Come, Sing My Song

by Brandy Dewinter
(Copyright 1999)

 

Come! Come to me!
Let me sing my song for you.
Come and dream with me. 

Can you hear my voice floating on the wind?
Can you believe in the song you hear? 

Come, come to me.
Let me sing my song for you.

 

*******************************************

 

In the year of our Lord 17 and 42, I came into such inheritance as I could expect out of life. It was accomplished with a minimum of bother, and truth to tell, a minimum of grief. My mother had died in childbirth and it would not be unkind to say that my father had tolerated me more than cared for me. He was a seaman, captain and owner of a small inter-island trader, with little time for a child. I was never sure just how I got through my first few years of existence. Surely he would not bother with a nursing infant. My first clear memories were instead of life in a small pen aboard his ship, treated with the same care that was bestowed on such cattle or other livestock as we might be transporting. At least my pen was in the main cabin rather than the hold.

My father’s vessel, the Celeste, was a gaff-main cutter that could be handled by one man, but really required a crew for safety. One man would just get too tired on the several days we would spend shuttling back and forth among the islands of the Caribbean. As a result, a succession of crewmen were as much family as my own father, raising me in the ways of the sea, and of seamen. My father, grant him this, taught me my letters and such figuring as would be required to continue as master of the Celeste when that duty fell to me. That I might prefer some other career never occurred to him, nor, truth to tell, to me.

The ways of seamen are not limited to actions performed at sea. As soon as I sprouted nether hair, before I even had a beard, actually, a crewman whose name I forget introduced me to the pleasures available in a port city. I never noticed the coincidence until afterwards, but that was when Father started paying me a small wage as a deckhand. He did not ask what I did with my wages. His only requirement on me after my in-port duties were completed was that, like the other crewmen, I reported on board when it was time to sail.

In the year of my sixteenth birthday, the aforementioned 17 and 42, I became a full-fledged crewman and my Father took on no other hands. We sailed watch and watch throughout those waters, no more and no less familiar with each other in our isolation than we had been when I was confined to my toddler pen. My isolation became absolute as well as figurative when I came on deck for the midwatch one moonless night in June.

The deck was empty. We had a small steering vane rigged to hold the ship on a steady tack. This was engaged. Father and I would do this whenever we needed to leave the wheel to take care of some shipboard duty not requiring both of us. Of Father himself, there was no sign. Our ship had lifelines rigged and he had made it clear that it was safer to tie oneself to the ship whenever one was away from the wheel. However, except in heavy weather he never bothered and myself even less. I surmised some rogue wave or errant breeze had caused him to fall over-board as I slept, a loss that surprisingly seemed to touch my heart though I suppose an outside observer would not have known. I had been too long in Father’s shadow to show emotion openly.

Though I had not been sleeping all that deeply I had heard no cry. Ever since that night I have wondered if he did indeed cry out. In my mind is an image of him, realizing as he fell that there was little chance of being found on that dark night, and deciding one more time not to intrude into my life more than efficiency required.

At sixteen years of age I was not prepared for a life of business. After disposing of our cargo, now my cargo, at the next destination I abandoned the rest of Father’s planned itinerary. The money that he would have used to fund another cargo purchase was instead put to better use in the taverns and other entertainments of the south coast of Jamaica. This was not total foolhardiness, as carrying a cargo on consignment was nearly as profitable as buying and selling the shipment myself. The only problem was finding a suitable cargo and a merchant willing to entrust it to me. But that was a concern which I would address at a later time.

That later time never became necessary, for well before my money ran out a friend I had just met offered me an opportunity tailor made for my youthful enthusiasm. He had a map to buried pirate treasure, lost for nigh on a hundred years among the many small islands of the Windward chain. The legends of such treasures as this had been a staple of my education since I had learned to speak, and I accepted it as confidently as I accepted the truth of the charts Father had always used for navigation. It was my great fortune that my new-found friend was a bit down on his luck at the moment, and needed to sell the map rather than pursue the treasure himself, and for only the half of my remaining funds.

The other half of my money was used to outfit the Celeste for an extended solo cruise. My food needs were simple, though Father had emphasized sufficiently the importance of fresh fruit to ward off scurvy and in this one way I was careful. So, with extra water storage and the best self-steering gear available in Jamaica, I set off to gather up the pirate treasure left lying on an isolated beach. True, according to the notes on the map, getting past the reef to that beach would present some hazards, but none that I could not handle. I was, after all, literally born to the sea.

Unfortunately, what had seemed quite clear on the map and associated sailing instructions was not as easily recognized from the deck of the Celeste as we sailed in our search. Time and again I would find some correlation between features on the map and landmarks, only to find yet other features fail to materialize. It was well for me that my needs were simple, for it was a year, as best I could figure, before I found my destination.

The island which finally seemed to match my needs was made distinct by the high cliffs which surrounded all sides but one. That one side offered an approach at least as hazardous as promised by the sailing instructions I had paid for so long before. Twin extensions of the mountainous cliffs acted as great breakwaters for a lagoon that was treasure enough in its own right. Calm waters and a brilliant beach beckoned from just past the encircling arms of the fortress cliffs.

I had not survived as long as I had in the islands without gaining a due respect for hidden dangers, yet the waters were clear enough to made the dangers of a close approach an acceptable risk. The bottom a league from the breakwater was 4 or 5 fathoms deep, and even a rapid shoaling would surely allow me to get within a cable or so of the inviting lagoon.

My first warning that the dangers of the island were greater than I had expected was when the Celeste started to surge toward the opening. Some rush of current that was not predictable, given the apparently closed nature of the lagoon beyond, sucked us toward the narrow gap in the cliffs with greater speed than we had ever achieved in free water. Greater, in fact than we could achieve as we attempted to escape the ever-increasing draw of the island. Even on a broad reach, the best point of sail for my little cutter, we could not hold our own against the relentless current. Eventually, I was forced to admit this and tacked to try and align the Celeste with the opening to the lagoon, actually backing through the gap that I had intended to sail through.

Or, at least most of the way through the gap. My sole notice of doom was a rending crash that converted our brisk though undesired stern-way into a dead stop. Then not so dead as waves from the previously calm sea started to lift the Celeste and slam her against whatever obstacle had captured us. In moments she was holed in several places and helplessly foundering.

On resounding smash tossed me clear of the deck and into the raging torrent that had seemed so calm from the outer vantage point. In the manner of many of my contemporaries, I was not a good swimmer, but I resolved to try and make the beach, shedding sea boots along with all other gear I had about my person. It was not to be.

Father had never been a religious man, and so neither was I. Yet, as I felt myself slipping under the water again and again, never able to catch a full breath, I found myself praying with fervor to match any devoted priest. Any devoted priest at all, for my prayers were not limited in creed or form. In the end, I offered myself to anyone who would listen, crying with my final breath, "Dear Gods, help me!"

