T. A. Chase

Poetry Train…

We stand at the edge of the sand where the waves pound the shore. I drop our towels in a pile next to the backpack, pulling out my camera. Devon’s not paying attention to me. His attention is all for the true love of his life. The huge rolling waves capped with white foam that have made this beach a Mecca for surfers all around the world. I stare at him through the camera lenses. Tall. Broad shouldered. Lean hipped. Bubble butt. A beautiful perfect specimen of a surfer. Devon turns to grin at me and I snap a picture.

I bury my toes in the sand, snapping pictures as he paddles out beyond the breakers. A huge wave rolls in and he stands, weaving and bobbing as the water undulates under him. Without looking, I reach down and adjust my hard on. Watching him turns me on. There is pure awe in seeing a creature do what it is born to do. Devon’s made for the water and seems most alive while he’s riding the ocean. His dark brown honey streaked hair dances on the salty breeze and I smile. He is the only surfer on the water this morning.

Someone stops next to me. I glance over at the skinny kid and then back to where Devon is heading back out.

“Hey mate, there’s sharks out there, ya know.”

I grunt and roll my eyes. Of course there are sharks out there. It’s Australia and sharks thrive in the waters off shore. Everyone who lives on the beach knows that.

“Guy stopped by yesterday. Said there were two big ones spotted at this beach a few days ago.”

I nod.

“You might want to let him know.”

I nod, but it won’t make any difference. Devon doesn’t fear the shark.

“Mate, did ya hear me?”

I gesture to where Devon rides the next wave in. “Do you really think he’s coming in until the surf dies down?”

The kid shrugged and then shook his head. “Aren’t ya worried about them?”

“They’re always around. Swim with them and you won’t fear them.” I pick the camera up, snapping more pictures of Devon.

He waves to me and through my zoom lenses I see the brilliant smile on his face. Happiness gleams in his bright green eyes like we’ve just had sex. I shift on the sand, looking forward to going home and helping him wash all that salt water off.

A movement behind Devon catches my eye and I focus my attention to the water. Shivers track down my spine as a dark dorsal fin pokes through the blue liquid. Even from the distance I’m at, I recognize the shape. Carcharodon carcharias. A great white shark swims a few feet behind my love.

“Fuck. A shark.” The kid waves his arms, trying to catch Devon’s attention.

“He can’t hear you, mate.” I stand and move towards the edge of the water, sand warming beneath my feet.

Devon frowns when he spots me so close to the water. He knows I shouldn’t be getting my bandage wet. I hold my hands in the air, signing to him about the shark.

The kid starts to run past me and I grab his arm, jerking him back onto the beach with me. “Dumb ass, he sees them.”

Devon turns around, spots the shark and nods to me. He takes his time, swimming slowly towards the shore. There are two sharks shadowing him, but as he gets closer to shore, they peel off and swim back out to the deep. He slides off his board, splashing up to me and kissing me hard.

“You didn’t get your bandage wet, did you, love?” He ignores the kid standing next to us.

“I didn’t. How big were they?” I’m eager to hear what he says.

“The biggest was probably the same size that nailed you.” Devon nods at my leg.

“You got bit by a shark?” The kid stares at me in shock.

I grimace. It isn’t a story I’m happy to relate. “It was my own damn fault. I knew better, but no, I had to go for the shot. A twenty foot great white came up to grab the bait we had resting in the water. I leaned forward, slipped and she nailed my leg. I’m lucky it wasn’t a straight on bite or she would have taken my leg off.”

“What the hell kind of sightseeing trip were you on?”

Devon and I laugh. “I’m an underwater photographer.”

Devon unzips his bodysuit, stripping to his waist. His ripped stomach draws my hand and I trail a finger down over his chest, following a drop of water. His tattoo is inked diagonally from his right nipple across his chest to wrap around his waist. He captures my hand and brings it to his lips for a quick kiss.

“You like sharks, mate?”

We’d forgotten about the kid. I grin at Devon and glance down at the tattoo. It is the perfect representation of a great white taken from a picture I’d captured off the coast of Guadalupe Island.

The kid walks away, shaking his head and mumbling about crazy people. I’m glad that he’s left before realizing who Devon is. No need to blow my love’s cover. Most people recognize Devon Starling, but no one except me knows he’s into men, not women.

“I want to go back out,” he pouts.

I trace his lips and he sucks the tip of one into his warm moist mouth. I moan a little, feeling the lick of his tongue over the pad of my finger.

“There’s water back at home we can play in without worrying about sharks.” I wink.

Devon grins, but his eyes stray back to the waves. He’s been in Europe for the last four months, shooting a movie. No surfing there. As much as he loves me, it’s the beach that calls him home. Sighing, I give him a little push back towards the water.

“Go on,” I tell him, checking my watch. “You have another hour or so before I have to be back at the house.”

He gives me another hard kiss. “Thanks, love.” Turning, he dashes out into the rolling water, surfboard clasped to his side.

“Keep an eye on those sharks, Devon.” I gesture out to where I know those fish lurk just beyond the breakers.

He waves back at me in acknowledgment. The kid thinks we’re crazy because we don’t fear sharks, but it’s hard to explain to a stranger. Sharks don’t bother us. Devon’s surfed all the big wave spots throughout the world. Most of those spots are haunted by sharks. He’s had close encounters with hundreds for them over the years. Not one has tried to attack him.

I’ve swum with all the large shark species. All those deemed man-eaters and could kill me with one bite. I swim protected by a cage or out in the deep water without any protection. Except for this most recent incident, I’ve never been bitten either. The sharks come to us, but not to bite or eat. They come to acknowledge us. To accept us into their domain. I’ve never felt fear when I’m around them.

It might have something to do with the strange dreams Devon and I share. Even when we are half a world away from each other, we share dreams of swimming in the dark water, but we aren’t human. We are something else. We are sharks.

Monday, August 6th, 2007, by , Filed under: Excerpts,Eye Candy,Poetry Train| | 17 Comments