Beauty and the Merman

Chapter 3

    We sat there for a while in silence. I look down and realize my hot chocolate had gotten cold, but I didn't care. After Dad had calmed down somewhat, I realized that I had six days left with my father and I needed to begin preparing to leave. I inquired, "Did he say where I was to go, to meet him?"
    "Yes, you know that cave your mom and I used to take you to when you were little?"
    "How could I forget?"
    "He said that you or I would have to meet him there. But that if neither of us showed up, he could come and get me himself."
    "It won't come to that. I will go and that is settled."
    I remember that cave. I used to think it was enchanted when I was little. It's a beautiful cave right down the beach from where we live. My parents would take me there and from the outside, it isn't much to look at, but when you went inside, it was amazing. The inside sparkled and there were wonderful rocks to sit on. And the best part, the part that made it magical for me, was that the ocean came right into it, making a deep pool in the center.
    Although I could never bring myself to enter the pool because of my fear, I did love to look at it and admire its natural beauty. I could at least appreciate that.
    But because I never attempted to go in, I don't know how deep it is; I could never see the bottom of it. Before my parents knew that nothing they did could make me go into the water, they would take me there and try to teach me how to swim. But even at a young age, I would stay safely on land, pouting at them stubbornly.

    The first time they took me to the cave is one of my first childhood memories. Mom and Dad told me they had a surprise for me. I excitedly walked down the beach with them and when we entered the cave, I remember being struck by its beauty.
    All I could do was stand there, with my mouth wide open, staring at the walls and the rock. When my eyes finally rested on the pool in the center, I gasped because of its beauty.
    I had already skirted all attempts at entering the water, so when my parents saw my reaction to the pool, they thought that I could be persuaded to get in the pool.
    "Do you like it?" asked Mom.
    I looked at her and said "It's beautiful."
    Then Mom and Dad walked me to the pool. I looked warily as first Dad went in.
    "Marina, the water is wonderful. Don't you want to come in?"
    Mom was with me still when she asked me "Do you want me to hold you in the water?"
    I was only able to manage a quick shake of my head.
    Dad told Mom "Come in, maybe if we're both swimming, she'll come too."
    Mom executed a perfect dive into the pool and when she surfaced, her face was full of joy. She looked at me expectantly. "It's easy. Please come in."
    But my feet would not move. I had a face of pure determination. "No."
    They continued to tell me how easy it was, but I would just stay there, thinking they were crazy. They would beckon and plead. They couldn't imagine that their daughter wouldn't love the ocean. But they couldn't have been more wrong, I loved the cave but I would not go in the water.
    But afterward, I did visit the cave as I was growing up. It became one of my favorite spots to read a book. It was quiet and wonderful. It also reminded me of my mother, as it is one of the few memories I have of her. I can still remember her wet face coming out of the water and the look of contentment she had. I have often wondered if I would ever feel that way and how I would get there.

