The Ethereal Man

I hadn't thought about him in years, four years to be exact. I'm convinced at this stagehe wouldn't even remember my face let alone my name and yet I missed him. Asudden pang of regret hit me as I laid awake one night and recollected the sequence of events that led to our introduction that lucky morning.
I met JeanMarc by pure chance when I was holidaying by myself in Mauritius those fouryears ago. It was the first time I had attempted flying solo on an islandgetaway and just as I was regretting my independent nature, I stumbled upon alocal dive shop in the sleepy beach town of Flic en Flac.
Jean Marcwas on his knees, back exposed to the rays of the sun as his wetsuit lay halfpeeled at his hips. He was hosing down some scuba equipment when I disruptedhim. He glanced over his shoulder and his islander good looks caught me bysurprise. He had a closely shaved head, just enough to know that he was in noway a victim of pre mature balding and his body was long and lean, more on theskinny side as he eventually rose to his full height of almost six feet. Toweringover me, he extended a handshake, and the local etiquette equivalent of being agentleman with a kiss on either side of my cheek. I blushed instantly at the suddenaffection bestowed by a stranger and quickly used words to distract from myobvious discomfort.
He spokeEnglish with a thick French accent. He spoke slowly and calmly like the essenceof relaxation had long taken over his soul. I was hooked by his tone and made a mental note to relax during this trip.
Jean Marcwasn’t just a pretty islander. That very first day we sat alone in the diveshop talking about all things personal and philosophical as one would sometimesfind only easy with a stranger. I poured my recent sob stories and he pointed outthe silver linings, carefully drawing analogies from his own past experiences. Heseemed genuinely empathetic of my recent sorrows and convinced me a great distractionwas in order, one only the ocean had the power to heal. I nodded in agreement and signed on the dotted line.
I left thedive shop feeling a little lighter. I barely skimmed the ground as Iskipped my way back to the beach bungalow I had rented. The sun’s tiring heat suddenlydidn’t bother me and the humidity that made beads of sweat form around my face,were dismissed with a simple swipe of my arm. My hair frizzed at theroots, allowing my natural curls to peek through and for once, I wasn't bothered at all.
I arrivedat the dive shop the next day with a new found enthusiasm for life. I wassmiling, more like grinning like an idiot when I was greeted by a short, blondwoman who welcomed me with a per functionary hug. Her eyes were wide withexcitement and I wasn’t quite sure if she was this happy at the prospect ofevery new diver or if she was high on other recreational island pastimes. Sheexplained that Jean Marc was conducting a dive and she would teach me the ropes ofscuba diving instead. My heart may have literally sunk at this point butnevertheless, the thought of diving was exciting enough for me to staycommitted and concentrate on the daunting task that lay ahead that afternoon.
Diving 101seemed simple enough in theory. I didn’t need to know much about the equipmentapart from the apparatus I would be actively using once submerged so everythingsinked in pretty quickly. Sooner than not I was ushered into a cubicle tochange into a wetsuit and when I emerged suffocated from top to toe in neoprene, I wasmet with a familiar smile, Jean Marc was back from the ocean dripping wet andall too eager to kiss me hello. He didn’t bother changing out of his wetsuit,instead he took me straight out to the beach to familiarize me with breathingunderwater. He strapped the cylindrical tank to my back and eased the breathingapparatus into my mouth and slowly pulled me underwater close to the shoreline.
My heart raced and he blinked at me reassuringly to trust him, I started to andfear escaped as my vision settled on the brink of a new world. He held my handand steadied me as the concept of buoyancy is far from what I've learnt in the classroom.I suddenly felt safe and protected.
My hair was whipping violently in the wind as the speedboat took us out to sea. I satnervously in the corner amidst many experienced divers all speaking incomplicated jargon. They fiddled with their gear and tugged to readjust theirsuits, the mood was light despite my nerves which have now taken shape to form astorm cloud hovering directly over my head. Jean Marc spots the troubled amateur andpats my shoulder, convincing me to anticipate excitement and adventure insteadof nerves and fear. He drags me into the conversation with the other divers andI am grateful for the next ten minutes of pure distraction.
I was thelast one in the boat to descend into the water and even when I did, Jean Marcwas right there waiting for me. He checked my snorkel mask and eased the breathingapparatus back into my mouth and motioned me to begin our descent. My eyes werefixated on the vast depth down below, it was terrifying making my way down tothe seabed. I kept equalizing my ears but apart from the pressure, fear was allI felt until I reached the bottom.
Suddenly amyriad of colours came into view and I was mesmerised at how close the fishescame to me. I took my time making my way around the corals and Jean Marc neverleft my side. The other divers had spread out and now I couldn't spot any ofthem within my field of vision so it was reassuring that Jean Marc had decidedto stay close.
He urged meto get right next to the corals and to look twice at things that first didn’tquite catch my eye. He cupped a seahorse from the hunk of coral and brought it to my face as it swam in tiny circles. I wanted more, and maybe it was evident fromthe bewildered look on my face as he took me on his own personal tour of the reefhe considered home.
I left thedive shop that day with a new sense of accomplishment. I loved being underwater, the sound ofyour own breathing was calming in a way I had never experienced before. Myvision heightened as I was taught to look beyond the obvious. The coloursamazed me and I felt myself wanting more. I was hooked and I thanked Jean Marcfor it.
