Shark Net

‘Flying fish!’

‘Triple somersault!’

‘Ragdoll!’

When the body is given a good three metres to fall from, the possibilities are extensive. When the body pumps with adrenaline, desire, and bottom-shelf chardonnay, the possibilities are endless.

It was Blair’s turn. He adopted a sprinters starting position and looked up over the rim of the bridge into the placid ocean below, moonlight shining off his bald head and his basketball shoulders. One of the swaying spectators, Dan, yelled, ‘Go!’ and Blair lurched forward with his big feet booming against the beams of wood.

‘Bird!’

With a final push, he flung his chunky-man body forth and flapped his arms like a turbulent jumbo jet. It was more Snakes on a Plane than The Aviator and he bombed into the black waters, disappearing like a transatlantic flight over the Bermuda triangle.

The plunge was followed by whoops and laughter. Spray fell from on high, sizzling on their skin and on the bridge. Dan lay down and peered over the rim, the soft wood held the day’s warmth to his stomach.

Blair’s head bobbed to the surface, a tiny dot in the dark. He grinned shark teeth up at the party.

‘Feathers a bit wet?’ asked Dan.

‘Dry as a bird,’ said Blair.

‘It’s dry as a bone,’ said Dan.

‘And light as a feather,’ added Kat, standing over him. Water dripped from her hair and landed on his back.

Dan twisted around.

‘Ligero como una pluma,’ he said. Light as a feather.

She looked down.

‘En España no decimos eso.’ We don’t say that in Spain.

Blair popped up at the ladder, blinking water.

‘D, give me a hand.’

‘Blair, you will definitely pull me in.’

‘And?’

‘Sounds like Dan needs a hit,’ said Kat, ‘¿Dónde está la marihuana?’ Where’s the weed?

‘With your man,’ said Dan.

Further down, facing away out to sea, Tom sat under a jetty light. Smoke coiled and twisted up over his head in the yellow fluorescence. He looked over his shoulder, saw them looking at him, and slowly looked away.

He kept looking away as they came close. The joint burnt slow in his hand.

‘Tommy baby, pass the jazz,’ said Kat.

He bounced his knee, sticky eyes staying on the horizon. The moon’s light formed steps across the open ocean. The night sky was deep mauve.

‘Might be too stoned,’ said Kat.

Tom shifted, and held out the joint.

‘Jazz,’ he said.

Kat took a slow hit and exhaled. She held it up to Dan’s mouth, her thumb tip rested on his bottom lip. Dan burnt the joint, eyes on Kat’s. He felt a tickle in his lung, and nodded. She passed it off to Blair. Tom watched.

‘Lighter?’ asked Blair.

Tom passed him a red mini-BIC.

Blair lit up and exhaled loudly.

‘Why’ve you still got those on, man?’ he said, motioning at Tom’s cargo shorts.

‘I’m not swimming,’ said Tom.

‘You’re making me feel self-conscious.’

‘That’s not my intention.’

‘We’re all creatures in the light of the moon,’ said Kat. She flashed a downwards glance at Dan, ‘Absolutely nothing to be self-conscious about.’

‘Pass that joint back,’ Tom said to Blair.

In a loose circle, they worked the joint down to a stub. It was good, and, mixed with the cheap wine, soon had them swaying in the thick humidity of night. The waves sloshed below. The bridge creaked across the bay.

On one side, nestled in the bridge’s curving arm, protected by the shark net that hung below, was Redleaf Pool. Moreton Bay figs whispered on the foreshore, overripe fruits gave way to the occasional gust, burying themselves in the mulchy floor. Further up inland, high and distant, the final few house windows blinked off.

A ship’s horn blew from far across the water.

‘How far away do you reckon that was?’ asked Blair.

‘Hard to say,’ said Tom, ‘There’s thousands of kilometres of ocean between us and Auckland.’

‘Sound travels far when it’s like this,’ said Kat, ‘Bounces across the water.’

‘I know,’ said Tom.

Behind him, Kat held up her palms.

‘Could’ve been a whale,’ said Dan.

‘Or a giant squid,’ said Blair.

‘Or a boat,’ said Tom.

