Short Stories

Beneath the Blue

She doesn't want to swim again.

She's shivering in the cramped hallway, dreading the cold. The wet-suit chafes against her skin and it irritates the rashes on her arms and legs.

She readjusts the mask over her face, checks her oxygen tank.

Come on, Caitlin, she thinks, sucking in a breath. Just one week left.

The job advertisements made this gig sound a lot more exciting.

Scuba dive in exotic locales!  they read. Help maintain underwater ecosystems!  Experience life in the big blue sea!

Astrid, her manager, repeated these mantras with a pearly white smile. "You'll be a part of something big. This place? It's going to revolutionize the world."

Behind the glass doors, lights glimmer through the murky water.

I don't get paid enough for this, Caitlin thinks, and steps through the door. Immediately she's submerged in cold, slimy water.

From far off, she can see the glowing sign. ROYAL BLUE: THE WORLD'S GREATEST UNDERWATER HOTEL! it proclaims enthusiastically.

Caitlin watches the bubbles floating up as she swims. A thin blue shaft of light from her gear illuminates her path.

A dead fish floats through the water towards her. She grabs it, the rough microfiber gloves keeping it from slipping through her hands, and bags it.

Next, she digs out crumpled soda cans half-buried in the sand.

Caitlin's always wanted to be part of something important. Something big, like Astrid always liked to emphasize.

But Astrid failed to mention that the hotel is going bankrupt. The glossy cerulean advertisements lie, and no one wants to travel a hundred feet below the surface to see an ocean choking in debris. No matter how many maintenance workers they hire to pick up the trash around the hotel.

She collects more plastic into her bag. It's everywhere, clogging up the sand, the water, snagged on coral reefs, caught in animals' throats.

She can't even eat the fish here; they're "too contaminated." She's been eating nutritional algae instead.

Caitlin's down there until she runs out the clock, until she's done taking out the trash. The oceans are dying: Everyone knows it, and it's only a matter of time.

She's so wrapped up in herself she doesn't notice the squid until it's right in front of her. Long legs propel it through the water, red skin glimmering through the dark.

Its eyes meet hers as it drifts past. Caitlin only stares, a plastic bag slipping from her gloves. Her breath catches.

The squid darts away. She's left alone.

She feels everything pressing in on her chest. Scraps of plastic float past her.

She fumbles with her gear. She hasn't used the underwater camera hooked to her belt yet, and now she points it into the gloom, shining a light on the garbage suspended in the water.

She can't change much. She can't even stop drifting from job to job. But there's so much down here that's worth preserving-- maybe the world should see what's happening.

She snaps a picture.