Oceania: The Underwater City

by Eliza Taye

  Grasping the thick, heavy, leather book, I tugged it out. There had to be at least 1,000 pages in it. Brushing my fingers across the cover, I read the title: The Complete Guide of Tidal Flora and Fauna of Central and Northern California.

  Trudging confidently to the waterline, my feet slipped as soon as they contacted the slimy, wet, grass, causing me to fall straight on my butt. I made up my mind that one of these days I was going to remember not to slip on the grass. Luckily, I hadn’t let go of the book when I fell, so it was still dry. Standing back up, I slid my feet on the slickness of the grass, careful to keep my balance until I found a suitable place to sit down.

  Opening the book, it creaked as the old binding came apart slightly in one section. Tenderly cradling it in the crook of my left arm and balancing it against my bent knees, I turned a few pages until I found the table of contents. Instantly, I recognized that everything was grouped by kingdom, phylum, class, order, and so on. Thank goodness, they had the common names as well as the scientific ones for everything. It took me a bit, but I was able to identify the grass I was sitting in as surfgrass, or Phyllospadix torreyi. Running my hands over the surfgrass, I could feel the slick, slimy fibers of the strands. Based on what the book said, the sliminess I felt was used to help keep it from drying out too much in the sun. I guess it was the plant’s version of SPF-45.

  Gingerly, I stood up on the surfgrass and made my way down the beach to the incoming surf. Exploring the wet sand region, I observed two different starfish. One was very purple and somewhat large. Spindly-looking veins spread out from the star-shaped center with a dot in the middle to cover the entire starfish. The other one had bright orange skin that appeared to be trapped between deciding if it had scales or ridge-like dots on its body.

  Reaching down, I tried to pick up the purple one, but as I tugged and tugged, it refused to loosen its grip on the rock. Giving up, I moved to the bright orange one and lifted it with ease. Turning it over, it was much paler than its orange posterior. Grooves ran down each arm with tiny little hair-like things that reminded me of the bristles of a limp toothbrush. Sweeping my fingertip down the length of the arm, I felt how soft, yet clingy the bristle-like things were. The starfish began to move minutely as I held it, making me feel guilty for disturbing it. Squatting, I replaced it exactly where I had found it, bright side up.

  Plucking the book out from under my arm where I’d tucked it, I hastily looked up both starfish. When I searched for starfish, I discovered the correct word for it was sea star. Finding the corresponding pages for the ones in front of me, I learned the purple one was called an ochre sea star, or Pisaster ochraceus. The orange one was a bat star, or Patiria miniata.

  As I continued walking down the beach, the surf lapping up to my ankles with each incoming wave, I encountered more and more sea stars. Eventually, they became so numerous that I had a hard time not stepping on some of them. I began to wonder how people bought the lie about pollution spoiling the beaches here. This area was thriving. Then it dawned on me that it was probably thriving because humans were staying away.

  Fearing I’d wind up stepping on one of the sea stars, I moved back towards the top of the beach to examine some of the tidepools Dylan had shown me the first day we’d met. Passing by my backpack, I slung it onto my left shoulder when something caught my eye. It resembled the little anemone Dylan had once shown me in the tidepool, but this one was much larger. The innermost ring of the anemone was a very rich aqua-green color that nearly mesmerized me as I gazed at it. The outside tendrils were of a slightly lighter green with reddish-purple tips. It definitely was the most beautiful anemone I’d ever seen.

  Quickly, I turned the pages of the book to search for anemones. It took me a lot longer than I had wished, but I was able to find the section on sea anemones. Flipping through the pages, I discovered this particular anemone was called starburst anemone, or as scientists referred to it—Anthopleura sola. Reading further, I learned that what I called the innermost ring was properly called the oral disk. The “tendrils” were actually feeding arms they used to catch food particles in the water as it floated by. I read on until I had completed the entire section on the starburst anemone.