I managedto stay away for a couple of days as I explored other parts of the island butfound myself back at the door of the dive shop on day three, eager for anotherdive. Jean Marc wasn't in so I signed up with the nice German lady who scheduled adive for the second last day of my trip. What a great finish to a so faramazing holiday.
Theanticipated Thursday rolled around quickly enough as days often fly by when you’reon vacation but brought with it some temperamental weather. The sky was darkand furious, storm clouds threatening as the ocean roared in unison. The wavescrashed angrily on the beach, sending foam to reach the highest part of thebeach that usually never met the ocean.
I assumedthe dive would be cancelled but showed up anyway at the dive shop to bid mygoodbyes. Jean Marc greeted me with a quick kiss on the cheek and ordered me tosuit up. My jaw must have dropped to the ground but the glint in his eye toldme he was not kidding. He was excited.
I tried toworm my way out of the dive but he wouldn’t take no for an answer and he washolding my deposit ransom. At this stage, he was friendly enough to tease my fears and dramatize my pleas of escape.  He just wouldn’t budge and playfully nudgedme into the changing room, stuffing all the necessary gear into my arms.
Idiligently changed, my breakfast now in my throat and I tried to push thoughtsof the boat capsizing out of my head. He gleefully walked out of the dive shopinto the pouring rain and lead me out to the boat. That day there were only four ofus diving, two other local divers. Clearly no sane tourists dared challenge the weather unlike the feisty locals and little ol' me.
The boattook twice as long to go out to sea through the choppy waves. I bounced aroundthe boat, often losing grip of the ledge. One wave came high and mighty out ofno where and I dropped my snorkel mask into the ocean. My heart leaped with theboat then I thought, well now I won’t have to dive. Jean Marc tried to lean overas far as he could but even his long limbs were no match for the distance theocean had put between the boat and the now floating-to-the-depth-of-the-oceansnorkel mask.
He frownedat me and then whipped out a spare mask from an equipment compartment under theseats. “Fat chance getting out of this Kash” he warned and took a seat next tome. We talked about my fears as the rain pelted heavy drops and even though Iknew he was saying all the stereo-typically right things, I believed him andinstantly felt relieved. He had a knack for getting under my skin and in a goodway at that.
Once I hitthe water, the scene changed dramatically. The ocean was unfazed by the stormbrewing on the surface, in fact, clarity was at an all time high. Jean Marctook my hand as we swam down to the reef. Occasionally he’d squeeze my hand,prompting to know if I was ok and I’d squeeze it right back, then he’d resumeswimming, pointing out fish and sea life. The whole world seemed oblivious tome right now as it was just me, Jean Marc and the deep blue sea.
All of asudden, Jean Marc steadied himself, stopped moving and so I followed suit.He was staring off into the distance and I squinted my eyes to try to catchwhatever he was looking at. He tightened the grip on my hand, looked into myeyes and blinked slowly as if to comfort me. In a way I think he was telling menot to be afraid but I was simply confused until something twitched in my peripheralvision. It looked like it was miles away and yet the alarming size to whichit was growing, made my tummy do flip flops. A large eagle ray flapped itswings ever so poetically as it made its way to us. I stared dumbfounded by itsbeauty, unable to move, unable to think, unable to understand what was goingon.
It swooped so close to us that I thought Iwas about to faint from glee. I wanted to reach out and touch it but my handsand my brain were not yet in sync. I huddled closer to Jean Marc as the eagleray made two loops around us and then disappeared off into the distance. Theexhilaration from this very experience has never left me as even today when I thinkabout that eagle ray, I remember the sheer excitement and my skin starts totingle.
Weeventually surfaced for air and not even the lousy weather that greeted us upabove could wipe the accomplished grin that was plastered on my face. As wewaited for the boat to pick us up, Jean Marc made me promise that I wouldcontinue to dive, continue to be part of this world. I did and it made me chokeback a tear. His fingers were now intertwined in mine as he fumbled for theright words to say goodbye. He told me if he was ever in Australia, he wouldlook me up and I promised the same but we both knew we were lying. I treasuredthose few minutes we had in the open ocean, just bobbing to the waves, fingerswoven tight, words unable to sooth the looming departure. I often think Ishould have kissed him then and there but I also think a kiss may have ruined themoment.
Back in thedive shop, I hugged the German lady and the other divers before slowly makingmy way to Jean Marc. I interruptedand he excused himself from a conversation to hug me goodbye. The hug was longand tight, like we had known each other for years. He didn’t say much otherthan for me to take care of myself. I stood awkwardly, maybe internallywanting more but there was nothing left to be said. He held my hands the entiretime, he was particularly fond of them now that I think back of it andplaced two kisses on either side of my cheek before setting me free.

I turnedaround and left. That was the very last time I saw Jean Marc.
At an agewhen relationships are now hard and complicated, I often think of the simplisticnature of my friendship with Jean Marc. We spoke in ease, we laughed in unisonand we trusted one another prematurely.

I havefriends that tell me to go back and look for him but honestly I’d rather not.The short period in which I’ve known him has left an everlasting impression,one that is free of reality. For in reality, he must have his imperfections andshort comings as do I.
This way Ihave immortalized him in my mind as the ethereal man.