by Aratare, X.
“No, not at all. English and Scottish ancestors as far as I know. Johnson, why did you investigate my family?” Grace stared very hard at the man.
“Not the Bravens per se. But we knew about the Mers and we knew that there were legends of them becoming familiar with various townsfolk from this area,” Johnson explained. “Including the Bravens.”
For some reason Gabriel found that explanation wanting in some way. He couldn’t put his finger on why, though.
It could be your fear speaking, Casillus said. Fear that his interest makes all of this more real.
How can any of this be real? Gabriel asked faintly.
Come to me and I will show you just how real it is, the Mer offered.
I can’t … Gabriel’s hands tightened into fists on top of his thighs.
“I see,” his grandmother said with a hint of coldness to Johnson. Obviously, she didn’t see why he would investigate them for having such a thin connection.
“Forgive me, Grace. I should have said something before now,” Johnson said. “My experience has been that people are uncomfortable with our gathering information on them and—”
“Perhaps with good reason. It’s a little personal,” Gabriel said.
“It’s ancient history, Gabriel.” His grandmother touched the back of Gabriel’s hand. “But I wish you would have asked me about my family, Johnson, instead of researching it behind my back.”
Johnson held up his hands. “You are right. I should have.”
After a few moments of awkward silence, Corey leaned forward. “So are we saying for sure that the Bravens and the Mers are connected?”
At Corey’s words, Gabriel’s knee thumped up against the bottom of the table. Everyone turned towards him, concerned. He gave them a shaky smile. “Sorry. Just thought I felt something brush my leg.”
“It’s all this talk of supernatural creatures,” Grace said. “You’re feeling ghostly touches.”
Aemrys’ blood flows in your veins. Mer blood. It has passed down through the generations to you. Casillus’ ghostly voice seemed to sink inside of Gabriel, each word reverberating through him like pebbles thrown into a still pond.
No, you’re wrong. I know you’re wrong, Gabriel thought viciously. For at that moment, the memory of his father’s death by drowning thrust itself into the forefront of his brain. If there was Mer blood in his veins from a Braven ancestor, then his father would have had even more of it than he did. But his father had died in the water.
“You don’t believe in the Mers, Grace? Or is it something else?” Johnson asked. “Even if you think the Mers were a seafaring tribe, why couldn’t they have existed up until the time of Samuel and his wife? Maybe even to this day?” Johnson’s tone was reasonable, but there was a glint of conviction in his eyes that surprised Gabriel.
Grace crossed her arms over her chest and practically spat, “I don’t care whether the Mers really are mermaids or just a seafaring tribe.”
“Grace, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Johnson raised his large hands into the air, surprised by her vehemence. “I seem to be saying the wrong thing.”
“It’s not you, Johnson.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “By focusing on a possible lover—whether Mer or man—we downplay the very terrible thing that Samuel did. Some people think that since Tabatha had an affair, since she was an adulteress, she deserved what happened to her.”
“Oh, Grace, no, I didn’t mean—”
His grandmother held up a hand this time. “I know. But so many have. I just don’t want to perpetuate it any further. Not in this house.”
“Forgive me. I truly thought you would be pleased that you might be related to the mysterious Mers,” Johnson said.
“The Bravens have had more than enough grief from the sea,” she said. Her eyes flickered to Gabriel and then away.
It was clear that she was thinking of her son and daughter-in-law. Gabriel reached over and touched her hand. She laced her fingers through his. For a moment, he thought he saw webbing between his fingers, but between one blink and the next it was gone.
A trick of the light, Gabriel thought.
You’re beginning to see yourself as you really are, Casillus corrected.
“Grandma G said you were in the military before you became a professor,” Corey said, changing the direction of the conversation deftly.
“In the military for thirty years. Met some of the Miskatonic folks when I was stationed out East. Discovered we all had common interests and that they could use a man like me,” Johnson replied.
“A man like you? I would imagine that academia would be boring for someone used to action,” Gabriel said.
