Under Water

It’s cold the first time he sees her. He’s not sure what month it is; he’s lost track after all of these years and he can’t remember their names anyway, but he knows it’s that time of year when the ice on the lake finally melts and the flowers start to grow on the banks and the leaves on the trees are born again, soon to become full and green. It’s still cold, though, and sometimes it rains for days on end.

He’s lying on his back, staring up at the gray sky and wishing it was warmer, when he hears the crunching of leaves behind him. Someone is coming. He quickly dives under the water and swims away. No one has come by the lake in what feels like forever. He can’t help but be curious, so he cautiously camouflages himself in a cluster of reeds and peeks out, just so his eyes and forehead are above water.

It’s a girl. She’s got short, dark hair that just brushes her shoulders and dark skin, although everyone’s skin is dark compared to his. Her pants are rolled up at the ankles and her sneakers are sandy and her blue jacket is open and whipping around her in the breeze. She’s got big glasses and a small camera.

He has never seen anything like her. He watches as she toes off her shoes and steps into the water, letting it lap around her ankles. She takes a few pictures of her feet and then of the grass growing alongside the bank. For a split second, he wants her to wade deeper, just so he can pull her under with him.

It’s then that he makes a mistake. He straightens up a little, trying to get a better look at her, and the reeds around him rustle. She looks up, and then they’re staring at each other. Her eyes widen and she stumbles back, nearly falling to the ground in surprise. He stays there for a split second, long enough for her to make sure her eyes aren’t deceiving her, before he turns and dives back into the water, his tail flipping behind him.

He swims to the bottom of the lake, though she wouldn’t be able to see him no matter what since the lake is so dark at this time of year. He curses himself for allowing himself to be seen, no, for wanting to be seen. Now what?

Part of him hopes she comes back. He loves humans, loves their legs and their strange feet, their shiny hair and skin of all colors, the way they jump and kick and breathe lungfuls of air. He tries to remember a time when he had feet of his own, but it seems so far now. Humans will sometimes come to sunbathe on his beach, and sometimes they bring their children. He observes from far away and admires the sandcastles they leave. Sometimes, if he finds a rock or a seashell that’s pretty, but not pretty enough for his collection, he’ll leave it on the bank for one of the human children to find when they come back.

It’s been so long since he’s had contact with anyone, human or mermaid. Maybe he just wanted some reassurance that no matter what he is, at least he’s real. All of him hopes she comes back.



She does. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since her first visit, but he wakes up to the sound of someone splashing around in the shallows. She’s wearing shorts so she can go up to her knees in the water, aiming her camera fruitlessly at everything she sees.

He notices someone else with her, another girl. Her hair is wild and curly, and it reminds him of a spring he once found at the bottom of the lake. She looks glamorous, unlike her friend, wearing knee-high suede boots and a long gray pea coat. She also looks bored.

“I’m telling you,” the other girl is saying as she pushes her hair back from her face, “I saw something here the other day.” He becomes just as enamored with her voice as he is with her; it’s soft and low and smooth and makes him think of a shiny black stone in his rock collection.

“No,” her friend corrects her, “you said you saw a mermaid here the other day.”

“Merman,” she says stubbornly, and he feels another rush of affection. “It was definitely a boy.”

“Okay, okay. Point is, I said I believed you. I didn’t think it would make you come back here again, much less drag me with you.”

“Are you insane? Of course I was going to come back. How often do you get to see a real live merman?”

Her friend sighs. Say her name, say her name, he chants to himself, swimming a little closer. “You said we were going shopping.”

“And we still can.” She pushes her glasses up her nose. “Just give me a few more minutes. Please, Nora.”

It’s a name, but it’s not the name he wants. “Fine,” her friend, the one called Nora, says. “Five minutes. I mean it, Natalie.”

Natalie. He mouths it silently, letting the bubbles blow out around him.

She, Natalie, thrashes around in the water for a little while longer. She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a smushed yellow baggie. She pulls something out of the baggie and tosses it into the water, waiting.

“Swedish Fish? Really?” Nora asks, amused.

Natalie shrugs. “It’s worth a try.” She throws a few more in and takes a couple pictures before finally Nora calls, “Okay, time’s up. Let’s go.” He watches as she turns and trudges out of the water to where her friend is waiting, holding her socks and sneakers.

He swims closer, and he knows he’s being reckless, but he wants to hear their conversation. “I really thought I saw something,” Natalie is saying, crestfallen. “Maybe I did just imagine it.”

Nora rubs her shoulder comfortingly. “I believe you, darling. I don’t know what it is exactly that you saw, but I believe you saw . . . something.”

Natalie sighs and follows Nora up the beach. He wants to call out to her, let her know that he’s here and she’s not crazy, but he hesitates, because then what?

The so-called Swedish Fish float by him, and he grabs one. It’s soft and gummy, and when he puts it in his mouth, he’s surprised at how sticky and chewy it is, and at how sweet it tastes. He vaguely remembers them, remembers eating them in a life he lived long ago. He smiles as he eats a few more.

Finn isn’t sure he wants to be found yet, but he hopes she comes back anyway. He likes being looked for.