Three Mermaid Tales

  Polyp tracked her father with her eyes while circling Dove protectively.

  "Kill him!" the mer-king screamed. "Someone kill him! That's an order."

  Most of the soldiers silently looked at the floor. Reluctantly, one raised his trident.

  Suddenly the pain grew immense in Dove's belly. He collapsed to the floor of the cellar.

  "Wait!" Polyp cried. "He's giving birth to an innocent child!"

  The soldier threw his trident across the room, away from the birthing father.

  The others dropped their weapons and stood in an awkward circle. None of them knew how to deliver a baby.

  "Polyp, my baby," the mer-king rasped, his voice sore from all the yelling. "You really do love this human, don't you?"

  "Yes," Polyp answered shakily. "Will you spare him for me?"

  The king looked at her with soft eyes. "You remind me so much of your mother," he said, tousling her flowing hair. "I suppose your precious human can be spared."

  Dove groaned on the floor.

  "He needs air!" Polyp cried. Her arms swept under Dove's, and she lifted him to the surface.

  The mer-king waved his arms, and the sea retreated back to its former shore, taking the mer-soldiers with it. Only His Majesty, his daughter, and the man she held, gasping for air at the surface of the flooded cellar, remained.

  One more person slid down from her perch in a tree by Dove's house, ripping her lacy dress as she landed on the muddy earth. "Give him to me," said Rowynne calmly. "I've watched a few babies being delivered."

  Polyp shook her head. "I want him in my arms," she wept. "Otherwise, how can I be sure of getting him back?"

  Dove screamed, a wild scream like a beast of the nether. A hole began opening up at the top of his belly pouch.

  Polyp pushed her lover to the edge of the cellar and laid him at Rowynne's feet. "Take care of him," she said, "for my heart is intertwined with his and if his is pierced by death, mine shall bleed."

  Rowynne nodded. "Your lover is safe with me," she assured the mermaid, who had tears in her rainforest green eyes. "After all, he's my betrothed."

  Chapter Thirteen

  "I'm going to stay with you forever," Polyp nuzzled her new two-legged son's forehead with hers, batting her eyelashes. "I mean it, Dove," she said, looking out of her washbasin at the naturalist as he salvaged what he could from the bookshelves around them.

  The baby started wailing. Dove extended his arms to Polyp and held the baby to his chest. The crying subsided like a gentle wave bubbling into the sand.

  "Yeah? And how does your daddy feel about that?" Randolph inquired of Polyp as he pretended to help Dove straighten out the bookcase while searching for possible morsels of value.

  "Father says he'll make peace with the humans, as long as they do nothing to anger him."

  "Ha! I'll anger him the first time I sneeze," remarked Gaines. The others grunted in agreement.

  "Shall we sail tomorrow noon?" Adamson asked Hildebrand.

  The older man shook his head, making his beard sway from side to side. "We set sail now, as soon as everyone gathers what's left of their belongings. We don't belong here, and my heart won't stop a-thumpin' with dread 'till we's at sea."

  The other men scattered, each headed to what was left of his dwelling.

  Hildebrand looked Dove in the eye. "Well? Aren't you going to get ready?"

  "No," he said firmly. "I'm not leaving this island unless Polyp comes with me." He looked questioningly at the mermaid in the washbasin.

  She looked like she was about to start sobbing. "I can't leave Mystycetii," she rasped. "It's a part of me."

  "You look unwell, Polyp," Rowynne spoke up.

  Dove turned away from his bookshelves for a moment to examine the mermaid. Her ruby red scales were losing their former luster, and her once-rosy cheeks were pale. Her golden hair had lost its shine and hung limply down her back.

  "She's probably just acclimating to the fresh water," Dove hypothesized.

  "She's a mermaid," Rowynne pointed out. "She's meant to live in salt water."

  Dove kissed the baby on the forehead. "She's meant to live with her family in our home," he said. "Here on the island. I won't leave you, Polyp, and you won't leave me. Is that a deal?"

  No answer.

  "Is that a deal?" Dove repeated, clenching his fists. He wanted signed papers, a contract with this devil's creature that she wouldn't drift off to sea again, leaving him in the Hell of abandonment.

  Polyp moaned, then collapsed against the edge of the washbasin.

