Again she danced away. A suspicion began to penetrate his tired brain. She was leading him back to the surface. He wagged his head and let her go. He had come out on the reef to dive.

“Later,” he told her, moving his lips elaborately.

And was she even real? Consider the way she appeared and disappeared, without proper breathing equipment. There was something definitely off about this entire encounter. After he had gone down to one hundred and one, he would come back up. Perhaps she would still be there and he could question her.

He waved goodbye. Moving with agonizing slowness, he doubled forward to start the dive.

The girl, furious at being abandoned, clenched her fists at him. She reached around between her shoulderblades, fumbled with something and shrugged off the top of the bikini.

Shayne stopped. He had wondered if she was real. She was real, all right.

The tiny scrap of cloth drifted away. What the fish would make of it, Shayne didn’t know. It seemed smaller off than on, but even in Shayne’s trancelike condition he was surprised to see what a difference it made. The girl beckoned. Perhaps in a moment he would follow. He wanted to think it over first.

That coral reef had been down there for centuries, and it was still growing. It would still be there, still growing, another weekend. The girl, on the contrary, might choose to vanish, as she had done so suddenly before. And yet, was it wise, was it prudent, to let her think that all she had to do-

A flutter of her long flippers took her away. She looked back over her shoulder to see if he was following. He remained nearly motionless in the water, his head rolling. She returned. He saw her white teeth.

She stripped off the bottom half of her bikini, revolved once before him completely, and with a meaningful flirt of the tail, shot away.