I can’t find her. I head into the channel where I know it’s too early. There will be boats gliding along the surface heading in both directions, and I should stay away. But my heart is racing, and I feel cold in the base of my stomach. Where could she have gone? All this time she had found safety, with me watching over her and keeping other Mer away. She had to know that I was the source of her safety, even if we didn’t speak. In the darkness, I swim through the channel, weaving around the ropes and flotation devices which are attached to the crab pots in great number. When I reach the shore where Verona would regularly watch TV, my heart skips a beat.
Verona sits upon the pier of the house next door. From a distance, I break the surface of the water to get a clearer view, holding my breath of saltwater. Her hair is more golden in the waning moonlight. And my gaze fixes on her long, white legs, dangling just above the surface of the water.
The full moon had been a few nights ago, and she went ashore. The overwhelming cacophony of insects and frogs drown out the many questions I have, but the biggest one, is “Why?” A breeze picks up and blows her hair around her face. She pushes the long tendrils back behind her ears. She’s watching something in the distance, and my heart breaks looking at her. Why do I feel such a sense of dread?
A human man approaches her from the house, and I slip below the surface of the water. My lungs had been ready to burst, and now I release the breath of seawater I’d been holding. This couldn’t be right. She had said she had no intention of going on land. Why did she decide to now?
Large, bare feet break the surface of the water near where Verona had been sitting. The young man sits next to her. His deep voice warns her, “What are you doing? You’ll fall in.”
His hands are on her shoulders. My heart sinks further.
“No, I won’t,” Verona says, shrugging from his grip. She leans back, and her feet break the surface of the water. If I reach forward, I could take hold of her foot and pull her in. But it wouldn’t help anything.
“So now you’re an expert at being contrary?” the young man asks. It had only been a few days. How could he be so familiar with her already?
Verona pulls her feet from the water, and the two of them continue talking. I listen to them laugh and talk about the stars. The young man doesn’t trip over his words the way I always do. He says things as he feels and doesn’t worry about reason or emotion. A pinprick of jealousy spikes in my heart for the human boy.
Eventually, the two of them leave me by the pier, and I break the surface of the water once more. I watch the two of them walk together, much more comfortable with each other’s presence than Verona and I have been together. I shake my head and sink below the waterline. No. She and I are of the same kind. I can wait.
I stay nearby the shore, waiting, watching, not sure what to do next. I need to see her, to speak to her. But for now, I’ll wait.
The End
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About the Author
Pauline Creeden is an award-winning, USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary fantasy, apocalyptic thrillers, and steampunk. She tries to keep her stories bright and inspirational but reflective of the dark world surrounding us. Caught in the Current is a part of her series of Mermaid Tales. Look for Scales and Salt to read more about Verona and Bailey.
Read More from Pauline Creeden
http://paulinecreeden.com
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