Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  The siren was happy to see the other mermaid though. "I haf not see you in so long!"

  William' companion smiled brightly and hailed. "Likewise! It's been so long, Rip van Winkle!"

  "Indeed, mein Liebling! Tell me, where haf you been? Und what brings you up here on this fine day?"

  The stagehand threw an arm around the little mermaid's shoulder. "William Hanna here wants to know about a human that came sailing through here a few seasons ago, and who I think you might know?"

  "Perhaps I might. I see every ship that sails through here. Well, tell me quickly!"

  They told her about the Count, the fireworks display, the storm, the shipwreck out at sea, and William' rescued. They told her of how William had brought him to land, but did not know where he lived on it.

  "Ah, the Count? Ja, I know him. He lives just a few leagues yonder, on a castle by the sea."

  "Really? Can you take me to him?" William cried, eyes wide with hope and joy.

  "Of course, you silly fish!" Rip van Winkle grinned, her hands on her knees.

  William nearly cried for joy as she followed the siren and the stagehand to the Count's castle. At first she hopped over the water like a dolphin hopping on the side of a ship, and then she swam in a straight line under water because it was faster and easier. She gazed up at the siren that flew over the water though, and followed her like a black star in the heavens.

  William followed them for many leagues until they brought her right in front of where they knew the Count's castle stood.

  It was built of grey stone with great marble staircases, one of which led down to the sea. Magnificent Gothic domes rose above the roof, and between the pillars all around the building were marble statues that looked most lifelike. Through the open lofty windows one could see into the splendid halls, with their costly silk hangings and wine-rich tapestries, and walls covered with paintings that were delightful to behold. In the center of the main hall a large fountain played its columns of spray up to the Gothic-domed roof, through which the sun shone down through the stained glass windows and the water and upon the lovely plants that grew in big basins.

  William swam up with caution. It was looked dark and foreboding, even in daylight, yet strangely alluring as the man she had fallen for.

  William placed her hands upon the cold marble staircase that led into the sea and sighed contentedly, and the siren and stage hand knew they had brought her peace.

  Now that William knew where Count Ramos lived, many an evening and many a night she spent there in the sea. She swam much closer to shore than any mermaids would dare venture, and she even went far up a narrow stream, under the splendid marble balcony that cast its long shadow over the water. Here she used to sit and watch the Count when he thought himself quite alone in the bright moonlight.

  "What a beautiful night," he would murmur, gazing up at the full moon. "Nights like these make me want a bit to drink. Yes… such a nice, quiet night."

  William would swoon over the baritone of his lovely voice, and long to join him so that they might admire the night together.

  Many a night she would lean her cheek against her arm and look up at him fondly, with the moon and stars shining in her eyes, and watch him sip deep red wine as he too looked up at the night sky. He never looked quite as glorious as when he was bathed in silver white moonlight, and he seemed to believe there was no lovelier sight in the world. William soon grew to love the full moon and stars because he loved them so.

  Schrödinger often tagged along and had choice words.

  "I thought you liked the sunlight more than anything," Schrödinger said.

  "Well, now I like the moon too!" William snapped.

  On many evenings she saw him look out from his balcony or sail out in his fine boat, with music playing and flags a-flutter. She would peep out through the green rushes, and if the wind blew her long golden hair, which she was beginning to grow out because she wanted to look her best for the Count (even if he could not see her), anyone who saw it thought it a strange sight.

  She nearly got caught only once, and it was when the strange one-eyed human was walking by. He was out for a morning hunt with one of his dogs, and when it caught her scent it ran over to her. William was afraid of dogs and so hid deeper into the bushes. The one-eyed human, thinking the dog had found some quarry, had approached the bush with what the siren called a gun, and pulled back the branches. William then splashed him in the face and kicked up such a torrent that neither the human nor the dog could see as she plowed through the roots and delved deep in the heart of the river. By the time the human managed to wipe the water from his one good eye, she was crouched at the river floor and waited eagerly for him to leave.

  On many nights she saw the one-eyed human come out to sea with his crew of fishermen. They talked of many things, though mostly about women, drink, paychecks, and the bosses that gave it. She learned that they had lost their ship out on the night of the storm and could not afford to buy a new one, and so made due working in the service of the Count. With his money they rented a ship that they used to sail him about and catch fish for his meals, and worked as guards in his castle the rest of the time. She often heard them tell about the Count, and each time they had their complaints, but ultimately agreed on how fair he was. This made her proud to think that it was she who had saved his life when he was buffeted about, half dead among the waves. And she thought of how softly his head had rested on her breast, and how tenderly she had kissed him, though he knew nothing of all this nor could he even dream of it.

  Increasingly she grew to like human beings, however scruffy and hang-dog those that worked near the sea were, and more and more she longed to live among them. Their world seemed so much vaster and brighter than hers. They could skim over the sea in ships, and mount up into the lofty peaks high over the clouds, and their lands stretched out in woods and fields farther than the eye could. All within reach of the sun's light. All within sight of the moon and stars. There was so much she wanted to know. The royal sisters could not answer all her questions, so she asked the siren who knew about the "upper world," which was what she said was the right name for the countries above the sea.

