A Merman's Tale 8 (revised)

Chapter 8: Sara, the Queen of the Mers, and Some More Serious Stuff



  The day after our dive on the Narosparo, the local Mer population increased by one. Sara Smith, who was one of my early mermaid friends at Lake Xanadu, arrived mid afternoon Monday with her parents and brother, about two hours after Diane, Gizella, Yuki, and I had finished our conference call with Louis. Like our own hosts when we had arrived Thanksgiving afternoon, we were outside and waiting when the Smiths' minivan came up the driveway and stopped near our front door. A middle aged couple got out and introduced themselves as Jon and Angie while their son Mike got a wheelchair out of the rear cargo area. Needless to say once Sara was seated in her chair she was the center of attention for the rest of us. Her tail was a bright pink at her waist, then gradually darkened to a medium red at the base. Her tailfin was fan shaped like mine, but it had alternating horizontal bands of pink and purple. Her fingers were about half webbed, much like Gizella's , although she had no webbing between her index fingers and thumbs.

  And...she was topless.

  The other three mermaids present looked as if they were about to say 'huh?' while I started to turn green from embarrassment. Whe Sara saw our reactions she let out a yip and covered her breasts with her arms (her shoulder-length wavy dark red hair was too short to offer the coverage she now desired) as she began to turn red herself.

  All eight of us quickly recovered from that awkward moment however. Once we were all indoors, with Mike pushing her chair, Sara tried to relax and lowered her arms, but was clearly self-consious about her nakedness. She explained that ever since the Change anything she had tried to wear, such as bikini tops, t-shirts, and blouses, would quickly fall apart as soon as she put them on, leaving her very frustrated and upset, and unwilling to leave her home.

  "Have you ever tried wearing shells...real shells...like the 'Little Mermaid'?" Yuki now asked.

  Sara let out a sigh "We have thought of that, but we don't know of any places in our part of Virginia that have them, even in Roanoke..."

  "Ooo...speaking of shells...thanks for reminding me" Gizella cut in. While the rest of us watched and wondered what she was thinking, she wheeled down the hallway and into her room, then returned a minute later with a box sitting on her lap. Stopping in front of Sara, Gizella said "You might want to try this," then pulled out a red shells top Ariel herself might have loved to wear. "The shells are real, not fake. The strapping (behind the back only, like Ariel's top) is made of real seaweed vines, not synthetic. Try it on."

  Sara took the top from Gizella's outstretched hands and slipped it over her head. The shells fit her perfectly, and the strapping had just the right amount of snugness as well. Then she held her breath, as if in dread of what might come next.

  Nothing happened. Sara's new top stayed intact.

  After possibly six of the longest seconds of her life, Sara exhaled and exclaimed "Finally, I can wear something!" Her relief was unmistakable, as if she had just had a major burden lifted from her shoulders.

  "Sara, would you like to go swimming now?" I asked.

  "Yes! Please. Where?"

  "Right out there" I said and pointed toward the back door. Sara's eyes lit up, and I think she would have rolled her chair right through the door then and there if some of us hadn't been in the way.

  "Well, what are we waiting for?!" Diane said. In moments we were all out the door (there were no collisions) and on our way down to the dock. Jon, Angie, and Mike had the good sense to stay out of the way of us manic Mers to avoid getting run over, before following us outside.

  We five Mers were already in the water by the time our two-legged guests reached the dock. In her pent-up eagerness to swim in salt water, Sara forgot to set the brakes on her wheelchair; it would have rolled off the other side of the dock and into the water itself had Mike not sprinted ahead and grabbed it just as the big wheels started to go over the edge.

  Sara was like a hyperactive dolphin in the water, doing jumps and spins that impressed even the other four of us Mers, all the more so because she had not been able to really swim since she and her family had left Orlando the evening of Nevember 12th. The Smiths had a pool with a privacy fence and shrubbery surrounding it, but Sara was no more able to tolerate the chlorine than we had been. The rest of us fed off her enthusiasm, and by the time we finally quit jumping, dancing, and chasing, we were getting rather winded, and ready to think about supper.

