At the speed of it, barely giving him time to breathe.
“I love drawing.”
I settle beside him
And rest my head on his shoulder.
He chuckles.
I can feel the vibrations.
I sigh.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
Strangely, I am.
I will dance every moment I can.
I dance to breakfast.
I dance to lunch.
I dance to our little corner on deck.
I dance to supper.
I dance when I am told to move.
I dance when I am told not to.
This will be my last day.
Tomorrow, I will be sea foam.
I will dance myself to sea foam.
I expect to see the Witch again.
Every shadow,
Every dolphin,
Every sudden move.
But she is not there.
Again and again
She is not there.
My prince is,
Sometimes,
And the sailors
And the captain.
I cannot see my sisters,
But then I would not.
Not until evening. ^_^
I hope that they are well
And have not sacrificed in vain.
I eat a little. Why not?
What does it matter that my stomach
Does not like it yet? It never will again.
And I like the taste of apples.
I dance until I am tired.
I am so tired now
And my feet hurt. :(
I’d forgotten how much my feet hurt.
I wonder whether I’ll become sea foam
From my feet upwards
And I hope it won’t hurt.
Perhaps I’ll become sea foam in my sleep.
Then I certainly won’t know if it hurts.
The sun is shining now.
We did not get that storm I feared.
I am grateful for that.
The sun does not shine all morning.
Sometimes fluffy clouds hide it.
I am sure the sailors are happy. ^_^
I get in their way,
Though I keep my movements
As compact as I can
When there are others near.
My prince seems puzzled,
But he does not ask.
He sketches. The sea, I think.
Calm and blue,
Except where we sail.
The salt stings my nostrils.
And I think… I think…
If I will be sea foam
At the end of the day,
I must do one last thing.
My last chance.
I spin my way overboard.
The water slaps me, hard,
And I find myself being dragged down,
Pulled under, and my legs do not obey.
I cannot swim! O_O
No. No, I can swim.
But the current is so much stronger
And these clothes far too heavy.
And the salt water stings my eyes
And makes me want to throw up.
Above me I hear people shouting, moving.
I struggle to free myself of the soft tall-crab shell.
I have done it often enough,
Though I lack the sharp teeth now.
I struggle to pull away from the current,
Only to find my sisters helping me.
I think they are my sisters.
They do not stay long. :(
Then… The tall-crabs are still shouting,
Still figuring out what to do.
I take a deep breath and dive.
My body is not as fast nor as sleek.
My legs do not want to do what I want them to.
The water gives me goosebumps
But I try to ignore it.
If I will be sea foam…
At least I will have swum in the ocean one last time.
I have not swum in a long time
— There is little opportunity at the castle —
But sometimes we have gone on trips
And I have swum in lakes and rivers.
It is very different from the sea.
It tastes different
And it is more difficult to see.
Rivers, at least, have a current
And I have enjoyed that.
But sweet water,
Tall-crab water,
Is nothing like my first home
And I have missed its embrace.
Perhaps I should not
Have returned the pearl.
I have missed the sting
And the slap,
The shifting heat,
The clarity.
I do not see my sisters.
I am not surprised.
It is day and I am not so deep.
I dive,
But this body is sluggish
And the legs annoy me.
I can use them like a single fin,
But they are clumsy and awkward.
I am clumsy and awkward. T_T
I try to go as deep as I can,
My lungs straining against my effort.
Before long, I feel something wrap around me.
I thrash against the pressure.
Unsure of what it is, what is happening,
I find myself being pulled upwards.
No!
No, I do not want to go up.
I want to go down to my sisters!
I struggle and fight,
Twist and turn and try to break free.
But the grip is firm.
I finally manage to shift around enough
To see what is trapping me.
It is a tall-crab.
In the moment, my first instincts take over.
I try to scratch and bite him.
The soft squishy bit they call a nose
Is just within my reach.
It fills the tall-crab’s mouth with water,
But it fills mine as well.
It cannot filter out of this body.
I am going to die before I become sea foam. T_T
But the pressure has returned,
The tall-crab is dragging me up,
Up and up to blessed air,
Where we spit and gulp and splutter
Because I did not, could not,
Swallow the salty water.
