Mermaid 5 by KeikoJade

8/12/2019 Mermaid 5 by KeikoJade

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I spent four days in the depths. The only stimuli were the coolslipstream flowing around my body, the endless green haze of deep water,and the pain from my injuries. There was no sound, and my eyes simplyfocused out into infinity. At first I would check my direction byturning on the indiglo in my watch. The light seemed so bright that Iwould turn it on with my eyes closed, then open them slowly. I onlyvaried from east by a few degrees north or south. It occurred to me thatwith so little stimuli that I could intensely feel the changes in theflow of water as it washed over my body and my fins even if I alteredcourse a minute amount. Staying on a straight course was so easy that bythe third and fourth day I simply checked the compass twice a day.

Though I was in the center of what seemed to be infinite space, thesameness of it all made it feel very small. I traveled for four daysstraight, and not even the temperature or smell of the water seemed tochange. I was reluctant to go toward the surface due to my injuries.With a lot of time to think, I recalled hearing at some point about howgreat pressure prevents bacteria from infecting wounds. People withlower intestinal injuries are put into hyperbaric chambers so that theirbody can heal, because the pressure inhibits bacteria from feeding ontheir body's waste. I figured that the pressure in such a chamber can'tbe more than a few atmospheres, at most. But I also didn't know thedepth to which predators could dive. I could go higher, but I wasworried about swimming in the ocean with my wounds merely poorly sewn

up. If they opened and leaked blood, I could be attracting unwantedcompany.

I pushed through hunger on my second day in the deep, and again the painthis brought faded away, replaced by the ever-present knowledge that Ineeded to eat. I could feel the strength I had gained from feedingslowly ebb away. My mind wandered in the deep, and again I found itdifficult sometimes to define dreams from reality. Daydreams droppedinto sleep, and sleep devolved into waking. Sometimes, I swore I heardand saw sharks coming straight at me. I would awaken, body warm withadrenaline, to find myself alone in the deep.

Often, my mind focused on my family. They lived in Wilkes-Barre,

Pennsylvania. That's where I grew up. My father, a burly, red-facedfirefighter who was retiring at about the time I had my accident withthe necklace. Mom, homemaker, who shuffled us to and fro basketball,recitals, and school plays. My sister entered college the same time Ihad entered the Marines. I was supposed to follow her after myenlistment. And, I had a kid brother, who was just starting high schoolthis year.

Wilkes-Barre was a coal town that was saying goodbye to its best daysjust as I was born. First, its clothing industry went over to China,then its coal industry disappeared into memories of black dust andforbidden mining tunnels. Then, just before I was born, a massive flooddecimated the town. It never quite recovered.

Still, it was a happy town, in its own way. The mine-scarred hills thatsurrounded the town grew over with trees, and the river that had broughtthe flood was diked. It had the comforts of a city and the familiarityof a village. My parents would take us on a walk, down the block to theice-cream store. For some reason, every block had at least a bar or aVFW. I grew up thinking it was normal to call trick-or-treat at thebars.

In the summers, we went up to the lake country in New York, where my



family owned a house on the water. It was there that my siblings and Ibecame fascinated with the water. It seemed that we'd swim from sunup tosundown. Our mother and her friends would play club at the picnic tablein the shade on the shore and watch us. "I swear, by fall they'll havegills," was something we often overheard.

How was I going to meet my folks? I decided it was all situational. Ihad to get to the West Coast, and then decide. Maybe I could coax aboater to lend me a cell phone. Maybe, I could steal one from a boat.Perhaps I could find a beach that had easy access to a pay phone. Itried to think of ways I could send a letter, but nothing came to mind.

But, if I can possibly contact my folks, what then? I have a girl'svoice, so simply speaking to them won't convince them of who I am. Thekey would be to get them to agree on a meeting. Perhaps I could say thatI'm a friend of their son, and that I have to meet them to explain whatwas going on. But if we ever met face-to-face, could they comprehendwhat had happened to me?

Maybe, I could try reaching my sister. Folks born and raised in Wilkes-Barre aren't usually very open minded, but she was always a hippy. Iremember the ruckus caused when my mother found a book on Wicca inSarah's room. "Sarah Perkowski, you are not going to worship Satan in myhouse!" "Mom, it's not about 'Satan!'" "I don't care!"

