I lay on the ground numbed by the adrenaline, staring at the unbelievable height from which Zel and I had jumped and fallen. Zel turned and placed her hand on my face like she was checking for a specific type of fever. Satisfied that I would be all right, she began untying my feet.
“If we’re going to do this we have to reach the Meridian
“We’re alive Zel,” I mentioned, halfway stunned that she hadn’t noticed.
“Do you think you can walk?” she asked me reaching out her hands to help me to my feet.
“I can walk,” I said, stumbling slightly over the feeling of glee I had. “I’m very good at walking.”
Zel brushed my clothes off while she spoke, and I heard most of what she was saying, although some of it was lost in the magnificence of the top of the burning tower and our miraculous plummet. It must have been a few thousand feet.
“Are you sure you’re okay,” she asked me with a sweet concern on her unblemished face.
I absentmindedly bit my lower lip. “Mm-hmm.”
“I think we need to get some juice in you.”
Juice? Yes, of course. That was at the top of my list of what I wanted right then.
“Zel, did I say ‘thank you’ for rescuing me?”
“There’s no need,” she assured me, and turned to look for a tree with melons, stopping only because I had hooked my index finger into her shirt collar.
I pulled her back to face me and took a moment to adore those beautiful green eyes. Ordinarily I would have made a wisecrack, but fortunately none came to me to ruin the moment with her.
With my Zel.
One very special moment that I would never forget.
How do you capture a first kiss in words?
It’s the ocean tide licking your ankles with its cool foam, sweeping back and forth, pushing you back just so it can pull you closer; teasing you; soothing you; dancing with you; the surface rising until it engulfs your knees, your thighs, your hips; delicately recoiling before the rush; embracing you completely with a blanket of purity that you never want to leave.
It feels like a promise.
The melody of a mermaid.
Why wouldn’t a man be captivated by the sea, vast and endless with its mysteries and treasures and horrors and defiance of ever being conquered?
And why wouldn’t the soul of the sea manifest into the form of a lady, beckoning him to join her in the world below?
After all, she knows more than he, and he knows that to join her is to gamble with his life. Tales are told of men plunging into their deaths. And surely she knows the tales as well. And she still offers the invitation.
So it amounts to a simple question. Does he trust her? Does he row back to the shore to feel safe and alone, or does he leave his vessel with the confidence that the tales of death are only told by those who have chosen not to trust?
That’s a first kiss. Knowing that you’re swimming towards beautiful terrifying depths but you’ll see the journey all the way through to whatever destination it leads you.
My Zel.
It’s funny how I never figured out if I was the man or the mermaid.
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