  "I have never seen Sara look so happy" Jon told us as we headed back up to the house. All five of us Mers were ravenous from our swim, and the walkers were themselves quite hungry just from watching us splashing around in the water.

  Diane and Yuki did the cooking this evening; our kitchen could only accomodate two chairs at a time, any more and we would get in each others' way. Chicken, rice, and apple crisp were the main items on the menu. Nothing fancy, but our guests didn't care. They even got us to join them in saying Grace before we ate.

  We ended up talking pretty much nonstop well into the night. All eight of us had a lot we wanted to talk about. Early on Angie asked us to recommend a motel where they could spend the night.

  "Stay here, we have enough beds for you" Gizella answered.

  "Thank you, but where will you sleep?"

  "We sleep in the water at the dock, it's more comfortable for us than beds."

  "Really?" Jon asked without thinking to ask his daughter. "You can breathe underwater even when you sleep?"

  "Yes, we can. It's as natural for a Mer as swimming. It will only take us a few minutes to set up an anchorage for Sara so she can sleep there, and not drift away with the current, just like we do."

  It was during the evening that we heard the story of Sara's transformation. She and her family had been in Orlando that week, visiting relatives and checking out colleges she might enroll in for spring semester. On the 11th she went to the Kubla Con with two of her girlfriend cousins. None went in costume, but all three soon sported the pointy ears that were selling like hotcakes, the Flying Penguins were just one of several guilty parties. An hour or so before the Xanadu Event, they decided to have some photos taken of themselves. After completing a photo shoot as pirates (not all buccaneers of 300 years ago were male!), Sara decided she wanted to be photographed as a mermaid, complete with tail, shells, and her pointed ears. The photographer had just snapped her first shot when Sara felt something 'whoosh' through her body. Her friends were able to protect her during the ensuing chaos, but she lost her top during the scramble to get her to the hotel's pool.

  It was past eleven when we called it a night. We still had not run out of things we wanted to talk about, but Diane and Yuki were now sounding raspy whenever they tried to speak, while Gizella and I could barely make any sound at all. It was the excuse we needed to finally turn in for some shut-eye.



  Despite our late 'bedtime' the night before, all five of us Mers woke up at around dawn, as usual, on Tuesday. After chasing down breakfast (Sara's first underwater, which she enjoyed as much as the rest of us) we surfaced and saw that Jon, Angie, and Mike had also risen early and were just then walking onto the dock. Since Sara was then the only Mer there who could speak with anything more than a scratchy whisper, we all soon went inside so we could better take advantage of my contact telepathy. As awkward as that solution was, writing notes would have been even more so - none of us knew any sign language at all.

  By now there was no longer any doubt in the minds of Sara's parents and brother that she would be much better off living with us. Because she had turned eighteen this past September (on my own birthday no less!) we expected few if any legal complications if there was an emergency. Shortly before they departed later that morning Jon and Angie told us about the Thanksgiving Day phone call from a longtime family friend that ultimately led them to us. They were teary-eyed and thankful, the previous two weeks had been difficult for all the Smiths. Heartfelt hugs were exchanged all around before Jon, Angie, and Mike drove back down the driveway and out of sight. Sara later told us it was all she could do to keep her own tears from flowing just then. She was grateful we had invited her to come live with us; when they left Orlando they neglected to exchange any contact info with other Mers, the loneliness had bothered her as much as the 'clothing curse.'



  We were ready for some serious quiet time. Soon after Sara's family had departed, we parked our wheelchairs in the house, then crawled down to the dock and into the water. For the rest of the day and most of Wednesday we kept to ourselves, rarely surfacing, exchanging just a few waved pleasanties with our next-door neighbors as we slowly swam around and out of our local bay. Staying submerged not only gave our vocal chords a much needed rest, the continuous lubrication certainly helped speed their recovery from the laryngitis!

