Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  "We'll get you out of here," she said with conviction. "The others are looking for a way out. If water can flood the ship, there has to be a way it's coming from…"

  But they might not find it in time, she thought desperately. The water flooding in the ship would make it hard to swim; hard to see. Once the ship was fully submerged it would be easy to find a way in, but he would probably be drowned by then.

  Amidst the panic, she felt a flood of guilt for being the cause of this.

  "Oh, this is all my fault," she said, and she pressed her forehead against his and cupped his cheek with her little hand. "I should never have made the deal with her."

  "Hey…" he said, though it was getting harder to talk as the water grew so high that it was starting to leak into the corner of his mouth. "Hey, I'm glad you did. It allowed me to meet you."

  "But then you wouldn't be dead," she blurted out, and then kicked herself for saying something so horrible so bluntly. A year without a voice made her reckless to say whatever she thought.

  He chuckled. "A small price," he said with an ironic smile.

  "Oh!" she moaned, and pressed her face to his as far as she could reach it. "Why didn't you leave when you could?"

  She didn't know whether she meant jumping off the ship before it sank, leaving after the Sea Witch turned giant, or even swimming away when she had told him, "Mr. Bernadotte, you've got to get away from here!" She'd told him to leave, why didn't he?

  He smiled. She still didn't know?

  "Isn't it obvious?" he said, his eye filled with love.

  She was quiet then, and pressed her forehead against his. He wanted to kiss her, but the beams held them too far apart. He stood on the tips of his boots to that he could press his forehead and the bridge of his nose against hers; their hearts warm and glowing in their chests.

  And then reality flooded back in when the last wave of water washed over his nostrils. He lifted his head as high as he could, took a few swift breaths and one last deep gulp, then was completely submerged in water.

  William gasped, and panicked again. She didn't know that humans could last a few minutes (at most) without air, and she tried desperate to move the planks. The last of the ship groaned as it submerged into the sea, and seemed to roar as the flood of water rushed in entirely.

  She fretted and lifted and screamed, "Please, help!"

  "We're doing all we can, William Hanna," the faint voice of one of the stage girls drifted from far away.

  Bernadotte struggled move the beam, now that it was lighter from being submerged in water. William tried to help him, but all they succeeded in doing was making a slight opening big enough to stick one's head, but not shoulders or torso.

  She was becoming frantic. She could breathe perfectly, and floated easily in these several fathoms below the surface; but she could see clearly that he couldn't. She screamed in every language she knew, asking for help. She whistled and tweed the distress call of dolphins, sperm whales, orcas, and humpbacks. Distress calls that they often made when one of their own was drowning or struggling to swim (usually the newborns or the sickly).

  Bernadotte's drowning soon got the best of him. William didn't know, it but the ship was sinking fast and the changing water pressure was killing him as much as his lack of breath. The water grew heavy and the air shrank in his lungs, and any moment his lungs would involuntarily expand to evenize the pressure and let in a lungful of water, which would kill him instantly. She could see the agony clearly.

  "Oh!" William cried. She couldn't stand it anymore.

  And then—wildly, impulsively, almost instinctively—she grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his.

  Bernadotte's eye flew open at the first inhale of air. He clung to her as a drowning man clings to his only air tube. He desperately groped for the back of her head and tried to crush her lips further into his, trying to breathe deeply and rapidly from her. Much as he loved her in his right state of mind, death had driven away his conscious thoughts, and pure instinct took over. The simple need to survive, the simple need to breathe, drove him to try to breathe as deeply and rapidly as he could from her.

  William' eyes widened and she struggled to get her bearings. His constant grabbing and groping led to her tail floating high above her head as the ship sank, and her neck to ache from the odd angle. She tried to even herself out and hold his head with her hands, and try to caress his cheek to reassure her that everything was all right. His struggling and his hungry mouth's insistent gulp for air made it impossible for her to breathe steadily, which only further fueled his panic.

  It was an odd situation for William. Mermaids had both gills and lungs, with one remaining active at a time. Below the sea, they breathed water through their gills, which extracted oxygen that flowed directly into their bloodstream from the water. Above the sea, they breathed in air through their lungs, which were remained inactive sacks of air below water. Now, William breathed through her nostrils, and her gills extracted oxygen from the seawater that exited them. However, rather than absorbing the oxygen for her body's own use, the air traveled to her lungs, and she exhaled through her mouth directly into his.

  Pip threatened to swallow her tongue with his instinct-fueled panic for air. His hungry lips parted her and desperately tried to reach for the back of her throat, desperately trying to suck air out of the back of her throat. Opening her lips caused water to pour into them, and they both coughed and sputtered. Eventually William managed to wrap her tail around a look plank so it wouldn't float upwards, allowing her to keep her neck straight. She rapidly inhaled a few times just to give him a few lungfuls of air, then she pulled away and blocked his mouth and nose with her hands.

  "Pip!" she said sharply. "It's okay. It's okay. You can breathe. Just relax. Okay? I need you to relax."

  He inhaled from her a few times, but just as panickingly as before, so she had to pull away. "Pip! Pip!" she said, searching his eyes. "I need you to relax, okay? I can breathe for you, but I need to breathe too. I need you to relax. Okay? Can you do that for me."

