Waves of Heart

I was at my gran's summerhouse when I saw her, lying on the beach. I thought she was dead. She looked normal enough, from the waist down submerged in the waves of high tide.

She was beautiful, and naked, and I was flustered. I brought my fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse, but instead finding long slits, moving. Breathing. I jerked my hand back, confused, and stared at the girl. Beautiful, really, there was few words to describe this level of magnificence.

Bright blue pool-colored hair surrounded her face, skin as white as the sand the lay on, she really was. I brought my hand to her neck again, wanting to feel her gills.

Her skin was smooth like shark-skin, and her gills got rougher and more scaled as they got to the tip. I brought my eyes toward the parts of her covered in ocean. I pulled her ashore a bit, to get a better look. Wow.

The tail made her seem ethereal, pink and peach hues shimmering, casting light from the summer sun. There was a large intake of breath and her pink eyes, wide with something, clicked with mine. Fear?

The mermaid clenched her small hands in the sand and she started to push herself away, back into the water. I grabbed her hand, lightly scaled.

"Wait!" I thought for a moment that maybe she didn't understand the language. "I won't hurt you, just wait. Don't leave." She faltered and stopped moving, but her eyes didn't change.

I pushed a hand into my pocket and pulled out seashells and mollusks. Her hand shot out and grabbed them. She brought them extremely close to her face, staring. I guess myths ring true sometimes.

I stood up and took off my t-shirt, and the mermaid looked at me with confusion. That makes sense, she wouldn't understand the concept of clothes, considering she's not wearing any. Or legs.

I helped her into water and after she was stably swimming by herself, gestured for her to follow me. She followed closely, cautiously. I waded and pulled myself under a dock, well, the dock. Her eyes widened again, but this time not in fear, but in wonder.

Shells of all shapes and colored glass shards hung from the wood. I've been coming down here since I was little, finding stuff in the ocean and hanging it up. Her hands came up to touch the shells, and she felt them delicately.

"Where did you get all these?" I was surprised to hear her speak, soft and sweet.

"Ah, the shore, sometimes a little deeper." Her eyes stayed on me for a moment and I flushed slightly. There was silence.

"So... um, you can speak?" She nodded.

"Yes, I listen to the people on the floating bowls." Boats? She paused. "I was stung by something."

She brought her hand to her collarbone, where a long welt went across, like someone painted a long stroke of pink. I came closer.

"Let me see." I pushed her hair behind her, and looked at the welt. "You got stung by a jellyfish." Her eyebrows cinched together.

"What's a jellyfish?"

"Ah... they're these things that sting you when you touch the bottom part of them and they look like this kind of." I made a mushroom shape with my hands.

Her face showed a small sign of recognition.

I smiled a little.

"What's your name?"

"I'm called Srikra." I put my hand out above the water.

She stared at my hand.

"What is this?"

"It's a- uh- handshake. You shake hands when you say hello." She looked confused and put out her hand. She stroked my hand with her thumb, a look of concentration etched on her face.

"You have soft hands. No scales." I nodded.

"It's a human thing, I also have legs." I pulled one of them up, for emphasis.

"Can I see your... tail bits?" Haha, tail bits.

"My legs and feet?" She nodded. "We need to get closer to shore so I can sit." She nodded again, intent.

I sat down in the sand and she was on her stomach in the water, half in, half out. I pointed to my feet.

"These are my feet and the little nubs on the end are toes." I went to explain how all my stuff is connect and she felt my feet.

"These are soft, too. But also, rough on this part." She felt the sole of my foot and I jerked a bit, ticklish. She looked up at me, alarmed.

"Ah, I'm ticklish, nothing to worry about." There was a pause. "It means when you touch my feet it," It was hard to find a word synonymous with tickle. "makes me feel... tickling isn't really something you can explain."

Her head jerked toward the ocean and a low, humming sound slipped from it.

She turned back to me. "I need to go home. I'll come back," She paused. "What is your name?"

"Hazel." She smiled.

"See you again, Hazel."

And she did.