~
Over the next few days Megan, Cruz and I became mermaid experts. We spent hours speculating about Lorelei and her possible story. We walked down to the ship several times but had no luck spotting her again. The three of us drew closer, bound by the knowledge of our shocking secret. I fretted about the fact that I alone could hear her and it piqued my curiosity; now I had to find out more about her.
We usually spotted the surfers on our mermaid hunting expeditions, and I couldn’t help searching for Ethan among them. I was more curious about him than ever, but now I had mortifying memories of being plucked from the sea like a drowned rat to dwell on. He and Megan had attended lots of classes in common over the years, and I coaxed some information out of her, trying not to be too obvious. I knew she was aware of my interest, but she mercifully stopped teasing me about it so much.
Like me, Ethan had been raised by a single father, and I knew it was foolish, but somehow I felt like I knew something about him, something personal. He lived down by the harbor in a row of apartment houses that looked out over the sea. His father ran a charter boat, taking tourists out fishing, whale watching and on sunset cruises. Ethan was an expert surfer who competed in local surfing competitions and had won several. I gathered that he was a hard worker, because in addition to running the market stand on Sundays, he managed our landscaping as well as the yards of a few of our neighbors.
I learned that he had seriously dated a popular senior girl last year who had broken up with him when she was accepted into an east coast college. Megan theorized that this had broken his heart, since he hadn’t dated anyone else since then. I kept thinking about the tall mean blonde. She certainly seemed very interested in him.
The more time I spent in Aptos, the more elaborate my oceanic dreams grew. I didn’t tell Megan and Cruz about them because they almost always included Ethan. I began to have dreams we were surfing together, which was about the least likely thing I could imagine myself doing. I was surprised at how quickly thoughts and images of him had wormed their way into my subconscious mind.
I sent my dad a few e-mails informing him I was fine and telling him how much I liked Aptos. I wanted to put his mind at ease while he was working so hard. He had written back, describing village life and his living situation. It sounded pretty primitive, and I had to admit I was glad that he’d sent me to live with Abby and Cruz. The now familiar smells and sounds of the ocean agreed with me, and my morning beachcombing had become a pleasant routine; I was starting to feel like I had lived here forever–like I belonged.
I slept in on the last day of freedom before school was scheduled to begin, rising late to a bright sunny Sunday morning. I peered out my window to see Abby practicing yoga in the garden. It looked like a nice day to be outside. I dressed and went to the kitchen for some breakfast.
“Hey sunshine, wanna go to the farmer’s market this morning?” Abby said cheerfully, bursting in through the back door.
“No thanks,” I answered, shy about the prospect of coming face to face with Ethan. The last time I had seen him I was puking my guts out and fainting. I flushed with shame when I thought about it.
“You could thank Ethan for saving your life,” she said slyly. She did have a point about gratitude.
“Would you do it for me? I mean, just tell him I really appreciated his help,” I pleaded, looking up from my cereal. “He must think I’m such an idiot.”
“Marina, you didn’t see how worried he was when he brought you home,” she scolded me. When she looked into my stricken eyes she softened. “Don’t worry honey, I’ll let him know.”
After Abby left I cleaned up the kitchen and wandered out to the beach. Cruz was working and Megan was back-to-school shopping with her mom. I was on my own.
The beach was always crowded on Sundays, and since this was the last day before school started it was particularly busy. I picked my way through the umbrellas and beach towels crowding the dry sand, wrinkling my nose at the mingled aromas of suntan lotion and cigarette smoke. People playing with Frisbees shared the wet sand with headphone-wearing joggers. Dogs splashed into the surf to retrieve sticks, bounding out of the ocean to shake off great arching sprays of cold water, rudely drenching unsuspecting sun worshippers.
I walked through a chorus of blasting boom boxes and past little tribes of children building sand castles at the water’s edge. I smiled, watching them doggedly trying to dig holes to China before finally giving up and filling them with water brought from the sea in colorful plastic buckets.
Heading out towards the ship, I watched a couple of families strolling on the pier and taking pictures of each other leaning against the railings. The last thing I expected to see was Lorelei. Considering her shyness, I knew she wouldn’t be hanging around the ruins on such a busy day.
I was wrong.
When I wandered to the fence and looked down, her head popped up immediately.
