The Human Fish 14

Chapter 14: Interviews, Bubble Bath Stories, and a Vulcan Issue.



  There was plenty of work awaiting us when we went back to work on Monday. Two nights worth of coral polyps ensnared in fine mesh nets greeted us when we swam forth to resume our harvesting and planting. The netting we used was not only very fine, somewhat like a screen window but much less sturdy, but also sticky so any plant seeds which drifted against it were going to stay there until we removed them. It was not so sticky though, that even the smallest fish might get stuck should they brush up against it. At most they MIGHT need to swish their tails just a bit harder, to get away.

  Due to the fragility of many of the corals forming the reefs, we Mers would need to be careful, like our flipper-wearing air-only breathing counterparts. Though our tailfins are softer, our tails are powerful enough we could still easily do damage if we got careless. While some coral polyps and seeds were sturdy, others were quite fragile to the touch and required delicate handling. However, we wouldn't always 'plant' them in the shallow ocean bottom, but instead simply stick them into various nooks and crannies on the existing reefs, offshore rocks, and the various sunken barges flanking our current underwater home.

  Also due to that fragility, we would not attempt to lift any of the nets off the reefs where we had cast them. Instead we would cut the nets apart piece by piece, and place the pieces in the spots we would choose for them. The net result was a series of very ragged looking large nets scattered about our underwater neighborhood. While anything but photogenic, it would not stay that way for long. Unlike the nets typically used by commercial fishermen and others, those we used were biodegradable, and would soon fall apart in salt water. Nor would sea turtles, gulls, and other marine life be at risk from eating these nets - their stomach juices would digest them as they would the proper food they normally ate.

  There was also another reason we were thankful someone at the R.B.O.S. had invented biodegradable 'fishing' nets. Sea turtles and dolphins occasionally drown when they get tangled in conventional fishing nets and cannot reach the surface - unlike us Mers, they cannot breathe water and must surface periodically to breathe air. Only the day before we seven had left for Bimini to come here, a group of Mers who were working at one of the Hawaiian atolls had sent a message telling us how they had come to the rescue of a pair of dolphins whose flukes had become ensnared in a lost fishing net. One of the mermaids had just called her teammates' attention to the dolphins' plight when the net became stuck on a rocky outcropping about one hundred feet below the surface. Had the Mers not been there and able to come to their rescue by cutting the net free from their flukes, they no doubt would soon have drowned, a wholly undeserved fate for such magnificent creatures. Afterward, none of the rescueing Mers could understand a syllable of the dolphins' squeals, titters, and clicks, but it was clear they were most grateful to their saviors.

  Somewhat to our surprise, we cleared our backlog of planting by mid afternoon.  We left the remnants of the original nets in place, as the corals they covered were still spawning, and draped new nets over some of the more promising areas we had not yet netted. While nature can usually heal its wounds on its own well enough if given the chance, it would do even better with help - and providing some of that help was one reason we were at the Mersey station in the first place.



  Most of the business or personal emails we fielded that evening were comparatively routine, but there was one incoming that was anything but: an interview with Tara that was recorded during one of her recent return visits to the aquarium she headed on the Mississippi coast. Being underwater as we were, the video had no sound but was close captioned for our benefit. All seven of us eagerly gathered in front of our biggest monitor to watch.

  The first part began with Tara parked next to a shark tank, sharks could be seen swimming past on the other side of the reinforced plexiglass. She was wearing a nice but not too dressy maternity blouse, but nothing at all below her waist, not even a loose fitting, flouncy skirt.

  {Why?} asked the interviewer soon after finishing the initial introductions, and congratulating Tara on her pregnancy (Tara seemed to bounce in her wheelchair, and happily slapped the floor with her tailfin).

  {How often do you see a mermaid wear anything over her tail?} Tara asked in turn, with a seeming bemused smile on her face.

  {Hardly ever, even in pictures] her host conceded before asking [Do you ever feel...uh...naked?}

  Tara shook her head before answering {Where I used to wear jeans or pants or a wetsuit, or perhaps a skirt or dress, I now have scales. It's not exactly like I'm naked from the waist down.}

  {You do have something there. I have to admit I had not thought about that one.}

  {Some of us who have pelvic or dorsal fins cannot wear anything at all below our waists} Tara now said.

  {Including you?}

  Tara didn't really answer that question, at least directly, but did appear to waggle her own pelvic fins. They were long and flowing like Ana's, but much larger, almost like wings.

  {When you put on your mermaid costume you never expected to become a mermaid for real, did you?}

  {No, absolutely not!}

  {Do you ever regret becoming a mermaid?}

  {Believe it or not, I don't.}

  {Really?} Tara's host could not hide her astonishment.

