, dangling over the deck like a fish just pulled from the sea. The clownfish below darted as Papa’s hands loosened and the ocean blue got closer and closer. Acair’s eyes widened with fright. The initial splash into the water was thunderous, the cold seeping into his skin, Acair opened his mouth to scream but swallowed seawater instead; he tumbled with the waves. Acair began to kick, like momma tried to teach him, but his arms felt like wet noodles, bent effortlessly by the water. A pair of hands gripped him and Acair felt the sun, the fresh salty air brush across his face. He began to cough before getting sick in the blue water, the clownfish returning to spin beneath the rancid green. Momma brought him in view of her face, her lips pursed in disapproval. “Did a badger teach you to swim when you were younger?” she asked casually. Acair peeked at her in interest, the words swimming over his head. “Once upon a time.” Papa said with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around them both. Mama’s eyes rolled and thrust Acair in Papa’s hands. “The poor boy has soiled himself… you have your ways of teaching, I have mine.” Papa thrust up his hand in a mock salute, walking away with Acair wedged between his hands. Acair was looking up at the mast as they passed it, the tiny bird carved in it seeming to flutter as the wind blew. “Mockburd” he thought in wonder. |