My first thought when I regained consciousness was that some god had indeed aided me. I was on the beach, as evidenced by wet sand under my cheek rather than water, yet saved from drowning. My second thought was a rejection of the foolish notion of supernatural intervention, placing my gratitude instead to wind and wave for completing what my limited swimming skills had begun.

As I gained greater awareness, I realized some manner of sea growth had apparently made the trip with me, ending draped about my head and shoulders. When I tried to rise to get a better appreciation of my situation, I was impeded by yet more weed, this bound about my legs so tightly that I could not separate them an inch. With some effort and some very irreligious thoughts, I managed to roll over to look at what was restricting my legs. What I saw when I looked down my body caused me to scream with a pitch I had not heard since I was a child, and then pass out dead away.

 

*What a terrible nightmare,* I thought, as I began to awake. *Losing the Celeste. Nearly becoming drowned. And the rest! I have definitely been too long alone. I think I’ll sail for a port and some attractivecompany.*

That thought was a bit incongruous, I realized, since I was waking up on a beach, in the rain. It was not my first time to wake up on a beach, nor even on a beach in the rain, but I didn’t remember anchoring my ship, so I should have been at sea.

My morning stretch should have been an easy, languorous transition from oblivion to awareness, but it was cut short by a renewed recognition that my legs would not move apart. I snapped up and looked down my body again, to find myself in that very nightmare of my dream, all too real.

Where once I had possessed slim legs, lanky with youth, I now saw a fish’s tail. Not the scales of a gilled fish, but the smooth skin of a dolphin, and with flukes turned to support a vertical rather than side-to-side stroke. The flukes themselves were a glossy black, shading to a shining sea-green about my knees, or at least what would once have been my knees. Continuing my self-inventory revealed that the shape above my knees swelled into a set of hips that were decidedly wider than those I had thought to call my own, then a waist that was of even stranger proportion, though this time being much too narrow. And then . . . And then my eyes fell upon a shape, or pair of shapes that I had often admired in others, but never thought to see sprouting from my own form. My soul cried out to go back to sleep, to return to the hope that this was all a dream, but a part of me knew that I was all too awake.

"Welcome back," I heard someone say in a voice that was high and sweet like the ringing of the purest silver bells.

Sitting a few feet to the side, half in the water and half leaning on a boulder protruding from the sand, was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. In other circumstances, that would have been cause for jaw-dropping shock in its own right, but in light of what had been done to me the competition for staggering impact was just too fierce. Still, she was spectacular enough to distract me for a moment from my own situation. It was as though she were the very essence of femininity. Take any feature one would associate with a pretty girl and make it just that bit more perfect than mortal imagination could have created. Her eyes were just that bit larger, without seeming at all out of proportion. Her lips just that bit too full, yet by demonstration setting a new standard for perfection. Her figure, what I could see of it above the water, flowed with grace in a complex yet always harmonious symphony of shapes beyond even the limits of human fantasy. All this was apparent in a glance, as her lovely contours were not obscured by any manner of clothing at all. It was only in her coloring that she seemed to have a limitation. She was pale, as though untouched by the sun. Her hair was white, her eyes such a faint blue that they could scarcely claim any color at all.

"Who are you?" I asked, and heard again that childish sound from my nightmare. Though, as it echoed in my mind, I knew it was not childish at all, but only higher than my masculine tones had any right to be.

"I am Aegina," she declared. "And you are . . . ?"

An errant gust pulled at some of that weed that surrounded my face, and as I moved to brush it away my eyes fell on the gap in the surrounding wall that defined the lagoon. There was no sign of my ship.

"Celeste," I cried with the longing of an orphan for my only home.

"Hello, Celeste," the woman said with a welcoming smile.

"What? No, I’m . . . " but my voice trailed off as I realized I was nothing. No family. No ship. No home. No body, at least not the one I had thought was my own.

"How?" I whispered.

"When you called to the gods, they allowed me to help," she, Aegina, explained. "You were drowning. All I could do to save you was to give to you a part of myself."

With that, she lifted herself higher onto the boulder against which she had been resting and showed a shape like that which imprisoned my own legs. In her case, her . . . tail was scaled, shimmering with a gleam of silver that caught the reflection of everything around us in a multitude of tiny mirrors. She carefully arranged the tip of her tail so that it would remain immersed regardless of the surge of the waves.

"I am like you," I repeated, dazed beyond comprehension.

"Um, not quite. You’re still partly human, I think," she said. I can’t leave the water or I’ll die, but I think you could. Though, why you’d want to is beyond me. But I’m sure you can breathe water as well as air, and, well, other things."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I told you, I’m Aegina. Haven’t you heard of me? The legends aren’t quite right, but close enough."

"Legends?"

"Surely. My sire was Asopus." Seeing my lack of comprehension, she continued. "Have you heard of Zeus? He, um, found me attractive and brought me to this island."

"I, uh, my education was limited," I said.

"Oh, well, it doesn’t matter," she said, then laughed. "Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together! I’ve been alone for such a long time, and now we’ll both be here."

"Stay here, like this?" I said. "No, I can’t stay like this. I’ve got to . . . "

My plan was interrupted by the look of utter sorrow that marred Aegina’s flawless features. She turned away, shoulders slumping in a message or dejection no less eloquent for its silence.

"I’m sorry, Aegina, but, well, surely you can understand how much of a shock this if for me," I tried to explain. "I mean, you’re beautiful beyond words, and in other circumstances I’d love to spend time with you, but, well, these circumstances are, um, not . . . "

I ran down without any way to express in words the magnitude of my need to regain all that I had lost.

Aegina, though, seized on one word in my plaint. "Do you really think I’m beautiful?" she asked.

"What? Well, surely. You’re far and away the prettiest woman there has ever been. Or, uh, prettiest, um, . . . mermaid?"

"Oh, but I’m so pale and colorless," she complained. "Even you are more beautiful than me."

Now, in my various occasions to sample the pleasure of port cities, I had often been told that I was handsome. It was reported by those who had known her (never by Father) that I took after my mother more than him. In truth, I knew that I had clean, well-defined features, with a longish neck and pronounced cheekbones that said I had not as yet reached my full growth. Still, beautiful was not a label I had expected to be applied to me. It made me laugh.

My humor caused Aegina’s to return, and her silvery giggle filled the quiet lagoon. As though that were a signal, the gentle rain that she had not even seemed to notice and which in fact had not been bothering me, either, stopped and the sun broke through the clouds. Aegina squinted in displeasure at a brightness I found merely pleasant, then slid down off her rocky perch back into the water.

Her discomfort faded with the cooling touch of the water and she ordered, "Stay here."

"Quite. As though I had any choice," I said, then slumped as the horror of my condition filled me once again.

I spoke to myself, though, as Aegina had slipped the rest of the way into the water and disappeared with barely a splash. In a few moments I saw her returning through the crystalline waters of what was apparently my prison, carrying something in her hand.

