Mermaid in Chelsea Creek
Page 25
And above Sophie’s head, crashing through the creek’s surface, were hundreds of pigeons, all working to save her, their claws piercing the water, their beaks and wings cutting through the waters and then retreating, because the pigeons were powerless before the creek. They dashed and retreated, dashed and retreated, stirring the water into a froth as above them the rogue wave curled against the sky like a fist and began its terrible topple. Catching Livia in her hands, Sophie flung herself out of the water as far as she could and lifted her arms high. She felt a flock of feathers scramble to meet her, she felt the scrape of claw and wing brush her skin as the birds received Livia. So many of them, Sophie could feel the wind they created, making the surface of the creek choppy with their tender efforts. They gathered their beloved friend, sweet Livia, and then Sophie’s hands were empty of her. She couldn’t cry, but it seemed that the creek itself was her tears, that she was swimming in her sorrow. When she brought her hands back beneath the waters she saw them scraped, scratched by bird feet, and stuck with a single feather from Livia’s plume.
Syrena came toward Sophie, wrapping the length of her body around the girl, tightening her fish tail, bracing Sophie’s back with its wide fin. She let down her hair and snared the girl within it, and with her hands she cupped Sophie’s head, pulling it into her neck. Like a dolphin, Sophie thought once more, her face snug in the smooth hollow. Her hands clutching at Livia’s wet feather like something magic, and perhaps it was. Sophie understood now that magic was everywhere, and there was no telling what held such power. Surely the feather grown from such a lovely creature as Livia held something in it still, even after her passing.
The feather in her fist, Sophie wrapped herself around the mermaid, clinging to her with all her might. The mermaid spoke into her ear as the water seemed to come apart around them. “Sophie,” she said. “Prepare yourself.”
The author would like to thank the San Francisco Arts Commission for its generous support of this project. Thanks to Beth Pickens, Ali Liebegott, and the Radar LAB, where much of this book was created, and to Eileen Myles for her feedback and support. Thanks to CEC ArtsLink, whose funding of my work in Poland allowed me to do research, and thanks to my Polish people for their assistance and enthusiasm: Anu Czerwinsx, Agnieszka Furla, Marta Konarzewska, Marta Wasik, and everyone at Ufa and Furia. To Daniel Handler and Marcus Ewert for being early readers and psychic cheerleaders. Much thanks to Lisa Brown for being pathologically kind and helpful. Thanks to Andi Mudd for being fantastic, and to Jason Polan for imagining the story so well, and to everyone at McSweeney’s for their hard work and beautiful results. To Elizabeth Wales for her guidance. And to Chelsea, Massachusetts, for continuing to be such a surprising source of inspiration.
About the Author
Michelle Tea is the author of 4 ½ memoirs, 1 ½ novels, and a collection of poetry. Her memoir Valencia is an underground classic and is currently being made into a feature film by 21 different filmmakers. She is the founder and executive director of RADAR Productions, a literary non-profit which hosts the monthly RADAR Reading Series (voted Best Literary Series by SF Bay Guardian readers), the infamous Sister Spit Literary Performance tours, an annual poetry chapbook contest, and the Radar LAB Writers’ Retreat in Akumal, Mexico. She is a former writer of horoscopes and a current reader of tarot cards.