A slow smile crossed Johnson’s lips. “Oh, you would be surprised at how much excitement there can be.”
“Well, you do work for Miskatonic!” Corey piped in.
“Heard the rumors about the university, have you?” Johnson’s smile was a little more forced.
“Who hasn’t?” Grace asked. “It has certainly cloaked itself in mystery.”
Johnson tented his fingers beneath his chin. “In some ways, Miskatonic hasn’t done itself any favors with the extreme secrecy. But the idea is that people are safer not knowing what really is going on out there.”
“That sounds like the excuses the government makes for keeping UFOs a secret!” Corey cried. When everyone looked at him blankly, he explained, “It’s said that the government has hidden the truth of the existence of extraterrestrials visiting Earth and probing people! They use the excuse that the public would panic if they knew the truth.”
“I think you lost all of us at probing, Corey,” Gabriel said faintly.
“Actually, despite the probing, Corey is right. What Miskatonic studies, for the most part, are things that would cause many people to question both the world around them and many other things,” Johnson said with a thoughtful nod.
“So Miskatonic is hiding the existence of aliens from us?” Gabriel asked. Though he was joking, his chest was tight.
“Something like that, but if I said more, I’d have to kill you.” Johnson gave them all an amused smile.
“Does that go for all the people working for you? A friend of a friend is on the dig,” Corey said. “Her name is Greta. We’d like to see her and maybe hang out or something.”
“Greta Anderson.” Johnson nodded. “She’s quite talented, and determined to get on at Miskatonic. Which reminds me. Would you boys like to take a tour of the dig site tomorrow? Greta can join us if you’d like.”
“Only if Gabriel is feeling well enough.” Grace was giving him a significant look.
“I’m sure after a good night’s rest I’ll be fine.” Gabriel hoped he looked more confident than he felt. Casillus had gone silent, and even though he should have wanted that, it unnerved him.
“You’ve been saying that the whole year, Gabe,” Corey reminded him.
“I think I’m going to call Dr. Todd tomorrow and get you in for an appointment,” his grandmother said.
“Totally good idea, Grandma G. He promised me he would go to the doc’s once we got here,” Corey said with a pointed shake of his fork at Gabriel. “You’ve got to figure out what this is.”
It is the transition. You are not ill. The land is just no place for you, Casillus said.
And here I was missing your voice. But then you say things like that and I wish you would have stayed quiet, Gabriel teased.
“You do look a little pale there, Gabriel. I’m not much for doctors myself, but maybe you should go.” Johnson looked at him with those intelligent, penetrating eyes that seemed to see right through him.
Go to the doctor’s? A tendril of panic ran through Gabriel. The gills had settled down since he had dried off, but a doctor’s examination might expose both them and a bunch of other things. Things like what had been “wrong” with his blood all year. Maybe Dr. Todd would realize the “wrongness” stemmed from Gabriel not being fully human.
I AM human. What am I even thinking?
Why am I thinking this?
Because you know the truth, Gabriel, Casillus said sadly.
Gabriel’s chest went tight and trying to breathe became even more difficult as he realized he was starting to accept what Casillus had been telling him. He wasn’t human. He wasn’t human. He wasn’t human!
No, no, NO! Gabriel shouted internally, thankfully, but it was only because he suddenly didn’t have enough air to actually speak.
You can breathe. In and out. In and out, Casillus’ soothing voice rushed through his mind. Breathe with me, Gabriel. Breathe with me.
But Gabriel’s lungs stubbornly wouldn’t inflate fully.
I can’t! Gabriel cried.
Everyone at the table was looking at him oddly again. He knew he had to speak, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t get enough air to form words.
Breathe with me. Breathe with me, Casillus repeated firmly yet gently.
Suddenly, Gabriel felt the Mer’s chest rising and falling as if it were his own chest. And then the rise and fall of his chest was matching the rise and fall of Casillus chest. He was breathing deeply, fully, and the panic eased.