  Rowynne gasped and then ran forward. She picked up Polyp under her arms, then hoisted her into a reclining position.

  "What are you doing?" Dove demanded.

  "Saving your beloved," Rowynne answered as she made her way up the stairs.

  "No!" Dove realized Rowynne's intentions and ran up the stairs after her. But his skinny legs couldn't carry him as fast as the determined girl.

  With Polyp in her arms, Rowynne bounded to the shore. She bent down to lay the mermaid in an oncoming wave. Without so much as a "thank you," the mermaid splashed into deeper water.

  Dove arrived, panting and gasping. "What have you done?"

  "She needed to be free, Dove. More than she needed you. More even than the boy needs her." Rowynne indicated Polyp's son, still in Dove's arms.

  "That's not true." Dove shoved his son into Rowynne's arms, cupped his hands around his mouth, and called, "Polyp! Polyp!" He stood there calling her name for hours.

  Rowynne sat in the sand, rocking the baby. When Dove's voice gave out, she stood and put a hand on his shoulder. Without a word, they walked together back to the cellar. By the time they reached it, they were holding hands.

  "Mr. Alastaire?" Rowynne breathed. "Are you all right sleeping here tonight?"

  "Call me Dove," he responded with a wry smile. It was the first of many smiles the two would share.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dove awakened to the sound of his wife singing sweetly to their son, River. He slipped out of bed, kissed her, and went out to bring home some breakfast for the boy.

  On his walk along La Señora Mística, he thought he saw the glimmer of a red fishtail in the water. But perhaps it was his imagination.

  He realized he was following the red glimmer, or what he thought was a red glimmer, towards the sandy shore. He stood with the toes of his boots nearly in the water and listened to the ringing song of a mystical creature out there somewhere, probably dancing with dolphins. He wondered if she was calling him back to drown with her in passion once more.

  Presently, Rowynne was at his side, cradling the baby in her arms. Her bare toes wriggled in the wet sand. "I think she's saying thank you," she said.

  And even though Dove had been thinking along completely different lines, he agreed. "You're welcome," he sang across the waves. "And someday you should come back and see our son."

  Dove took the baby from Rowynne's arms and caressed him with such tenderness Rowynne thought she might cry. Instead, she took his arm and the two walked back home with their son.

  Ocean Girl

  Chapter One - Luna

  I wait until everyone in the grotto is asleep before venturing to my cave with my scientific journal in hand. I swim through the shallow water, the tip of my tail brushing the rocky bottom. Silently, I greet the souvenirs of past discoveries: the silver container with the words "Soda Pop" printed on it in garish hot pink, the moss-grown straw head covering, and my favorite, the old box on four legs with the square window that snows black and white dots when I press a circular button on the box. Today, though, it doesn't snow. Instead, a fuzzy picture comes onto the screen. Slowly, it sharpens.

  I see a two-legged man and a woman in a sequined dress. They are holding one another by the shoulders. Spotlights follow them as they move across the stage in synchrony, shimmying and shaking to the static-y music that begins to emanate from the box. The woman splits her legs on the floor, reaching up to take the ma
n's hands. He pulls her up to stand in a dramatic pose as the music ends.

  Roaring applause and shrill cheering follow. Suddenly, I have a new goal for my life. I want to stand on two legs at the center of the cheering crowd.

  "And that concludes another month of 'Dance 'Til Daybreak,'" a scratchy announcer's voice proclaims. "Who will be next month's winners? Will it be you? If you think you can dance 'til daybreak, please attend our auditions this coming Tuesday, May 10th."

  I jot down the address of the auditions in my scientific journal as it comes up on the screen.

  The image dies, morphing into the old black and white snow again. But I don't mind. I have just enough information to become the next star.

  Chapter Two - Josh

  Sometimes, I love my job. Teaching biology to third graders is fun - except when it isn't. Like when Abel makes Chelsea cry on Monday, and the bell's about to ring, and here I have a child not fit to go home to her parents.

  "What's wrong, Chelsea?" I ask, kneeling to her level.

  "Abel said I can't be a mermaid when I grow up."

  "And?"

  "He told me mermaids don't exist." She sniffles.

  "Of course mermaids don't exist, Chelsea. You're old enough to know that. But it's still okay to dream about them."

