I clean up the kitchen, vibrations come from the bedroom so Parro and Ange must be talking.

I clean up the kitchen as softly as I can, scrubbing the pot and bowl with some hard soap block beneath the stove filter, taking the stove filter outside and releasing bubbles of oil and crumbs to bobble clear up to the surface instead of our pointy ceiling, setting the last bottle of milk out on the counter where hopefully someone will see it.

Then I sneak from the house and swim to the cave, paddling in side-to-side arcs, in and out of the section of slightly-off vibrations caused by the flat face in the rising hill.

At the cave entrance, I break the mud disguising the rock in the hole, shimmy my fingers around the edges of it, wiggle it free. It slides out in my arms, exposing the round entrance to the cave.

But there's a crack in the rock. Top left corner. I nibble my lip, inspecting the front and back and all the edges and that's the only crack. I rub the smooth stone, to thank it for guarding the cave, checking for more cracks again. There are none.

When did the crack happen?

I carefully set the rock on the ground, in front of the cave entrance. Maybe last time, I dropped the rock, and that cracked it. Maybe I jammed it into the cave entrance carelessly. Maybe a fish headbutted it. I don't know.

I tap the edges of the rock, wiping away traces of mud, in my head I thank it for being a good rock friend and watching over the cave, I'm sorry it got a crack in it, I'll be careful so it doesn't get more.

Then I duck inside the cave. I float over the ring of shells on the floor, I pop open the box puttied to the ceiling and count the shells inside. Still fourteen. I pick up the two nautilus shells in the ring on the floor and switch them with two old coral skeletons from the box, in oval shapes like brand new leaf buds. Then I adjust the eight shells in the ring on the floor slightly outward to account for the slightly larger size of coral than nautilus.

I say hello to the kept dolls, three pink ones, twenty-three green ones, hello Pinky and Fluorescent and Finzee and Voyage and Popper and Yewel. I stare at the pink doll with her bitty pebble eyes whose name I can't figure out, who reminds me of someone but I'm not sure who. I try Hamme. I try Anemon, Wrass. Even Mackere. I try Mum but that's horribly wrong. I take the pink doll out of the cave with me, we swim deeper down the hillside until I can hardly see and I try out Salmo and Mantara but those aren't right either.

I swim back to the cave; Sta and Ange and Parro don't work of course, I've already tried them. I wrack my mind for classmates in school, Mum and Da's neighbors, drummers from concerts Ange took us too.

I come up with nothing.

This pink doll, who reminds me of someone I knew at some point but can't figure out who, won't tell me her name.

Agitated, I switch out the scallop shells on the floor for two other scallop ones, more magenta colored. I point their fans inward, I point them out, neither feels quite right.

I switch up all the other shells in the circle; instead of pairs of two beside each other I make a pattern--coral, auger, scallop, abalone, coral again--but that's worse so I rearrange them again but I forgot where exactly they sat to begin with, so now the next time I come into the cave I know I'll notice their positions are all off; I flutter outside the cave entrance, comparing the floor to my memory to figure out where the shells started out, I go back to the circle and slide all the shells a few finger-lengths sideways and flutter back out the entrance but no, that's worse I go back to the floor and shift them all back but that was already the wrong place--I move the eight shells into a new pattern--coral, auger, coral, auger then scallop, abalone, scallop, abalone--but no, that's off balance, too many big shells close to each other, I switch the coral and auger and that's better I squeeze my eyes shut. I tense up all my muscles. I vibrate my back fins, tap my fingers together it's better it's FINE--what is the doll's name after Yewel?

What is it?

I pick up all the shells and drop them randomly around the edges of the cave that way it's far too different to compare to the circle on the floor I had before, I don't even look at the particular shell I'm dropping but my hands know their shapes so before I drop them all I know I've gone and done oval coral, then pointy auger, then fan-like scallop, then coral, then auger, then big and round abalone, abalone, scallop but it's fine it's FINE it was random totally random I flex my fingers, spread out my wrist fins, ankle fins, toes go splayed I roll out my neck.

I flutter, saying goodbye to Pinky and Popper; Fluorescent and Finzee; Voyage and Yewel. I say goodbye to the twenty unnamed dolls.

What is the doll's name after Yewel it bothers me.

I swim out the cave, I carefully lift the rock into place in the entrance. The crack has stayed the same size, so I didn't drop it this time, didn't squish it in wrong. I paddle just barely to the hillside and scoop handfuls of mud, I go rub my hands across the rock and the flat face in the hill and cover up all but a few gaps between the rock and the flat stone so next time I can still shimmy my fingers in and pull out the rock.

I thank the rock for guarding this cave. I hope the rock makes friends with the new coral skeletons on the floor, makes friends with the kelp dolls along the back wall despite the distance between them.

I swim up the hillside, skirting the line between slightly-off vibrations delayed by the flat face, and regular vibrations from the teardrops.