That night after my shift at the cafe I had dragged a couple of friends onto the floor to lay with me around the band members above. They played some new songs at rehearsal whilst I got the others to close their eyes and place their hands and feet firmly on the floor.
And a one, and a two, and a…
Waves crashed before us, and before we knew it, we had been swept up in a rhythmic sea raised up by the band. The bass was deep and slow but present and reminiscent of a lonesome whale in the dark depths of the sea. It danced around with the sound of the cymbals through my fingertips, and my feet were soon in shock from the electric eel that was buzzing and weaving in between strings of the lead guitar.
I had been deaf since birth and every treatment I had was either botched or simply didn’t work. I wanted to feel and hear the sea the bands created. Visits to doctors and audiologists in their offices and trying new tests was not unfamiliar. Eventually, a new implant was introduced. The offices were filled with more hope, more chances. I could smell the sea getting closer. Its salty fresh aroma in the air enticed me.
Soon, the device in my ears had been fitted and needed time to adjust to my ear before being activated. It was as small as a bean and connected to something behind my eyes. I didn’t really care for the details; I was impatient for results.
I fought through the rain and sleet that scratched at my face on my way to work. Once my foot was in the door, the warm welcoming smell of hot, sweet tea and the roaring fireplace flushed my face and put me in a sleepy trance.
As I walked to the back of the counter, I felt beats from the floor starting to mirror my footsteps, as if someone was following me. Startled, my eyes shot up to the view of the band pranking me with the kick drum. I stuck my tongue out at their laughing faces and began to get ready for the shift, surprised that they were setting up their equipment for a gig today. They told me it was a private gig that they had set up for me as soon as my implant was ready. They had made a song just for me.
Turning on my implant, I gathered my friends. As we danced together, learning the rhythm as we went, I could pick out the sound of each instrument one by one. I rushed over to the instruments like a forgiven sinner at the feet of a pastor, the loudness almost deafening me again. I grabbed and grazed each instrument one at a time, both senses melding together. The whole cafe became immersed. An aquarium of musicians, customers, hearing, deaf, instruments, and coffee cups all swam together. I felt the cleansing powers of the sea wash through us.