  The siren answered all of her questions admirably, and even added many details that William never would have thought to ask.

  "If men aren't drowned," the little mermaid asked, "do they live on forever? Don't they die, as we do down here in the sea?"

  "Of course," the siren said, "all living beings must die, though human lifetimes are even shorter than yours."

  "How much shorter?"

  "You can live to be three hundred years old, but when you perish you turn into foam on the waves, and don't even make graves to mark your dear ones."

  William thought briefly of her parents, and how they had disappeared in blood and darkness, and how she had nothing to remember them by except the memory in her heart.

  "From the sea you are drawn, and to the sea you return." The siren said, "It is quite the same with human beings on the earth. 'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,' as the humans say. From the earth they are drawn, and to the earth they return."

  "How strange. Is that why their lives are shorter?"

  "Perhaps. Who can say? Their lives are certainly much harder. Once their lives are spent, after only a few decades, they have a soul which lives forever, long after their bodies have turned to dust. It rises through thin air, up to the shining stars. Just as you rise through the water to see fathoms below, and I over the water to see the lands on earth, so men rise up to beautiful places unknown, which we shall never see."

  "Why weren't we given immortal souls?" the little mermaid asked sadly.

  "Oh, we are. You need not worry about that," the siren smirked. "All living beings with goodness in their hearts possess a soul. I can guarantee you that."

  "But you said humans rise above the world when they die."

  "They do. It is their lot."

  "But then why don't we…?"

  "Oh, becau
se you are not a child of the earth, you are a daughter of the sea. The place you go after you leave this world is quite is different from those on land. Same with me and other daughters of the air. Same with all from different lots in life."

  "Then I will go a different place than the Count when I die?" the little mermaid asked sadly, her heart breaking.

  "You will die many hundreds of years after him, so I think where you go after should be the least of your worries."

  "Well, I would gladly give up my three hundred years if I could be a human being only for a day, and later share in that heavenly realm with the Count."

  "You must not think about that," said the siren. "You fare much more happily and are much better off than the folk up there."

  "Says you!" the little mermaid cried. "I've always hated it down there at the bottom of the sea!"

  "Bite your tongue, you don't know what's in store for you on land!" the siren said peevishly.

  "Then I must also die alone and float as foam upon the dark sea, just as my dear mother and father after they met their end…" William felt as though her skin were about to crawl, and brushed the sea foam off her arms, "not hearing the music of the birds, nor seeing the beautiful flowers or the golden sun!"

  "Now, let's not be dramatic," the siren said, "You will see many wonderful things after you die, and I and the Count and all others once the world has come to a rest and the sea has dried up and the mountains turned to dust in the wind. There's a lot to rejoice over, so you need not burden yourself with such unhappy thoughts."

  "But is there any way I could go where the Count goes, and be with him forever?"

  "Nein!" the siren grinned, "Not unless he loved you so much that you meant more to him than his own life. If his every thought and his whole heart cleaved to you so that he would let a priest join his right hand to yours and would promise to be faithful here and throughout all eternity, then his soul would pour into yours, and you would share in mankind's afterlife."

  William smiled on hearing this.

  "But that can never come to pass!" Schrödinger piped in, "The very thing that is your greatest beauty here in the sea would be considered ugly on land."

  "Really? What?" William cried in surprise.

  "Take a guess!" Schrödinger smirked.

  "My hair?" She thought of the long tresses being a mermaid's pride and joy.

  "No, kummkompf! Your tail!"

  "O-oh! Of course!" William blushed.

  "They have such poor taste that to be thought beautiful there you have to have two awkward props which they call 'legs.'"

  The little mermaid sighed and looked wryly at her fish tail.

  "Come, let us be gay!" the siren exclaimed happily, and twirled around with her feathers a glimmer. "Let us leap und bound und sing throughout the years that we have to live! Surely that is time to spare, und you with three hundred, and afterwards you shall be glad enough to rest in your graves."

  "She's right, you know," Schrödinger said. "The human world? It's a mess. Life under the sea is better than anything they have up there!"

  "But I still don't think…" William began.

  "The seaweed is always greener…" Schrödinger began.

  William knocked him on the head. "Don't you start!"

  The siren stood and stretched her long bird legs. "Well, you two haf fun! I shall go sing to a ship passing by!"

  "Don't drown anyone!" William called after her.

  Later that night, down in their little grotto, William was lying against a rock and looking at a small silver fork. As she looked at it, she could not help but think how much prettier silver would look on the Count than gold.

  "You've changed, William," Schrödinger said.

  "Have I?"

  "Yes, you used to be fun. Now all you care about is that stupid Count."

  "For the better, I hope," William said, and placed the fork on the candle holder.

  "You aren't even listening to me!" Schrödinger exclaimed.

  "Why should I? All you ever do is make fun of me!"

  "That's because you're so fun to make fun of!"

