by Amy Cross
***
The elevator door makes a whooshing sound as it opens. I flinch and look over my shoulder, but the sound doesn't seem to have disturbed Mother. Once I'm sure I'm safe, I step into the chamber and use my fingerprints to activate the control panel. I'm still not cared.
***
After stepping out of the chamber on the next floor down, I stop to listen. I can't hear anyone around, and I'm sure Doctor Collier will have gone home by now. After all, it must be almost midnight. I still wait a while, though, before making my way along the corridor and then through the double doors at the far end. Finally I slip through into the main room, and I see the huge water tank at the far end. It hadn't occurred to me that the room would be dark, and I don't dare turn on the lights, so I simply start making my way toward the tank.
***
Where is she?
Standing right in front of the tank, I stare ahead into the darkness. With just a few lights left running on the ceiling, the tank is basically completely dark, and I can barely even make out the sight of the sunken shipwreck near the back section. I certainly can't see any sign of the mermaid, and I suppose she must be sleeping.
I'm so stupid.
I expected all the lights to be on, and I thought the mermaid would come out so that I'd be able to see her. As I make my way along the front of the tank, however, I look into the darkness and feel a sense of disappointment. Even mermaids must have to sleep, and it wouldn't really be fair of me to wake her up. I stop again and look ahead into the darkness, but my bare feet are freezing against the cold metal floor and I'm starting to think that I should just go back to bed.
And then I hear a faint rattling sound.
Something's making a noise inside the tank, over at the far end. I start making my way over, listening to the sound as it continues. Whatever's happening, it doesn't have a regular pattern. Instead, it's as if somebody's jigging something, although I can't imagine what. By the time I get to the other end of the tank, however, I can tell that I'm much closer to whatever's happening, and finally I'm just about able to make out a shape in the darkness.
It's her!
The mermaid is over by the vent, where the bubbles are blasted into the tank. She's definitely not asleep. Instead, she seems to be examining the grille that covers the vent, and she's actually trying to pull part of it away. I take a few cautious steps closer, squinting in an attempt to get a better view of her, but then I have to make my way around to the side of the tank. I lose sight of the mermaid for a moment, but finally I get closer to the large metal machine that hums gently as it pumps bubbles into the water.
I lean closer, but now she's gone.
The rattling sound has stopped, and I can't see the mermaid at all. In fact, I'm starting to wonder whether she was there at all. Maybe the vent was simply making a noise for some other reason, and I imagined the mermaid in the darkness. Either that, or she suddenly noticed that I'd arrived and she didn't want me to see her. I suppose she might still be shy, although I'd really like to talk to her and tell her that I won't hurt her. I just want to see her.
“Hello?” I whisper, staring into the tank's dark water. “Are you there? Can you hear me?”
I wait, but there's no reply.
My heart is pounding and I feel like I should be scared, but somehow I feel brave.
“My name's Sylvia,” I continue, hoping that maybe the mermaid is listening to me. “Are you scared? Is that why you're hiding? I get it, you're not used to being here, but Mother says it wasn't safe for you to be out in the ocean anymore. She says you might not have survived, so really she's helping you. I don't know what she's going to do with you, but she's not a mean person. Everything'll be okay, I promise.”
Again I wait, hoping against hope that maybe the mermaid will swim to the glass and wave at me. Maybe she'll even say something, although I don't know how she'd be able to speak underwater.
There's a lot I don't know.
“Just be patient,” I say finally. “There's no need to be scared, Mother would never hurt you. She's -”
Before I can finish, I remember the sight of the fish-man getting cut open. Suddenly I realize that he might have been her friend, that she might miss him and she might not know he's dead. I hesitate, although I know I can't tell her about what happened to him. For a few seconds I think back to the sight of all that blood running from his dead body, although eventually I manage to push those thoughts aside and focus on the tank again. Still, I can't help feeling really sad, but I tell myself that Doctor Collier only cut the man up because he was already dead.
He and Mother would never do anything like that to the mermaid.
She's alive.
Cutting her up would kill her, and Mother would never, ever want that.
“I suppose you're asleep,” I say, feeling disappointed that I won't see her but also knowing that I'll get another chance. I pause, before taking a step back. “I don't want to wake you up, because that'd be mean, but I'll come and tell you this stuff again another time. Maybe in the daytime, when you're awake and you want to listen.”
I wait again, giving her one final chance to appear, and then I turn and start walking back across the dark room. I'll just have to go back to bed and try to sleep, although as I reach the doorway I stop and look over my shoulder. The rattling sound has returned, but I remind myself that it's just the vent system making stupid noises. It's nothing to do with the mermaid.
A few minutes later, during the ride up in the elevator chamber, I start to feel like I should never have gone down to look at the tank tonight. Mother might be upset if she found out, and I don't want Mother to get upset. By the time I step out of the elevator and start making my way to my room, I've already decided that I won't sneak down again. I'll be good.
And then I hear a voice.
“Sylvia,” Mother groans from her bedroom, sounding as if she's in pain. “Sylvia, is that you? Sylvia, please... Come here...”