“I’ll go to the doctor’s. Though I just think it’s a case of too much sun today and … and stuff,” Gabriel got out finally. He sounded breathless, but no one seemed to notice thankfully.
Everyone seemed to relax after he spoke and agreed to their plan. But he had no intention of going to any doctor. He wasn’t sick. He was … he wasn’t sure what he was.
Transitioning. That’s what Casillus said. Gabriel felt like his stomach plummeted to his feet at that moment. He wanted to keep hanging on to his denial like it was a comforting blanket, but it was slipping away from him. T—thank you, Casillus. For helping me.
No thanks are needed, Casillus said.
Is this real? Are you real? Gabriel repeated his earlier question.
I am real. This is real, the Mer answered.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
4
THE CALL
Dinner conversation drifted into other subjects that had nothing to do with Mers or the dig at the old Morse place. Gabriel found himself staring down at his plate and hardly listening. Everyone’s words just flowed over him without any understanding or acknowledgement on his part. Instead, he concentrated on the sound of the waves and the swish of Casillus’ body as he swam in the water just off the coast.
I’m hearing through your ears, Gabriel said. There was a touch of wonder in his voice. He still couldn’t believe in Casillus’ reality fully, yet he was having a much harder time denying it now. His denials were the only thing that sounded forced.
Yes, you are opening yourself up more to our connection. It is wonderful! Casillus answered before giving a happy kick of his legs that Gabriel could hear and almost feel.
Gabriel nearly laughed out loud. It was such an exuberant reaction. It brought to mind all of his own forgotten joy at swimming in the water, at being so light and graceful, at being able to express his emotions physically with the soft caress of the water against his skin the only response he needed. He allowed himself to drift with Casillus.
Are you … singing? I’m hearing this soft hum-like singing. It was a soothing sound, reminding Gabriel of a lullaby. His eyelids actually wanted to close, and he imagined curling up into a ball and falling asleep with that sound in his ears.
I am. Do you like it?
It’s beautiful. I can’t believe my mind would be able to make up something so lovely, Gabriel admitted.
I’m still not real? Casillus laughed softly, and Gabriel thought he felt the Mer shake his head. Well, I cannot take credit for this song and neither can you. It is one that was sung to me by my mother and to her by her mother and so on. It goes back a hundred generations.
You have a mother and a father?
Casillus let out another laugh, this time an indulgent one. Yes, Gabriel. Like humans, Mers need both sexes to reproduce.
Are your parents … still alive?
Yes, as are my grandparents, great grandparents and great-great grandparents. As I said, Mers do not die of old age. Only violence and accidents can kill us, Casillus explained.
So why isn’t the sea overrun with Mers then? Why aren’t you being picked up in fishing nets? Or found washed up on beaches after a storm? Gabriel argued.
The sea is vast and can hold many of us without revealing our existence, and we are careful. But we are, in fact, few. We do not reproduce easily. It is Nature’s way of keeping balance by giving us such long lives, but taking away our fecundity.
Gabriel thought on that a moment. He wasn’t sure if continuing this conversation was buying more deeply into the delusion that Casillus was real or not, but he found himself asking, Is that why you mate with humans?
Yes, humans are far more fertile and hybrids can be conceived quite easily, but … we do not do so any longer.
Why not?
The cost of it became too high. Casillus sounded pained as he said this.
What do you mean?
Few children were born that transitioned fully to the sea, and those who remained ashore were … were in danger. Many humans turned against them. There were deaths. So we retreated, for the most part, and left humanity to its own devices.
Until you find someone like me …
Yes, and then there is great joy. Another member of our people. Another Mer. Your existence will again raise up the idea that mating with humans is a viable method for us to increase our population.
Gabriel swallowed as he imagined what someone like Johnson Tims or the people at Miskatonic would do if they found out about Mers and their plans for mating. You wouldn’t be able to keep the Mers a secret, Casillus, if you did that now. The human world is incredibly interconnected. One video, one picture of a real, live Mer and it would be on the Internet in seconds and flying around the world at the speed of light.
