The Jellyfish

Boston Aquarium, 2008 I was with my Uncle Len and my Aunt Marcy My cousins Bo and Jake and Little Nancy We were there to see the sharks and the manta rays And the ornamental seaweed Yes, that was all fine and good You could call it "an excusable American afternoon" But the day didn't start until we found ourselves at the centerfold A large tank that stood at the heart of the facility We sat ourselves on the vacant bench in front of it And what began as a quotidian bout of small talk and scalp itching Quickly sublimated into a series of full-body pangs so intensely arousing That just recounting this story now makes me forget I'm a man at all Anyway I remember looking up, and there it was That gleaming bronze placard that so elegantly read "Jellyfish" A curious word, at once one word and two "A compound," Nancy whispered, wise beyond her two years of age Then, a playful nudge from Uncle Len "Jellyfish," he chuckled. "You think there's such a thing as a peanut butter fish?" Aunt Marcy chimed in, "Do you think other cultures call them 'jamfish?'" And then Nancy said, "No, Mom, no, Dad, everyone calls them 'jellyfish'" And it's funny: I had never heard of a jellyfish before in my life I was maybe, what, 11? 16? I knew nothing about animals or basic science But I tell you, I was transfixed And when I narrowed my gaze through the glass onto one particular specimen I saw what could only be described as love and magic incarnate And the way that she moved, she undulated And the way that she glimmered She was pinkish-purplish-bluish-yellowish-greenish-brownish-reddish in hue She was every color in the world By then, I was standing on the bench My mouth agape Once again, Uncle Len turned to me and this time he said "Look how she swims. That, son, that is called dancing." And I had-I had never-that was a new word, too "Dance" Well, I couldn't stop staring Maybe legally it was ogling I stayed looking at her for the rest of our visit Even as we trudged out the exhibit through the exit gates and back home The jellyfish never left me Even after I'd left her So I made a vow In 10 years' time, I'd go to college, get a degree Find myself a big boy job Then pack up my bindle and hop a train car back to Boston To regale this creature with my credentials and claim her as my wife So that's what I did And when I reached the aquarium, I met the man at the front desk And I said to him, "Take me to the jellyfish" And he said, in between chews of his gum Between blows of his bubble He said with a slack jaw, "Oh, sorry. We don't have those anymore." I said, "What? How could you not have any?" "Well, they all died, and we haven't gotten another shipment yet, I don't know." I had no choice but to sling up my bindle and hop that train car back home Once there, I collapsed onto Uncle Len and Aunt Marcy's bed And when they awoke, they asked me what was wrong, but I told them "Nothing" And to go back to sleep In truth, so much was wrong I had made a decade-long commitment to celibacy for this organism And now I couldn't see her again But that's when I looked up to the ceiling To the glow-in-the-dark stars Len had glued there just weeks before And I thought, no, I knew She couldn't be dead She was boneless Brainless And I could almost see right through her She was the perfect mate, and nothing perfect ever dies You know, then As the flaccid light from those pale plastic stars lulled me into my own quaint slumber I felt armed with the confidence to answer the next day's, the next year's, the next lifetime's questions Which were "Do jellyfish go to Heaven?" Followed closely by "Is there a Heaven?" Well, I don't quite know