  Closing the book, I moved on to the tidepools and spent the next several hours identifying almost every creature I saw there. I tried my best to learn and memorize both the common and scientific names of the animals. One of the oddest species I found was a gooseneck barnacle, or Pollicipes polymerus, which had the weirdest shape I’d ever seen for a barnacle. It had a long neck like a goose, which I guess is what gave it its common name. With the cream-colored white top, it resembled a mushroom more than something that belonged near the sea. The mussels clinging basically to every rock on this beach were California mussel, or Mytilus californianus.

  Before I knew it, the sun drifted low on the horizon and I’d have to return home soon. Having enough of looking up invertebrates and running out of new ones to identify, I decided to cool off in the cold waters of the Pacific. Leaning to the left and allowing my backpack to slide off my shoulder, I set it on the ground. Unzipping the rear compartment, I slid the library book back into its place. Finding a large rock, I rested it on top where the incoming tide couldn’t take it out to sea.

  Turning toward the ocean, I scrambled across the rocks down to the waves, my footprints leaving deep indentations as I pounded the sand to reach the sea. Cool splashes of glorious water collided with my overheated skin when I crashed into the surf. Diving into the waves, I let the cold, silkiness of the water flow over my entire body. It felt so good that I began to wonder how I could have stayed on land for so long.

  As I had many times before, I swam far beyond the breakers where the sea was calmer and enjoyed the feeling of being immersed in the ocean with no ground at my feet.

  Repeatedly, I dove underwater and swam with the fish, gazing up through the blue to the white light of the sun shining down. Each time I had to return to the surface for a breath was a wasted moment. All I wished was to stay beneath the waves for as long as possible.

  Eventually needing a break, I treaded water for a while, watching the sun continue to make its way toward the horizon. Focused on the sun and its retreating rays, I was brought back to the sea when I felt a bump on my leg. Startled, for a second, I feared a shark had just attacked me. Twisting around, I vigilantly searched everywhere for the telltale dorsal fin, as I reached down to check my calf to see if a chunk of it was missing. My hand felt only the smooth skin of my leg and I let out a sigh of relief. Then, the next thing I knew, Jagger popped up in front of me and spoke in the squeaky voice of a dolphin.

  “Jagger, what are you doing this close to shore?” I laughed and reached out to touch his rubbery skin.

  Jagger kept swimming around me and nudging me playfully. Like before, I grabbed onto his dorsal fin and he dove beneath the waves. Holding on tight, he towed me along at a fast pace, the water streaming past me. I held on until my lungs began to burn, released my grip, and swam the few feet to the surface.

  Suddenly, I became aware the sun was setting, but I reasoned that playing with a dolphin was much more fun and rewarding than getting home on time. Gran would just have to wait and she could scold me as much as she wished. Right now, I was having the time of my life.

  Diving back down, Jagger was waiting for me and I grasped his dorsal fin once again. Gently, he moved beyond my reach and shook his head once. Confused, I stared at him. Talking back to me in a voice only a dolphin could recognize, I watched his movement to decide what he wanted. Swimming away a few feet, he’d return to me and speak once again. Thinking that maybe he wanted me to follow him, I did so. Jagger moved slowly, keeping pace with me as I followed him through the water.

  It wasn’t long before I encountered his pod. Instantly, I was surrounded by over ten dolphins all wanting to play and inspect me. Nudges and squeaks came from every direction. I reached out in opposite directions with each hand, touching two different dolphins. I don’t know
if it was my imagination or not, but they seemed to lean in at my touch. Grinning, I rubbed their bellies and scratched underneath the chin of one of them that kept looking like he was going to head-butt me. After that, he seemed satisfied and was content to let the others come close to socialize.

  The last time I surfaced, the sky had already transitioned to a hazy indigo with streaks of purples and pinks. The sun hung low, well past halfway down the horizon. I needed to return to the beach.

