Misunderstood

She lost track of the day sometimes.

The rise and fall of the sun was the only dead giveaway that one day had finished, and the next had begun. The night always attracted a different type of crowd, one she preferred to stay away from. These souls seemed more reserved, stealthy even, and she couldn’t work out why anyone would want to hide all day and miss what happens in the light of the sun.

Today was one of those particularly beautiful days. The sun danced down in streams of sparkling, cascading ribbons of light. The type of ribbons that you want to touch in hope that a bit of sparkle might rub off on you too.

Everyone in sight was out and about, enjoying the light mood that naturally comes with warm weather. From where she was, she almost had 360-degree view of those around her and as she watched them fondly, she had an admiration for how they appeared to be keeping so busy. Some were cleaning out their homes as their children darted in and out of home and garden, some were traveling in groups enjoying their morning exercise, some appeared to be on their own secret mission, but most we’re simply minding their own business, stopping occasionally to stare at her as she also went about her morning routine.

She too usually led a busy lifestyle and wasn’t fond of staying too long in one location. Every year she would travel and revisit her favourite spots. Summer was just approaching in South Australia and the weather was really starting to warm up. The Summers here were beautiful. The air temperature would often frequent in the 30’s and the sun would beam down for hours on end. South Australia is a notoriously sleepy city but when summer hits, boy does it come alive. Everyone appears out of nowhere and the streets fill with the newfound electricity. There’s always something to do, extra activities to take part in and plenty of smells fill the air with the abundance of pop-up places to eat.

As she continued her morning route, the streets were starting to buzz with the start of a new day. There were plenty of passers by engaging in conversation and she couldn’t help but accidentally eavesdrop. She’d always had an acute sense of hearing. She found she could be meters away from someone or something and would still be able to hear. She assumed this was one of the reasons she struggled to make friends. Often, she would find herself joining in on a private conversation between two strangers, a conversation she was not a part of. This never went down well. People would retract away; angry their privacy had been compromised. No one ever tried to understand she wasn’t doing it on purpose or trying to be rude or sneaky, it was the type of hearing that she couldn’t contain or dull down, it was fine tuned to hear even the smallest of sounds.

I suppose you could say she was lonely. Every year, she would take a trip to Port Stephens in New South Wales. She loved it there and it’s where she conceived her first and so far, her only child. It wasn’t a serious love affair with the father, in fact she hardly knew him at all. She gave birth to a perfect, healthy boy some many months later. The father never came to visit but she couldn’t blame him for that. After that night she never saw him again and didn’t have the opportunity to tell him he would be becoming a father.

Her son was all grown up now and she hadn’t seen him in years. He left home when he was young and never called or stopped by. She knew it was unlikely, and although he could be anywhere in the world at this moment, she couldn’t help but keep an eye out for him just in case she was to bump into him again. Of course, the chance of this was slim and even if she did, what would she say? She hoped wherever he was, he was doing well.

Every time she resettled somewhere new, she had to try hard to make new friends where possible. So far, the cleaners she had hired to maintain her home turned out to be adequate company. A husband-and-wife duo who didn’t say too much, to her anyway, but she would often hear them whispering about the state of her home to one another as one cleaned the top side of her home, and the other tackled the bottom. Pity for them, they too didn’t know she could hear them.

She was convinced her physical appearance made it harder for her to make friends. Being different can sometimes make you stand out for the wrong reasons, and she usually felt like she stood out from the crowd. She was a large woman, not fat, but staunch and had wide muscular shoulders from her years of swimming. She was a great swimmer. Fast and determined but quiet and agile as she moved through the water. You would have to see her before you heard her. She was a natural.

People would stare at the thick, jagged scars on the right side of her face, entrenched deep into the skin, constantly reminding her of her past and she didn’t blame them. These battle wounds were from a fight when she was in when she was many years younger. She knew in hindsight; she shouldn’t have taken the bait, but these life lessons only come with the wisdom of living, and at that point, she was too young to understand the consequences of her poor actions. The hard thing to reason is if you are provoked and betrayed as the bad guy, you’ll do all things in your power to defend yourself, to keep yourself safe, and that’s what she did.