I hesitate, hoping that maybe she won't ask again. If she doesn't ask again, I can just go back to bed.
“Sylvia,” she continues after a moment. “Please...”
Chapter Sixteen
Stopping in the doorway that leads to Mother's bedroom, I feel my chest tightening with fear. The room ahead is dark, with just a hint of light coming from the lights of the city far beyond the window. Mother never closes her curtains, she always likes to rise with the sun, but now...
I take a deep breath.
I'm in trouble for getting up in the middle of the night.
“Come here,” she says again, and I hear the sound of her patting the bed. She sounds tired, much more tired than ever before.
As my eyes get used to the darkness, I realize I can just about make out the shape of her in the bed. She's half sitting up, half resting on her elbows.
“I'm sorry I was up,” I tell her, although my throat is very dry. I don't know whether she realizes I went downstairs. If think maybe if she knew, she'd be angrier. “I know I shouldn't have been.”
“Don't worry about that,” she replies. “Come and -”
Suddenly she starts coughing, and it takes several seconds for her to clear her throat.
“Come and give me a cuddle,” she continues finally, still sounding very weak. “I'm sorry I was mean to you early, Sylvia. Today has just been... I'm sorry.”
I stay in the doorway, not really knowing what to do. I should be in bed, and that's where I want to go, but I also don't want to disobey Mother.
“Please,” she says, patting the bed again. “Do you want to sleep in here with me?”
In here?
With her?
She's never, ever suggested that before. I look around the room for a moment, and I can't help but feel that it's pretty warm in here. Then again, that's another thing that Mother always likes. She's often told me that bed is the place where you give your body the perfect space in which to recover from the day's activities.
Finally, supposing that I'd
better do what I'm told, I make my way over to the foot of the bed.
“Climb on,” Mother says, patting the sheets yet again. “Please, Sylvia. Don't you want to?”
I don't want to, but I know that I have no choice. Climbing onto the bed, I crawl up to the top end, making my way across the silk sheets until I reach Mother's side. She's settled back down against her pillow now, and I can just about make out the glass and various pill bottles on her bedside table. After a moment I realize that, over the sound of the air-conditioning system, I can actually hear Mother breathing. I've never noticed that before. Everything around her is usually so busy and frantic.
“Come here,” she says, rolling over and pulling me down, then putting her arms around me and holding me tight. “That's my girl. You've had a big day, haven't you?” She kisses the top of my head, while rubbing my shoulder. “What do you think about the mermaid, Sylvia? Are you scared of her? Do you find her interesting?”
“She's pretty,” I whisper.
“Definitely,” she replies. “What else?”
“Do you think she's happy in that tank?” I ask.
I wait for an answer, but at first she doesn't say anything.
“She won't be in there forever,” she says finally. “There's just something I want from her, Sylvia. It's complicated. She'll get a bigger tank eventually. For now, Doctor Collier says she has enough space. We've studied their natural habitats and we're confident we have a handle on all her needs. She might want a bigger tank, but from a physiological standpoint she doesn't need one. She'll survive just fine in there until we've...”
Her voice trails off for a moment.
“Until we've got what we need,” she adds finally.
“What are you going to do with her?” I ask. “Is she like a pet?”
“A pet?” She starts laughing, although after a moment her laugh becomes a coughing fit. I don't dare move as she tries to recover, although I can feel her whole body shaking as she continues to hold me tight.
The coughing fit lasts several minutes, and when it's over Mother lets out a long, slow sigh. Reaching over, she takes a glass of water and sips. She offers some to me, but I turn her down, and then she puts the glass back on the bedside table before hugging me again.
“I've waited my whole life to get hold of her,” she says finally. “It's ten years since I first heard that they existed, and from that moment on I knew I had to get hold of one of these things. Their habitat was dying, they were dying out, and I considered it to be my moral duty to save at least a specimen or two. Very few people in the world know that mermaids are real, the knowledge is strictly guarded. You have no idea what hoops I had to jump through, just to get a boat near their waters. If it had been left up to other people, their species would be dead within a couple of years.”
“So that's why you brought her here?” I ask. “To save her?”
“Do you know how old that particular mermaid is?” she replies. “Go on, Sylvia. Take a guess.”
“I don't know.” I think about it for a few seconds. “Twenty?”
She starts laughing again, although this quickly turns into another cough.
“She's about a hundred years old,” she says finally. “Maybe ten years either side of that. These creatures have very long life-spans. Although as it turns out, they can die quite easily when circumstances turn against them. They've evolved to survive very well in specific habitats, and they're remarkably quick at adapting, but that male specimen seems to have died of pure stress during the capturing and transportation process. That's not something we ever anticipated. But the important thing is that their bodies can regenerate massive damage, if the circumstances are right. They can fix themselves. We're going to figure out how, and then maybe we can use that.” She pauses. “How can she be a century old, and look so young and beautiful? It's like she and the others like her possess a gift for lengthening life. It seems like magic to us, but it's not magic. There's science behind it, and we're going to figure out that science.”
