Day Ninety-Two: Shell Diving

Link now trusts us to work near the Diamonds. Very exciting.

We are not delivering the major discoveries of course. But someone needs to clear the sluice pits, and so glad this falls to me. 

Nate gave us access this morning via a thick metal door near the last few tanks.  The diamonds hover on tops of the thick metal grills above ours head. I liked the way the rainbows turned the cogs in Nate’s head multicolour. 

Screwed into floor are large pink shells, each containing a pool of water that numbed your fingers. Old relatives of the clams in 817. With plinks and splashes the smaller creatures that burst from the Diamonds found a temporary home.

We scooped them out, and popped them in smaller tanks for sorting. Deni used a longer net to avoid getting splashed. Yesterday Link checked the length was suitable three times before agreeing to them coming down.

Not much glamour down here, and the excitement of new arrivals wore off after hour three. But this is the white hot moment of working at the Stitch I have wanted. 

Most new arrivals are shorter than your index finger, and dipped in pastel colours that stand out like polka dots against the pink of the shell.

However, not everything follows this pattern. 

For example, we slung the net around a handful of brown crabs the length of bottle cap. They melted like treacle, and seeped through the tiny holes of the nets. We had to shove them across before they dribbled off, reformed, and scuttled across the floor. 

What I liked were the items that fell alongside the living. Coins with faces that no one recognises. Pins and sewing needles made in a chunky, old style. Even real plastic, bleached by the sun, and shaped into unknown animals. A gentle rain of these fells every so often. By the end of the day unknown snouts and glimmering circles reached the top of our bucket.

I must ask Link if I can keep some.

We had to lock up at the end of the shift. Nate starts and leaves early three days a week. This meant walking behind one of the Diamonds to close a gate at the top of the stairs. The faintest sound of music bleeped from somewhere unknown. 

‘You should….put your hand in,’ Deni says. ‘See what…it…feels like.’

‘What if it chops my fingers off?’

Deni shook their head.

‘The animals…go through…the coins. Stronger than…your fingernails.’

A more sensible Venus told me this had the logic of putting a body part into a whirring fan. But I wanted a story for my gap year. 

My fingertips brushed something cold and chalky, like touching a pavement floating in the air. Everything up to my wrist vanishes into the imagination. For a few moments I was between two worlds.

Then something slimy landed on my palm, and I had to jerk back to reality. On the center of my hand was something round, and bubblegum pink. A lemon beak opened and closed. A landing the other way round  would have resulted in a pin sized hole in my skin.

I sent my new friend into the pool with a satisfying splash. It expanded to grapefruit size, and moved at a vigorous pace around a new home.

‘If we…pulled them out…' Deni said.  ‘Our job…is done.’

If I had kept pushing my hand in, was the home of the Butter Mouse within grasp?

Took an end of day drink with Deni near the inhabitants of 1005. All three are flowering now. Deni stared at an unopened can of mint coffee, and puffed on their menthol cigarette. I tried to explain to them about the clips linking up, but not sure if they understood or cared.

We are going roller skating tomorrow. Or at least they said they are happy to watch. 

Clip:  Look at those beautiful creatures! Can they really be imaginary?