The Best of Fish Worlds

Chapter Nine

Hannah and the fishman didn't have a care in the world. They sat next to each other in a tiny rowboat floating in the middle of the fishman's pond. The golf course was dark except for the reflection on the pond's surface of thousands of gleaming stars in the night sky above. What seemed like ten million fireflies danced in the surrounding air, their sporadic glow soft and comforting.

Hannah and the fishman wrenched their gazes from each other and looked up at the stars. They were so beautiful. The fishman marveled in wonder at the sparkling orbs. He thought they looked like a billion shining golf balls. For once in his life, the fishman felt at peace. He turned to Hannah and smiled. "Did you see that?" he asked her.

Hannah was puzzled. "Did I see whom?" she queried.

The fishman grinned and pointed with one slender blue hand to a cluster of stars directly overhead. "That constellation is amphibia major," he informed her.

Hannah gasped. The stars were in the shape of a giant heart! "Oh boy!" She gasped. Hannah was touched. She could feel tears starting to well up in her fragile eyes. "That constellation reminds me of us, and our love," she whispered.

The fishman blushed. He was quiet for a fleeting moment, then offered a timid response. "You always know exactly what to say," he sighed. They embraced. They stayed there for what felt like an eternity, arms wrapped around each other like boa constrictors.

Hannah opened her eyes and stared longingly at the fishman. There was something she knew she had to say, something she couldn't keep to herself any longer. "I can't believe how happy you make me," she uddered.

Without skipping a beat, the fishman replied, "Y'know... I could say the same thing about you."

Hearing that made Hannah swoon. It was like she was falling in love with the fishman all over again. She held back her wispy hair and leaned in closer. "Can I tell you something?" she breathed quietly.

The fishman took her hand in his. "You can always tell me something," he breathed.

That made Hannah even more wowed. The fishman was so romantic sometimes that she could barely believe it. Hannah blushed. "Well," she began, "during my last concert, when I was singing He Could Be The One to millions of fans, I was thinking about you." Hannah expected that to make him blush, because he seemed to blush a lot, but the fishman didn't blush. Instead, his eyes widened and he pulled back, turning to face away from her.

Hannah didn't understand. She could see tears glistening on his rosy cheeks. What could have distressed him so? She made an impassioned plea to him. "What's wrong?" She cried. The fishman just shook his head despondently, and Hannah continued to berate him for an explanation of his woes. "Just tell me what it is! You can tell me anything, even the bad things. That's part of what being in love is about, going through both the good and the bad, but it's okay because we deal with all of it together!"

Hannah's words of wisdom seemed to calm the fishman slightly, and he told her what was going on "It's just.... It's just that you deserve so much better than me," he stammered, his voice trembling like a sine wave. "You're a pop icon and I'm... nothing more than a hot mess express."

Hannah couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could the fishman, the perfect boyfriend, the embodiment of all that is good and pure, say that? "What do you mean?" she protested. "How could you possibly say that?"

The fishman, eyes downcast, offered little in response. He just mumbled and all that Hannah could make out was something about a secret underground lab in the 1980s. He turned back towards her. "Hannah...I'm just a lowly fishman. You can find someone for you that's so much better than me, someone with better pecs and better knees."

Hannah couldn't believe his nerve. "That's not true!" she cried. "Your pecs shine like scintillating diamonds, and I'd never leave you. I'm in love with you and- and I want to be with you forever"

The fishman grinned. "Do you really think so?" he implored.

"I really do," quoth Hannah. She had never been more sure of anything in her whole life. Suddenly, Hannah had an epiphany. "Sweet niblets!" she screeched. "I just remembered that I have to go on tour in like a fortnight!" How could she have forgotten? Hannah would be travelling the world, going as far as Moscow (she's popular all over the world because she's a pop icon) doing sold out concerts. "So," she mused quietly, "what does that mean for us?"

The fishman could tell that this was really tearing her apart. The last thing Hannah wanted was to be away from her beloved for even a second. No, an extended absence would be too much to bear.

The fishman picked Hannah up in his big strong arms and began to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. "No matter what happens, no matter what comes between us, we will make it work," he whispered. He paused for a moment and let the magnificence of the night wash over them. All around, fireflies continued their chaotic flight, and the plethora of dazzling stars remained stationary in the sky, their inexorable presence like a bastion of hope. "I know that you're worth it," he confessed.

Hannah smiled and closed her eyes. She felt safe in his arms. It reminded her of when she was in the womb. It was a simpler time then. She didn't have to worry about fish boyfriends or the perils of fame or a crippling fear of golf balls. She expressed this inner truth to the fishman, who couldn't help but agree.

Hannah and the fishman stared up at the stars together. The celestial bodies were curvaceous and beautiful. The rowboat rocked gently, and Hannah was further reminded of the womb. The fishman, thoughtful as ever, pulled Hannah close to keep her from falling. They stared deep into each other's eyes for five minutes.

Wordlessly, Hannah leaned in and kissed him tenderly. It felt wonderful, like being struck by lightning. She had been waiting her whole life for this moment. She closed her eyes, put her arms around the fishman, and rested her head on his gossamer chest. She heard the beat of his heartbeat, wide as the ocean.