  "I'm not dreaming! They're real!"

  "Okay, sweetie," I say, eyeing my watch. I hope Rosie hasn't left yet...

  "Say mermaids are real, Mr. Smith. Say it!"

  What have I been reduced to, being ordered around by an eight-year-old child? "I can't say that to you, sweetie. I'm a biology teacher. It's my job to be scientifically correct." Gently, I put my hand on her shoulder.

  She squirms away.

  "Why don't you ask your English teacher?" I suggest.

  "Good idea!" She skips joyfully into the adjoining room.

  Glad to have solved that problem, I head to Ms. Rosie Jones' fifth grade classroom. I knock on the door.

  "Come in, it's open," calls Rosie.

  So I step inside, careful not to knock over the dioramas perched precariously on the cabinet next to the door. "I have something to ask you," I say, looking out the window at the kids running into their parents' cars.

  "Okay," she says, looking slightly amused. "So say it."

  "Well, I have these two tickets to a shoot of 'Dance 'Til Daybreak' - my brother's involved in the program, and he gave them to me, and I don't have anyone to go with, and I was wondering if... if you wanted to come with me." I scratch the back of my neck, looking at the floor. I've always had such trouble talking to ladies!

  "What day is this?"

  "Tomorrow at 5 pm."

  "Tomorrow? Oh, Josh, you should have asked me earlier." She giggles. "I planned a lot of stuff for this week, and I couldn't possibly do anything tomorrow."

  "Okay. That's totally understandable, I understand... See you tomorrow, Rosie."

  "Yeah," she says, bending over her desk.

  "So I'll just be going now," I say awkwardly. "Bye, Rosie." Without waiting to see if she bothers to return my farewell, I march to the door and step out into the hallway.

  I can't believe I ever thought Rosie might like me. For all I know, she's got a boyfriend. A handsome, tall, muscular boyfriend who drives a Ferrari and teaches at a college.

  Well, it's still okay to dream, Josh, I tell myself. You just keep dreaming about getting a girl.

  Chapter Three - Luna

  I stuff my purse with seaweed crackers and pull on my pink silk shawl. I don't know when - even if - I'll be home tonight.

  As I prepare to leave the grotto, Mother touches my shoulder, scaring me half to death. "Going somewhere?" she asks with a knowing smile.

  "Yes," I sigh, too tired to lie. "I was going to see the sea witch."

  "Jellica? Why would a good girl like you be going to see her?"

  "Maybe I want to be more than just your good little girl, Mother," I snap. "Maybe I want to be famous. And in order to be a star, I need some - er, bodily alterations."

  "Oh, you're going to have her give you legs?"

  I nod, blinking back tears. Not only are my plans ruined, but now I'm sure to be humiliated in front of my whole family. This is so the story of my life.

  "Don't bother," says Mother. "I have what you need right here." She turns to rummage in a small cave and brings out a pair of silver slippers. They're high-heeled, like the shoes the woman was wearing in the TV show I saw. Intricate white swirls decorate the outsides.

  "When I was young, I wished to try out being a human for a few days," she explains. "Jellica made these slippers for me from a bubbling cauldron. When you put them on your fins, the slippers turn them into feet. You'll have legs, too, of course - everything a human has." She shakes her head in disgust. "Why you would want that is beyond me - but then again, I wanted it once as well." She hands me the slippers. "Enjoy yourself, Luna. Learn something. But above all, be careful!"

  "Yes, Mother," I call over my shoulder. I'm already headed out of the grotto.

  "And come back within three days, okay? I want you to be home for Uncle Bayou's birthday."

  "Got it!" Three days should be more than enough time to make me a star. After all, my big break is tomorrow night.

  I make my way to the cave. I sit in the shallow water amidst the rocks and hermit crabs, holding the slippers in my hand. I take a moment to look at all the human stuff, brushing the box with the antennae with my hand. All the years of collecting have been leading up to this moment, though I didn't know it back then.

  Then I slip my fins into the tiny silver slippers. At once, my fins begin to grow heavy and block-like - this must be what human feet look like! I wiggle the ten appendages poking off the two feet.

  Soon, my green tail begins to split and change color, turning the same milk chocolate brown as the rest of my skin.