She surged up to where I lay on the beach, offering the object to me. It turned out to be a looking glass, cradled in a golden frame. In the mirror, I saw the reflection of a woman of a beauty to match Aegina’s own. In some ways, she was even more attractive. The delicate innocence Aegina wore was not a part of the image I saw. Instead, this woman’s face had an earthy challenge in arched brows and hooded eyes. With sudden insight, I realized what my mother had looked like, now recreated in a visage that would have been of compelling interest, if it were not my very own reflection.

The sea-green eyes that I had used to such advantage in amorous conquests were still there, but my shaggy brown hair had become a fiery red, flowing with surprising thickness considering its still-damp state. Now that I noticed it, I realized Aegina’s silver-white hair was itself much too lively for hair so recently soaked. More magic, obvious now that my attention was called to it. Despite her unclothed appearance, my own body was covered in a greenish tint up to the level of my, uh, God this was so hard to accept, bosom. Similar tints covered my hands and arms up nearly to my shoulders. It had the flavor of a formal gown, such as I had seen on the great ladies as they made their carriage-borne ways about the cities I had visited.

I touched the colored portions of my body, tracing the line where my normal skin color appeared to see if I could feel a discontinuity. Aegina noticed my exploration and offered further explanation.

"I wasn’t sure just what you would feel comfortable with, in your appearance, so I took the image of beauty from your mind. I’m not sure I got it all right, but I had to do something."

"Comfortable? Hardly," I snorted, earning me another expression of sadness that seemed sacrilegious in it’s defilement of the beauty her face could show.

"Look, um, Aegina, it’s not like I don’t appreciate what you did, but, well, surely you can see how much of a shock this is for me."

"Oh, of course," she said, spirits restored as quickly as they had vanished. "Let’s go for a swim. That will perk you up."

"I, uh, I’m not a very good swimmer," I protested.

She looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted wings to go with my fins or something, totally incredulous. Taking the mirror from my hand, she started to wriggle her way into deeper water. I realized that I would have to learn to swim, with this new body, so I followed her example, mindful even as I did it that what seemed positively enticing in her own graceful shimmer seemed impossibly awkward in my own heavy motion.

Until we reached the water.

Once fully supported by the water’s buoyancy, it was as though all weight left me, and with it the need to fight against the pull of Mother Earth. Instead, I floated lightly, graceful despite my ignorance of proper swimming strokes. Aegina’s silver giggle carried to me with even greater clarity than when heard in air, and with a flick of her tail she shot away. I responded instinctively with a flick of my own tail and found myself following her with a speed that would have taken my breath away, if I had any to spare.

Actually, I was not out of breath, for all that I was floating under the water. With the focus of that thought, I realized I was not really breathing the water. Some sort of blockage had occurred in my throat so that while the water filled my mouth and I found I could even swallow if I chose, nothing filled my lungs. More magic, of a kind I couldn’t even try to explain.

That distraction was ended by another which intruded into my still-saturated mind. I had been following Aegina through twists and contortions that would have crippled my old body, and doing it at speed, through the water. At one point, Aegina straightened out in a dash from one side of the lagoon to the other, passing pacing fish with effortless advantage, and through it all I kept up with her. She dove deep, then surged upward, with me still closely pursuing. In an echo of the spirit of competition I had always felt when challenged, I drove even harder, passing her just as we reached the surface.

I launched into the air in a leap of pure joy, unfettered with the limitations of land-dwellers that I had never known existed. Converting my upward motion into an arcing dive with sinuous grace, I re-entered the water with barely a splash to find Aegina’s horrified visage waiting for me.

"Oh, Celeste, I was so afraid for you."

"Why?" I asked, not bothering to correct her on my name. My old one was hardly suitable any more.

"When you left the water, I thought you would die. I would."

"Die?"

"Yes," she explained. "Zeus himself told me that if I ever leave the water, specifically this lagoon, that I will die. He was very serious."

"But I didn’t die," I said. "Have you ever tested it?"

"Oh, no!" she cried. "I wouldn’t dare."

"Well," I said, full of myself after that thrilling leap, "I would dare."

With that, I started swimming toward the cut in the rock wall around the lagoon. Not completely foolhardy, I swam with a pace that seemed leisurely, for all that it was many times faster than I could ever have swum before. From an underwater vantage point, I could see the fangs of rock that guarded the entrance. By one of them, I saw my old ship’s bell, proof that in fact the Celeste was no more. At least, not the wooden one. The strong current that had captured my ship was still there, but I could hold my position against it with little effort and less concentration. Looking at Aegina’s worried face one last time, I increased the power of the strokes from my broad fin and forced my way further through the gap.

And found myself drowning.

In my own, male body.

In that body, I had no hope of fighting the current, and I was quickly swept back into the lagoon, missing the rocks even as another transition returned me to my mermaid form.

"Well, I guess that answers that," I said to Aegina as she swam up.

"See, I told you you couldn’t leave," she said.

"Oh, I can leave, and I can even have my body back," I disagreed, firm determination in my mind and in my voice. "But I need to make better preparations or I’ll just drown again, or be swept back."

With that, and a smile of reassurance, I swam back to the beach. Once there, I hauled myself up on the boulder that Aegina had used for our earlier conversation, and looked at the island that would have to provide my means for escape. A quick lift of my tail from the water, preceded a pause to see if I could transition back to fully-human, male form just by leaving the water, but no such luck was mine. I stayed mermaid. Apparently the curse, for that is what I felt it to be no matter how benevolently cast by Aegina, extended to anywhere on the island.

No matter. I would prevail. I saw several palm trees and decided I would build a raft. Now that I knew the shape of the underwater obstacles, I was confident that I could make my way past them.

"What are you doing?" Aegina asked as I dove back into the water.

"Looking for something to use to cut the trees," I said. "Do you have anything I might use?"

"Maybe," she shrugged, indifference more than sadness in her expression. She turned and led me down to a series of caves under the island, some of which were apparently conduits for the inflow of water into the lagoon for the current led into them. She chose one that had no current, though, and led me inside to a treasure beyond even that I had sought when I embarked on my quest. Any trunks or containers had rotted away, but there were jewels and coins and bullion in a disorderly scatter that covered an area larger than the deck of my destroyed cutter, piled deeper than she could ever have held in her holds.

"Oh, my God, this is incredible!" I cried.

"Why?" she asked.

"There is more wealth here than I thought even existed in the whole world," I shouted. "We’re rich!"

"Rich?" she said with a snort. "And what could we spend this on?"

"What?" I asked, drawing up short.

"What good is this money, with nothing to spend it on?" repeated Aegina.

I looked at the gaudy baubles in my hands, worth enough to buy the Celeste a dozen times over, and the merest drop in the ocean of wealth around us. But there were no Celestes to buy.

"Come," Aegina urged, "I’ll show you the rest."

The rest consisted of a few rusty tools scavenged from whatever wrecks had been captured by the treacherous currents. Unlike fine jewelry and bullion, iron and steel rust all to quickly in the sea environment. Still, there were a few knives and even a pickaxe that still had significant metal. I took the most promising and let Aegina lead me out of the cave.

