Ocean Tales: A Star in the Sea

The wind whistled in your face and the moon glistened with the water’s ripples as we looked below from the boardwalk. Our water veins were connected in a mirage, as we were not physically connected, but entwined by fate. Our arms crawled along the boardwalk of isolation. We gasped for oxygen, once we found out we couldn't be together. The harsh circumstances made it so that we were physically drying out with the absence of water. The tingles on our wafer feet made our insides uneasy. The combination of the tingles and the wind made it so we were comforted and nervous at the same time. The moment of release was coming. But before it beckoned towards us. I must share these stories with you to have them engraved in one’s memory. 

I am a comet starfish who will recount the tales of the ocean with you. This will be my last memory. I have watched from a distance as a star on a rock, unnoticeable. I tend to think of myself as the sea’s version of a wallflower. Or the sea’s version of a glimmering star in the sky. But these thoughts are to celebrate the stories that made me think so fondly of you. You always sat beside me and we'd watch the sea-folk pair up. 

Remember the time we saw those two green sea turtles? They looked stunning in the aquamarine light. The way they tilted their heads at the right time to gaze at each other. One could swim and dodge past obstacles, while the other swam so fast that its strength could withstand the pressure of a riptide. They swam together, touching each other’s flippers as they approached the waves. I had a hypothesis that one had good eyesight, and the other had strong flippers. You had thought it wasn’t necessary to have a partner, while I thought they were made for each other. We overheard them talking. 

Each morning when the two turtles would catch the fish for their seven o’clock snack, The male green sea turtle crooned, “Maria, tell me I’m going the right way. Only your eyes know which direction to go.” 

Maria would always answer with the same response, “River, you overthink things. You’re strong enough to sail through the currents.” As they bobbled against the waves. 

These two were lucky to be here. I wondered if they knew their origin? Did they know how they were here today? 

I told you the story of how their race survived. A story from ancient times, The Mermaid in the Eternal Night. It was spoken to me by the whisper in the waves, too long ago for me to remember the waves' voice. You wiggled your feet in glee, as you let the sea currents jiggle your outer layers. I thought you were happy that the green sea turtles survived from extinction as you made a joke out of it and said, "Whoever is last in the sea, has a lot of pressure coming onto them. So much pressure, like the bottom of the ocean." 

I wondered if the shallowness of my thought, scraped the outsides of your mind, and made you think any deeper about relationships? Were we missing out on the riches of life? It didn't matter if we were the last starfish in the sea, not that we were. We could separate ourselves and be reborn again, and that meant to separate from each other, as we were not in the right bodies at the right time. 

I softly spoke, “It would be lonely at the bottom of it all, sea-folk would never find each other to begin with.” 

You said something like, “there’s plenty of sea-folk down there. I’m sure there’s enough fish in the ocean.” 

As you said that, Maria caught a fish in her mouth. Her excellent eyes must have seen the gleam in the light, reflecting off the fish. Once she ate it, River came torrenting like a torpedo towards the other school of fish and bit at one. It slipped from his mouth, but he caught it with a snap of his jaw. 

Then you continued as you rubbed the sides of your lower arms with your upper arms in response to the tickle of the wind and sea’s current, “It’s better to be alone, than to worry about the challenges of being around sea-folk. That pressure could help you unlock something we haven’t seen before. Maybe a hidden talent of yours, you know? Like Sea-folk watching.” 

I pondered over what you had said and heard a seagull's call. Slightly displacing the calmness of my thoughts, into a shaky wreck. I looked above and saw the silhouette of a bird flying above us. Its limbs stretched out, basking in the warmth of the sun. So free as the waves that take one to another side of the world. If I were to separate, where would the waves take me? Where would I end up being whisked away to? 

As I saw the bird fly East to West, ready for the warmer months, I knew my time was running out too. In a way, we were already at the bottom of Earth and bottom of the ocean. Dwindling down to our final years. 

It was at the moment. I realised that you weren’t happy that the green sea turtles survived extinction, but you had acknowledged your final stage in life was a joke. With surmounting to nothing, not even having a partner to pair up with to remember your legacy, like the green sea turtles. No stories of you will be recorded, except for the one that I’m telling now. As our memories will depart from my mind, once I separate myself. 

At the time, I thought about whether I would continue to hold onto the memories, or let them go? The green sea turtle that we watched made it clear that your carefree attitude let you become comfortable with being alone for eternity as it wasn’t natural for starfish to pair up. 

Then there was another instance. The giants of the ocean. Do you remember the giants? The ones that made us value laughter in our lives? I remember during one moon-tide, there were two whale sharks. They swam in harmony with each other, each following the other’s tail. The water immersed the two giants like they were woven in silk. Each splash glowed from their bodies like a thread caught in the moonlight’s crepuscular rays. It was as if they were creating a tapestry of the sea, where they were creating art that was instilled in the ages. Like traditions being passed on like stories being told once again. You could tell that they were making a dance in the darkness. You called them, “The Playful Pair!” The ones that gave each other belly rubs. 

I said, “They’re a bit like us. Can’t get enough of following each other,” with my eyes glued to their performance. It was true. Ever since sharing the story of the Mermaid in the Eternal Night, you wanted to know more stories. But I told you that it was the only story I knew. 

You said something like, “How did you know about that story then?” Eager for me to feed you with more tales about the ocean. 