“Lorelei!” I blurted out in shock.
She laughed, and it sounded like wind chimes. I looked around, but no one else had noticed her. I scooted to the edge of the chain link and glanced over my shoulder.
“Marina!” she called with a brilliant smile.
“We need to talk,” I stage whispered. She looked over at the edge of the fence.
“Come over here,” she said, with a beckoning wave.
“How?” I wondered, looking behind me to see more and more people coming down the stairs towards us. She smiled, and swimming over to a bobbing sea lion, she whispered something into its ear. Suddenly the sea lions all disappeared underwater. A few seconds later there was a barking commotion on the opposite side of the boat. All the people ran across the deck to get a look at what was going on. I could see them pointing and laughing at whatever the sea lions were doing. No one looked in our direction.
Sheesh, she can talk to animals, I thought. She gestured for me to come around the fence, which extended out over the water to prevent just that. I set my bag down on the deck and looked around again.
Gathering my courage, I clung onto the wire, slipping the toes of my ballet flats into the links step by step. The sea lion commotion continued as I slowly picked my way around the fence. For a split second it occurred to me that this was a really dumb idea, but curiosity triumphed over rationality and I kept going. Once I had maneuvered around and climbed down onto a concrete chunk she swam close.
“Come!” she said, beckoning me into the water.
“But I can’t swim!” I exclaimed.
“I can swim for you,” she said, and before I could protest she scooped me up like Ethan had and flung us into the surf. The water was shockingly cold, and we stayed under for much too long. When we surfaced I was gasping for air. We had cleared the boat by a good fifty yards and were further out to sea than even the surfers went.
“I know a place we can go,” she said, and with a tight grip on me dove under again. My mind raced. I had read legends of mermaids who maliciously drowned humans. I knew I was going to die and they would probably chalk it up to another sleeper wave. Ethan would really think I was an idiot. I thought of how sad my father would be. We broke through the surface again.
“Stop!” I managed to gasp before we went under again.
Now I was really afraid. I tried to pry her hands off of me but the glacial water was rushing by so quickly that I could barely move. I held my breath as long as I could and just as the dizziness set in we broke through the surface. She grinned at me, and then noticing my terrified expression, paused.
“I … I need to breathe,” I gasped. “Air,” I added.
She smiled again, wild and beautiful. “I know,” she said, and dove underwater with me. This time she came up a bit sooner.
“Wait!” I screeched, “I need to breathe more often!!!”
“Oh,” she said, and then held me above the surface as we sped along. With each powerful stroke of her fin we were propelled at least twenty feet. I was so frozen with cold I couldn’t protest. We finally reache
d a buoy floating far, far from shore.
I grabbed onto the buoy while she hovered next to it, treading water with her powerful fin. There was an odd collection of objects draped and tied onto it. I recognized scissors, golf balls and an old hairless baby doll. The binoculars I had given Lorelei were dangling there, along with my soggy leather jacket.
The buoy looked like a piece of modern art I saw at a museum once. My vision doubled and I began to have trouble focusing.
“Let’s talk,” she said, giddily.
My body was involuntarily shuddering and my teeth were chattering uncontrollably, but I managed to get out, “L-L-Lorelei, I’m t-too cold. M-must g-go back.”
“But the wave riders stay in the water a long time,” she pouted, disappointed.
“T-they have w-wet suits to k-keep them warm,” I said through gritted teeth. She looked puzzled. “T-the black s-suits–”
“Oh,” she said, crestfallen. I could see she understood.
“P-P-please take me back … now.”
She looked disappointed and, taking me by the waist again, started to swim back to shore. I couldn’t feel my legs anymore and a pleasant warmth crept through my body. I stopped shivering.
“Lorelei …”
“Yes,” she said, swimming without the slightest evidence of exertion.
“Why did you call me sisthter?” I asked, slurring my words. My vision was starting to blacken at the edges.
She paused for a moment and then said, “You were born of one like us.” She smiled. “And so you are a sister.” The blackness descended upon me totally.
~
I was happily swimming in a turquoise ocean, surrounded by dolphins that were leaping and twirling all around me in the water. I skimmed across the ocean floor, past the broken columns of an ancient civilization. When I surfaced, the warm rays of the sun washed over me …