Drowning Mermaids

by Nadia Scrieva

  As Trevain moved to pull his brother out of the chair in which he had collapsed, the woman called Undina gently touched his sleeve near his elbow. Although her hand had not even grazed his skin, he was startled by the intimacy and felt his whole body grow tense.

  “Please,” she said quietly. “You and I have been sitting alone all night. Life has been happening all around us. I would like to partake of it. Would you please sit with me for a little while?”

  He stared at her, searching for any sign of humor. She did not seem as put off by his grey hair and his limp as he had thought she would be. On the contrary, she seemed to hardly notice.

  “I have two younger sisters as well,” she was saying with a ghost of a smile on her lips, “perhaps I could tell you about them.”

  Against his better judgment, Trevain found himself using his foot to slide his snoring brother a few feet away before seating himself closer to Undina. He could not believe she had invited him to chat. A smile threatened to reveal his gladness, but he counseled it to desist.

  “I enjoyed your dance so much. More than I can tell you,” Trevain admitted to her.

  She looked at him appreciatively and nodded. “Thank you. It is so invigorating to dance for an audience.”

  “Where are you from?” he asked her.

  Her eyes widened slightly in surprise at his direction of questioning. “Not far from here,” she answered. Then in a low voice which he imagined she thought he could not hear, she added, “But also quite far from here.”

  In fact, he could not hear those last few words, but luckily he had a knack for reading lips. “I see,” he answered, “are you from Canada?”

  She raised an eyebrow, hesitating before casting her eyes downward, “Uh, something like that. How did you guess?”

  “You have a slight accent,” he said. “I can’t quite determine what it is, but… never mind. So, what brings you to these parts?”

  Her slender shoulders rose in a carefree shrug and her eyes lit up as she smiled. “I have chosen to follow the waves and see where they take me.”

  “Well, they’ve taken you to a strip club in Soldotna, Alaska,” he said, leaning forward. He studied the curve of her cheek and chin, and returned his gaze to her compelling dark eyes. They were hypnotizing at close range. “Those waves may be mighty but they don’t have magic in them, child. You need to master them and choose where it is you want to be.”

  She looked up at him harshly. There was a flash of anger in her murky irises as she answered, “I think you and I must be acquainted with very different waves.”

  “How is that?” he asked.

  “The ones I know do have magic and cannot be mastered.” Her serious expression disappeared and her smile returned. “Anyway, I do not think you should be calling me ‘child’ since we already established that I am older than you.”

  “I’ll be fifty next year,” he admitted in a crestfallen voice. “What are you, eighteen?”

  “Six hundred and three,” she answered, wrapping a strand of her dark hair around her finger. There was something whimsical about the way she moved.

  “I see that you’re protective of your personal information,” he observed. “That is very wise in a place like this. I didn’t mean to offend you, but compared with me, you are really but a child, Undina.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “I may seem young, Captain Trevain Murphy, but my life has been very difficult. I have experienced a lot of hardship and I do not feel like a child.”

  While her eyes were closed, he used the opportunity to drink in the oval shape of her face, allowing every precise word she spoke to register in his mind. Her eyes opened and she looked out across the room at the silhouette of a tall redhead.

  She turned back to him and gripped the arms of her chair abruptly as she pushed herself into a standing position. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Trevain, but I should probably go.”

  He nodded, feeling his stomach sink. He knew that he would scare her away. He half wished that his brother had not initiated the irrational introduction to begin with; he should not have ever spoken to her. Trevain had never been a very sociable person since he spent most of his time buried in his work. He did not possess any friends who were not paid employees, and his only family was Callder, who was also a paid employee. Every interaction in his life centered on his financial arrangements, and he only knew how to speak to someone when their livelihood depended on their cooperation with him.

  The woman called Undina had stepped around the table, and was moving past him to surely disappear from his life forever. This thought made him reach out to gently catch her wrist within his hand. He marveled at the feel of her tiny bones as his longest finger and thumb overlapped each other. She had paused in her departure, awaiting his words.

  He hesitated, deciding what he should say to her. They could be the last words he ever spoke to her, and they were important. Since Leander had disappeared, Trevain’s mind had been filled with all manner of darkness. His thoughts had been chaotic and racing as logic and emotion waged a painful and confusing battle over trying to make sense of a man’s unnecessary death. However, since he laid eyes on Undina, his mind had felt clear, purified, and temporarily relieved of strain. She had filled every aching corner of his soul with the tenderness and strength of her dance. He would do anything to hang on to that feeling. Her mysterious nature occupied every spare effort of his mind as he tried and failed to make sense of her.

  He opened his mouth, intending to apologize, or perhaps compliment her—anything that he could think of to make her stay a moment longer without sounding too desperate. He believed he should say something so profound that it would leave an impression on her, and inspire her in some way, since he would never see her again.

  Instead, the words that left his mouth inquired, “Would you please dance for me in private, Undina?”

  Chapter 4: Witness Her Being

  They sat together in the private booth. It was not completely closed off from the rest of the club’s VIP area, but a beaded curtain over the only exit gave a sense of privacy to the small room. The dark-haired woman glanced up apprehensively whenever someone walked by the curtain, almost as if she was expecting to be attacked at any moment. The tall redhead that Trevain had noticed earlier was lingering not far away.