Back at the surface, I crawled to the line of palms and started hacking my way through the tough layers of one of the trees. My now-delicate hands quickly blistered, and my slender arms had no real strength, but I kept at it until the sun went down. For all that, I had only achieved a cut perhaps a third of the way through the first tree. It was disappointing, to say the least.

Crawling back toward the water, I found a meal spread on the boulder by Aegina.

"What’s this," I asked, grumpy in my frustration.

"I thought you might like something to eat," she said quietly.

Her slender shoulders shook with barely suppressed sobs, and my heart melted from it’s stony anger.

"Oh, Gina, I’m sorry. It’s not you. You’re wonderful. But, I, this, well, this is just not me!"

"I understand," she said.

What could I say? I couldn’t tell her I didn’t want to leave. Yet, I was mindful that she herself was trapped there, at least if the threat she claimed from Zeus was true. I had never been with a girl who cared for me, as a person, any more than I cared for them. The thought that Aegina would regret my leaving was a strange idea to me, even among the shocks of that day.

Not knowing what to say, I turned instead to the mundane, "What have you fixed to eat?"

Aegina made her own obvious resolution to change to a safer topic, and started to explain the various dishes to me. She had gathered up a king’s ransom in golden dishes, then filled them with cold fish, and wet plants from the sea floor. It didn’t look appetizing at all, truth to tell, but I took a few bites just to please her.

And then a few more.

It was delicious. All of it. The plants had a piquant spiciness that was the perfect counter to the firm flesh of the fish. I had heard that in the far away Japans they ate raw fish, but I had never envied them that culinary choice until now. I was soon gobbling the food with unseemly haste, saved from disgusting my beautiful provider only by my obvious appreciation.

All too soon I felt stuffed to the point of discomfort, an obvious bulge showing in my hitherto taut belly. I looked at her with gratitude, and then felt something else. In the light of the full moon shining over the lagoon, Aegina’s pale color looked natural, yet still pure as the finest silver. I reached out with one slender arm, the tinted skin looking like an elegant evening glove, and stroked her shining hair.

"You are very beautiful," I said.

"You are even prettier," she claimed.

At some level I knew I should reject the thought of being pretty, but I found myself taking pride in it instead. I leaned closer, drawn to her so full lips like the most powerful of magnets. My own lips, themselves feeling puffy and full, caressed hers with the gentlest of touches. Her eyes sagged closed as she leaned into me, her own hand capturing my thick mane even as my hands began a sightless exploration of the strange yet familiar shape of her slender form.

At some point we slid off into the water of the lagoon, and I found out how wonderful love can be when the demands of weight are banished. It turns out mermaids need not be celibate. The arrangements are . . . unique, but nonetheless effective for all that. I was pleased that some of the port women had taken the time to show me how to be pleasing even aside from my own needs. And then pleasured as Aegina showed me that she knew tricks no mortal woman could imagine. And for which I was not equipped until I had come to the tranquil lagoon.

When we woke the next morning, I found good news and bad news. The good news was that the various scratches and scrapes I had suffered while dragging myself over the island obstacles had all healed to flawless perfection. The bad news was that my hands were soft and as smooth as their gloved appearance would suggest. That meant I had no hope of building toughened calluses and would face new blisters every day of my task. Still, I faced it resolutely.

Eventually, the palm trees were felled. I planned on three, lashed together for my raft. On breaks from the construction I swam out to the reef and determined the course for my escape, planning on rowing through a narrow area of backflow until clear of the main currents. I remembered another island, not visible through the gap in the cliffs around the lagoon, but close enough to reach while rowing. Once in human form, with real legs, I could quickly fabricate mast and sails to continue my journey. All in all, the plan was feasible.

Though not easy, for the felling of the palms was only the first of many tasks. I had to weave fibers of grass together to make lashings to control the three trunks, and make oars, and make a dozen other things that would be necessary for my escape.

Time passed. I’m not sure how much, exactly. It was many days, then many months. With that awareness of the stars that I had gained from years at sea, I knew I had been on the island at least a year and a half when the raft was completed.

And stuck on the island.

Without legs, I had no leverage to push it into the water. My tail was quite strong, but I could put no load on the flukes. A single attempt provided pain but no progress. So, I had to squat in the sand, digging a hole to hold my doubled tail, and push a heartbreakingly few inches at a time. Aegina, even if she wanted to, could not help. Leaving the water would have meant her death. And so, I struggled alone to move the raft to the waters of the lagoon.

"Celeste," Aegina called.

"What?" I snapped in my frustration.

"I think you had better come look at this," she said.

Something in her tone made me quite concerned, enough to leave off my pushing and wriggle around to the water. It was not fear, at least, not fear for herself, but it was worry of some sort. She was not in water deep enough to require swimming, resting instead just where the bow of my raft had reached the lagoon.

"What’s the matter?"

"Look at the trunk," she directed, pointing.

At first, I didn’t see any problem. The palm trunk was still lashed to each of it’s neighbors, the bindings had not cut into the material with any particular depth. Then I saw her concern.

The trunk of the palm tree was drinking up the water like a thick straw. Already, it was clear that it had absorbed a heavy load of moisture to a point several feet from the waterline. Even as we watched, more of the trunk became saturated, softening to the consistency of the weed that drifted along the bottom of the lagoon. Which was obviously where my waterlogged raft would end up.

For the first time since I had been a child, I collapsed into helpless tears. Aegina put her arms around me, and cuddled me to her bosom like the child I was acting, and I gave into my helplessness with wails of distress beyond words. She drew me out into deeper water where we could float in timeless oblivion, cradled by the water that supported us even as it imprisoned us.

Eventually, even the grief of shattered dreams comes to an end. Of course, Aegina helped. More than words could express. She took care of me while I sulked in the subsequent depression, and never failed to hug me when I needed it, even when I didn’t know that I needed and wasn’t particularly huggable. When I began to show signs of life again, specifically the first time I responded to her offer of intimacy instead of rejecting it (and her, forgive me) she brought me a present from somewhere in the treasure trove. It was a small golden harp, with strings that seemed impervious to water.

"I can’t play this," I said, not angry, just . . . helpless.

"You said you couldn’t swim, too," she reminded me.

"Well, yes, but that was part of the magic," I countered.

Aegina just smiled.

"Why you sneaky, beautiful, lovable, scamp," I laughed. "Is that a part of what you gave me, too?"

"Let’s find out," she offered, then started trilling a pure, sweet melody in her silver-toned voice. I joined in, tentatively at first, but when I realized I could make tones that fit well with hers, I put more of myself into it.

If I do have to say so myself, my voice was at least as good as hers. Perhaps the notes weren’t quite as pure, but the added tones created depth as well, and a richness that even my ears could tell was wonderfully sweet.

