A Collection of Stories

Do You Believe in Mermaids?

The tide sneaked up on the sandy shore, snaking about my ankles and hissing like cold water on a sizzling red piece of iron. A colorful bit of seaweed drifted near my toes while my finger felt the coarse, grain-like texture against my skin, reminding me of sandpaper against rubber. Our footprints trailed back like a pair of invisible wanderers pacing back and forth as if in search of something-something of value, considering how they stopped after a few paces only to turn back, go a couple paces to the left or right, stop and repeat. It's funny how different things look when you take the time to consider, to imagine, to observe them without really looking. The soft rose and mango hue of the daytime star hung to the west, giving off a lazy sex on the beach glow. I closed my eyes and inhaled, tasting the salt-sweetened zest on my tongue. I can almost feel the cool H20 on my body, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine in that familiar way; and the arousing shock that comes at this time of day vibrated through my legs, causing adrenaline to shoot through my body. A haze appeared before my eyes and for a moment, thoughts consumed me until the last beam of light dusts across the horizon, until my Josie's voice brushed the silence in the air.

"Vivie?" Her chubby finger was tracing O's of varying sizes in the sand.

I peeled my gaze from the sky to meet hers. "Hmm?"

There was a thoughtful pause. "Are you okay? You haven't answered me yet."

"I'm sorry, baby, what was your little question again?"

She pulled at the single braid that blew across her rosy cheek. "I asked, do you think mermaids exist?"

Do I think mermaids exist? The earth seemed to quiet down. But I know it is only me entering my thoughts again. I know the answer, but dare I say it? We have to walk back to the house before it gets too late. I'll have to return too, but not before kissing her and letting her know I'd be back soon. But she saw past that. Her big, beautiful eyes saw through my curtain of unsaid words, yet she waited. Waited for me to give her the full, off-fledged version of the story, of the secret I carried to the beach every night like an illness plagued deep in my body. I didn't share everything. Not because I feared she wouldn't understand, but because I felt she'd understand too much. She needed me-I knew that, but I'm human too. I have needs too. Yet mine didn't rest on anyone-not my parents, my little sister, a lover, or friends, not even me. I was sure of this.

A log bobbed on the sleepy waves, which carried it like arms bearing a casket. I sighed, pushing my toes into the clean granules of the earth. The tide crept in, its gentle lips of saltwater kissing and clinging to the walls of the sandcastle Josie and I had built earlier. Slowly it pulled the structure of love down like milk on soggy bread until the pile smoothed out; the water's tears, drowning it again and again. Reminded of the time, I glanced up at the sky-the sun froze in a wink, waiting for me to decide. Something danced in the distance, close to the water's surface; its sharp orange and pink scales glistened and sparkled ever so slightly. My tongue, with a mind of its own, ran over my lips and I'm suddenly aware of how dry they are. My skin yearned more than ever for what it needed.

Hush, I thought, it isn't time yet. I ran a hand over my leg, feeling them tense. Josie was watching me.

"I'm getting cold," she whispered, and I quickly got up.

We walked to the house in silence, each busy with their thoughts and I once again drifted to her unanswered question:

Do I believe in mermaids? Only three weeks ago did she have me read The Little Mermaid to her and her friends. All night they battled over whether the creatures were real.

"Mermaids don't exist."

"They probably did a long time ago."

"Nuh-uh."

"I said maybe they did."

"Perhaps they still do," said Josie.

"Then why hasn't anyone ever seen one," someone said in a challenging tone.

"I dunno," she said, pretending to be busy with her Madame Alexander doll.

One of them turned to me. "Let's hear what a grown up says about the matter. What do you think, Vivi? Are they real or not?"

I smiled while putting the book away with the others. "I'm not one to believe in things I've never seen. Maybe they did or do, maybe they didn't or don't. But what does it matter? And who can say if it's true or not? I think we should busy our thoughts on things that actually matter, like the hot cocoa waiting in the kitchen. Who agrees?" And they dropped the topic for the night. But Josie watched me the entire time and every day after; she knew more than she dared to say.

The house came into view, and we walked up the steps. Josie's clear eyes looked into mine.

"I'll be back soon, okay?"

She nodded. "I know. And you don't have to worry about that question earlier. I know what I believe. See ya!"

I watched her enter the house and heard Mom and Dad ask in unison:

"Where's Vivi?" 

"I'm not sure," she answered, "but I'm sure she'll be back soon."

And feeling the shock in my legs and the burn for air in my lungs, I ran until the ocean drank me in and I see, hear, taste and feel everything that made me believe in mermaids.