apartment, thinking so hard that it almost gave her a headache.
She stopped suddenly, her waist length hair continuing to flow past her in her wake. She had an idea. How had she not thought of it before now? She snatched her cell phone from her coffee table and called her father. He was the handiest merman around.
The phone rang over and over, and she began to swim-pace around her living room again. Finally, her father’s voicemail message began to play and she stopped swimming and hung up her cell phone. She just did not do voicemails. She decided to call her mother and hope that she was with her father. The phone rang for only a fraction of a second before her mother answered. The telephone was serious business to her mother.
“Hello?” the mermaid’s mother said in a watery voice on the other end of the telephone line.
“Hey mom, is dad around?” She realized as soon as she said this that it was not the right thing to say. Her mother was one for ceremonious small talk when it came to phone calls, and such small talk could not be skipped.
“Oh…. I suppose you don’t want to speak to your mother, I’ll go fetch your father and we can just talk when it’s convenient for you…”
“It’s not that, mom! I just… I’m in the middle of something and I need dad’s help. I’m sorry,” the mermaid said apologetically.
“I don’t hear from you for weeks at a time, and when I do, it’s so that you can talk to your father. You realize why I’m upset, right?” her mother said in a shaky voice.
The mermaid sighed a long, audible sigh and asked, “How are you, mother?”
Her mother’s tone changed instantly. “I’m just doing swell, honey! I’ve spent the whole morning tidying up the cave, and I’m about to go outside and clip my seaweed plants in the garden. You should see my seaweed, dear, it is absolutely thriving! You simply have to come over for seaweed salad when it’s time to harvest.”
The mermaid rolled her eyes and said, “That sounds lovely mom.”
“Why do you need to talk to your father anyway?” her mother asked, with an investigative tone in her voice. She was a notorious snoop.
“My old VCR isn’t working and I was hoping he could help me fix it. I really want to watch ‘Escape From The Aquarium: Mermaid’s Revenge’ again.”
“Oh, honey,” her mother said in an almost infuriating mock-worrying voice. “Why do you watch the same old movies over and over?”
“Because they’re good and I notice new things every time.”
“I think it would really be beneficial if you tried something new every now and then.”
“I do, mom,” the mermaid groaned. “But everything new I try stinks.”
“And why do you still use that old VCR anyways? I got you a perfectly good DVD player for your birthday three years ago, and the last time I was at your apartment I saw that it was still in the box! Explain that, missy!”
The mermaid sighed heavily into her cell phone, and answered, “It’s just not the same, mom! It’s not all about the ease of use, or the improved formatting or picture quality, or the availability of titles…”
“What is it about, then? Why don’t you tell me why it’s so important for a grown mermaid to still rely on an old, worn out VCR for entertainment?” her mother asked in a tone that clearly illustrated the fact that no possible explanation would change her mind on the subject.
“It’s like I just said… It’s not all about the movie itself, it’s about the way I watch it. I like to pull the video tape from the box, slide it through the little slot in the VCR, and hear all the little motors and gears whirr and spin as the movie plays. I like to see the static where the tape is worn out. I even like rewinding the movies at the end! It’s the ritual of the thing that is appealing, not the movie quality itself.”
“The ritual...?” her mother asked disbelievingly.
“Yes, mom, the ritual. The act is just as important as the reward to some. That’s why some smokers have trouble quitting cigarettes. They miss the ritual just as much, if not more, than the nicotine itself.”
“Are you smoking, dear?” her mother asked angrily.
“What? No, mom, you’re missing the point.” The mermaid was quite sure that her mother had actually been following her argument, but had realized that there was no winning it for her and had changed the subject.
“Because if you’re smoking…. Well that’s just no good. Why would a young, beautiful mermaid with her whole life ahead of her smoke in this day and age?”
“I’m not smoking, mom. I just told you that. I was only using it as a metaphor to –”
“You’ll age prematurely, you know? Just look at your aunt. She smoked a pack of Mermaid Slims per day for twenty years, and look how much older she looks than me! We’re the same age, for crying out loud!”
