Fable

The first time I saw him, I was gathering shells at the edge of the water.  I was still a child really, not comprehending the weight of choice.

He was magnificent, golden scaled and glistening.  Dark hair entangled in strands of seaweed and luminous eyes watching me with the depth of the ocean.  That first day he simply watched from a rock where the swells broke against the jagged shore.  When I returned home with my basket of shells I asked my father, “Are the Merfolk real?”

I already knew they must be, for I’d seen one, but his answer left me knowing beyond a doubt that I had not imagined the Merman that day.

“Only fools believe in such creatures,” father said.

And that easily, my mind was determined.  I would see the Merman again.

I went to the water’s edge each day for a month, standing with my toes in the surf and the water of mother washing the sand from under my feet with each wave.  I stood in storms and blazing sun and under stars to catch a glimpse of him.  My skin freckled and my legs chafed raw from the salt of the ocean and the constant rush of sand. 

One day, in a fit of childish impetuousness, I decided to go in search of him.  The half man half god with fins of sunlight, wild hair and jeweled eyes.

I placed my basket of shells in the sand, stripped off my linen shift and stepped into the water.  Cool and encompassing she embraced me and I walked one foot before the other with each rhythmic heartbeat of her vast body.  Each step my mind raced and my fear mounted – because I did not know how to swim.

How far could I go in search of him? How long could I walk?

But the water held my body with such gentle acceptance, my hips submerged and the weight of the sea rocked my pelvis with languid ease and I wondered if she were asking me to dance, or encouraging me to make love.  My ribs touched the cool wetness then the under curve of my breasts.  When I had walked far enough that my nipples graces the salty sweetness of the ocean, my breath caught in my chest and I thought the pounding of my heart would be heard by the leviathans.  It was then that my courage deserted me, and I turned back to the shore in desolation, believing I would never see him again. 

But as I stepped toward safety, I felt something brush against my thigh.  I knew it to be him, long before his head surfaced between my breasts, his eyes sparkling and radiant as an otter.

A sweep of golden scales brushed his cheekbones and his long dark hair swam in the water around my body, tickling my flesh with a tentative promise, but when his tail breached the surface long enough to reflect the mid-day sun in a flash of brilliance – I lost my mind and began laughing with joy.

He tipped his head to the side as if to listen and I saw the rippled gills of his lungs along his neck and down the front of his chest.  His ears were sharp points of golden skin and without thought, I stretched out to touch him.  He splashed a thunderous arc with his tail and dove free of my reach, speeding out into the depths.

Startled and fearful of losing him I charged after him toward the center of the world but the earth fell out from under my feet and my body went below the waves.

I struck out with my arms, flailing in the water and drinking in the salt blood of mother. 

It happened quickly, that his arms encircled my chest and his tail coiled about my naked flesh with graceful strength. 

I remembered to hold my breath and as I gazed at him through the salty haze he smiled and pressed his cold lips to mine.  I knew then that I would die.  I knew with his kiss that he had loved me for years.  I knew with his kiss that he’d watched me grow from a coltish girl to a young woman with breasts and a penchant for curiosity.  I knew as he kissed me, tightening his body around mine, that he’d yearned for me each time I walked along the shore.  I knew as he kissed me and his long hair cocooned us, that he had spent days waiting for me to gather shells, then hiding from me for fear of rejection.  I knew as he kissed me – he had no comprehension that I, being human, would drown in his embrace.

I cupped a hand against his jaw and kissed him back to tell him, somehow I’d always know he was there and I too, loved him deeply.  As I kissed him with my last breath, I knew that I would die loved.  I knew that I would part this world knowing I had touched what beauty so few truly believe is real.  I would die in mother’s womb, salted tears and pulsing rhythm.  I would die happy but he would live – he would live while my broken body swayed in the tide.  He would live knowing he was responsible for breaking what he had yearned for, burned for, coveted and finally achieved – only to destroy it.  I knew as glimmers flashed at the corners of my vision, that he would never really know how he’d killed me – but he would know somehow – he was responsible.

I felt his scales against my skin and as I lost breath, my eyes going dark, I could sense him squeezing tighter as though he understood somehow that he was losing me and struggled to keep me close – bind me to him so I couldn’t get away.

I was happy.  I was dying.

It was then that I remembered how much I loved the sun.  I remembered how dearly I would miss the stars, the sound of violins, the joy of running through the forest and the sweet pleasure of fresh honey.  I remembered as the blackness crept in and the fire in my lungs gave way to emptiness – I remembered, I really wanted to live.

I struggled, feebly at first, but then with strength born of a need to survive.  His body shuddered as though I’d wounded him and all at once his sinuous body released me, throwing me up toward the world where I breached the surface – my lungs gulping air, my limbs still flailing.

My body still fought as my spirit found reserves to survive – live.  Even as I slapped at the sea I vomited saltwater back into the collective.  Then as I dipped once below the water my toe scrapped sand.  Instinctively, I pushed toward the surface again and began an ungainly hop along the bottom until I could stand on my own two feet and breathe.

Still up to my ribs, I turned back to where he watched me from a distance.  He was hurt.  He was angry.  He had thrust me away for not wanting to die.  He felt betrayed that I couldn’t breathe his beloved water.  I turned back toward the shore, trudging against the tide and at the edge of my vision I saw him vanish in a splash of gold.  I gave my tears to mother.

He has gone back to his world – and I must return to mine.