Aegina pointed at the harp, and even as we sang, I plucked a few quiet sounds from it. Once I learned its capabilities, I began to strum an accompaniment to our song that danced a light-hearted counterpoint around the melody, not obscuring it with competition but fulfilling it.

After that, song replaced building a raft as my obsession. I don’t know exactly why. Perhaps it was overcompensation, but our routine settled into a life of leisure, at least for me. Yet Aegina never complained as she prepared our meals, which was about the only recurring chore we faced.

Every now and then, perhaps as the result of a distant storm, flotsam and jetsam would enter our lagoon. Sometimes they were trunks of clothes, and we played dress-up. Or, Aegina did. My own tinted skin seemed clothing enough, but the natural look of Aegina’s bosom lended itself to occasional enhancement. It was only occasionally, though, since most fabrics don’t look at all good when soaked in the water, unlike our magically-wavy hair. We also found additional treasure to add to our worthless trove, collected more to keep our lagoon uncluttered than from any sense of value. Wood and steel would rot or rust, but the purity of jewelry endured.

We sometimes did find jewelry to wear, though. I had found a pair of emerald earrings that complemented my own colors very nicely, while Aegina had found an elegant diamond choker that made her neck look particularly delicate. Sometimes we would wear rings or bracelets or whatever else took our fancy, casually draping items worth the wealth of a kingdom about ourselves, before just as casually dropping them back.

"Celeste," Aegina asked, "do you like it here?"

"Of course, Gina," I assured her. Even as I said it, I realized it was true, or at least true enough. I often missed the world outside our lagoon, but other than occasional boredom, I would have to admit that our little world was as near paradise as I was ever likely to see.

"Would you leave if you could?" Aegina continued.

"Surely, wouldn’t you?" I asked in turn. "I mean, it’s wonderful here, but there are so many things in the world that we are missing."

"Like what?"

"Well, like, um, wine," I said with a laugh, thinking back to my life from so long ago. "And, uh, bread. And a thick, juicy steak, roasted to a turn, and . . . "

I ran down as I remembered the perfection of joining with a woman. I wouldn’t have said anything. Aegina was dearer to me than any hundred women of the outer world, but I did sometimes miss that special connection that she and I could never share. She must have seen something in my expression, though, for she turned away to busy herself needlessly rearranging the scattered treasure.

Perhaps, in retrospect, I should have done something to confirm my love for her, but at the time it seemed unimportant. After all, neither of us was going anywhere.

Sometimes we would find dated items in the intruding materials. In this way, I knew though did not particularly care that over a hundred years had passed since my imprisonment when Aegina shook me awake one morning.

"Something’s coming," she said urgently.

"What?" I asked, instantly alert. We were immune to most sea dangers. Even the bite of a shark would eventually heal without scar, and we could swim well enough to avoid any attacks unless cornered. The two of us, with a little help from some of whatever we could grab in our nimble hands, could even drive away a shark in short order. Still, it hurt when we were injured, and we much preferred to head off an attacker rather than be surprised.

"I don’t know," Aegina interrupted my thoughts with a surprising revelation. She ordered me, "Listen."

I had been given, whether I wanted them or not, many years to learn the sounds of the sea and quickly filtered out the expected ones. What was left had a rhythmic thud, accompanied by a quick, repetitious slap that was beyond my experience as well. The sound was obviously coming from the gap in our rock wall, and obviously approaching. Motioning her to pick up a slender knife she had often used, I found one of my own and we swam quickly but silently to the barrier reef at the entrance to the lagoon. A quick hand signal held her in her place, and I drifted upward to see if the noise had a visible source.

I saw a most strange, yet familiar sight. A ship was approaching, still hull down from my vantage a few inches above the water, yet unmistakable. It was not a ship like I had ever seen, though. In place of a spread of canvas, she looked to be on fire, with a great cloud of smoke spreading out across the otherwise pristine sky. Yet, the fire was obviously not a threat, for the smoke emitted from a tall stack clearly designed for the purpose of carrying it away.

And even without sails, the ship made good progress toward us. As she approached, I could see that the splashing sound was caused by a series of slaps at the water by wheels on each side, pushing the ship along. I had heard of steam engines when I was still part of the outside world, but only as an unreliable oddity. To think that they had become compact enough to use at sea was as unexpected as the thought of, well, flying or something. Yet, undeniably, a ship was headed our way.

As she got closer, I could see she was a small ship, not much if any bigger than the old Celeste. Yet she made good speed through the water. Still, it would be some hours before she got close to our lagoon. I drifted back down to Aegina’s side and explained what I had seen.

"What should we do?" she asked.

"I don’t know," I admitted. "I suppose we should wait and see what happens. I don’t expect she will be able to get past the reef in any event."

Aegina nodded in satisfaction and relief, and we went to eat a bit of breakfast while we waited. Every now and then, one or the other of us would pop up to check the status of the approaching vessel, always to find her holding a steady course.

In a strange but not surprising parody of my own arrival, so many years before, the ship halted a league or so at sea, then commenced a more cautious approach. Again, like the Celeste, she was caught by the swift current. However, at the first sign of distress, the side paddles started a furious churning. After a short while it was clear that they were actually able to hold the ship against the current. With that assurance, the ship allowed herself to approach more closely, always holding herself steady and under control.

When she got close enough we could see her underwater shape, I noticed another strange deviation from my own experience. This ship had no real keel. She would drift downwind in any serious breeze so badly I didn’t know if she could make any headway at all to windward. But then I realized with her smoke-belching, noisy steam engine she didn’t need to counter the pressure of sails. Without a keel, though, her draft was shallow enough she might actually make it past the reef, if she picked the right spot.

"Should we guide it in," asked Aegina.

"Not unless you really want to," I said. "She might still founder on the rocks, and I’d hate to lead them to someplace beyond her capabilities."

Aegina just nodded, watching with me under the water as the ship moved slowly forward despite the ever increasing fury of her slapping paddles. In a quite seaman-like dance, whoever was guiding the small ship eased her sideways to a clear point in the reef, and for the first time in a century we had a visitor. The ship was aptly named the Mystery, a fair statement of it’s pending impact on our lives.

I found myself strangely irritated when the ship’s anchor disturbed a delicate coral growth I had often admired. Despite my feeling that this lagoon was a prison, it was still *my* prison and I hated to see needless damage. Still, there was some compensation in that the pounding clamor of the ship’s engine stopped. As the squawks of disturbed birds faded, we watched first from underwater, then from behind a sheltering boulder for any sight of our unknown intruder.

A single man appeared. He looked tall, to me. And very trim. For the first time in a very long time, I felt myself envying a beard for his was full though neatly trimmed. It obscured his face enough that I couldn’t get much of a feeling for his age, but it was immediately clear he had plenty of youthful vigor. He lowered a small boat and entered it easily, then began rowing briskly toward shore. Once there, he pulled out a much-folded map and looked around with obvious satisfaction.

"What should we do?" Aegina asked again.