  It was late afternoon Wednesday when the distant drone of a familiar diesel prompted us to surface. A Coast Guard boat was just then rounding a bend and coming our way. I touched Sara's arm and thought [these are the friends we told you about].

  [Cool!]

  We hadn't told anyone else yet about Sara, and that gave her an idea. [Wouldn't it be cool if they come up expecting to see only you four, then five of us leap out of the water?] The idea gained quick favor, so she submerged to await her cue.

  Sure enough, the Coastguarder came all the way up our bay before slowing to make its turn. Diane, Gizella, Yuki, and I dove, then all five of us breached moments later before falling back with impressive splashes. When we surfaced a voice called out over the boat's loudspeaker "Is one of us seeing double, or are there five of you now?" Dave and Ted then appeared on the foc'sle and began pointing down to the bow and laughing. We were puzzled at first, then we saw it: under her official Coast Guard number (only the largest CG vessels normally had names) was now painted 'Queen of the Mers.' It also did not take us long to notice the mermaid silhouette on her starboard bow, or the merman silhouette to port. We Mers thought it was hilarious, we barely had time to submerge to avoid further damaging our vocal chords before we were convulsed with laughter. When we surfaced again after regaining our composure Dave called out via bullhorn "I presume you approve of our little bit of art, do you?"

  "We do!" Sara answered for all five of us.

  "Who is the new one?" Carlos now called out, he had just joined Dave and Ted on the foc'sle after Danielle had taken over the watch. Sara then introduced herself, our visitors said they hoped to meet her again soon, then got their vessel under way again and continued on downriver to their own dock.



  We called out for pizza that evening; Sara was our 'voice.' The delivery guy didn't bat an eye when she greeted him at the door, possibly his own pointed ears were the reason why. After we were done with eating and cleanup, we did some channel surfing and quickly stumbled upon 'The Little Mermaid' just as it began, we were thus glued in place for the duration. After it ended we 'talked' idly about whatever came to mind until something got Sara talking about lightsabers, she and her friends had intended to do a photoshoot as Jedi but of course never got the chance.

  "Harry, you were a Jedi before the change, right?"

  [Yes, I was on the tenth] I thought back.

  "Cool! Do you still have your lightsaber?"

  I had to shake my head no. Of the six Flying Penguins who had played Jedi on the morning of the tenth, none had come away with a working lightsaber. Janice, Marlon, and Justin had taken theirs to their homes, which were all well outside the zone of the Change. Sally had put hers in her car, only to have car and contents incinerated by a fire-breathing dragon during the early chaos of the Xanadu Event. Debbie and I had kept ours at our booth, but it did us little good: hers had been smashed to pieces, while mine had simply disappeared. Probably destroyed too, I thought. I had reported the loss and given a description, down to the 'Ben-Sa Lem' etched on the pommel cap when I had checked out from Xanadu, but as yet no lightsaber matching mine had turned up, so far as I knew.

  "My parents first met at a showing of the original 'Star Wars' movie, a mutual friend had set them up on a blind date!" Sara told the rest of us not long before we crawled back to the water for the night. "They say they have been enthusiasts ever since and have seen all the movies, Mike and I have seen them all too on DVD. We even went to a comic con in Norfolk last year, Mom and Dad were Jedi Masters, Mike and I were their Padawans, it was such a blast!"



  Diane, Gizella, Sara, Yuki, and I were just beginning to stir early Thursday morning when someone began knocking on the deck over our heads. We quickly slipped our moorings and surfaced, to see Dan standing there, with a somewhat serious look on his face.

  "I just took a call from Louis at the Coast Guard..." he began.

  Louis pulled up in front of our house about an hour and a half later. The six of us were waiting outside to greet him as he stepped out of his official car. His demeanor was serious, but he greeted all of us warmly, beginning with Sara, whom he had not met before.

