ESTUARIES/TRIBUTARIES/GULFS

(a triptych)

Part One:

The first time Ralph stood toe to toe with a body of water that stretched further than he could see, he was seven: Aberconwy Bay, Llanfairfechan, Wales. Aberconwy Bay opened up into the Irish Sea. By comparison, the Irish Sea was a small sea. At seven, small sea was contradictory. Ralph, at seven, was very much at an age where he was still the standard unit of measure of things in the world. At seven, the Irish Sea was immense.

His father was teaching summer session at Oxford University. It was the first time the family had been overseas. The entire time they were there, they kept turning around on their own axis: a low flying solar system, Ralph's father always standing in the middle, always the source of gravity they returned to.

The Irish Sea's a nook in between the west coast of England and the east coast of Ireland. Wales, and The Myrtlewood Hotel where his family was staying during his dad's "holiday" from teaching, both stood right on the coast.

At low tide, the sea would retreat so far from the beach that he could not see it. It vanished behind Puffin Island, which stood a mile off the shore. He had heard of high and low tide but he had never witnessed either. He looked up into the sky for the moon and lifted his arms. "Take me, too," he whispered.

At high tide, the water covered the beach, crossed the boardwalk, and came right up to and sloshed against the low wall on the side of the road. From the window of his room in the hotel, he watched the waves lean their shoulders into the wall until the sun went down. He fell alseep at the window, listening to the water rocking back and forth, wondering if he too would be dragged off to sea.

The next day, they all went for a walk along the beach. There were jelly fish everywhere. He wanted to touch them, to step on them, to poke his finger through them. He ran from fish to fish, looking down through the clear flesh, his father's voice nestled deeply in his ear. "Don't touch them, son. Don't ever touch them."

Early the next day, Ralph crossed the road and ran to the beach. The fish were gone. He walked out into the wet sand and stopped just at the rim of the water. He looked out over the sea. They were out there now. All of them were out there.