  She seemed to reach him. He seemed to put effort into restraining himself, but it was the restraint of a man dying of thirst trying to stop himself from sucking down water as fast as possible. He still breathed from her deeply and insistently, but he seemed to try to do so slowly.

  William didn't know, but the changing deep sea water pressure was crushing him, and compressing the air particles in his lungs. A lungful on the surface was barely half a lungful down here, soon to be a quarter lungful, so each lungful for her was barely enough to sustain him.

  Eventually she could hear the sweet siren-like voices of the mermaids around her. "We found a way out, William Hanna…"

  "Please, help him," she said.

  The five stage mermaids slowly circled around Pip and William, as though in a dream, and thanks to the weightlessness of the sea they moved the loose beams so that the opening was big enough for a body to fit through. Pip slowly floated up through the opening, and the ship continued to sink without them; eventually lanking with a deep THUD on the ocean floor below them.

  Pip never let go of William. His mouth remained firmly locked on hers, and as soon as his body was free of the ship he snaked one hand through her hair and the other around the small of her back; clutching her tightly. William' heart fluttered and she wrapped her tail around his leg, squeezing tightly. By now they had managed a kind of rhythm, with him breathing from her deeply and steadily for a few breaths, then allowing her to make a few rapid breaths for herself before starting again.

  "We can take over, William Hanna…"

  But William shook her head, unwilling to let go. Pip also seemed to clutch her more tightly, though she supposed it was just her imagination, or a coincidence. She also wondered why he placed his tongue in her mouth since that just made it harder to breathe, and she pulled away. "Don't do that."

  And so the five mermaids wrapped their arms around Pip and William so that they circled them like a wreath, an
d rose slowly for the surface, light as a bubble.

  Despite the mermaids' best efforts, they rose too fast for a human who was not used to deep sea water pressure as they were. Despite their best efforts, they rose so fast that the changing pressure was causing him decompression sickness, though none of them were aware.

  Pip held William tightly and breathed from her deeply until his condition overwhelmed him. As they neared the surface his grip loosened, and his eyes fluttered shut. William gasped involuntarily, and then panicked further when he didn't seem to react to her pulling away. Desperately she crushed her lips to his and exhaled into his mouth, but he didn't respond.

  Eventually they broke through the surface, and he was passed out.

  "Pip? Pip!" William cried, and tried to shake him awake; but he would not budge.

  She wept, and pressed her forehead against his auburn hair. "Please wake up!"

  The five stage mermaids felt sorry for William, but they did not know how to help her, so instead they silently towed the couple to the shore.

  William was still weeping silently when they washed up on the waves, on the same white sandy cove where he had found her. The Count's Gothic castle still stood on the cliff, and close by she knew were the white marble steps that dipped into the sea.

  She cried over his body and prayed that he wake up; prayed that he be safe.

  She stayed there until some servants from the castle came running down to fetch him.

  William hid beneath the waves just then. She couldn't face them. Not now, not in this form. And now that she had a voice, she would be expected to speak, and she didn't know what to say.

  She watched them check his vitals and then carry his limp, wet body up to the castle. She prayed that he was still alive, and that they would revive him if he was.

  She turned slowly and wistfully back to the sea, and saw Harkonnen and the five stage girls smiling at her. Her eyes widened in surprise, and then they watered in gratitude and joy. And then another emotion gripped her heart, and her eyes filled with sorrowful tears. She then rushed to Harkonnen and wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, Harkonnen!" she sobbed, "Harkonnen, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you…"

  "It's all right," he assured her gently, patting her back.

  She then turned to the stage girls. "Oh, girls. I… I'm so sorry! I… I didn't mean… I didn't realize you cared about me…"

  "Oh, William Hanna, of course we care about you!" they grinned, and hugged her all at once. "You didn't think we spent all those years putting on shows together just to see you as less than family?"

  "I… I didn't know…" William admitted, clutching one arm with her hand. "I didn't think anybody cared about me."

  "Oh, William Hanna, of course we do!"

  "Why don't you come home with us, where you belong?"

  But Harkonnen could tell that William was holding something back, and he urged her to tell him what was wrong.

  "It's just…" she hesitated. "It's just… the Sea King banished me from his sea palace… that night I disappeared…"

  The others gasped. "What?"

  "You're kidding!"

  "We knew he was mad at you, but this?"

  "I'm sure you heard about it?" William said hesitantly.

  They slowly shook their heads, and Harkonnen looked very grave.

  "That's why you left us?"

  "It's just… I didn't think I'd be allowed to see you anyway…" she then closed her eyes, "And now I think His Majesty will be even angrier with me than ever…"

  "Nonsense!" Harkonnen exclaimed, some of his old forcefulness returning. "You just leave that to me. I'll talk to the Sea King."

  William flinched. "I don't want you to get in any more trouble…"

  "William, I am the Sea King's 27th cousin once removed," Harkonnen declared proudly, "I shall never get in trouble!"

  William giggled a little, despite herself, though she retained some doubts.