Besides that, I never really picked on Sarah. She was one of those artsykids who simply don't fit in small-town schools, because there aren'tenough other artsy kids. So, she had a pretty rough time just being anoutcast. The only reason she didn't get picked on a lot more was becauseshe was smart, pretty, and I was popular in school. I had been a starteron the basketball and soccer teams every year from freshman to senior.Though I'd never been college-great, I'd been small-town great.

Hell, even I had picked on Sarah about her witchy stuff. But she was ahard target to pick on. She always had a way of letting taunts roll offher back. "Yeah, Jason, I'm a witch. Oh of course, it's only aboutrunning around the woods naked, exactly. Oh and cavorting with demons?

Yep, that too. I sit in a pentagram and offer myself to Beezlebub. Uh-huh."

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the best way tocontact my family would be through Sarah. Even though anyone would agreeit's pretty radical to meet a mermaid, and then comprehend that mermaidis actually your brother, I figured that she could handle the situationfar better than my retirement-aged parents. Mom had only leftPennsylvania to go to New York, once to Canada. Dad had been out of thecountry once - to Vietnam, then straight back to good 'ol PA.

Sarah was the key. But after meeting her, then what? How would I be ableto spend time with my folks? There was no way I could live on land. I

would have to be hidden from outsiders, and I'm handicapped outside ofthe water. They can't live in the water, obviously.

I thought about our house on Lake Carter, in New York. It was a prettybig lake. A puddle compared to the ocean, of course, but perhaps if myfamily lived there on the water, and I in the water, we could make acompromise. Or perhaps Dad could build a boat house that actually servedas my house. But how could I possibly get to that lake? Even if I did,it seemed like a dangerous prospect. There were a lot of houses on thelake, and a lot of boats. If I was spotted enough, a search would be



done, and I was sure to be eventually found out. The idea of beingdependent on my aging folks wasn't very appealing, either.

I also felt ashamed. What would my parents, especially my dad, thinkabout me being turned into a creature so feminine? I felt that he wouldblame me for changing on purpose. I didn't know if he would even want tomeet me. My change is so freakish in every aspect that he might not wantanything to do with it, whatsoever. He had always been so supportive ofmy athletics. We would play basketball in the driveway for hours onhours after school. I remembered how his broad face beamed when he camedown to my graduation from Marine recruit training. In body and face,I'd always had his looks, whereas my sister had the look of my mother. Iknow he was proud of the man I was, or was becoming. Now, I'm no longerwhat he wanted me to be in any regard.

I wanted to pray to God for guidance. We hadn't been raised as perfectCatholics, but when I was young we went to Church for all the holidaysand observances. I went to chapel sometimes while in the Marines. I'dprayed for my grandparents when they passed away. Other than that, Ihadn't really ever thought of praying for much. Now, I wanted to prayfor this transformation to be undone. But the very fact that God hadallowed it to happen convinced me that prayer was useless.

Gluboks cryptic comments also dissuaded me from faith. He had mentioned

gods, not God. I regretted not asking him more questions, until Irecalled that he wasn't keen on conversation. Alone in the ocean, Iyearned for his company. Then, I laughed to myself. One must be prettydesperate to yearn for the company of a massive, irritable squid.

I went six days without eating. Still, I kept moving east. Even thinkingstarted to grow tiring. I simply kept moving and dozing. I had companyonly in dreams. Sometimes, I was with my family on leave. Other times, Iwas getting drunk with my comrades. I had a dream that the entiremermaid affair was simply a dream, and when I woke up in the barracks, Iwas unbelievably happy. But somehow, this dream dissolved intounfortunate reality, and I awoke in the deep. Other times, mostly whiledrifting into sleep, huge, phantom sharks darted at me from my

unconscious mind, snapping me into terrified wakefulness.

Despite what had happened to me the last time I played with the sharks,I realized I would do it again for the chance at a meal.

I finally decided that I had healed well enough to go back up, into theliving altitudes where I could find, or be, prey. As the water grewlighter, my mood elevated. Without realizing, the gloom of the dark hadsomehow affected my spirit. The bright glow from above grew moredefined, until I could see the surface from below, like a vaultedceiling in Heaven. The waves were as tall as a man, the sky was steelgrey, and the air was filled with salty spray as a whistling wind blewfrom frothy wave peaks.