  "Good bye, Schrödinger," William said firmly, and swam out of the grotto.

  On her way out, she bumped into the youngest princess, who was coming in with yet more treasures she had uncovered from sunken ships. Several months ago, the youngest princess had happened upon William' grotto and begged to keep her stuff in there. Evidently she loved the surface as much as William, but had long run out of room to keep her "collection" in her royal bedchamber, and so wanted to keep all of her things in William' spacious underwater cave. William had hesitantly agreed, and by nightfall her home was full to bursting with the youngest princess's collection. Now the youngest princess was there so often and made herself so at home, one would think the grotto were hers and not William' home.

  William was more melancholic than ever, and eventually drifted back to the surface.

  "What would you like to know now?" the siren asked when William returned.

  "I suppose I'll just keep learning more about the human world," William said.

  "Ooh, would you like to hear of marriage ceremonies between humans? It really is quite charming!"

  William' eyes lit up and she smiled brightly. "All right."

  The siren told her proudly of the commitment humans made to each other when they pledged their hearts and souls to each other. As she told of the charming ceremony when a priest had the man and woman pledge their right hands together, William soon realized that the way she had talked about for humans to bind their souls together.

  "Do you think I could marry the Count, and be able to join him in the afterlife?" William cried.

  "I don't see why not!" the siren grinned, "If you too could live together as husband und wife, there's no reason you can't live together after death."

  "Live together…"

  All at once, William' prior melancholy had returned. Schrödinger often liked to taunt her by saying: "A fish may love a bird, but where would they live?"

  "In the balcony that connects to the river, perhaps…" William thought, but even she knew it was not likely. She could not stand for humans to look at her, so how could she live with him like a proper husband and wife?

  These thoughts continued to plague William even after she returned to visit Harkonnen.

  "William, you seem so down lately!" he said.

  "Really? I don't mean to…"

  "It's all because of that cursed count! You were so bright and lively before you saw him!"

  "Please don't say that about him, Harkonnen. I really am much happier now than I was before."

  "And you were always a terrible liar!" Harkonnen cried, with his forked tongue sticking out.

  William made a wry face, but said nothing.

  "Now William, cheer up! Now is not the time to be making unhappy faces! Great joy draws our way!"

  William perked her head up.

  "Their royal majesties, the Sea King und Dowager Queen, are holding a court ball this evening."

  "O-oh…" William said sadly.

  She still remembered how she had been fired as a chamber maid, and forbidden from performing at royal functions of any kind, and felt all the sadder.

  "What are you frowning about? The doors are open to all that will come, including you!"

  William' eyes widened, and then she smiled. "Oh—all right!"

  "You simply must come, for tonight I shall conduct music for the grandest ball ever held on the sea floor! Tonight will be the most glorious music of my distinguished career."

  William chuckled and shook her head. Harkonnen always said that, but she agreed to go just the same.

  The party was thought to be a much more glorious affair than is ever to be seen on earth. The walls and ceiling of the great ballroom were of chrystal glass. Many hundreds of huge rose-red and grass-green shells stood on each side in rows, with purple and blue lights illuminating the whole room and shining so clearly it was quite bright in the sea outs
ide. You could see countless fish, great and small, swimming toward the glass walls. Their scales gleamed every color of the rainbow, though many were of purplish-red, others of silver and gold.

  All the fish were quivering with excitement over, and all the merpeople were chattering happily as they fixed their hair before their vanities.

  While the mermaids prepared for the ball and William swam toward the Sea Capital, Schrödinger whispered that he had a surprise for her and he pulled her instead toward their secret hideaway. After pulling back the heavy stone door, he led William eagerly through the stone passage.

  "Schrödinger!" William called happily, "Why can't you tell me what this about?"

  "You'll see!" he cried, covering her eyes and pushing her forward. "It's a surprise!"

  Thus saying, he released her eyes and allowed her to see the white marble statue that looked so much like the Count. It stood in the center of the cave, with most of their human treasures arranged decoratively around it.

  William gasped.

  "You like it?" Schrödinger smirked.

  "You did this?" she breathed.

  "Ja! When you can be everywhere und nowhere like me, moving a statue like this is easy!"

  "You mean… it's here…?"

  "Ja! Everything you love ist here, everyone you love ist there," he pointed behind him, where they both knew the Sea Capitol stood just outside their grotto, "und everything you want ist up there. You won't haf to swim around so much anymore, as everything you want ist in your home, your friends are just outside your home, und you can go to the surface with all you want securely in place."

  "Oh…! Schrödinger, you're the best!" William exclaimed, and she hugged him and spun him around.

  "I knew you'd like it!" he said.

  "It looks just like him! It even has his eyes!"

  "Ja, dead und hollow."

  "Schrödinger!"

  "What? I got this for you, didn't I?"

  "Well, I don't care, I'll just run away with him," William grinned.

  "You haf no legs."

  "Well, that won't last long, will it, my love?" William giggled, addressing the statue.

  "Und now you've lost it," Schrödinger said.