A Mere Observer

Trent the Shark

The aquarium was our next stop. Right on the pier, along the biggest dock I'd ever seen that also held a Ferris wheel in the distance. You could see ships costing along the shining water and those that bobbed idly as they were docked. The air was so fresh compared to the city behind us, despite the fishy smell that would waft every so often in the breeze that tousled my hair.

I'd been to the Denver aquarium but it was nothing compared to the contained-ocean this one was. There were so many tanks and so much fish and too many pictures to be taken.

I think, along our journey through the exotic waters, I came to fully realize just how famous Trent was. One person after another would come up to us claiming they were fans and nine-times-out-of-ten they would ask for a picture. I would just stand to the side, smile when Trent introduced me, and wait to carry on with the current.

Trent was that kind of shark that all of those other fish latched on to, and I was the little hermit crab, tucked inside my shell.

Master Trent, the shark, was so fluent with speaking to his fans. Sometimes it was hard for me to believe that he had a fear of them, until he would look at me, drained, once they left. He would constantly apologize to me for having to deal with them while I waited but it really wasn't his fault. I honestly don't know how he does it.

At one point, I got really excited because a Sam came up to us to ask for a picture. When Sam pulled out his phone to take the picture, I asked, "Is that the latest version?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah, it is."

That's what I thought.

I was tempted to ask his views about the environment or if he had a friend named Randy, but alas, I refrained. I was too shy to say anything more, anyway.

When Sam left, I decided to let Trent in on my theory about how Sams flood every convention. He gave me the look of an epiphany.

"You are so right! At some point, they all just blur into one person."

"Sam."

He gave me the same look from last night in the café, like he was seeing something for the first time and he had to study every part of it before it could disappear. It was too long and too intense for my comfort. Luckily I had more than enough fish to look at instead of meeting his gaze.

Eventually he said, "Yeah, Sam," with a thoughtful smirk.

Floating along quietly beside Trent, I soaked in all the color surrounding us like a sponge, well, maybe Nico was the sponge since he was the one holding all of the pictures I took. After every shot Trent would want to see it and give me the usual ooh's and ahh's. He would always repeat something about my eye for things or how I had such a talent. Which, I will admit, made me feel extremely happy.

There was a moment where I caught him smiling down at me as I fiddled with Nico, his eyes glowing with that laidback confidence.

"What?" I asked pointedly.

"I knew you'd like it."

"Like what?"

"The aquarium. How could you not go ham with taking pictures here?"

He's right. Had he really put that much thought into taking me here? Of all the places in Seattle, he brought me to the aquarium because he knew how much I would enjoy putting Nico to good use. This time as his eyes glowed down at me I didn't look away. I returned his glow with my own that I hoped told him how thankful I was.

Our deeper-level of silent communication was interrupted abruptly and jolted me back into our surroundings. I expected it to be another fan and started to wonder how many fans could possibly be in one aquarium at once, but I soon noticed the familiar splatter of color.