  Trevain was wondering why he had thought to purchase private dances. He had not asked a girl to dance for him in close to thirty years. The initial experience had been a rather boring and expensive one that he had chosen not to repeat. Now, he knew that he would have done just about anything to secure a few more moments of being close to the woman called Undina. Yet another one of his relationships was now dependent on money, but he was more comfortable that way. Trevain felt it was worth having the security that she would not leave—he gained something from their interaction that he could not place a price tag upon. He just needed to sit with her and witness her being. The reassurance of her existence somehow swelled his courage.

  “Would you like me to begin?” she asked softly. The section of the club that they had moved to was much quieter, and Trevain could hear every nuance of her enigmatic accent. He could have sworn that he had heard similar pronunciation before, although he could not determine where. It did not sound Canadian.

  “You don’t have to actually dance for me,” he said, lifting his hands as he explained. “I would prefer if we just talked. Is that okay with you?”

  There was skepticism in her shadowy eyes. “I would love that, but I should probably return to work.” She glanced up at the curtain, as if considering leaving. There was a look of purpose on her face.

  Trevain reached into his jacket for his wallet. Unfolding the creased leather with his work-roughened fingers, the captain deftly counted out some bills and extracted them. He handed them over to her with a smile. “A thousand dollars for the pleasure of your company. A thousand dollars if you’ll sit with me and tell me about yourself and your life until the end of the night.”
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  She stared at the money, and then back at his face hesitantly. “Trevain, I am not sure…”

  “Please,” he said, grasping her hand and pushing the folded bills against her palm. He closed her fingers around the bills and held her small hand in his larger ones. “I don’t get a chance to talk to someone with a brain very often. You’ve seen the morons I work with! I feel like a good conversation with you could be really rejuvenating.”

  She smiled at him weakly, and gave him a gentle nod. “Thank you,” she whispered, “this is so kind of you.”

  “Nonsense,” he said, gesturing back to the main area of the club where his brother was being taken care of by the other deplorably drunk sailors, “Callder boasted about my finances enough for you to know that I am quite comfortable. These aren’t my last pennies, dear. I want to know more about you.”

  As he spoke, she observed a twinkle of mirth in his eye. It pleased her enough to feel comfortable in accepting his gift and opening up to him.

  “I will tell you as much as I can,” she conceded, graciously tucking the money into her purse. She glanced up through the beaded curtain where a swift flash of wild red hair was visible. She turned back to Trevain, and seemed to force herself to relax, making an effort to smile. “I must admit that I am not sure why you are so curious about me. Your life must be far more interesting than mine.”

  “I would like to know why a talented young woman like you is dancing in a strip club in Soldotna.”

  She flinched, but instantly recovered herself and nodded. “For the most part, I am here to learn about people and the world. I have lived an unusually restricted life, caged up for far too long.”

  Trevain mused over her words. He stared down at her long, slender fingers which rested lightly on her thigh. While he wanted to learn about her, he did not want to press too far or make her uncomfortable. He decided to prompt her with an open ended and vague question. “Caged?”

  “Yes.” The woman called Undina looked up at him with a guarded expression on her face. She could see that he wanted to know more, and she did not want to disappoint him. She struggled to speak the difficult words. “He kept me imprisoned for a very long time, along with my two sisters. I had no connection to the outside world for many years, and I lost track of time.”

  “Your father?” he inquired, prompting her again.

  “Yes.” She lifted her hand to her neck, rubbing her throat nervously. “My father was the sort of man who made fairytale villains look like gentlemen. Very powerful and very overprotective. He was a man of the sea, much like you are… but he was not kind. He was commanding and everything had to go his way. I have been well educated and have many skills, but until recently, I have had zero practical application for them.” Her expression darkened and her tone grew harsh. “If my father was successful, I would never have seen any portion of the world again. I would never have felt the midnight sun tanning my skin.”

  “So this is an act of rebellion against him?”

  She grimaced. “No. No. My father is dead now. This is my first very small, rather silly act of freedom.”

  The captain shook his head, beginning to understand. “I’m sorry for your loss. My dad died when I was very young too.”

  “How old were you?” she asked him gently.

  “Seventeen. My father was the captain of the original Fishin’ Magician. When he was killed in a senseless accident, I took over. I vowed I would never let another sailor die on my boat.” Trevain gritted his teeth. “And I didn’t… until two days ago.”

  She placed her palm against his cheek. “Do not blame yourself. The sea takes lives callously.”

  He seemed surprised by the touch of her soft hand against his face. He immediately felt self-conscious and wondered when last he had shaved his face. He was sure that his stubble felt rough and prickly against her delicate skin. He cleared his throat, in discomfort at her attentive affection. He did not know how to respond. “Anyway, my dad died a very long time ago,” Trevain said. “Your loss is much fresher, and I should be comforting you, not the other way around!”