  {Yes, really. I used to dream about becoming a mermaid, and becoming one for real has helped me become a better oceanographer.}

  {How?}

  {I no longer need all that scuba gear, swimming is so much easier with a tail than with flippers, and I can stay down as long as I want and not have to worry about air tank limits or the bends...I don't even need a wetsuit anymore!}

  {Not even when you swim in colder waters such as the Pacific Northwest, or the Canadian Maritimes?}

  {Not even then. We have a team of Mers working near Halifax now. The water there is cold enough their support divers have to wear dry suits, but they themselves don't even need wetsuit jackets...}

  {What do the support divers think?}

  Tara laughed briefly before answering.

  {They wished they could swim in colder water like we could, without needing all that extra gear!}

  Tara then spent some time elaborating on how her professional and personal lives had changed since she became a mermaid, and by her pending motherhood. She spoke about the challenges of getting around on land with a tail instead of legs. Her tone was noticibly light at some times, decidedly serious at others. She also spoke of life in our underseas Mer community. At times she even seemed (to us at least) to be subtly trying to get male viewers to consider choosing a mermaid as their life mate and perhaps become mermen themslves. Tara could be both entertaining and thought-provoking.

  {What did your oceanographer colleagues think when they heard you had become a mermaid?}

  {They have been very supportive!}

  {Have any of them ever wished they could have become mermaids...or mermen...like you?}

  {Oh, yes...of all the oceanographers who would have loved to become Mers, I was the only one who went to the convention and got changed...}

  The second part of the interview showed Tara swimming in the shark tank she had been parked in front of earlier. She now wore a swim top that both accentuated her bulging belly, and allowed viewers a close up of her gills in action, and her fully webbed fingers. She was truly a picture of grace as she swam, occasionally stopping to 'talk.' She spoke in sign, with someone off screen interpreting in the original interview, and closed captions provided in the version sent to us. Pointing to the sharks she was swimming with, she said that most species pose no threat to humans, and that some attacks are the result of mistaken identity by the attacking sharks.

  {Sharks are rather nearsighted, they hunt primarily by sound and scent. That is why we stay in secure locations at night in the sea...the sea can be a very rewarding place to work, but it is very demanding too...}

  Tara paused at that point to gently stroke a skate which had brushed against her tail, before speaking once more.

  {Many fish and other marine animals which are wary of human scuba divers don't seem to be bothered by us Mers.}

  {Why might that be?} the interviewer's question now appeared on screen.

  {We conjecture one reason could be because we swim much as they do, and not like most humans...also, I know from past personal experience the bubbles from scuba gear sometimes makes fish nervous...}



  We ourselves had an interview of our own the next day. Just before noon a boat came carrying some directors of the R.B.O.S. and some guest oceanographers from Woods Hole dropped anchor on the shallow side of the Mersey. All seven of us Mers went up to greet our latest visitors, who were most curious to hear first hand what we had been doing. They were impressed by what we had to say, and we were inpressed by the thoughtfulness of their comments and questions.

  Although our Woods Hole guests had been told ahead of time about Natalie, they still could not hide their amazement when they began asking her questions about herself. She answered in a thoughtful, matter-of-fact manner, with Jackie interpreting, and only ducking under to breathe in between questions. When asked if she regetted being no longer able to breathe air she shook her head before her fingers went into action once more.

  ~No. Being able to breathe only water sure beats not being able to breathe anything, and there is so much I can still do~ she said.

  All our visitors were silent for several moments afterward, as they contemplated Natalie's words, and the message behind them.

  The interview lasted a little under an hour, then we went back to our underwater work. The Woods Hole people turned out to be all certified divers, and accepted our invitation to join us for an underseas tour this weekend.



  Soon after we returned to the Mersey late that afternoon after having split up to do some foraging, Natalie swam up to Jackie, Diane, and me with a big smile on her face - when she was not laughing.

  ~What is up, Natalie?~ Diane asked.

  ~Take a look!~ Natalie answered as she opened her laptop and pressed a few buttons. Then she turned it so we could see the screen. Right away we three couldn't help but laugh as well. Natalie's sister Leanne was dozing in a bathtub, and covered in suds from her neck to the base of her tail, so little but her head and tailfin were visible. The tub was too short to accomodate her increased length, so she had braced her fin against the opposite wall. In the photo taken by their mother, Leanne's tailfin looked as if it might flop over at any moment and slap her in the face.

  ~Mom and Dad say that is often what does happen~ Natalie said ~Sis will take a bath, fall asleep, then wake up again when her tail falls over and splashes suds all over her face!~

  As might be guessed, all four of us doubled over at that one!

  ~Does that bother her?~ Jackie wonered.

  ~Sis has never complained, at least to me, but she has also said they will be remodeling the bathroom soon so she can hang her fin over the end of the tub...~

  Diane and I briefly thought about the tub at our now-secondary home near Beaufort. Like the one in the May family's home, it was a standard length tub, but with no wall at the far end so we could hang our own fins over the end without having to twist them to the side. Even with the estuary just outside our back door, all of us enjoyed an occasional soak as a nice change of pace!