I do not recognise this tall-crab,
But he insists on pulling me
Through the water and
All the way to the little boat
That they have lowered.
They pull me inside
And I do not know whether
I want them to or not. :/
I thought I knew.
Now… I am not sure.
I am never sure of anything,
It seems.
I am sullen.
The tall-crabs row
Me back to the ship.
I do not speak to them
And they, likewise, do not speak to me.
They do not trust me
To climb on board the ship myself.
I can see it in their eyes.
The tall-crab I bit,
The one who pulled me out of the water,
Glares at me from under thick brows.
Little rivulets of blood run down his nose.
I cannot smell it, the blood. :/
I knew that, but until now
I hadn’t noticed.
Knowing something is not
The same as experiencing something.
I slap hands away
When I am on board the ship.
I stagger along the deck
And to the cabin.
I would hide in my favourite corner
But I do not think they would let me. :(
So I hide in the cabin, instead.
I huddle on my bed and pu
ll
The duvet around me
As I glare outward at the door.
I hide in the shadows,
Dark shape lurking,
Hidden in the black,
Save for the reflection
Of light in my eyes.
My prince finds me there,
Calls me a cat,
And settles opposite of me,
Sketchbook propped up on his lap.
We do not speak,
But I find the anger leaving me,
Slowly,
One scratch of charcoal at a time.
I sit very still.
I let my prince draw me.
I want to see the one he did
When I was sitting in the sunshine.
But how can I ask
When this may be the last time
That he will get to draw me at all?
I sit very still.
Keep each fold as it is.
Give my prince the best drawing.
It also means I do not need to speak.
This is good.
I do not trust my hands.
This time tomorrow
I will be sea foam.
I will be gone. T_T
This time tomorrow
They will wonder where I am.
My prince will be alone,
On a ship surrounded be water.
He seems less frightened of the sea now.
I suppose that will be my gift to him.
I wonder if he’ll miss me. :/
I think he will.
But perhaps the princess
They are sailing to meet
Will be kind to him
And laugh with him. ^_^
I will not get to see the endless.
I will not meet this princess.
I find that I do want to.
I’ve never met a princess before!
I wish…
I wish I could stay a tall-crab.
I don’t want to become sea foam. :(
I am restless.
When the sun rises,
Will I become sea foam?
I have tried to sleep
And pretended to sleep.
Outside, through the murky clouds,
The moon is full and bright. ^_^
I am pacing.
My thoughts flit and flutter
Like butterflies.
I will miss butterflies.
When the Witch flows onto the deck
I am only surprised that I am surprised. :/
I should have expected her,
This last night.
Everyone is asleep,
Even the look-out,
Even the captain.
But the Sea Witch will not allow
Harm to befall this ship until morning.
I’m almost sure of that.
The Witch forms,
Skirts flowing around her
Like currents, like rivers.
“Well,” she says.
I do not respond.
What is there left to say?
“Come.”
She gestures for me to follow
Into the water, into the sea.
I do not move.
The Witch smiles at me,
Sadly, I think,
And makes herself comfortable on the deck.
Her skirts soak the wooden boards
Where she sits
And I wonder how they’ll explain it
In the morning.
“Talk to me, little sister.”
I do not know what to talk about.
Besides, I do not want to spend
My last night talking to the Witch. >>
I’d rather stare at the moon
And dream of all the things I could be doing.
Though I’d likely keep pacing
And struggle to hold on to any thought at all.
Like trying to keep hair tidy
On a windy day.
Oh! I could talk about hair! ^_^
The Witch is staring at me so expectantly.
Hair is as good a topic as any,
Though perhaps if I don’t talk about anything
The Witch will freeze time.
Then I would never become sea foam!
But she wants me to tell her something,
So I tell her about the way hair weights
On your head and drags you down.
Mine is long and red like fire.
It is thick and heavy and looks like waves.
Just small ones, lapping up onto the shore,
Frozen in time. ^_^
When I was first on a ship,
I wore it loose.
And it would tangle in the wind
And knot so painfully. T_T
It was like pulling on netting.
On the still land,
Ladies taught me to bind it. ^_^
To keep it in a bun or in braids.