  "Don't worry about it, William Hanna," the stage girls said. "He can handle it."

  And so William followed them reluctantly back to the bottom of the sea, where the Sea King lived. She half expected to get in trouble for returning to the place she was banished from a year ago, but nothing happened. She also half expected to get summoned to the Sea King's royal presence in order to get scolded for her involvement in the sea witch, or being seen by humans, or creating a giant storm or something, but that didn't happen either. She heard Harkonnen and the Sea King shouting at each other at one point, but she could not hear what they were saying. When she saw him next he seemed a little frazzled, but he smiled genuinely at her when he saw her, and assured her that everything was fine.

  William followed the stage girls to the royal concert hall where they all lived, just like how chorus girls and stage girls often live at the academy where they learn to sing opera and dance ballet, and they talked of old times, filled William in on what happened since she left, and chatted happily about shows for the future. William enjoyed seeing everyone again, and reveled in their happy conversations. For several days she stayed with them and enjoyed their company. She found it difficult to share their enthusiasm though, now that she had seen the worst side of the royal family; and she often gazed wistfully towards the surface.

  If she had merely fallen in love with the Count, and then turned back into a mermaid after realizing that he would never return her love, she would have been able to return to the sea and turn her thoughts no more to the sun or land. But she had fallen in love with another; one who loved her as dearly as she had ever loved anything in her life, and she had just realized she loved him too when it became too late for them to be together. She also knew not whether he lived or died, and her thoughts often turned upward to the land and the air, where she wondered if he walked or floated in the heavens.

  Eventually her wistfulness drove her back to the surface, where she watched the old castle by the hour, hoping for any glimpse of him; any sign of whether he lived or died.

  She eventually saw Walter, Carlotta, and Maudie walking the grounds again, and knew they'd returned. She also saw the newly wedded couple, Count Ramos and Countess Richard, standing at one of the balconies overlooking the sea. So they had survived the storm, and had returned to the Castle after their honeymoon, just as they had planned before the wedding. She also saw them the next evening enjoying wine and the full moon on the marble balcony overlooking the sea, just as William and the Count used to do together. Even though she knew it was his favorite pastime, and of course he would enjoy it with his new bride now that William was no longer around to enjoy it with him, part of it felt like that had been their activity together, and it stung.

  Even now, the Count knew how to break William' heart as she watched him from beneath the waves.

  One night, when the tide was highest from the full moon, she placed a single white calla lily on the highest step the water reached to let them know she was okay.

  The next day she saw Captain Bernadotte come out onto the beach to watch the waves, and she nearly sank to the bottom of the sea with relief. "Thank God…" she thought, repeating the words she had heard countless servants say when something good happened. "Thank God, thank God, thank God…"

  She then saw that he looked very pale and very weak, and he walked leaning on a large wooden stick. William' heart then twinged with guilt, and she regretted all over again her deal with the Sea Witch that harmed and endangered so many people.

  While she had often returned to the bottom of the sea while she searched for Captain Bernadotte, she did not leave the shore once she saw him. She often clutched the tall rocks that stuck out of the ocean, far from the shore, and watched by the hour. She gazed wistfully and longingly, wishing more than anything to be near him, even though she didn't have courage to face him. She didn't know what she would say, or what he would think.

  Captain Bernadotte himself often came out to gaze at the sea by the hour, smoking cigarettes and watching the waves. The servants often watched him ap
prehensively, and a few times they came out to nervously try to convince him of something. William was never close enough to hear what they said, but she presumed it was to come away from the sea for his health. (They had given her the same speech many times before.) Captain Bernadotte always waved them away.

  He always looked intensely out at the sea, as though he were searching for something; and William suspected he was searching for her.

  He was still very injured, however, and often sat on a rock or on the marble steps, gazing out at the ocean like an old man. Sometimes he would doze off during his vigils, and one day he fell asleep outright on a warm day, when the sun hid from the clouds so its brightness didn't shine in his eye.

  Then William felt confident to come out of the water and gaze at him from one of the rocks, wanting to go up to him to caress his hair and his cheek while he slept, but afraid to draw too near once he woke up. If he woke up and looked at her, she would never be able to leave his side, but she knew she would have to. "A fish may love a bird, but where would they live?"

  While she gazed at him, the Sea King and Harkonnen watched her. She remained where she was on the rocks, gazing too wistfully and longingly to notice them.

  Harkonnen looked at the Sea King.

  "She really does love him. Doesn't she, Harkonnen?"

  It was what he had been saying all along, but he knew the Sea King well enough to realize that the best way to convince him of anything was to make it seem like it was his own idea. "Well, it's like I always say, Your Majesty: the sign of a great monarch is one who cares about the happiness of his subjects."

  "Not to mention you owe her!" Schrodinger said from behind them, his little tail flipping slowly out of the water.

  "Schrodinger!"

  "The one und only!" he grinned.

  The Sea King sighed. "And if I do this for you, will you really leave my palace?"

  He meant would Schrodinger stop breaking into his palace unannounced and refuse to leave.

  "Absolutely!" the little sea devil promised, drawing an X over his chest. "Cross my heart, und hope you strike me dead with your trident if you don't."