“So that's why she's here?” I ask.
I wait for an answer, but she simply continues to hold me tight.
“You're not going to hurt her, are you?” I ask.
She starts stroking my hair, running her fingers through the strands.
“I don't want you to hurt her,” I add, although I immediately worry that I'm being too forward.
“We're not going to hurt her,” she says, sounding a little weaker now. “She might experience some discomfort, but I didn't bring her all this way just to do bad things to her. I thought we'd have two of them, so now she'll have to bear the brunt of all the tests we intend to run. That won't be easy for her, but in the long-run she'll be just fine. She'll help us uncover the secrets of her longevity, and then she'll be fine. We'll keep her in a lovely place. I'm having a larger tank constructed at our summer home.”
“You're not going to release her back into the sea?”
“She'd never survive.”
“But -”
“She just wouldn't, Sylvia,” she adds, interrupting me. “I can't explain it all to you now, you're too young, but just trust me on this. I know what's best for her, whether she understands that or not. I know what's best for everyone.” She kisses the top of my head again. “And that includes you.”
“Okay,” I whisper, even though I'm not entirely convinced.
“And now it's time to get some sleep,” she continues, nuzzling my ear briefly. “Do you want to stay in here with me tonight? You can if you want to.”
“I don't know,” I reply.
“It'll be fun,” she says. “Please, Sylvia, for me, I...”
Her voice trails off, and now her breathing sound a little raspy.
“Just stay in here with me tonight,” she continues. “It'll be nice, I promise. Let's just sleep like this for tonight, and in the morning you can come down with me and see the mermaid some more.”
“I don't want to see the man mermaid,” I tell her.
“You have to be a little more grown-up. You have to get tougher, faster. You're too scared of the world.”
“I know, but that doesn't mean I have to see horrible things.”
“I'm only doing this to help you, Sylvia. You'll see in the long run. I'm so scared that you'll never become the woman I know you can be. I'm nudging you along and eventually, one day, you'll thank me. I promise you will.”
I wait, terrified in case she mentions the fact that I went downstairs alone, but now she seems to have fallen silent. I think maybe she only woke up after I came back out of the elevator, which means I didn't get found out. After a moment, however, I start worrying that she's testing me, to see whether I confess to being naughty. This fear builds and builds until I feel like I can't even breathe anymore, and finally I realize that I can't hold anything back, not from Mother. I know she'll probably be really mad, but it's my fault if that happens.
I've never kept a secret from Mother, and I don't want to start now.
“Mother,” I whisper. “I did something naughty. I went downstairs without you and went to look at the mermaid. I didn't see her, or I don't think I did. Maybe I did. I didn't do anything bad, I didn't touch anything, I just talked to her for a while. That's all. But I'm really sorry and it won't happen again and I don't want you to be mad at me.”
There are tears in my eyes now, but several seconds pass and I start to realize that she's asleep. Her breathing sounds slow and ragged, and she clearly didn't hear my confession.
I want to go back to my own room, but she's holding me too tight and I don't want to wake her up and have her get mad at me for leaving. Besides, if she wakes up now, I'll have to confess again, and I don't think I'm brave enough to try twice in a row. I'll tell her in the morning, but for now I suppose I'll have to stay in here with her. She seemed to want to cuddle me tonight, which is nice. I'll stay for her, to make her feel better. It'll only be for one night, anyway. It's not like she's going to suddenly want me to sleep in here with he
r every night.
And I'll tell her what I did in the morning. I won't ever keep secrets from her. I promise I'll tell her when we wake up in the morning.
***
“Wake up.”
Opening my eyes, I'm shocked to see that morning sunlight is streaming into the bedroom. I blink a couple of times, still feeling tired, but finally I realize that I must have finally fallen asleep. I spent ages trying, until I thought I'd have to stay awake all night, but I suppose I nodded off.
Mother's arms are still around me. I know I should just stay here until she decides it's time to get up, but I need the toilet and anyway Mr. Randall will be arriving soon. I can see a clock on the far bedside table, showing that it's 5:58 in the morning, so there's no point going back to sleep. I wriggle slightly, trying to get comfortable, but I need the bathroom so finally I try to very gently lift Mother's arm away.
For some reason, her arm seems very stiff, so I slide myself out and get ready to crawl away. At the last moment, however, I turn and look back at Mother, and then I freeze as soon as I see that her eyes are open. She's staring down at the spot where I was just resting, and she doesn't seem to have reacted to the fact that I moved. In fact, she doesn't seem to be moving at all, and her mouth is slightly open.
Trying to reassure myself, I reach out and touch her hand, only to gasp as I find that she's strangely cold.
“Mother?” I whisper, before nudging her should slightly. “Are you okay?”
When she still doesn't respond, I nudge her again and then I touch the side of her face. Her cheek is cold like her hand, and her skin feels weird, almost a little rubbery.
“Mother?”
I nudge her again, harder, but her body doesn't really react and I can feel the panic rising in my chest. A moment later I hear a very distant bumping sound, and I realize that Mr. Randall is arriving for the morning.