My view of the ocean grew and shrank as I slid from the wave peaks intotheir troughs. The ocean's color was the same steely grey as the sky,only darker. It looked like rippled metal. From the peaks, I could onlysee waves in every direction. It felt like I was a microbe on the centerof a gigantic, flat coin. The horizon was simply the merger of sea andsky, a flat, uninterrupted line between two colors. I sank back underthe waves and continued swimming.

Later in the day, the sea grew calm. The clouds broke up under afternoon



sunshine. I broke the surface and cruised along. Every few minutes Iwould dip my head under the water and listen for the sound of prey, butto no avail.

I was skating just below the surface when I heard the whispers of preythrashing. I thought it might be an audible mirage or a trick of my mindand tried to forget about it, but it only became more distinct andclear. Soon, I radared in on the location, submerged, and headed towardit.

The sound grew stronger and stronger. Not only did I hear the smoothswimming of healthy fish, but the hiccupping of wounded fish. Idescended to fifty meters and kept my eyes peeled. The first thing I sawwas a shark, swimming parallel to me, toward the sound. It had a massivecrescent tailfin that seemed to be half as long as the body. It was alsonearly twice my length. I gave it a wide berth. Multiple targetsappeared ahead of us. A loose school of fish was milling around a pointof interest, darting in and out, and random sharks of different sizesmixed with them. The fish were like nuclei around the cloud at thecenter of an atom. The water in the center of their attention wascloudy. I smelled blood.

I dove deep and looked up to observe the action from below. For amoment, my heart stopped. Above the swimming fish was a massive black

body. It took me a moment to realize it was a large boat.

"Fishermen," I realized. I felt the urge to swim right up to the boatand make contact, but something restrained me. It took me a minute to asecond to realize that I simply couldn't swim up and say 'hi.' Thisangered me, until I realized that the presence of a fishing boat meant Iwas somewhere near land. I could follow this thing back to its port.

I lay on my back and observed. Tiny pieces of fish floated down towardme like snow made of meat and scales. The fishing boat was chumming thewater. Mackerel and junkfish, and the sharks, were all attracted to thesmell. From all sides of the boat I could see shiny pieces of metaldropped into the water, and dancing in the sunlight. As I saw fish

strike them, I realized they were jigs.

The fish were feeding on the chum and attacking the jigs, and the sharkswere going after the fish. After an hour, I realized that the orbitingsharks had something of a choreographed routine. They had a traffic flowthat they intuitively followed. It all seemed to be timed off thelargest shark present, which happened to be the big fellow I swam inwith. The smaller sharks followed in his wake, and snatched up piecesleft by his carnage.

I swam up and drew my knife. I fell in line behind a shark that seemedto be about my size. I was so close I could taste them, and somehow Icould even feel energy rippling from their bodies. I could see their

dark eyes shifting in their sockets, and their gill coverings flowing inthe water. I could see their fins shift and bend as they maneuvered. Istarted to shake uncontrollably.

The shark in front of me suddenly angled into the mass of fish. Thewater tasted and smelled terrible here, like the air in a greasykitchen. I realized I was only a tailfin thrash away from the bottom ofthe boat, but I couldn't look up. I simply registered its shadow.

With a swift stab I impaled a fat mackerel. I accelerated to make a



clean escape, nearly catching the hook of a jig in my eye as I did so.Before I left the range of the boat, I saw a mackerel hooked on a jig. Afisherman was trying to reel the desperate fish up. I pulled my catchfrom the knife and in two quick slashes kill-stabbed the hookedmackerel, and cut the fishing line above the leader.

I didn't slow down, but moved out of the way and at while maneuveringand keeping my head on a swivel to scan in all directions. I ate on themove, then swung wide around the whole scene and came in for anotherrun.

