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After lowering his sails, Wifies hoisted the anchor over the edge of the boat, allowing it to plummet into the deep. The anchor sank into the darkness, consumed by the abyss. The light of the moon dully illuminated the small sailboat, waves gently rocking the ship. He tied a small trinket to his belt, tightly securing it.
Faith, he told himself as he stood on the bow of the ship, peering into the abyss. He took out a little bottle with a murky, translucent liquid in it. As he drank it, he grimaced, almost gagging. Void, did that taste awful. However, he didn’t complain, it being a small, barely considerable price. He tied a second bottle around his belt and he stepped closer to the edge of the ship.
Closing his eyes, he leapt off, plummeting into the frigid water. Every muscle in his body tensed instinctively, but he continued. He allowed the ocean to pull him deeper into the abyss, the cold surrounding him in a cold embrace. When he opened his eyes, he saw nothing, the pitch-black abyss being all-encompassing, not even the moon’s light reaching these depths.
He wondered briefly if he had showed up at the wrong place, or if he wouldn’t turn up. He quickly dispelled these thoughts, for he was absolutely certain that he’d gotten the coordinates right. 20000, 20000. Before he had the chance to worry further, the familiar glow of a television shone through the darkness, acting as a sort of beacon.
The glow was beautiful, and he found himself comparing it to a shine of a lighthouse within a stormy night. How beautiful it must be, to be lost in the abyss and find that beacon of hope, those wonderful rays of light streaking through the night?
He swam towards the light, eventually coming face to face with a television. He recognized it anywhere.
“I’m sorry that I’m a bit late, Hummer, truly,” he said, hands roaming the darkness to search for his hand. He found it, and clasped it gently in between his gloved hands. His fingers traced over the webbed digits and he smiled gently. “Don’t get me wrong, I have missed you dearly.”
“I have too,” Hummer said, partially wrapping his tail around Wifies. “It gets lonely down here. Time passes too slowly. I know it’s only been a day…”
“Yet it feels like an eternity, does it not?” he said, completing his sentence.
“Always,” Hummers muttered, webbed hands wrapping Wifies in an embrace, feeling his warmth. He clutched him tighter, wanting to feel his warmth as closely as possible, to hold it tight and never let go. Such warmth was a rare luxury in the freezing depths, and he took great care to savor it as much as he could.
“If only I could give you letters so that you might remember me better,” Wifies lamented, twiddling with the item strapped to his belt. “However, I can give you a small trinket.” He freed it from his belt and held it out to Hummer, who examined it with great interest.
“What is it?”
“It’s a compass, so that you'll know where I always am. I live west of here, so when the needle is pointing to the W mark, you'll be facing me.” He gestured to the mark.
“I see. I worry it will be damaged.”
“Don't worry too much about it. It's lasted many years and many storms, I'm certain it will last many more."
"That's good," he said, taking and examining it with great care. His fingers grazed over the glass and the casing, running over the seams in the metal.
They spent the following hours, with Wifies occasionally swimming back to the surface to grab more potions of water breathing. They situated themselves on a shallower seabed adjacent to a coral reef and they began talking. Wifies told Hummer all about his day, describing everything in vivid detail.
He told him of brilliant lights that filled the skies, snapping like dragons before exploding into a million colors. He told him of the small cafe that he'd go every morning, saving an empty spot across from him as he drank his coffee and read the paper. He'd tell them of magnificent festivals with lanterns and music and a hundred more wonderful things.
He'd describe every little thing as if he was trying to give share memories that he feared Hummer would never experience himself. He skipped over the parts where he'd put a nautilus shell where Hummer would have sat, or search in every store that he could for a music disc and a jukebox so that he could haul it out to sea and share even a minuscule part of his world.
He mourned the part where he knew that Hummer could never feel the comfort of sleeping in a warm mattress, or being greeted by his neighbors every morning, or running in the middle of the night, lover in hand, as they scaled the roofs and laid underneath the stars.
He mourned all the moments he could never have with him. He mourned that he could never spend their afternoons rummaging through a library, chattering on about who knows what mysteries they had found the day prior. He mourned the nights they could have spent dancing on rooftops as fireworks exploded overheard. He mourned the fact that his greatest friend — whatever he was to him at this point — would never know those small joys.
And why?
What had he done so wrong?
A horrible injustice. Despite it all, he knew if anyone found out about Hummer, he didn't even want to know what they'd do to him. Was he really keeping Hummer safe?
"That all sounds lovely," Hummer said, with a smile in his voice. Wifies looked away. Was this fair? Have him listen to all these stories?
"I know. It is. There's nothing I'd want more than for you to see it all yourself," he said.
And for a moment, he stared out into the abyss. Here, it was dark and it was lonely. What kind of friend was he to just leave him here? The visits helped, sure, but it must be miserable to be confined to the freezing depths, wouldn't it?
"But I'll find a way. I promise, Hummer," he said, turning to Hummer, a small smile on his face. "No matter what."