  I stand in the water for a second. Then I collapse to the ground. Standing is hard! I try again, but it feels like a million pounds of pressure are bearing down on my two small feet, so I crawl to the shelf where I kept the sundress. It's still fresh and clean despite the barnacles attached to its home in the cave. I have a feeling the pure white will contrast well with my dark skin and hair, helping me make a good impression onstage. So I slip it on and walk into town. Well, more like crawl into town. I'll have to work on my dancing skills and master walking before 5 pm. tomorrow night.

  Chapter Four - Josh

  I settle into my seat as the director anxiously runs around the stage, hustling dancers to their places. More audience members file in, including a tall blonde who looks like a supermodel. She leaves one chair between herself and me.

  The lights over my head dim to black as the announcer walks out on stage. I clap and cheer as enthusiastically as the rest of the fans. When the applause dies down, he says, "Welcome to another season of 'Dance 'Til Daybreak!' Thirty dancers... one grand prize. Who will win it? Stay right here to find out."

  Then the auditions begin. Most of the dancers are pretty good - better than I could ever hope to be. I note the spins and leaps the men execute, so I can look up online tutorials for these moves later.

  Most of the women are tall, slender, and attractive. Eventually, one comes on who fits this description, but she isn't like the others. Her terrified face is free of makeup, and her black hair flows loosely past her shoulders. She wears a simple white sundress that shows off her shapely legs. Her silver slippers glitter in the artificial light. As she stumbles to center stage, it strikes me that I'm in love. True love, for the first time in my life.

  One thing is clear: this woman is no dancer. When the music starts, she attempts to stroll gracefully across the stage and ends up tripping over her own feet and sliding like a penguin on ice. She scrambles to stand, her cheeks red, and tries to spin. Apparently dizzy, she twirls right off the stage and tumbles to the ground in front of the audience.

  "What's going on here?" The director runs up to her, and the cameras follow him as he kneels down an
d roughly lifts the girl's chin. "Do you know you're wasting precious air time? Do you even know how to dance? How did you get into this session?"

  She mumbles an answer.

  His face is turning the color of an apple a student once gave me.

  But before he can abuse the young lady further, I find myself standing and making my way to the front of the room. I crouch down and place my hand on the girl's shoulder. "Come with me," I say. "I'll take you home."

  Chapter Five - Luna

  "So where is home?" he asks when we get outside.

  I point vaguely in the direction of the ocean, wiping my eyes with my other hand.

  "You live on Seaside Lane?" he interprets.

  "You don't want to see where I live," I tell him truthfully. "It would probably freak you out."

  "I don't mind a little mess," he assures me. "I used to live in a pigsty when I shared a room with my brother."

  "I refuse to show you my house," I say, my voice wavering. "I'm a weirdo. Why don't you just leave me here and go on home yourself?"

  "Hey, that's a good idea," he says, and for one hopeful moment I believe he's actually going to leave me in solitude to wallow in my misery. "Why don't you come to my house?"

  "Oh, all right," I concede. I can tell he's not going to leave me alone. Besides, I kind of like his cropped brown hair and friendly face. He's not tall enough for me, but I wouldn't mind spending the evening gazing into those hazel eyes, which look at me with concern behind his glasses. It might distract me from the fact that my dreams have crumbled to ruin.

  His name is Josh, he tells me. I can't resist giggling a little at the funny sound. He doesn't get mad, just smiles at me. I want to wipe the concern off his eyebrows. We walk through the neighborhood in the fading light, stopping for those boxes on wheels that Josh calls cars.

  "Here we are," he says when we get to a tall apartment building with peeling paint and dying plants at the front gate. "Home sweet home."

  He leads me into a small apartment and flicks a switch on the wall. The room is flooded with light. It's a pretty tidy room, with a yellow sofa and a fancy new box sitting on a small table that's kind of like mine in the cave.

  "I didn't have the time to cook anything today, so I guess I'll order a pizza," he sighs.

  After a short speech into something he calls "the phone," he says, "might as well turn on the radio while we're waiting." He presses a button on a black machine, and music starts emanating from it. It's not like the music I hear in the ocean, with the wailing gulls and moaning whales. This music is very planned and patterned - and I like it.