Again, I moved in behind a shark. I entered the fracas, trying to lookin all directions at once while also focusing on a target andmaneuvering away from danger. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a largemovement. It was the big shark, with the gigantic tailfin. He wasn'theading straight for me, but all the other sharks were giving way to hisapproach. I rolled to my right and suddenly felt a sharp, stinging painin my dorsal fin. I rolled, and felt something tear and hook into me.Thick wire and fishing line wrapped around my waist, and pinned my wristagainst my body when it went taught. Out of the corner of my eye, Icould see a bright jig had snagged my dorsal fin. Its hook went all theway through my flesh.

I rolled and reached for my knife with my free hand. As I did so, I drew

another line around my torso, trapping my free arm. At the same time,the lines went taught. It felt like I was being cut in half by pianowire, and the tearing pain from my dorsal fin nearly blinded me. I wasabout to transfer the knife when the pain hit, and I lost grip of it. Itwas attached to my wrist by a 'dummy' cord I had weaved, but there werea few feet of play in the cord. I reached for it, but another huge tugon the line paralyzed me. At my angle, the knife was free floatingstraight for my face. I rolled hard and it passed by my ear. This onlyentangled me deeper in the lines.

I looked up. I was only about 10 meters from the surface. I was beingreeled in. I realized I just had to reach my knife. I could fight theselines, but didn't want to cut myself up. I started worming an arm free

when adrenaline suddenly swamped my body. I heard a loud, rushing noiseand knew what was coming. I turned to see the big fella headed straightat me. He could tell I was handicapped and decided I was going to make agood meal.

In a split second, I decided that the boat was a pleasant place to go. Ishot upward and the huge shark barely missed me. But it didn't stop. Itwas doing a fast u-turn. Without the ability to maneuver I had no chanceagainst this thing. I kicked up hard and broke the surface, and camedown with my stomach resting on the gunwale of the boat. Tourists liningthe gunwale with fishing rods exploded away from me. I could still sensethe predator below me coming for another pass, and I flopped down a fewfeet, knocking my jaw on the hard deck. I saw stars and heard screams

and shouts.

"Oh my God! A mermaid!"

"Mermaid!"

"Jesus Christ! That thing is real!"

My point of view was only a few inches from the deck. I saw lots ofwhite, suntanned legs in Hawaiian shorts and feet in boat shoes and



Tevas. I took advantage of their shock. I wiggled, grabbed my knife, andstarted cutting. Once my right arm was free, I quickly sliced throughthe rest of the line. The jig that had penetrated my dorsal fin dangledlike an earring. It was just barely out of reach. It would have to staylike that for now. I could hear cameras clicking, and shouts ofauthority - maybe the crew?

I turned, reached the gunwale, and hauled myself up. I was about to flopback into the water when hands grabbed me all over, and threw me backinto the boat. I landed on my fin and shrieked in pain. I rolled onto mystomach.

"Get her," a tanned man yelled. It was the crew that had grabbed me, andI guessed this middle-aged guy in a polo shirt was the boat's captain.The crew formed into a group. I stared up at them, held out my knife,and gave them a look that told them I was going to fillet their gutswith that ten-inch blade. It suddenly dawned on me that I was going tohave to hurt someone. They were in shock simply from me landing in theirboat, and my brandishing a sharp weapon must have simply been too much.They looked nervous and a few simply backed away, holding their handsup. Should I say something, or act mute? As I pondered this, they werestarting to come to their senses. One kid came running back with a net.The captain grabbed it from him and started approaching me. He madegentle, petting notions with one hand.

"Easy now, easy, we're not going to hurt you."

I waited for him to make his move. If I could snatch fish straight outof the water and dodge sharks, I knew my reflexes were way too much fora human. Not only did I know it, I _felt_ it in this body. But, crawlingaround only on my belly was a handicap. All my power was in my tail. Asthe captain approached me, I instinctively knew how I would be using itto fight bipeds on terra firma.

I saw him throw the net before he realized he was throwing it. His eyesnarrowed, his nostrils flared slightly. Waiting for his body to committo the momentum of the throw was the hardest part.

The captain threw. I moved in one motion that used the muscles from mytailfin to my fingertips. I came up on my fingertips and kicked my tailtoward the captain as hard as I could. The force took me by surprise,nearly giving me whiplash. My tail, just north of my tailfin, clockedthe captain right in the ankles. To my shock, I felt the first anklebreak under the blow of my tail. My upper body spun, following my tail,and the net hissed onto the empty deck. Its weights clunked against thewood. I spread my arms and came to a stop. The captain's feet werepointed to the sky as his head and shoulders hit the deck. He collapsedand lay there, knocked out cold.

