Human Date

Part 1

Rayna drags Emma from booth to booth of the flea market. Each table is laden with human treasures—treasures she’s never even seen before. And the best part is, they’re all used treasures. At some point in the existence of any given object, it was once used—possibly once loved—by a human. Each of the novelties has its own story, its own journey of how it came to be sitting on a faded table under a dust ridden tent on the coast of what the humans call New Jersey.

Things here are labeled as “vintage” and “antique” and “repurposed”. Back home, the Syrena have a stash of human items stored in the vast Cave of Memories, statues and stone containers and other boring sculpted pieces. As a fingerling, she’d thought them fascinating—now that she’s seen more of what land has to offer, she knows better. None of the things in the Cave of Memories are unique enough to be considered vintage or antique. To Rayna, all those things sitting sedentary in infrequently visited chambers of the Cave are simply “old”. Old, and uninteresting. Who cares about golden shields that long dead humans used in war? What’s the use in that? Certainly an impractical shield can’t compare to a tin bucket punched full of holes and repurposed as a lamp shade. Humans need lamp shades. They don’t need impotent, chunky shields made of gold.

But here at the flea market—she’s still not sure why it’s called a flea market because she has yet to see a single booth selling fleas—there’s so much more. Furniture and tools and books and toys to play with. They even have creepy life-size doll versions of humans wearing colorful clothing—mannequins or something, she thought Emma had called them.

And the jewelry. So much breathtaking jewelry. Even now, she spies a ring three booths ahead. It’s vibrant and shiny, reflecting the thin tentacles of sunlight streaming in from the holes in the tent. Rayna tugs Emma’s wrist, leading her to the prize just sitting there on the table. Why aren’t these other humans looking at it? Do they not know magnificence when they see it?

The gem is an oval-shaped lavender hue, almost the exact color of her own eyes, and it’s just about as big as the padding of her thumb. “Emma,” Rayna breathes. “Look at this.” Just as she reaches for it, a hand snatches it from the table.

The woman belonging to the hand—the hand that now clutches the precious ring protectively against her chest—gives Rayna a superior look. “I’m sorry young lady, but I was just about to buy this.”
Rayna steps toward the older human woman, who eyes her warily. It’s something her older brother Grom, the Triton king, had taught her. To take up someone’s space in order to intimidate them. “Liar,” she says.
“Rayna!” Emma hisses. Oh, Emma. So afraid to attract attention. But to be fair, Rayna did promise to behave on this outing. Of course, that was before she saw this ring.

“What? I’m just supposed to walk away? That hum—lady—just took my ring. She wasn’t even looking at it until I did.” This could technically be true, but Rayna can’t know for sure because she was so enraptured with the piece that she didn’t pay much attention to anything else.

“I was going to pick it up when you walked over here,” the human woman says. She slides the ring onto her finger—jams it really, because it took a lot of effort to get it crammed down past those bulbous joints of hers—and holds it up for the man behind the table to see. “You see? It fits perfectly.”

The man starts to look uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He gives Rayna an apologetic look. “Looks like she did grab it first.”

She points at the woman’s hand. “You can’t tell me you believe that ring fits on her fat finger.” She ignores the indignant huff from her new nemesis.

“Sorry, miss. It’s none of my concern whether or not it fits.”

Rayna leans in toward the man; he has the good sense to take a step back. Emma jerks on her arm, trying to budge her from the booth. It’s not going to happen. With her free hand, she grabs onto the edge of the table. “Make her give it back.”

“Rayna,” Emma pleads. “Let it go.”

“Is something wrong, princess?” Toraf says from behind them. He and Galen, her twin brother, must be finished looking at the video games a few booths down.

Toraf takes Rayna’s hand and kisses it. Relief washes over her like a splash of ocean. Toraf will know how to fix this. He’ll get her what she wants. He always does.

“Yes,” she says, showing him a victimized expression. “This human won’t give me my ring back.”

“I saw it first!” the woman snaps.

“She grabbed it right out of my hands,” Rayna explains to Toraf, in her most pouty tone. “It was horrible.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “You’re not seriously going to believe that, are you, Toraf?”

He crosses his arms. He gives the man behind the table a pointed look. “My princess wants that ring,” he says. “We’ll pay you double what you’re asking.”

“Oh geez,” Emma mutters.

This exasperates the man. “I’m sorry, but she grabbed it first. It wouldn’t be right.”

Toraf seizes Galen behind him, then shoves him toward the table. “Okay, then he’ll pay you triple for the ring.”

Galen sighs and reaches for his wallet. That’s the good thing about having a brother who knows what kind of tantrum you’re capable of. “How much?” he says.

The seller scowls. “I’m sorry, but it would be bad business to accept money for a ring that was already claimed by someone else.”

The woman pushes her way back to the table. “Can I please just pay for this and go?”

“Were you waiting on instructions?” Rayna says. “Because I’ll tell you what you can do with that ring.” But Toraf is dragging her away from the booth now. He stops briefly to whisper something to Galen—probably that they’re leaving earlier than expected—and then pulls her by the wrist away from the table. Away from the ring.

She digs her heels into the sand, but she’s no match for Toraf’s strength.

“Princess, I’ll carry you out of here if I have to,” he says in a low tone. He will, she knows. He’ll pick her up and sling her over his shoulder and take her to Galen’s truck in the parking lot.

Rayna’s shoulders slump. “It’s just that I wanted a human ring. Like Galen’s going to get Emma.”

“How did you know he’s getting her a ring?”

“You think you two are so secretive, don’t you? I know more than you think.” Simply because she spies on them every chance she gets. And now that they’re spending more time on land, she doesn’t have to worry about Toraf sensing her.

He presses his lips together. It’s a face she finds adorable, but never tells him. “It’s some human tradition. When they’re mated or married or whatever they call it, they give each other rings.”

She leans against him then, wrapping her arms around him. His first reflex is to defend himself—and it probably should be—but when she presses her cheek against his chest he relaxes. Strong arms embrace her. “It’s just that I wanted a human ring too,” she says into his shirt. “We’re married, you know?”

He stiffens. “Why have you never told me this?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t realize I wanted it until I saw that ring. And you know what else?” She lifts her head to meet his gaze. “I want to go on human dates.”

“Dates? What do you mean?”

“I mean that I want you to take me on a date. Do more human things with me. You know how much I like doing human things.”

“But we’re not human.” Toraf isn’t as comfortable on land as Galen is. He prefers the water—or spending time with Rayna on their island. It’s the only place where they can have true privacy. She’s been trying to ease him into the human world slowly, but she’s almost at her threshold.

She needs Toraf to love land as much as she does.

Nestling back into his chest, she revels in the fact that he is bigger than her by almost half. His arms instinctively wrap around her, and she plants a small kiss to his chin. This usually softens him up more than anything. He enjoys when she spontaneously kisses him. “Please, Toraf? It would be really special to me.”

He sighs into her hair. He doesn’t hesitate when she really wants something. She has a powerful sway with him, one that she tries not to take advantage of. But sometimes (most times) it’s just too easy. “Okay, princess. I’ll talk to Galen. He can drive us.”