  Jagger surfaced and came alongside me, offering his dorsal fin. Gratefully, I grasped it and he took off, but this time, he stayed at the surface. I felt like a speedboat cutting through the waves on Jagger’s back. There was no hiding my delight at my evening with the dolphins. I had no idea how I would keep my grin from Gran when I returned tonight.

  Jagger led me as far into the shallows as he could, squeaked a goodbye, but continued watching me. With a sweet smile, I waved back at him. For a moment, he disappeared, and then I saw his gray body skyrocket nearly eight feet into the air, complete a somersault, and land with perfect form back into the ocean.

  Chapter 14

  Stumbling exhaustedly through the sand towards the fence, I couldn’t help thinking about the incredible day I’d had. Swimming with Jagger and his pod would be something I’d remember for the rest of my life.

  Gazing back towards the ocean, I realized that the sun was darkening ever more toward twilight, which caused me to quicken my tired feet. Reaching the fence, I let out a huge sigh of relief as my legs wobbled with weariness beneath me. Just as I was about to drop down to wriggle my way through the rabbit hole, something flashed out of my peripheral vision.

  Immediately, I fell to the ground and cowered as low as I possibly could. A police car with flashing lights was flying down the road, the red and blue alternating lights so bright they nearly lit up the road for several feet in each direction. If I hadn’t dropped down, I would have been in the sight of those lights. I found comfort in the fact they were flashing. That meant the police were headed somewhere and probably too preoccupied to notice my bike hidden partially behind the bushes near the rift in the fence.

  The sirens faded, alerting me to their distance away from me. My absolute dread began to decrease. I started breathing again and quickly made my way under the fence and to my bike. I wasn’t going to wait around for them to come back in this direction and notice me.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  I froze.

  The cop car was gone, so who could be this person talking to me? I slowly turned around, both my hands still on the handlebars of my bicycle, ready to throw my leg over at any second and ride away from the male voice. “I was only bike riding and stopped to take a break to watch the beautiful setting sun over the ocean.”

  The man looked at me with disbelieving hickory eyes, and thick, slicked-back mocha hair. He wore an outfit that seemed way out of place for this time period and weather. The caramel-colored leather jacket reminded me of pictures I’d seen in history books. The plaid, green shirt and black pants shattered the vintage-style ensemble that he seemed to start with, replacing it with just a plain old and ugly outfit.

  “I didn’t notice you before. It’s like you appeared out of nowhere.” His gaze drifted out to the ocean, and then gradually made their way back to me.

  I didn’t say anything. I just kept staring back at him, trying not to show any fear. If this had been Chicago, I would have merely kept going and not looked back. Then again, I wouldn’t have been doing something illegal either.

  “Where are your parents?”

  “I’m not here with them. I also don’t have any obligation to answer your questions, since you’re a complete stranger. If you don’t mind, I’ll be going.” I allowed my bike to lean against my waist so I could fold my arms in an attempt to appear feistier than I felt at the moment.

  “Wait,” he took a step forward and held up a hand, indicating for me to halt. “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself. My name is Daniel Warren. I’m a private investigator working with the police department here. A young couple went missing last night and we’ve been out here searching for them. Have you seen anyone around here? Wait,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out an omniphone, “this is what they look like.” He held it up and pressed a button.

  Within less than a second, a hologram of a couple who appeared to be in their mid-twenties projected in front of me. The woman stood with her right arm linked with the man on her right. Short honey-colored hair cut into a pixie style just barely hung down across her large forehead to reach the eerie gray deep-set eyes. She wore a white tank top and jeans that reached down to her ankles. The man next to her had short cut brown hair with eyes to match. His clothing choice was similar to the woman’s, which was a blue sleeveless top and long jeans. Each grinned as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen anyone like that around here. I need to go home. My grandmother is waiting for me.” I threw my leg over my bike, my conscience was screaming at me to get out of there…that something wasn’t right with this guy. Lately, I’d tossed the small voice of my conscience aside, but this time, I was prepared to listen to it.