The mermaid glanced at her mantel at a family photo. Her aunt certainly had aged much faster, but that was beside the point. This was not about smoking, and she had to get past it. “You’re right, mom. Smoking is bad.”
“Honey, you’ll never believe what the neighbor’s seahorse did in my seaweed patch the other day,” her mother said, changing subjects and demeanor so fast that the mermaid’s head began to spin. “I swear, if I catch that rascal one more time, I’m going to - ”
“So, mom, is dad around?” the mermaid asked, cutting her mom off midsentence. It was absolutely imperative to her to get her VCR fixed on this stormy day. “I wish I could chat but I really need to talk to dad.”
“Fine. That’s fine. I’ll get him,” her mother said passive aggressively, sighing hard and putting down the phone before she could hear her daughter’s repeated apologies. She really did not want to hurt her mother’s feelings, but she would be on the phone all day if she did not get to the point quickly. The mermaid could hear her mother calling out for her father over the phone, her voice echoing off the walls of their cave home. She reflected sadly that it had been far too long since she had been home to her parent’s cave, the cave she had grown up in. She decided to visit soon. Not today though… today was devoted to VCR’s and relaxation. Besides, she would need a few days to cool off from the phone call with her mother.
“Hello? Sweetie? Are you there?” a deep, gurgling voice said through the telephone.
“Hey, dad,” the mermaid said, quickly exiting her reminiscences about her parent’s cave and refocusing on her VCR. “My VCR isn’t working and I was hoping you might be able to talk me through fixing it.”
“Hmmm,” her father said pensively. “I’ll see what I can do. What is the problem?”
“Alright,” the mermaid began, taking a deep breath. “The VCR will turn on, but when I put the video tape in, it won’t play. It makes a whirring sound but the movie never starts. Is there anything I can do? Is there a part that needs to be replaced or something?”
Her question was met with a long silence. That was a good sign though. It meant that her father was giving the matter his full attention and reviewing all the options. The mermaid had grown to realize that silence, in some circumstances, could be much more valuable than any words. In this moment, it put her at ease knowing that her problem would likely be solved soon. Finally, the silence was broken.
"It sounds like the loading motor could be the culprit," he said solemnly.
"The loading motor... Okay. What is the solution?" the mermaid asked.
"Well, it's a small electrical component. Repair is an unlikely solution for a part like that. You could replace the motor, providing that the motor is still being produced of course... You could likely find one online, either new or used. However, given the fact that VCR's were once very popular, and also that they are no longer desirable - to some," he added quickly. "Your quickest and easiest solution would be to get a whole new VCR from a thrift shop. It would likely cost as much as the loading motor alone, you could get it today if you wanted, you wouldn't have to install the motor yourself, and, if I'm wrong about the loading motor being the culprit, it wouldn't waste
time and money in ordering and trying to install one only to realize that it was another issue all along."
The mermaid was unhappy to hear that her time with her beloved VCR was likely coming to an end, but was endlessly appreciative of her father's mechanical knowledge and methodical thought processes and patience.
"Thanks, dad," the mermaid said.
"You're welcome, honey. And one more thing," her father said, sounding somewhat distracted all of the sudden. It sounded like someone was talking to him. "Don't smoke, honey. It's very bad for you."
"I don't smoke!"
"That's not what your mother is telling me. Do you want to end up looking like your aunt?" he asked half-heartedly.
"Well, no, but it doesn't matter because I don't smoke. Mom misunderstood a smoking metaphor I made when comparing the appeals using a VCR to the ritualistic behaviors that some smoker's find addictive," the mermaid said in one long, exasperated breath.
"Huh... Alright then, dear," her father said, taking her word for it. It was becoming clear that he was goaded into the subject in the first place. "Remember, replacement VCR or loading motor. Love you, sweetie."
"Love you too, dad."
The mermaid hung up the phone and wondered when, or if, her parents would stop treating her like a merchild and start treating her like a grown mermaid. That did not matter at the moment though. What did matter was that she had options, and possibly solutions.
She opened