  Once we were all back inside, Louis briefed us on the reason for Dan's 0600 wake-up call. The previous Saturday evening a couple had taken off from Wilmington in a twin-engine turboprop to join some friends who were already on Bermuda; all planned to return a week later on the same flight. About an hour after takeoff an engine failed and the pilot prudently turned back, intending to land at Beaufort. The aircraft was still some twenty minutes from touchdown when something more serious happened and contact was lost; the subsequent search had only located the wreck last evening, when it was too late to do anything but mark its location.

  At this point Louis paused, sucked in his breath, then went on "It is likely there are two bodies in the aircraft...we don't know what condition they are in...are you five really willing to accept this mission?"

  We five Mers looked at one another - it was almost as if we could read each others' minds - then Sara answered for us all when she said "Yes." Our throats felt a little better than they had, but Brian's wife Kathy, who was a nurse at the local hospital, had ordered us last evening to rest our vocal chords another couple days before attempting to speak again.

  "Thank you" Louis said. He again shook hands with all of us, then began advising us on what to do. Handwear was a potential pitfall. Since Yuki was the only one of us Mers with no finger webbing and Sara was the only one of the rest of us who could even wear mittens, they would handle the actual body recovery while Diane, Gizella, and I would handle the bodybags and the stun gun we would carry this time for protection if need be against sharks.

  We were officially logged aboard the Queen of the Mers shortly after 1000 that morning, the last day of November; the trip out was again about two hours. Like the Narosparo, the aircraft was about sixty fathoms below the surface. We would first do an exploratory dive before attempting to recover the bodies, if it came to that. We also would shoot no video or photos until after we had recovered the victims; that meant we could do three dives today.

  Following some last-minute advice, we five Mers dove in and swam down to the aircraft. We were impressed at how intact it seemed to be, but the knowledge of what we expected to find inside was enough to make us hesitate, and we paused a few fathoms above the bottom. Finally, after a minute we decided we were as ready as we would ever be and swam the rest of the way to the cabin windows, our hearts in our throats. The occupants were both there, still buckled into their seats. We drew back a few yards and linked up to share our thoughts. Diane thought [This will be tough, but I'm up to it. Are you?] We agreed we were, so we decided to try opening the doors before heading back up. The passenger side door opened easily enough, but the door for the pilot's seat was less cooperative. Despite all our efforts, we could not get it to budge more than a few inches. We would have to remove both victims via the passenger side.

  When we went back down after Sara reported our initial findings, Yuki (wearing gloves) and Sara (wearing mittens) swam into the cabin to unbuckle the victims and bring them out. With their relatively long tails and large tailfins maneuvering was a bit awkward, but the woman was soon freed and gently floated out of the cabin, then placed inside a body bag which Diane and I were holding. After zipping the bag closed, we temporarily secured it to a tie-down hook on the starboard wing. Sara and Yuki then had little difficulty freeing the pilot from his own watery tomb; the process would have been much slower had they been biped divers encumbered with masks and air tanks. Before long we were on our way to the surface again, our sad yet precious cargo in tow. When we broke surface the Coast Guard crew quickly relieved us of our burdens and placed then in a small room adjacent to the main cabin.

  The third dive was decidedly anticlimatic in comparison. While Sara remained topside to brief the crew on what we had already accomplished, the rest of us dove back down for photos and video. We recorded the plane from fore and aft, both sides and above. We also took close-ups of the cockpit windows and both engines, one of which was missing a blade from the prop. We were later told it was not the engine that had failed earlier, and most likely snapped off when the plane had ditched.



  About half an hour after the return voyage began, Dave returned from the bridge. He shooks hands with all five of us Mers for a difficult job well done. Already the families of the victims had been told their loved ones' bodies had been recovered and tentatively identified.

  'It won't bring them back to life' I thought to myself 'but at least they can say their last goodbyes.' Sometimes no news is worse than bad news. We all listened quietly with little visible emotion, even Sara, who was much more gregarious than the rest of us had been at her age.

