The Jellyfish

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Trauma Cat

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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

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