"I don’t know," I admitted again.

"Could you get on board his boat?" she asked.

"Probably, but what would I do after I get onboard? If he found me crawling on the deck I’d be helpless. At least in the water we could defend ourselves."

"Do you think he will attack us?"

I shrugged, "Who knows? But if we hide, we won’t have to take the chance."

"Just hide, after not seeing anyone knew for so long?" she said, not believing it. Then, before I could respond, her eyes got a dreamy look as she said, "and a man."

"So what?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing," she said, too casually. But we had been together too long for me to miss the obvious signs of her arousal. Actually, I’d have recognized them even without knowing her. The signs were obvious as soon as I looked.

I sighed and said, "Well, if we’re going to introduce ourselves, you need to go get a top. Get one of the long shawls that you like so much, and I’ll help you wrap it around yourself."

"You’ll help?" she said in surprise.

"Yes, of course," I said, though in my heart I knew I didn’t want to, not at all.

She was off in a flash, returning from one of our storage caves with a bit of pale silk that I had, to my present sorrow, told her matched her eyes just perfectly. We made a sort of harness for her that would at least provide a bit of modesty, though the transition of skin to scales took place so low on her hips that it was positively scandalous.

"How do we approach him?" she asked breathlessly.

"Oh, I don’t know," I answered, a bit of irritation in my tone.

What did she think was going to happen, anyway?

We lifted our heads above the water again, spying on him. He was walking up the beach away from us, looking at his map, and at the shore. Cautioning her to silence, I led us to where his boat was pulled up on the beach. I knew he’d be back there, and probably before too long. It was already near evening. A tall boulder would conceal us on his return until he was quite close, while a smaller one would support us with at least Aegina’s tail still in the water.

The obscuring boulder kept him from our sight as well as keeping us from his, but his return was heralded by the crunch of footsteps in the sand, a sound I had all but forgotten.

When I judged the time was right, I said softly, "Hello."

His head snapped to our direction, first expecting some sort of attack from behind the boulder, apparently. His recovery was amazingly quick, however, and I found myself envying his self-control. If I had stumbled across two mermaids in my explorations, I think I’d have, well, fainted or something. His eyes widened, to be sure, but instead of shock his face showed amused enjoyment.

"Hello, yourself," he said, moving closer. I could see he was a mature man, at least 35 years of age. He still moved, though, with that youthful energy I had remembered from my own past so long ago. I suppose as such things go, he was handsome. Certainly his features were unmarred by scars or other deformity. I did find the sparkle in his eyes to be curiously . . . interesting.

By my side, Aegina was showing signs of interest as well, though the modesty of her scarf kept the most obvious ones hidden. Still, her eyes were almost glowing, and as we were out of the water and breathing normally, I could see her panting like some sort of animal.

"Calm down," I whispered sharply, then smiled at our intruder.

"What brings you to our island?" I asked pleasantly.

"Whatever it was, I have a much better reason for being here now," he said, prompting a silvery giggle from Aegina.

It had been a long time since I had heard a rich, masculine voice like that. I was distracted by the sound, remembering things from so long ago I had forgotten that I even had the memory, until it was triggered. My distraction kept me from responding immediately, a pause not shared by Aegina. Nor by the stranger.

"Who might you be?" he asked, his glance singling her out.

"I am Aegina, and this is Celeste." She performed our introductions.

"And I am Samuel Jackson," he replied.

Then he turned back to me and said, "And in answer to your earlier question, I have a map purporting to identify the location for buried treasure. The map had not been helpful, until now, but I think it was worth every penny I paid."

Aegina giggled again, responding just like a schoolgirl to his flattery. Something in his eyes seemed almost dismissive toward her, though, and he focused his attention on me.

Reaching out, slowly but without concern, he touched one of my dangling emerald earrings, saying, "Though if you have a few more of these around, I might find a treasure to spend, as well as one to enjoy."

"There are lots of things like this, in our cave," Aegina blurted out.

"Indeed," he said, turning back to her with a new light in his eyes.

"Surely, we can swim down and get you all you want," she promised.

"Perhaps in the morning," I said, stalling her enthusiasm. "It’s already getting dark, now."

"But . . . " Aegina tried to protest, to be stilled by a sharp glance from me, along with a cautioning hand.

The man, Jackson, noticed the gesture but he just smiled and nodded.

"Just as well," he said easily. "I think I’m going to enjoy my time on your island."

I nodded, smiling politely. I didn’t know why I felt uneasy. He was a perfect gentleman, much more so than I would have been in the situation. Yet, somehow I had a dark sense of foreboding about his arrival.

That pause once again to reflect on the situation left a void that both he and Aegina were only too ready to fill. They filled it with mundane things, though, planning our evening meal.

"With your permission," he said gallantly, "I would feel privileged to provide a fine wine, and perhaps some bread for the occasion. Unfortunately, I have no fresh meat, and only limited vegetables."

"Oh, that’s just fine," Aegina gushed. "I can get the rest in just a few minutes."

With that, she slipped from her perch and arrowed out into the lagoon, faster than any barracuda at snatching several fish for our meal.

"So, my richly-colored lady, how is it that I find not one, but two such beautiful creatures in such an out-of-the-way place?"

For some reason I couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, I dropped my own gaze and found myself looking at his legs, remembering those I once had. His hand once again reached out to my face, this time lightly lifting my chin so that I would look at him.

"Believe me, dear redhead, I mean you no harm."

"Aegina may be harmed in ways you don’t understand."

"Aegina may be harmed?" he repeated. "No thought for yourself?"

"She is more delicate than I am," I declared.

He nodded his head and said, "Yes, she is a fragile gem. And very beautiful. But I have always favored a lusty wench, myself."

"I am hardly a wench," I said.

"No, but I’ll lay odds you are lusty enough, for all your slender grace."

If a blush were his objective, he obtained it. For in truth it was more often I than Aegina who desired our sessions of love, and more often she than I who was first to need a break. We both enjoyed them, of course, but there was no doubt I found a greater need for them within myself, than she within her. My blush wrote the realization of that truth on my face in a message so clear that our visitor laughed out loud.

"Ha, I see that I am right."

"Come," he said, reaching to lift me in his arms, "I will carry you above the high-water mark and then build a fire. We can sit around and tell each other of our lives as the sun sets."

"No," I said sharply. "Aegina cannot leave the water."

"Only Aegina?" he asked.

"Well, it is obvious that I am not comfortable on land, but only she will perish if she leaves the lagoon."

"Ah, part of the magic of this place, no doubt. Very well, I will build the fire over there, but we will sit here to eat."

"It is not necessary to cook the fish that Aegina will bring. She can prepare a most excellent meal without a fire."

"Raw fish? I think not," he said, shaking his head. Then the amused look returned and he said, "Though I can see how you might need to learn to do without a fire. Thankfully, that will not be necessary tonight."