I’ve only learned how to make buns
And a simple braid, but I do not like that one.
Because my hair is long
It takes time to braid my hair
And with my hands busy
It means I cannot speak. :(
A bun is faster,
Even though it makes the ladies
At the castle tsk and shake their heads.
A bun is a peasant’s hairstyle.
Much quicker, much easier.
At the castle, elaborate is better.
I think it’s nonsense
This obsession with hair.
The Witch quirks an eyebrow at me,
But she does not speak.
I wonder whether I’ve done something wrong. :/
Tall-crabs, though…
The ones in the castle, at least,
See hair as a mating trait.
The longer the hair and
The more elaborate the style,
The more desirable a female is.
I don’t know why
I haven’t cut it off.
No. That is a lie.
I know why.
I haven’t because
I had nothing to do it with
And pulling it out hurts so much
And the physician was very angry.
Right now, my hair is loose.
There is no breeze,
So it will not get knotted and painful. ^_^
Not that it would matter.
I’ll be sea foam before I comb it again.
Why did I think this was a good topic?
The Witch merely watches me,
Her dark eyes inscrutable.
She says nothing.
Abruptly, I get up
And start pacing the deck again.
I want her to go away.
I want to be alone.
I want. I want.
“Have you discovered
What love is?”
No! No, I haven’t!
I tell her about the meaning
Of hair and of the princess
That my prince is sailing to meet.
I am certain she knows
And I do not want to spend my night
Like this.
I stomp along the deck.
I have nothing to throw at anyone.
I have nothing to kick against
Except wood that will not move.
I want to… I want to…
I want to scream, to vent these feelings,
This frustration that my night
Is not my own.
Somehow, the Witch seems to understand
What I am trying to express, trying to say.
I tell her about the stories
And the people and the way
That tall-crabs are nothing like
The stories that they love to tell.
I tell her about my prince
And how he does not want to marry.
I hope the princess will be kind
And understanding.
I
tell her my prince loves sketching
That he has made drawings of me
That I have not seen. Will never see now.
I tell her that love is impossible
Because no one ever agrees on
What it is and is not.
I also tell her that the stories…
What they explore as love?
I don’t want that.
That is why I will become sea foam. T_T
I will become sea foam.
I know I will.
I don’t want to. T_T
I’d miss my prince.
I’d miss the wind
And the sun
And the forest.
I’d miss the physician
And the baker’s boy.
I tell the Witch that I’ve promised
The baker’s boy that I will teach
Him how to dance when I return.
Now he will never learn to dance.
Not from me. T_T
I will never learn how to bake bread.
I will never dance again.
Not the formal, careful movements
Of the castle and the court,
Nor the abandon of dancing
Without consideration
Simply because there is music
And I can.
“Dear, little sister,” the Witch says.
She says nothing else.
I have railed at her,
Thrown all my bitterness
Into the sea, like pebbles,
And tossed my dreams after it.
I slump onto the ground,
Exhausted.
I’d miss my friends.
I’d miss my sisters.
I miss my sisters.
I miss my friends.
I don’t want to become sea foam.
But I hope dawn will come soon
And this will be over.
The Witch stays where she is.
I stay where I am.
We sit, together,
Far apart.
We do not speak.
I think I’m crying.
I don’t want to be crying. T_T
My nose gets all stuffy
And my head will hurt.
I don’t want to be sea foam.
I want to stay here.
I want to see deer
And hunt on a horse
And discover how tall-crabs
Make swords and arrows.
I want to know why
Tall-crabs look different.
What makes one tall-crab dark
And another pale? I don’t know.
The physician didn’t know,
So perhaps no one does.
I want to see the endless,
Travel beyond the endless,
Meet the princess that my prince will marry.
I want to dance at their wedding
And laugh and sing with all my body
For the joy of it.
I have been living a tall-crab story.
I want to see it end the way a tall-crab story ends.
All of this wanting
And the Witch says nothing.
She merely smiles her smile.
Sometimes we sit in silence.
Others I talk, nonsense words or sense words,
I do not even know. T_T
I talk just to fill the silence,
To see my hands move
Sea Foam and Silence Page 8