They looked out.

On the other side was open ocean, Point Piper and Darling Point closed around it in a pincer. Apart from the encroaching mainland, the only thing to interrupt the infinite blackness were the moored boats, which hung, lights turned off, like dead stars in space. Past those, sight continued off into obscurity until the sea blurred into the thick blanket of light-polluted sky.

Tom flicked the roach, it twirled over the edge and into the water.

‘Hey man, why’d you dump that? There’s a bin right over there,’ said Dan.

Tom shrugged.

‘That could end up killing something,’ said Dan.

‘I’ve not seen any turtles at Redleaf before, Dan,’ said Tom.

‘Not just turtles. Fish, dolphins, seals…’

‘Not seen them.’

‘You don’t even swim here,’ said Blair, motioning at Tom’s shorts again, ‘How would you see?’

‘That’s so trash man,’ said Dan, ‘Sorry, I just think it’s trash to do that.’

Tom turned around to face them.

‘Hey! We’re drunk and high right now. I didn’t think. It’s one tiny filter against the whole ocean.’

‘I just feel bad about it, man,’ said Dan, ‘Like it’s right there, floating away.’

The filter drifted on the surface, to-ing and fro-ing in the undulating water.

‘Those things never break down.’

Blair put his hands on Tom’s shoulders and leant down to look him in the eye.

‘You should go get it, man’ he said, smiling out the side of his mouth.

Blair laughed.

Tom laughed.

Blair stopped.

‘No but really, you should get it.’

Tom looked at Blair, then Dan, then Kat.

‘It might be the right thing to do,’ she said.

‘It’s definitely the right thing to do,’ said Blair.

Tom swelled.

‘I’m not gonna jump in!’ He stared Blair down, ‘And don’t you start. I’m not scared-scared.’

‘He’s scared-scared,’ said Blair.

‘Forget it.’

‘I’ll get it,’ said Dan, ‘You’ve never seen anything in the water before, anyway.’

Tom blew out a sigh, rubbing his eye sockets.

‘I don’t know.’

Blair turned to Dan.

‘Ju-u-ump in.’

He clapped.

‘Ju-u-mp in.’

Dan leant over and looked at the roach.

‘Just be careful, Dan,’ said Kat. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘Go, big man,’ said Blair.

Tom stood up from the bench.

‘Fine. I’ll get it. I can get it. Move, Blair.’

He shoved past Blair and joined Dan at the edge.

‘Right. There it is. Ok. Here I go.’ He took a deep breath, grabbed his cargo shorts, yanked them down to his ankles, and stepped out naked.

‘There he is,’ said Blair, ‘Ju-u-mp in!’

He strode up behind Tom and slapped his right ass cheek. The chant continued,

‘Jump in. Jump in. Jump in.’

Tom took a breath. Dan leant in,

‘I can totally jump in man, it’s no big deal.’

Tom huffed.

‘I’m going,’ he shouted, staring down at the water.

‘Go-o-o!’ yelled Blair, clapping loud.

Tom exhaled in an audible ahhh sound, took two striving strides, and jumped off the bridge. He ran like a man running up a sand dune, like the bridge tilted up to work against him. He pushed on, and up. When he leapt, the rim of the bridge snatched at his feet and tipped him flying headfirst. The ocean below opened up. Tom went plunging in and under.

He knew not his orientation in the wet cold black, knew not his direction for being there. The cold rushed down his ear canal and into his head. The night on the bridge washed away. Their nakedness washed away. His partner, skin glistening, standing closer and closer to Dan – away.

Get the roach.

To his left, the dim sandy basin. To his right, the jetty light. He dragged himself towards the light, fixed on its dim trembling. He reached out to break the surface, and hit the sandy floor instead. A small flurry of disturbed sand rose up in the direction he had thought to be down.

Above, the roach bobbed in the wake of Tom’s crash. He had flown right over, and the ripples pushed and prodded it under the bridge. It reached the net.

A final swell of water sent it through the mesh and onto the other side of the bay.

Tom could not have fit through.

It was designed to keep sharks out.

He kicked off, and broke the surface, gasping air in.

A tiny dot in the deep, dark ocean.