  “Hold on a minute.” He handed me a business card quickly. “Call me if you see the couple or hear anything about it.”

  “Okay,” I answered curtly and began to swiftly pedal away.

  I don’t know what it was, but something about that guy didn’t set right with me. I was going to have to be more careful with my visits to the restricted beach.

  . . .

  “Alexandria? Dear?”

  “Huh?” I forgot about playing with my peas instead of eating them for a second and looked up at Gran.

  “Did you get a chance to ask your friend about what time would be best to meet his parents so I can ask their permission to take their child to San Francisco?” Gran scraped the remaining mashed potatoes on her plate into a pile, scooped them up and spooned them into her mouth.

  “Oh, no, I forgot to ask today.” I put my fork down and glanced up again as Gran went to get up and take her plate to the sink.

  “Well, you better hurry up and get the courage to ask them. It’s only a few days before the weekend and I need to meet them before then.”

  “Um, Gran?”

  Gran tugged down the handle of the dishwasher which always seemed to stick, then pulled the bottom rack out as she replied, “Yes?”

  “Have you heard anything about anyone around here going missing last night?”

  Gran shook her head, looking at me with a puzzled face at the absurdity of my question. “No, I haven’t heard anything about that. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, a man claiming to be a private detective came up to me, told me about it and asked me to call him if I see them.” I reached into the pocket of my shorts and pulled out the business card to show Gran. “He even gave me a business card.”

  Gran’s eyebrows furrowed as she walked up to me. “That is interesting. I thought the idea of business cards went out long ago…along with paper. Everyone just adds a link to their HoloNet business profile. Besides, people don’t go missing around here. We haven’t had a case of kidnapping, murder, larceny, or any serious crime for that matter in well over fifty years.”

  “I know; that’s what bothers me. Sunnyville isn’t Chicago…things like that don’t happen here. When he gave me his business card, I wouldn’t have known what it was if he hadn’t explained it.”

  “Hmm.” Gran continued to study the card. I could see her chestnut eyes moving back and forth across the small piece of paper in her hands.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It is weird. I have never seen or heard of this person before.” Gran’s eyes turned worried. “Where did this man approach you?”

  “I was downtown riding my bike back from my friend’s house when I stopped for a break and he approached me.”

  “Alexandria, if you see this man again, do not stop. I’ve liv
ed here for well over forty years and I’ve never seen or heard of this man, so clearly, he is a stranger. You know how dangerous strangers are in this world. Stay away from anyone that you don’t know, and don’t make any more stops on your way to or from your friend’s house unless you are with your friend or their parents…do you understand?”

  “Yes, Gran, I understand.”

  Gran nodded definitively. “Good, now finish each one of those peas before you get up to do anything else.”

  Ugh! She’d gotten me. The distraction technique was not going to work in skipping my vegetables this time.

  However, what she said about the man I ran into tonight started to worry me. Something was going amiss in this town, and I had no idea as to what. Perhaps the government was on to me going to the restricted beach and had sent this private investigator to spy on me. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be carted away for trespassing on government property. Even more so, I hoped that the so-called “private investigator” hadn’t seen me with Dylan.

  But wait.

  Maybe this man was somehow connected to Dylan’s people. Was this man here to keep me from ever getting to Oceania again? Would I be barred from seeing my friend or visiting the enchanting underwater city ever again?

  Chapter 15

  Peering in every direction, I checked for any human or drone in the vicinity that could be watching me. Confident that I was alone, I shoved my bike behind some low lying bushes bunched together off the side of the road. Stepping back a few feet, I checked from either side to see if it could be easily seen from the road—it couldn’t.

  Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my omniphone and brought up the music interface. Typing in the pop genre, a playlist was created based directly on my tastes. Still holding the omniphone, I reached into my other pocket for the wireless earbuds, and gently placed them into each ear. The music began to play, so I didn’t need to hold the omniphone anymore; the sync was complete. Holding the omniphone an inch from my triceps, it magnetically attached to the armband holder.