Guy--Part Twenty-Three

Splog # 93

Twenty-Three

   Then he opened his eyes to find a trail of miscellaneously-sized bubbles rising in front of his face. He watched them disappear as they rose to the surface and then stood still and tried to get a clear idea of what had just happened to him.

   He looked down and, as he did, he realized the extra effort needed to move through water as opposed to his usual element. He felt a kind of rising in his whole muscular system simply in order to bend his head forward on his neck. It was also a little harder to see clearly under the water. As though he was floating in a slightly foggy twilight. But after a few moments his eyes adjusted and he saw his bare feet beginning to be immersed in the sandy floor on which he was standing. He wriggled his feet to uncover them and the sudden cloud of sand that resulted obscured his vision even more.

   He brought his head back up, still feeling as though he was using more muscles than usual to move it and also  that he was doing everything in slow motion. Then it struck him that, even though his eyes were open, there weren't any of the uncomfortable sensations that usually accompanied opening one's eyes underwater. And he wasn't having to pay attention to keep water from rushing into his nose. And he had been talking - well, the words hadn't originated from him, but they had come out of his mouth - and he had gotten no water in his mouth. He brought his hands up so that they were touching his ears and his cheeks. But his head received no sensations from his hands. And his hands felt...something smooth..and metallic...and slightly warm. He slowly trailed his fingers down his jawline and under his chin. Tilting his head slightly back, he let his fingers slide down his neck until, just before he reached his collarbone, he felt them on his skin. Wonderingly, he traced the border between skin and metal (or whatever it was) all the way around until his fingers met at the back of his neck, where he found a trace of hair escaping from whatever was covering his head.

   But he knew what it was. It was the blue object he had found in the sand. First, his hands had somehow become attached to it. Then he had picked it up and found himself face to (upside-down) face with it. And then it had talked (had there been music?) and he had put it on top of his head and it had melted (?) onto his head and now he was standing here and breathing under water.

   "Excuse me, are we acclimated yet?"

   Guy had never heard the word before (that he remembered, though considering his parents he figured it had probably been dropped into his brain at some point), but from everything that was happening he thought he could guess what it meant. He tried to think of an appropriate response. He knew he wasn't quite "acclimated", but he seemed to have some idea of what had happened to him, though he had no idea of what would happen next.

   "I think I'm ok," he managed to come up with by way of response.

   "Good. Do you find your breathing and your sight and hearing adjusted to your new environment?"

   Guy was finding it very strange, and slightly comical, that words were coming out of his mouth, in his voice, that he wasn't thinking of and wasn't even expecting to say. Or hear. After each question, it took him a moment to actually hear it and think of an answer.

   "My breathing is fine. But where is the oxygen coming from?"

   "I'm processing it out of the sea water. If you look behind you, you'll see a small trail of hydrogen bubbles rising to the surface."

   Guy turned his head but, by the time he did, the bubbles were pretty far above him and nearly out of sight.