Final Frontier

A crown of kelp emerges from the murky waves. Two feet make landfall upon the cool, packed sand, pruned skin sinking in and leaving deep imprints. Lane runs a hand through his hair, picking off green tendrils and tossing them backward where they slip through the water with a light plop. Laughter floats towards him from the distance, his friends still gathered around the bonfire. The warmth and promise of camaraderie are tempting, but the ocean wind knocking against his back is stronger, chastising him for straying from his promise.

He spares one final glance towards the flames before sharply turning and padding off in the opposite direction. He’s left his clothes and towel by the fire, and now a cool breeze bites at his skin, sharpening the saltwater droplets that cling to him into pinpricks. He shivers but makes no move to rectify the situation. A rightful punishment, he supposes, for his crime.

As he walks, he keeps his eyes staunchly fixed on the grains of sand beneath his feet. He takes up the tedious task of counting them to keep his mind occupied before it could wander elsewhere. As if sensing his impertinence, his traitorous mind deposits a memory into consciousness.

_

Lane tugs Adam forwards as the pair tears across the boardwalk and descends upon the sandy beach. They stop a few meters from the shoreline, observing how far the waves come in before settling in at the point where the water lightly drifts over their feet.

Lane immediately drops down and sets his hands on the sand, waiting for the water to rise up and meet them. Beside him, Adam copies his moves, a ritual that has taken place since the beginning of summer break. They sit, quiet, for a few moments, as the waves lap at their fingertips.

As always, Lane is first to break the silence. “The museum guys say they’ll show us their deep diving gear tomorrow.”  

“Mm,” comes Adam’s response. He withdraws his hands and plants them behind him, leaning his body back.

“Maybe we can convince them to let us try it on,” continues Lane, unperturbed by his friend’s disinterested reply. Later on, he’ll remember how hesitant Adam had been, his initial reluctance to follow him to the ocean, the paltry one-sided conversations, the upward glances and wistful sighs as his mind drifted to places further than Lane could ever reach.

But at this time, with adolescent blinders narrowing his view, he takes no note of his friend’s odd behavior. “They know we’re gonna be deep sea explorers one day. And-”

“Y’know,” Adam interrupts, “Those diving suits look a lot like astronaut suits.”

“Uhh… I guess.”

“I’ve been talking to my Uncle Miles’ friend. Y’know, the astronomer?” Adam does not wait for a reply before he continues, the words tumbling out urgently. “He’s been telling me about the International Space Station. They’re gonna be sending another module up there…”

Lane’s eyes glaze over. He doesn’t mean to check out; in fact, he enjoys listening to the lilting cadence of his friend’s words as he describes the newest topic of interest. It’s just the topic itself that doesn’t appeal to him.

“Mm,” he offers occasionally, mimicking his friend’s earlier reply.

“So what do you think?”

“About what?”

Adam huffs and crosses his arms. “Were you even listening?”

“Yeah, yeah, you were talking about astronauts?”

“Yes. What if…” he pauses, hesitant, “what if we became astronauts instead of divers? Either way, we’d be exploring the unknown, right?”

“I guess so,” Lane muses, face scrunching up in concentration, “but being in the ocean is completely different. There’s actually… stuff around you. In space there’s just…” He waves his arms helplessly and shrugs. “Well… space. It’s empty. The ocean is full of water and sea life. Space just has rocks.”

Adam bristles at his dismissive words. He shakes his head, then speaks slowly, as if to a child, “I don’t see it that way. Maybe you’re too close-minded to understand.”

“I just don’t want to be trapped in an empty void,” Lane retorts.

Adam shakes his head again, and something about his defiance tenses Lane's jaw. “It makes no difference if you’re in space or in the ocean. You’d still be trapped in a suit.”

“Whatever,” sighs Lane, growing irritated by the turn the conversation has taken. “Try space camp. That’s probably the closest you can get.”

Almost immediately Lane regrets his words, but he’s too prideful to take them back. Instead, he chooses to suffer through the simmering disdain now emanating from his friend.

“I’ll make it there someday,” Adam proclaims suddenly, his voice holding such strong conviction that Lane is momentarily stunned. He quickly regains his senses with a shake of his head.

“How?” he challenges. How indeed. There are no gaps for space exploration in their sea bound plans. No pathways that could take them in both directions, not enough time in their lives to travel to both ends. ‘How can you go without me?’ is the unspoken question.

It’s in the prolonged silence that Lane finds the answer. He’s right. There is no path to connect two opposite destinations; they can only diverge. Lane twists fully to look at Adam. His eyes are focused ahead, but not on the water. They’re travelling further, to the skyline, where the navy darkness of the ocean melds with the dull gray of the sky. Despite there being mere inches between their bodies, the distance seems to stretch beyond the horizon.

At last, mercifully, Adam reels his gaze back in and settles it on Lane’s face, calm yet resolute.

“You go down, I go up,” he states with a crooked grin. “And then we’ll meet in the middle.” He lifts his pinkie up between them. “Promise?”

Lane blinks once. It was his idea to explore the sea one day, Adam just pulled along for the ride without protest. He’s never seen his friend so determined before. When had he built himself a spine? A twinge of unfamiliar emotion stirs within him, and he isn’t sure if it’s jealousy or pride that’s driving his actions.