I said in a voice of mystique, “By being alone, at the bottom of the ocean. A silent observer. A star in the sea. Maybe I was meant to belong in the sky, instead of the sea, as my species name suggests.” I replied nonchalantly. It was true, being a starfish, I could see the sea-folk’s daily routines. None of them noticed me. All the times they had their play dates, all the times they had their meals, all the times when they came back home. I could see it all. 

The whale sharks began turning in the sea. The gentle swish of the waves wobbled on our skins each time they did a somersault. Could they see us, silently watching their show? In the middle of all the somersaults, they would laugh and rub each other’s bellies, giving each other tickles. When you said urgently, “Aren’t you tired?” It was then, I noticed that you liked the stories, but didn’t like diving down to the bottom to explore them deeper. 

The moon’s light reflected on the waves, as the white globe shone its magnificence. I wondered how many stories it possessed. I pleaded for it to whisper to me the stories of more sea-folk, but it gave no response. I only heard a whisper of the waves say, “The moon shares the same stories as you.” 

The sea giants had their own body language that they communicate in. I saw that pairing up was a fun process. Getting free laughs from being tickled seemed like an equal exchange of spending the rest of one’s life together. 

Your voice billowed over the laughs, “I’ve got the wind to tickle my outsides. Don’t need anyone else to tickle me.” Your thoughts were forced humour. You were putting on a guard of stoic determination, that being alone was better than pairing up. What I learnt was that in those small moments of humour, we were exchanging our small instances of tickles. Except through talking. 

Thinking back on it now, I can say that small instances of laughs were enough for me. We didn’t need a dance performance and tickles to laugh. That was when I realized that these moments in time will be reformed again, once we separate from each other and ourselves. 

So, before the culmination of all my memories dissipates. I’d like to share my last memory with you. It was with the seahorses. 

Now it's time for the story about the seahorses. You were still next to me, admiring how their small wings flapped in the water. Their small fins made close to no sound as they glided up, out and down. 

The male seahorse said to the female seahorse, "We're lucky we made it home from pilgrimage. What could I have done if it wasn't for my strong fins." 

The female was exuberant and said, "Yes, Yes. The waterfall that never ends is like a kaleidoscope to our ancestors and future kids." She put her face to the male seahorse's belly and said. "We're naming you little ones already, thanks to our journey." 

"That tip from the plankton was surely a weird one. Do you remember it?" The male seahorse poked his head to face the female seahorse. 

The female seahorse said gently, “If we could poke our heads from above the water, then I’m sure it would work.” 

The male seahorse rebutted to the onslaught of what the plankton had said to them earlier, “Even if we could do that, we wouldn’t have the eye sight to see that far up to the sky. I’m just glad that I can feel the waves to guide me on where I want to go, not some celestial stars in the sky.” 

The female tried to defend the plankton, “The plankton said he heard from the green sea turtle, who had heard from the whale. Those names of the stars they use to navigate, I remembered, Castor and Pollux. Are they good names for our children?” 

The male seahorse interjected, “No, no. It’s obligatory to name our children from what we heard at the waterfall, on our pilgrimage.” 

The two seahorses talked about what they will name their children, you zoned out for a while, but then you became more engrossed as they had another story to tell. The one of Castor and Pollux. I was jealous of the female seahorse because she could share a story that I couldn’t. 

The male seahorse continued, “Why would you want our children to be named after Castor and Pollux?”

She explained, “Because their story shows how loyalty should be expressed. Two brothers were on the pathway to an eternal life. One brother was murdered in battle, while the other pleaded with Zeus for immortality. Zeus granted the wish for both brothers to spend their lives in the underworld and Olympus. We see the two brother’s light shining up there. The Gemini constellation.” 

I whispered,“That was one story, I’m sure in another life, I would have known about it and told you. As I’m likened to a comet, so I belong up there with Castor and Pollux.” 

You gave a small giggle, “Hehehe, I wonder where we’ll wash up in our next lives? I can feel that the tides are changing and I’m living in other sea-folk’s fins. It’s like I’m not myself anymore.” 

The male seahorse turned his back to the female seahorse, “Loyalty you say? What about loyalty to the endless waterfall? Like you said, it’s a kaleidoscope to our ancestors and future kids.” 

The male seahorse kept bickering, “You only think of yourself, what would you know about loyalty?” 

“Hear that?” You said with enthusiasm, “We’re pretty lucky not having to worry about a partner. We don’t need to breed. All we need to do is separate from ourselves.”

I thought for a moment, “Separating, hey. Do.. Do you want to walk with me to the boardwalk?” I said to you.“ 

You hollered at me, “Yeah, right.” 

As we walked on the boardwalk to our final moments together, our water veins connected only in a mirage. I said, “The seahorse will never unlock the capacity to navigate using the stars, so a starfish, like me, will never find a partner. I want to stay loyal to my design, loyal like the two brothers, Castor and Pollux so I must let go of these memories and start anew.”

“It is time.” You said, as the wind whistled in our faces. 

As I spoke we met the edge of the boardwalk and we fell into the ocean as I separated. My arms began to fall from my torso, slowly tearing away from me. I took a glimpse of the sky, seeing the Gemini constellation twinkling at me. 

I could hear you screaming, “Woohooo, goodbye cruel world!” I took a final glimpse in the sky, watching the Gemini constellation saluting their farewells. Then I felt the sudden splash of the water engulf me, as the tides carried me to another destination. The coldness wrapped me tightly, as if a baby were being wrapped in a blanket. 

Like my name suggests, I’m fleeting, and transient, a comet who belongs in the stories of the constellations. As I am the master of stories, I will soon be reborn. I’ll absorb stories in my next life and I’ll be here, sharing stories with you again.