A storm of screams arose from the passengers. The young crewmen stood in

absolute shock. I heard a gasp, and a woman collapsed onto the deck in afaint. I stared at a clump of crewmen. Two of them darted right for oneanother, knocked skulls, rebounded, collapsed to the deck, and scrambledback to their feet. One of the boys simply grabbed his head with bothhands, stared at me, and shrieked. I could feel the panic and fear inthe air. It was like being at a rock concert so loud that the soundvibrates your entire body. Somehow, it was tangible to me. I could senseit, like I could sense whether an animal was sick or whole.

I looked around. I was on the quarterdeck of the boat. The crew along



the gunwale ran forward. A group of about fifteen tourists huddled inthe stern, too afraid to try and pass by me. As I looked at them, theirfaces contorted into masks of absolute fear and horror. People werecrying and huddling together as they whimpered.

I stared at them. For some reason, a thought filled my mind, but it wasdirected at them. _Fear._

The people transformed into quivering bodies and howling masks. Threepeople passed out. Others started pissing themselves. Shrieks of horrorrose from all over the ship. I'd never seen people this thoroughlyhorrified in my entire life. They looked like depictions of people inold paintings of the unfortunates in Hell. And it was somehowtransmitting from me.

I suddenly felt guilty, and shocked, that I was the source of thishorror. But I realized that to reverse it, I had to calm down.Apparently, I could induce fear voluntarily, but it also seemed that Itransmitted it involuntarily, when I was afraid. The fear I waswitnessing, and the realization that I was causing it, was raising myanxiety. It was like a feedback loop of emotion. As I watched an old mangrab his chest in pain, I realized that the crescendo of this loop couldbe the deaths of some people. I fully felt that I had barely started torealize how much horror I could induce, and it was already too much. The

last thing I wanted to do was kill people through sheer terror.

The sight of the old man clutching his chest nearly made me panic. Thefirst thing to pop to mind was the word _calm_. I performed the mantaagainst panic and tried to broadcast feelings of calm and peace. Thescreaming ceased as if someone had been controlling it with a faucet. Icould feel the horror in the air melt away. Again, the feelings Ireceived back from people affected how I felt. I felt more calm andpeaceful. There was a slight bump in the global level of anxiety as Irealized that if everyone was calm, they could figure out that theycould grab me and somehow cash in on the novelty.

_Happiness_, I thought. Calm, peaceful, happy. As if light pierced dark

clouds, the horror melted from everyone's face. I started making my wayfor the gunwales. The people broke up from their groups and startedtalking calmly amongst themselves as they watched me. I heard honestlaughter. People who had fainted were waking up. The captain groaned,and some of his crew went to his side.

As I approached the gunwale, people started to crowd me. But I felt nofear. They stayed about a tail's length away and simply watched. Somesnapped photos. I propped myself up with one arm, and reached up andgrabbed the gunwale with my other. I then grabbed the gunwale with bothhands and hauled myself up onto it. I lay somewhat on my side, with mypectoral fin over the edge. The slightest push and I'd be into thewater.

The people, sensing that I could escape at will, crowded in.

"I'm sorry," I said. My feminine voice surprised me. I hadn't felt veryfeminine as I had fought for my skin! But now, somehow spreading thismood of calm and joy, I did feel feminine.

"What about your wound?" a middle-aged woman asked. For a moment Ididn't realize what she was saying, until I remembered the jig in myfin.



"We saw that you couldn't reach it," she said.

I looked around. The crew had gathered on the rungs of the second leveland were observing from up there.

"Ok," I said. "If you can help me."

Someone appeared with a pair of wire clippers and handed it to thewoman. I rolled inward, and let her work on the jig. She was able tosnip it off of me in a few seconds, and she reverently backed away.

"Thank you," I said. "Goodbye."

I rolled off the gunwale and belly-flopped into the water. I dove deep,deep, welcoming the mounting pressure of the deep. It felt safe.

Mermaid 5 by KeikoJade

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