    Thinking about it now, I felt no fear. I only thought of how much I did not want to lose my father. The rest of the week, Dad never left to go out fishing. I told him that he could go, since he was always the one saying how much we need fish to live, but he wouldn't hear of it.
    We hardly left the house. We stayed and talked, watched TV together, and ate. Sometimes, we would just sit in silence and as we sipped tea together. It was never an uncomfortable silence. It was soothing.
    But the day before I had to leave, I was getting a little homesick even though I hadn't left yet. While Dad was taking a shower, I decided to take out some old photo albums. We don't really have any new ones since Dad never really took a lot of pictures. Mom used to always carry around a camera. Mom used to always carry around a camera. If you flip through the pictures she took, I swear you can watch me grow up, like watching a movie.
    I look through my baby pictures and see a younger version of my parents, holding me like the greatest treasure they could have. Then I get to pictures of when I was five years old and see some pictures that I actually remember. But Mom is hardly in any of the pictures since she is always behind the camera. Which is why I was surprised when I see a picture of me and Mom together. I remember that day.
    It is another one of the few memories of Mom that I cherish. I was watching Mom cook, when I noticed that she humming a song that I didn't recognize. "Mom, what are you humming?"
She looked at me surprised, like she didn't even realize she was humming anything, "Oh, that." She glanced at me with a smile, "It would be easier to show you."
She took me to her room where she took out her jewelry box. I'd seen the jewelry box before but I never dared to open it. She loved it and it looked so beautiful. It was made of a deep brown wood and had carvings all over it. It was such a deep color, that you couldn't tell what the carvings were until you looked closely. The top of the box was pictures of the surface of the ocean with waves and fish jumping out of the water. It was so detailed that the waves looked they were moving. The sides had carvings of mermaids swimming in the ocean that also looked like they might flick a tail at any time and swim away. I had gazed at the box before but never thought to open it.
Mom took the box and reached for something on the bottom. She began twisting whatever it was and when she opened the jewelry box, the most beautiful yet haunting melody began playing. It wasn't just a jewelry box, it was a music box. After I listened to the melody a couple of times, Mom finally spoke, "Your Dad gave this music box to me as a wedding present. I just love the melody and I have listened to it so many times, that I forget sometimes that I'm humming it." Her eyes sparkled from happiness and maybe unshed tears.
I looked at her and said "I love it." I climbed onto her lap and we sat there, on the bed, listening to the music play. We were so into the music, that we were completely surprised when there was a sudden flash. I looked up and saw Dad had taken a picture of us listening to the music. He had a sheepish grin on. "I'm sorry. I just ... I came in here and when I saw the two of you looking so peaceful. I just knew you would like a picture of the moment."
Mom gave a small laugh. "Oh, you're right. You just took us by surprise. I didn't even hear you." After that day, I would go into my parent's room and listen to that melody.

I looked at the picture in my lap and see Mom and myself and am amazed at how peaceful and happy we looked together. It's a beautiful picture of us and a rare photo of Mom. I wonder why Mom's face is wet when I realized I was crying and a tear had fallen on the album. I wiped away my tears and closed the book. I sit there looking at nothing in particular, absentmindedly playing with my ring. It's a habit and I take comfort in it. I usually do it without noticing, just twirling it around my finger over and over again.
After Mom died, Dad gave me Mom's jewelry box because he knew I loved it so much. "Your Mom would have wanted you to have it." Dad said with a sad face and walked away. I took it into my room and when I opened it and actually looked inside of it, I found Mom's favorite ring. It was a simple ring. It had a silver band and a single dark blue stone. Mom wore it all the time and loved it because Dad had given it to her. I put on the ring that day and have never taken it off since then. It reminds me of my parents and their love for each other.
I needed fresh air, so I walked outside the house and walked along the beach. I watched the sun set on the last day I would at home with my Dad and wondered if I would ever be here again.

As much as I wish that week could have gone on forever, time moves forward and the day had come before I knew it. Despite my determination, I knew Dad would never let me go in the end, so in the morning, I quietly snuck out of the house before the sun came up. I had left a note on the refrigerator that said.

I love you Dad.
I'm sorry I left without saying good-bye,
but I knew you would never let me leave.
So, good-bye and
know that I will be safe.
I love you.

He would be upset that I left without him, but in time, he would have to know it was best that I left without a huge spectacle. Our week together was wonderful and hopefully he would go on with his life.
It was a peaceful, easy, and quiet walk to my cave, I always thought of it as my cave, since I had never seen anyone else there. I was pretty sure my family was the only people who knew about it. I had brought nothing with me. I figured that I didn't want him thinking I was moving in with him. At least not permanently. He hadn't said I could come back home, but I was hoping against all odds that I wouldn't have to stay with him forever.
When I reached the cave, I went inside, and somehow I expected it to be empty like it always was. But when I walked in, standing in the middle of the cave, looking at me, was the most stunning boy I had ever seen.