//

She often travelled this same route of a morning time, it was her time to gather her thoughts, but this morning, something was different. There was something different about the air and unexplained butterflies had gathered in her belly, making her feel uneasy. Then she heard it. The talking, laughter and shouting of children in the distance. She couldn’t hear clearly what they were saying, but it sounded, fun. The type of fun that she had not experienced in a long time.

She moved closer to where the noise was coming from and with every meter she moved forward, the sounds became more joyful. She couldn’t quite work out how many children were there, four, five, six maybe, but she could tell there were boys and girls there together, laughing and shouting at one another.

She kept on moving, eager to see what the commotion was about. She didn’t usually venture this far from her ‘bubble’. You know the one. The ‘bubble’ around your home, in your suburb, where you feel the most comfortable. The place you bump into neighbours at your local shops, and you know the way the roads flow off by heart. Venturing out of the bubble can bring a sense of anxiety to some, to her, but the desire to know more was greater than the need to stay safe.

She could see the shadows of the children up ahead now. At least four were stationary a few hundred metres in front of her and she could hear the words of their conversation. “Just put your hands on the side of the board and when the wave comes, paddle your arms like crazy! Don’t stop paddling!” one shouted. “Yeah, Tom’s right, don’t stop paddling. You’ll feel the board move when you catch the wave”. She was unsure what any of this meant. The beams of sun were making it challenging to see the children’s faces so as she moved closer, she started to travel up.

All her senses were heightened now. Her head was full of conversation about boards and paddling, her vision was becoming clearer, and she could see several pair of legs swaying gently in the current, and the smell was powerful. A strong, but sweet smell had found the water and was pouring into her nose, through her body, making her mouth water, intoxicating her. She hadn’t experienced this before, and like a drug taking over her body, she was eager to find out more.

She accelerated towards the closest child, powering her one tonne muscular body through the water like a hot knife through butter. She was only feet away when it began, screaming. Ear piercing, blood-curdling screams. All of them, screaming at the same time. Her head felt like it may explode. She became momentarily dizzy.

Legs started kicking and star dusts from churning water took a hold of the surface making the clouds beyond that seem like a ruined water painting. All of them were kicking now, screaming in sync, panicking as they motored towards the shore. She looked around her, not knowing what they were screaming at, what had spooked them, why they would leave if they were having such a good time? She persisted moving towards the slowest child. What if someone was hurt and they didn’t know what to do? After all, they were only kids. They may need her help.

She positioned herself a meter or so under neath the child who was traveling the slowest and could see very clearly how tired the arms were becoming, battling against waves as it struggled to pull the large board through the water. ‘Maybe it just needs a push back to shore’ she thought. She turned her head upwards towards the child, her body following, and her powerful tail effortlessly began to move side to side, positioning herself in the right direction to nudge the back of the board towards the shore, ‘one big push and that should do it’ she thought.

She was close enough to see the writing on the board and the three frangipani flowers that were accompanying it, “Billabong” it read. She was admiring the delicate lines on the flowers when it hit her. The foot left her nose as quickly as it had hit it and her face was forced upwards, bending her head back so for a second, she had a full interrupted view of the clouds. Pain shot through her nose and into her head.

Her eyes blacked over for a split second before she regained enough vision to deflect her body against the child’s surfboard and swim in the opposite direction. Cheers. Were they cheering? Celebrating? Did they not know she had mistakenly been hurt? Her head was ringing, and she wasn’t sure if the new stars she was seeing were a part of her internal vision or something floating in the water. “You got it. You kicked it! It’s gone, the shark, it’s gone. Keep paddling”. The despair in the child’s voice made her blood run cold.

Shark. Her. They were talking about her. She was the shark, the reason they were cheering. The reason they were screaming in the first place. It was like she had been kicked in the face all over again.

Did they not understand she was only trying to help? She only wanted to see them playing joyfully, maybe even become friends? How could she be so misunderstood?

She turned around to face the children who were now nearly at the shore and with the drive of her tail, headed in their direction.