Yes, I understand this Internet concept. It is similar to our oneness, but without the physical connection.
Yes, I suppose it is. But more importantly, Mers would be in danger if they were discovered and this mating thing were made known to everyone. People would hunt you. They’d want to catch you, study you. Gabriel’s chest tightened at the thought of Mers being swept up in large nets, harpooned, or drugged and then dissected. It was too horrible to contemplate. For as many people as would be awed that Mers existed, there would be just as many that would hate them and want to destroy them. His heart rate sped up.
Be at ease, Gabriel. That will not happen. Mers are not helpless, Casillus assured him. We have ways to fight back if we are truly threatened. And, as I said, your existence will only open the doors for a discussion, not force any decisions. Not right now, in any event. Not for some time.
Right. No decisions. Just discussions and … I keep vacillating between believing you’re in my head and then fearing you aren’t, Gabriel confessed.
Acceptance takes time, Casillus responded gently.
Gabriel suddenly felt someone’s hand cover one of his own. His head jerked up and he found himself blinking blearily at his grandmother, who was leaning over towards him. He had been so deeply in conversation with Casillus that he had lost track of everything else around him.
She smiled gently as she suggested, “Why don’t you go upstairs and get some sleep, Gabriel? You look so tired.”
He realized he was exhausted, core-deep exhausted.
“There’s going to be a bit of walking tomorrow at the site,” Johnson said, and added with a gruff smile, “And the sun can just drain you as well. You’ll need your strength.”
“Don’t worry about setting your alarm, Gabe. I’ll wake you up in time to shower and eat before we go,” Corey said. His round face was drawn into a concerned frown, and Gabriel could see that he had his “worry eyes” on.
“Thanks, Corey. That sounds perfect. I guess I’m even more tired than I realized. Great dinner, Grandma. Sorry to leave in the middle of it.” Gabriel leaned over and kissed hi
s grandmother on the temple. He waved to Johnson. “Nice meeting you, Johnson. See you all tomorrow.”
“And you, Gabriel.” Johnson’s gaze followed after him speculatively as Gabriel turned away.
His legs felt leaden as he walked out of the dining room and up the stairs. He felt like he was wearing ankle weights. Gabriel made it to the top of the stairs before exhaustion caused his shoulders to sag and him to lean heavily against the hallway wall. He had to rest for a moment. His right hand rose up to the top of his shirt and pulled at his collar. The light material felt like it was strangling him. Every breath was a battle. He was actually seeing a few star bursts of white light before his eyes, which only happened when a person didn’t get enough oxygen. Panic flared in Gabriel’s chest. He closed his eyes and dug his fingernails into his palms. He could breathe. He could breathe! He was all right. Nothing was wrong with him. This feeling would go away.
Let me help you again, Gabriel, Casillus offered. Breathe with me. Feel my chest rise and fall.
But Gabriel resisted Casillus’ words of comfort and connection this time. I have to do this on my own! I can’t—can’t count on—on—
Why can you not count on me? Casillus asked, and then said with dawning realization, You fear I will leave you. I will never leave you, Gabriel.
Gabriel jerked upright. That was exactly what he had dreamed Casillus—or the man—saying to him. What did you say?
Breathe with me, Casillus repeated.
No! Casillus, what did you say about not leaving me? Gabriel demanded even as his chest burned.
I will never leave you, the Mer repeated.
Gabriel shook his head. Just when I start to think you’re real and not from my messed up imagination you say—
Exactly what you have always wanted to hear?
The man in the dream I had said those exact same words, Gabriel said. After we made … it doesn’t matter. It’s just that no one says those things, or if they do, they don’t really mean them.
I say them. I mean them, Casillus responded firmly. But you will only believe them when time proves that I am not a liar. I cannot convince you now, and your lack of breath is a far more pressing problem. Now breathe with me.