He turned away to gather firewood. Though the only sizable trees on the island were palms, at least those within any reasonable distance from the beach, there were shrubs and other woody growths that would support a fire. He took a small handaxe from his boat and moved inland, soon vanishing in the brush. I sat alone for a long moment, trying to decide what to do, when Aegina returned.

"If you’re just going to sit there, why don’t you get your harp and play for us?" she suggested.

To the extent such a concept had meaning in our idyllic existence, that was indeed my duty so I slipped of into the water and swam to the golden harp. When Jackson returned from the brush, carrying some actual wood that must have come from real trees not visible from the beach, I was playing softly, trying to get in the mood to sing.

"Where did you find that?" I asked.

"Oh, a few hundred yards inland. You mean you didn’t know? There are any number of good trees just over a small ridge. I could build a boat from that supply quite easily, though without an engine I’m not sure I could get past the reef."

A hundred years, wasted with lumber just out of sight. The idea of crawling several hundred yards, over rough terrain, then trying to drag the lumber back was daunting to say the least, but a hundred years! I could have been free.

Aegina realized it, too. "Oh, Celeste, you could get away."

"Get away?" Jackson asked before I had a chance to comment.

"We are both held to this bay by the circumstances of our nature," I explained. "Aegina cannot leave the waters of the lagoon, not even to climb on a rock. She must leave at least part of her tail immersed at all times. I can leave the water, but I remain as you see me as long as I am on the island, and I would drown if I were not a mermaid and tried to swim away. I once tried to build a boat, but the wood I could reach was not suitable."

"But now you could," Aegina repeated, looking at me strangely.

"Perhaps," I agreed, "but I wouldn’t want to leave you."

She nodded, but I could tell she was still distracted about something.

Jackson got a good fire going, then made a trip back to his small ship to get a frying pan and a few utensils. He took on the task of frying the fish while Aegina prepared a few simple vegetables harvested from the seabed. These he added to the cooking fish both for flavor and as a simple way to complete our meal. While they were busy, I played a wordless song of the sea whispering through the caves, using the sound of my voice more as instrument than messenger for my story.

I let my song end when I saw their preparations were nearing completion. Aegina gave me a quick smile, thanks and recognition, but it was something we had done together many times, so it was not particularly noteworthy.

Or, at least not to us, though Jackson sat back on his heels when I finished and said, "That was very, very beautiful. Thank you."

"It was nothing," I said as I laid the harp aside.

"If I had heard that nothing on a lonely night at sea, I would have come even without the promise of treasure," he claimed, bowing deeply.

That earned him another blush, and a quick smile of my own. A pause settled in among us for a long moment, while his eyes looked at mine with a message I didn’t understand.

Thankfully, Aegina broke the stillness with a laughing request, "Oh, please hurry. Celeste has told me so often of cooked food, that I am famished with just the thought. Though it smells heavenly, too."

Jackson delivered the pan with a flourish, scooping large helpings on plates he had brought from the ship (saving us, though he didn’t know it, from going after the golden ones). Aegina looked curiously at the fork he offered her, but I took up my own and speared the first bite of cooked food I had enjoyed in a century.

It was every bit as good as I remembered, and I let the hot juices slide down my throat with sensual pleasure, moaning softly at the bliss. Jackson noticed and suddenly turned away, hunching slightly.

"Goodness, Celeste, I didn’t know you missed human food so much," Aegina said, that strange tone back in her voice.

"Oh, Gina, you prepare delicious meals, but I do admit to liking the taste, as a change. Try it."

She stuck her fork in the cooked food, bringing a bit to her tongue.

As soon as she touched it to her tongue, she recoiled. "It’s hot!"

"Of course," I said with a laugh. "Be careful, but it won’t really hurt you."

She tried again, taking just a bit into her mouth. You could see from her face that she expected to find the cooked fish dry and hard, like herbs left too long in the sun, but after the juices began to caress her own taste buds, her eyes lit up and she said, "Hey, this is good."

"Thank you," Jackson said, then scooped up a large bite for himself. Even he was impressed by the subtle flavoring imparted by Aegina’s seabed harvest. For a few minutes after that, no one said anything as we all paid tribute to the joint success of the chefs in the most honest way.

Our silent appreciation was interrupted by Jackson, who said, "Oh, I almost forgot."

He walked over to the small boat and pulled out a couple of bottles and three goblets.

"Wine, praise God," I cried.

"Indeed it is, my flame-crowned beauty," he replied. "I’m afraid I only had one bottle of white, but I brought a good red as well. I don’t think the fish will mind."

"Nor will I," I promised.

He quickly poured three glasses, then raised his, "To beauty beyond compare, and the paradise of sharing it."

I blushed as he said it, because he was clearly looking at me. Then I looked at Aegina to see if she had felt slighted, but she was too engrossed in sniffing at her wine to have noticed.

"So this is the wine stuff you’re always talking about," she murmured.

I nodded, taking a first, tentative sip myself.

Frankly, it wasn’t as good as I remembered. A part of me could remember what wine was supposed to taste like, and I could tell that this was a good white, crisp and clean, but something just didn’t seem as desirable as it once had. Aegina, when she tasted hers, was frankly disappointed, turning her nose up.

"I don’t see what makes that so special," she grumped.

"Well, it is a bit of an acquired taste," Jackson admitted.

"Perhaps you will find the red more to your liking."

I took another sip while he rinsed out her goblet with some of the red, actually pouring out a bit to make sure the new taste would be free of the dregs of the first. Aegina took another tentative sip, and frowned again.

"Well, it’s better, but . . . "

"Doesn’t it make you feel warm inside, though?" he asked.

"Um, yes, I do believe so, now that you mention it," she agreed.

She took another sip. And then another. "It does grow on you," she admitted.

"Good," he said with a smile.

After that, we all relaxed together. The wine helped, especially for Aegina. By the time the moon was high, she was giggling at whatever was said. I found myself the target of ever-longer gazes from Jackson, though they didn’t seem to make me as uncomfortable as they had earlier. It must have been that our pleasant dinner had helped to show his truly gentlemanly nature.

The meal had long been ended, and the wine was nearly gone, when he climbed up beside us on our boulder and wrapped one arm around my shoulders and the other about Aegina.

"Ladies," he said expansively, "I think we need to go for a swim."

"A swim?" I snorted. "In your condition, you’d drown."

"Ah, but you’ll save me, won’t you?" he said with a most sad pout, which transformed in a heartbeat into a roguish grin. With that, he simply fell off the rock into the water, taking us with him.

Aegina’s laugh was snuffed in mid giggle by the water, then recreated with even greater humor underwater. For myself, I was mildly irritated at having my last glass of wine ruined, but her giggles and his easy laugh as he stood in shoulder deep water made it impossible to be cross. In the water, of course, our tails made us much more powerful than his almost-floating legs, and we were able to dunk him under with ruthless glee.

Somewhere in the mock fight, Aegina’s scarf came adrift and floated away, but no one was particularly concerned. At least, not until Jackson noticed. Then he felt compelled to inspect the revealed bounty at a bit closer range.