  “No,” she responded, withdrawing her hand and clenching it into a small fist. She shook her head fiercely. “It sounds like your father was a good man that you regretted losing. I cannot say the same for mine. What about your mother—is she well?”

  Trevain stiffened slightly and stared at the pattern on the tacky wallpaper before giving a small shrug. “I hardly know, to be honest. She was committed to a psychiatric hospital when I was twelve. I used to visit her frequently, but as I grew older and her health deteriorated, I began to visit less and less. It’s hard to see her falling apart the way she is.”

  “My sympathies are with you,” the woman said in a low and gentle tone. Her voice sounded like it was made of wind. “Your youth must have been difficult.”

  “It was harder on Callder than it was for me,” Trevain said, gesturing to the main area of the club. “That’s why he is the way he is. I couldn’t take care of him as well as our parents would have been able to.”

  She smiled. “I think you did a great job. Forgive me if this is too familiar; I hardly know you, but I believe Callder could not have asked for a kinder or more capable big brother.”

  The compliment moved him. He felt suddenly embarrassed to be revealing so much of his life, and he felt the need to distract himself. She was sitting very near to him, and he felt the desire to touch her dark hair. Pretending to have an excuse, he gently reached out to tuck a few strands behind her ear. He marveled at the silken texture; even her hair seemed too velvety and luminous to be real. Of course, he had not touched a woman’s hair in as long as he could remember, so perhaps there was nothing special about the texture. She seemed surprised at the boldness of his touch, but not offended. As his fingers brushed her ear, he felt himself swallow.

  “Undina,” said the captain quietly, “I also hardly know you, but I think there are much better things that you can do with your newfound freedom than this.”

  She bit her lip and gave him a hard look before responding. “I have two younger sisters who are now under my care. I am sure you understand this. I want to do the very best I possibly can for them, and I want to be able to keep them safe from future harm.”

  “I’m sorry,” Trevain said. His fingers ached to reach out and touch her again, but he could not find a good excuse. He did not want her to be upset with him. “I don’t know your situation.”

  She nodded in acknowledgement, giving him a small smile. “There are many positive aspects to this job. I have to look at it that way. It is a way to learn about the world. It is a way to meet interesting men like yourself, and a way to interact with other human beings. It may not be the best way, but I am just grateful to be free to make my own choices and live my life… even if I choose poorly.”

  “I understand,” Trevain answered thoughtfully. He surrendered to the urge to touch her shoulder. Resting his elbow on the back of the sat behind them, he brushed his thumb lightly over her collarbone. Her skin was so thin there; as thin as silk or gauze.

  “The world is so large,” she murmured, enjoying his caress. “There is so much land, so much sea. I have been yearning to experience life for the longest time.”

  “Life is a good thing,” he answered. As he gazed down at her half-lidded eyes and somehow melancholy smile, Trevain was overcome with the urge to kiss her. His self-control was weakened by the moisture of brandy and beer, and his torso seemed to be inching forward without his permission. He was a few inches away from her lips when he was suddenly distracted by movement on the other side of the beaded curtain. A redhead’s piercing green eyes sent him a wary look of appraisal. He was startled by the distrustful look in that fierce face. The fiery glare quickly disappeared, but not before it had instantly reacquainted him with reality. The redhead’s eyes had a strange quality about them, gleaming almost in the way a cat’s eyes did in the dark.

  He pulled away from the girl that he had been intending to
kiss a moment before. Trevain inwardly cursed himself. Undina’s manner of speech had made him feel more comfortable with her than he could have imagined. He had forgotten to remind himself of how young she was, and what a lecher he would be if he made any sort of advance on her. Although he did not feel much older than she was, and he did not feel like she was mentally or physically juvenile in any way, he had to remind himself of his age. He chastised himself for nearly crossing his personal boundaries of courteous conduct.

  “That redhead; she’s a friend of yours?” Trevain asked, clearing his throat. “It looks like she doesn’t trust me.”

  Undina’s eyes shot wide open in surprise. She squinted out of the small room before releasing a tiny burst of laughter. “Yes, she’s just paranoid about everything. She likes to keep aware of her surroundings.”

  Trevain had never heard her laugh before, and it was just as powerful and pure as her dance. She threw her head back slightly, and opened her lips, and let the laughter bubble up from deep within her. It stirred him. What he would not give to see her laugh like that more often! He decided then that he would find a way to hear that laughter again.

  “Where are you and your sisters staying?” he asked. “Do you have friends or relatives in Soldotna?”

  “No. I am renting us a room in a nearby motel. Not the best accommodations, but we are grateful. It is so good to be far away from home; away from all the depressing memories…”

  “How old are your sisters?” Trevain asked.

  She hesitated. “Elandria is only slightly younger than I am, although she is far more mature. Corallyn is… much younger. She is just a child.”

  He wondered why she was not giving specific ages. He did not care. “Undina, forgive me if this is too bold and presumptuous…” Trevain tried to stop himself from saying the words as they spilled forth. Was this the brandy talking? What was he thinking? “I feel strangely connected to you because of what you’re going through. I know how hard it was to raise Callder when I was just a kid myself. I can help, if you’d let me.”