  ~That is not all~ Natalie continued ~More often than not suds will spill onto the floor before she does wake up...that part of the house has no cellar, only an open air crawl space. We used to have problems with raccoons making a mess there. Not any more, they can't stand the smell of spilled soap suds! Dad said he even drilled a small hole in the floor so suds would drip down and make them not even come close anymore!~

  ~Might chlorine be a problem for your sister when she takes a bath?~ Ana asked.

  ~No. Dad put in a filter to be safe, and they only buy bubble bath solution without chlorine.~

  Most of us recalled with some bemusement enjoying bubble baths when we were younger, although none could remember our parents being much amused when we splashed suds onto the floor! Ana did admit she sometimes did so on purpose if her parents had gotten mad at her for some reason.

  ~I was something of a rebel growing up~ she said.

  Fernando said he enjoyed his bubble baths as a child partly because it gave him the opportunity to splash everything - and everyone - within his reach.

  ~We did not have running water at first, so I was always bathed outside, so I did no harm~ he said.

  Natalie too said she had enjoyed bubble baths as a young girl, and during some of her hospital stays.

  ~Believe it or not, I kind of miss them now...~

  Diane and I found ourselves wondering how Natalie might be able to enjoy a bubble bath again someday, despite no longer being able to breathe air. We were sure we would eventually think of a way, but a solution eluded our minds, at least for that evening.



  Among the email messages awaiting our attention when we returned home Wednesday afternoon was one from Dr T'Kring, addressed to me.

  {Mister Scott, you might find it to your benefit to have all your internal organs put into their proper places, either by surgery, or by other means...}

  I hadn't anticipated such a message, though I probably should have known better by now. Even after reading it twice (Spock might have considered that wasteful), I still felt conflicted. I had never forgotten what the doctors had told me following the attack back in January. Had my heart been in its proper place (for a Vulcan) I would not have survived my wounds. On the other hand a growing number of doctors, mundane and otherwise, were becoming ever more familiar with Vulcan physiology, including that their internal organs were 'in all the wrong places.'

  Doctor T'Kring's reasoning did impress me as logical. Thus far few but some doctors in Morehead City and Orlando knew about my unique internal anatomy. Were I to be brought through the emergency entrance at a hospital elsewhere the local doctors' unfamiliarity with me (or Vulcans of any stripe) could lead to serious, potentially even fatal, complications. Still, the Vulcan doctor advised a go-slow approach.

  {...this not a decision to be made quickly or without giving it much thought...we here are of the opinion you will be better off in the long run...honored we will be to be of service to you...}

  Natalie and Jackie turned in a little earlier than usual that evening, having spent some time chasing each other from one end of the Mersey to the other, but Diane and I stayed awake for a while yet, holding hands and trading thoughts on Dr T'Kring's message.

  [What do you think you will do, Harry?]

  [I'm leaning toward surgery...if I'm going to be a Vulcan the rest of my life, I might as well have all my internal organs be where everyone expects a Vulcan's organs to be...including my heart.]

  [When might they...operate on you?]

  [Dr T'Kring thinks maybe late this fall. There is no need to rush, and that would give them more time to fine tune everything and reduce the risk of complications...]

  Diane nodded her head thoughtfully, then said [Some of those Trek doctors really know their stuff...]

  She then started to say something else, but broke into a bout of giggling instead. When she regained her composure she thought [I think they were wrestling this time, they are definitely getting along much better than they did at first] referring to the twins growing within her belly.

  [You sure?] I wondered.

  [Oh, yes. You're still underestimating me, Harry!] she said with a mental giggle.

  Being a guy, I could not be certain she was not pulling my leg...er, tail, but it also sometimes seemed to me she actually now enjoyed being pregnant. I could not be sure of course, partly because we have yet to do a mind meld together, and partly because the potentially hardest part was yet to come. Months ago we had been told the middle trimester is sometimes called the 'honeymoon period' for a number of reasons: nausea and mood swings often (but not always!) cease to be issues, the desire for sex may return, and complications from weight gain are not yet what they can be later, at least for women who rely on feet instead of a tail to get around. Both she and Ana said being mermaids could be a major plus late in their pregnancies, with the water supporting their bodies and also allowing them more mobilty than 'normal' biped women.

  Like many other pregnant women, Diane seemed to frequently rub her expanding belly, or to look down with a contemplative look on her face. This evening she also claimed she could 'speak' to her babies, and that they would obey her commands to quiet down when they got too rowdy inside her belly. I couldn't decide if that really was the case, or if she might have been pulling my tail again. Possibly she sensed what was on my mind, and decided to leave me guessing, for when I asked her a question she responded with a Mona Lisa-like smile. Despite our months together and trust in one another, she still liked to keep some thoughts to herself, and I respect her for that. She is an individual human/mermaid after all, very much in contrast to the Borg collective (Several conventioneers were transformed into Borg, but their numbers were too few to enable them to do any real harm).

  Women, like cats, can be quite mysterious.