"Magnificent," he declared, "and if I can sill stay that, I need another bottle of wine."

"Oh, and can you sill stay that?" I repeated, but he was too distracted to notice either his mistake, or my pointing it out.

It did focus his attention on me, though. And with no real force yet inexorable determination, he wrapped me up in his arms.

And then he kissed me.

At first, I was unsure of his intention. Though it was many, many years ago, I had been with drunken sailors enough that I was not particularly surprised to have one wrap his arms around me. The happy drunks often did that, and it was apparent that Jackson was a happy drunk. But a kiss was another level of intimacy all together. I pulled back with ingrained repugnance at the prohibited contact, liking neither the intimacy nor the feel of his beard. It was wrong for a man, and such I was inside my head, to kiss another.

"Oh, so you’re one of *those*", he said sadly. "What a shame."

Then he turned to Aegina and asked, "Are you one of *those,* too, my pale jewel?"

"One of what?" she asked innocently. "I don’t think so."

"Let’s find out," he offered, then took her into his arms. Her own response was not repugnance. Quite the contrary. I’d like to think that she had found my own embraces, my own kisses equally pleasant, but I would have been hard pressed to prove that she found them any *more* desirable.

After a time long enough to make me wonder if she had somehow made it possible for him to breathe underwater, too, he lifted his head to take a gasping breath, then said to me, "Sorry, my beautiful flame, but your loss is Aegina’s gain, and she seems to have no reservations."

"Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been with a man," Aegina was whispering in his ear.

"No," he said.

"Too long," she declared with yet another giggle.

His response was yet another kiss, and a caress of the bounty revealed when the scarf came adrift. Watching them was making me regret my so-proper refusal of his advances. Watching them was making me regret it a lot. Not that they noticed. Nor cared.

I felt myself being pushed away from their universe, though neither touched me physically at all. When I saw her hands begin to fumble with his clothes, I realized I couldn’t stay any longer. Turning away, I swam down to a deep cave and hid myself from their whispers, their moans, all the sounds of their passion.

I don’t suppose I slept much that night. It certainly seemed long enough, as though each passing moment was written in my memory with not one missed due to sleep. When the current in the cave showed that the tide had turned, I swam back up to the surface, wondering what I would find.

The first thing I did *not* find was the Mystery. I could still smell a residual of her smelly exhaust, so I knew she had not been gone long, but gone she was. I confess that I did not feel any remorse at the loss. If I could, I would have stowed away on the ship but at the cost of being with Jackson, and away from Aegina, the passage price would have been too great.

Aegina was laying on the beach, her tail almost out of the water as the tide receded. I hurried over and crawled up to her side, urging her to move down into the lagoon. She seemed confused, which I put down to the residual effects of the wine, and I helped her down into deeper water.

"What happened?" she said.

"Jackson left, with the Mystery," I reported.

"Jackson left?" she repeated with surprise, still confused.

"Yes."

"No!" she shouted. "That witch."

With that she broke from my embrace and started swimming toward the exit from our lagoon at a pace so swift that try as I might, I could not quite catch her.

"Gina, no! You can’t go after him!" I called.

"I have to. She took my . . ."

At that point, Aegina passed the reef. Her body exploded without a sound into a shower of luminous sparks. Their tiny momentum carried them barely a yard before they lost all cohesiveness and began to dissipate among the swirling currents of the gap.

My own momentum carried me into the midst of the vanishing cloud, which was nearly as catastrophic for my own life. In an instant, I transformed to human shape again, for the first time in over a hundred years.

And it was a very, very old shape I found myself wearing. It was not the body I remembered, sixteen years old and strong, it was the body of an ancient man, one whose limbs had no strength, one whose heart had no power.

Even my young body could not cope with the currents of the lagoon entrance, and the ancient form I found myself in had no chance at all. Luckily, the currents still pulled me strongly into the beautiful trap and I transformed once again as soon as I crossed the reef. Safe in mermaid form, I called again and again to Aegina, hoping that my memory of her dissipation was somehow flawed.

But she never answered. She never reappeared.

After several fruitless hours, I turned back to the lagoon to see if I could find some reason for her strange behavior. The Aegina I had lived with for so long, whom I had loved, would not have left me so alone. I refused to believe that was possible.

I had taught her to read, using the scraps of readable material that arrived on the current, and scratching out letters in the wet sand behind the receding tide. My own skills were hardly perfect, and rusty to boot, but I was sure I could have understood any message she left.

That actually turned out to be the case, both that there would be a message, and that I would come to understand it. That understanding took a long time, though, longer than I think she expected.

When I reached our beach I saw her diamond necklace dangling from a stick protruding from the sand. It did not register with me at the time that it was a bit above the high-water mark and should have been out of her reach, because the need for the message to stay dry was so obvious. There was a note held down by a rock at the base of the stick. I crawled up to where I could reach it, carefully shaking my hands dry before touching the paper.

"Der Slest,

I dint no it wood happin like this. It dint happin like this with Zuse, but mebbe thats because hes a god. Wen I woke up and figgered what had happind, I new I had to git away. If I stayed, he could have recked the boat or sumthin, and I figgered youd make me switch back. And if I had to stay, I new you woodint leave. But now, you can get away, to. It will take you a wile to bild a boat, but you know where to git the wood. I no you don’t hold with men bein together, so I don’t expect yule want to find me after you escape yourself, but if you do, Ill be in that port in Barbados you toled me about, on the first day of Spring, every year that I can.

I love you, and I always will,

Aegina

 

My resolution not to get the paper wet fell to the drops of my tears as I read and reread the note. It would have been a good plan, and maybe even a necessary one. I would never have left her alone on the island. And I should have been able to escape myself, now that I knew where to find usable wood.

But now I also knew that if I left the lagoon I would transform into a man of my calendar age, no matter how little of it that body had lived. I would be, as best I could figure, 124 years old the moment I crossed the reef.

I was sitting there in the sand when another thought occurred to me.

Or, at least a question. What had happened to Aegina, and to Jackson? And how had it happened? Aegina was ages and ages older than me, and apparently she had managed to survive her own transition, so whatever had happened must not have resulted in her aging as I had.

I thought I understood what she did, what they did after I had left them the night before. Certainly their intentions were obvious. And if so, maybe that portion of herself that she had merged with me to save my life, so long ago, maybe that portion would allow me to use her own solution as well.

 

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And so I sing my song into the lonely night and the empty days, hoping that someone will hear. It has been at least 250 years since I first came to the island, yet still I sing, still I dream, still I hope - hope that someone will brave the reef and come to me.

Come, come to me!
Come and share my melody.
Come and see what love can be!
Share the magic of a mermaid’s passion.
Come take my love in any fashion.
Let me take your essence into me,
And return my inner self to thee.
Come and sing my song for me.
Come, sing my song and set me free.

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Brandy Dewinter. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.