He can feel a current start to pull them apart. Determined not to be left behind, he jumps in. Slowly, he hooks his pinkie around Adam’s.

“Promise.”

_

It happens a mere week before Lane’s scheduled expedition to the Mariana Trench. The next day, Adam will board a ship headed for the ISS. Lane flies into the city especially for the occasion. How serendipitous it was to find out they’d be reaching their dreams almost simultaneously. He finds himself celebrating in a bar with Adam and his colleagues. As the night wears on, the two of them manage to meander into the only area with a view of the ocean, next to a guard rail separating the local street from the highway. From this view, the ocean is just a span of undulating darkness in the distance, but it is comfort enough for Lane.

“It’s strange,” Adam starts, turning to face Lane, “All my life, I’ve been waiting to get off the ground. At first, diving into the sea,” he says, voice softening.

‘With you’, are the unspoken words. Lane swallows.

“And then to space,” Adam continues, and Lane can’t stifle the strange sadness that blooms upon seeing Adam’s eyes brighten. “But now that it’s happening, I’m suddenly noticing all these details about life here on Earth. I think I miss it!” he laughs. He speaks as if he is already in the stars. In Lane’s mind, he’s been there for years.

Lane chuckles, a heavy sound devoid of mirth. “There’s a lot to appreciate down here.”

Somewhere between high school and college and astronaut training, Adam’s laid-back attitude has transformed into casual confidence. The sparks of passion that rarely made themselves known in his youth had evolved into a flame. At its height, Adam burned fiercely and indiscriminately, turning whatever came in his path to ash if the flames were not kept at bay. With time, flames died down to embers, warm enough to sustain the heat without the need to burn a path forward. Even now, the heart pulsating on his sleeve is unmistakable, borne open for all to see.

Lane, on the other hand, cannot find it in himself to pick apart the shell casing he’d constructed as child. With the years, it has weathered, but not a fragment is out of place. He holds affection close to his heart, a reward to be had only after persistent digging, not spilled out with the ease of one who may simply be pouring out a glass of water.

“Whatever it is you want.. I mean, the reason you want to go to space, uh –" The alcohol has loosened Lane’s tongue more than he would care to admit, but he’s already started this train wreck of a sentence and he’s determined to finish it. He pauses for a few moments, searching for words that could covey a sentiment he has little grasp on. At last, he settles for the simplest idea.

 “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Adam’s expression is intense as it searches Lane’s face. At length, it relaxes into something resembling fondness. “You too,” he murmurs. “Hey,” he coaxes gently, bringing up his pinkie, “Meet in the middle after all this?”

Lane glances away, attempting to hide the flush across his face as he quickly returns the gesture.  

Once more, without struggle, Lane is pulled into his current, shifting tides at the mercy of the moon and its desires.

_

Lane drags a toe through the sand as he recalls their parting words. The depths of space and the depths of the ocean are the same in the end. The call of each as alluring and dangerous as that of a siren. How desperate they must have been to heed them. Lane wonders, briefly, at the logic of seeking to fill emptiness in places of emptiness. Too late, he realizes, that it perhaps could have been found in each other.

_

The dream dies 20,000 feet above the ocean in a crimson blaze painted across the sky. The dream sinks, and Lane’s soul, which had so long resided under the waves, floats up and lays abandoned upon the sand, shriveling under unforgiving sunlight.

_

Adam was right. No matter where it is, a suit is just a cage. A suit in the sea or a suit in space or a suit buried in the ocean floor. Unbidden tears prick at his eyes.

“You weren’t supposed to go down like that!” Lane chokes out, wiping furiously at his face as the weight of grief pulls him to his knees. He can’t differentiate between the taste of his tears and that of the seawater. Heart thrumming in his ears, he forces his breathing to match the steady rhythm of the tides flowing in and out. The ocean, wide and open, swallows his cries. For that, at least, he is grateful.

For so long he has avoided both the stars and the sea, refusing to look up at the night sky or approach the shore. Tonight, he finds the sea willing to embrace his return. It’s time to conquer the other. He can only run so far.

Rock Point Beach, the same sands upon which he had made the accursed promise, and below the same night sky that enticed Adam enough to launch himself into a watery grave. Lane takes a deep breath, summoning courage from the briny scent of the sea, and tilts his head up.

At home, even when graced with a cloudless night, there are scarce few stars to seek out. Here, it seems the sky has broken to reveal its inner layer of jewels, countless precious gems strewn about with abandon. He can understand Adam’s desire to pluck one from the sky, and keep it tucked in the hollow of his chest for its warmth or atop his head for its guiding light. His eyes quickly find three stars in perfect alignment, and he traces the outline of Orion and his belt. He recalls a hand guiding his own countless times, a voice whispering stories about the connection between the stars. How he wishes he paid more attention to the words themselves and not just the rhythmic lullaby they fell into.

Lane gently lowers his eyes to the horizon, the silken sea illuminated by the steadfast glow of the moon. What did Adam find hidden in that mesmerizing intersection? With enough time, perhaps Lane could find it too. He takes comfort in the thought and allows himself a moment of respite, two worlds settling around him in a complete embrace.