  A little while later, after talk had shifted to other subjects (Diane, Gizella, Yuki, and I managed OK, though our inability to speak was getting rather frustrating) Dave asked "Harry, can you really do the Vulcan mind meld?"

  When I nodded my head yes, he went on "I've been diving since before joining the Coast Guard, we have seen what you alls have done, but I still can't even imagine what it is like to swim as a Mer." He paused, then asked "Could the mind meld do that for me? Would it be safe for me?"

  I took hold of Dave's forearm again so I could answer [Yes, the mind meld can help you visualize something, and it is actually safe, but it can be an intense experience for someone who is not used to it. Mind melding is not for everyone. Do you still want to try it?]

  Dave pondered my thoughts for a few moments, then answered "Yes, I do want to try it."

  {OK, let me know if you feel at all uncomfortable, so we can stop.]

  I placed my hand on Dave's forehead, as I had seen Mr Spock do on TV, closed my eyes, and began. Right away I felt as if I were somewhere underwater, and Dave was alongside me. He was still in his uniform, was wearing no scuba gear and did not appear to have changed in any way, yet seemed as much in his element as Aquaman or myself. Like an eager student who had found his calling, he peppered me with numerous yet thoughtful questions. I was like a teacher thrilled to have such an outstanding pupil, and answered his questions with the respect they deserved. At the same time we marvelled at the underwater sights all around us. Fish and reefs, plants and wrecks, even a peculiar looking underwater 'road.' Dave said he had considered a career in oceanography before joining the Coast Guard instead.

  After a while Dave started watching me more closely; he couldn't help but be awed at how effortless swimming was for me as my tail undulated smoothly up and down with each stroke. I hardly used my arms or hands at all, a slight flick of tail or fin was usually all I had to do to turn, dive, or spin about in the water. Eventually he began echoing with some feeling some of my thoughts on what it was like to be a Mer.

  [Swim fast...swim free...]

  [Swim fast...swim free...]

  [See things as no one else can...]

  [See things as no one else can...]

  [Swim...swim...]

  [Swim...swim...]

  [This is where I belong...]

  [This is where I belong...]

  [Stop]

  [OK]

  When I opened my eyes Dave was rubbing his own eyes, then he pulled up his pants legs and took a somewhat critical look at his lower legs. I touched his arm.

  [Dave, are you alright?] He had me worried, and a little scared. What did I just do to him?

  "You were right, Harry, that was a pretty intense experience" he said after he finished his self-examination. "Just before I told you to stop I felt like someone was shining a bright light in my face, and for a moment my legs felt kind of odd too."

  [Are you alright now?]

  "I'm fine. I don't think I would want to do that again, but I am glad I did do it. You people have our guys totally outclassed. How many of you mers were there down in Orlando?"

  I had no real idea, other than almost all of us were female, but Gizella then linked up and guessed there were about one hundred mermaids - and seven mermen, not counting me.



  Dusk was falling when the Queen of the Mers made fast at her pier so the victims could be disembarked. A group of reservists helped the crew at the sad task; we Mers formed an honor guard of sorts by sitting on the railings as they did so. After the offloading was done Louis came aboard and shook hands with each of us before he too gave his thanks "Well done, all tails!" After he stepped back on shore we were soon underway again, in less than an hour we were back home. Soon after we went 'over the side' it finally began to rain and continued off and on until the following afternoon.

  CNN had some coverage of our recovery mission the following day. We were privately pleased with ourselves, slightly embarrasssed, and even a little amused as we listened to the various talking heads. When one of them commented "Not many divers have the special talent to dive to almost four hundred feet" I thought 'you have no idea what our 'special talent' is!' Neither did any viewers who did not already know better - we were not identified by name nor was there any mention of our 'merness.' Those were two prime preconditions we had laid down and which the Coast Guard had accepted. Despite our early foray into Beaufort, a colonial town said to have been frequented by Blackbeard, we were determined to maintain our privacy and to somehow live our lives as normally as we could.

  We would have some interesting stories to tell friends and family next week - as long as we kept our throats well lubricated!