As I approach my father’s new boat, The Arabella, named for my mother, a ray of sunshine peeks through the clouds. When I catch a glimpse of my bedraggled-looking shadow, I come crashing back to reality. I must look ridiculous, and I smell about as fresh as a sea monster. Father is going to be livid.
I have absolutely no idea what time it is, and whether or not I should stop at home to change. So, I ask a Chinese fisherman for the time.
“Half past seven,” he says in heavily-accented English.
Okay, there’s no way I can change. I give the fisherman a quick smile and wave, and run toward The Arabella.
Father stands next to the boat with two of his colleagues, Henry Simonsen and Edward Roth. He once told me that both men had been college athletes, playing alongside him on the tennis team, but their wealth and over-indulgence in food and wine has made them rotund and florid over the years. The three older men regard me with raised eyebrows, and for a second, I feel like a little boy, squirming and vulnerable under their gaze.
Father excuses himself from Mr. Roth and Mr. Simonsen, and lumbers to my side like an angry grizzly bear.
“Where have you been?” he says in a harsh whisper, baring his tobacco and wine-stained teeth beneath his ornate mustache. “We were supposed to leave port at seven sharp. And why are you soaking wet and smelling of fish?”
“I’m sorry, Father.” I bow my head, not only to appear contrite, but because I don’t want to give him a view of my lying eyes. “I left very early this morning to sit on the rocks, and I had to rescue a fisherman who had fallen into the water. He was struggling against the waves. By the time I’d made sure he was okay, I realized that there was simply no time to change.”
Holding my breath, I look up to gauge my father’s reaction, praying that he will believe me.
My father narrows his eyes. “Well, I’m glad you did a good deed,” he says. “But I can’t take you out on The Arabella like that. You need to go home and change.”
Father calls out to his friends, “Gentlemen, we’re going to delay our departure a bit. Obviously, Xavier needs time to change, so let’s adjourn to the house for a while longer. We can always drink more coffee and eat something else.”
At the mention of food and drink, Mr. Roth and Mr. Simonsen seem to perk up. During the short walk home, my father regales his colleagues with the story of how I’d rescued a fisherman from his untimely demise on the rocks, embellishing here and there.
I breathe a sigh of relief when we reach the house, and I hurry upstairs to change. I’m just about to toss the drenched clothes in the hamper with my dirty laundry when I pause, sniffing the jacket, shirt, and pants. Suddenly, I realize that they don’t smell like malodorous fish—they smell like saltwater, and seaweed…and Oceania.
So, I keep the clothes on the side, hanging them to dry in the bathroom. Even though I hope that Oceania will keep her promise and return tonight, I feel as though I need something to remember her by in the meantime.
Part III: The Curse
Chapter Seventeen: Oceania
Undulating my tail rapidly, I swim past schools of colorful fish and elaborate coral reefs until I finally reach the village of Mar. I hesitate for a moment before I enter my family’s house.
Swallowing hard against the lump that has grown in my throat, I paddle inside.
My parents sit around the stone table, deep in conversation; as I appear in the room, they stop talking abruptly, both of their heads swiveling toward me. I slide into my seat, and for a moment, all is silent.
Finally, I say, “What were you talking about earlier? What is this family secret that you’re guarding so carefully?”
Mother clears her throat. “Oceania, do you remember your Grandmer Genevieve?”
“Of course. She was not like all the other mermaids.”
This is true; Grandmer Genevieve had been different. First of all, she was the only mermaid I’d ever seen who had aged. While my father’s mother, Grandmer Lorelei, remains young and beautiful to this day, Grandmer Genevieve had shriveled up like an old piece of seaweed. Mother said that Genevieve once had shimmering white-blond hair, but by the time I was born, it was just plain white. Her skin was speckled with little brown spots, and her swimming had slowed. And then, one day she’d fallen asleep and never woken up.
The other thing that had been different was that Grandmer Genevieve didn’t have a husband. When I’d asked why I didn’t have a grandmerman on my mother’s side, my parents had refused to answer, remaining as closed-mouthed as oysters. So after a while, I’d just stopped asking questions.
Now, Mother says, “You’re right, my dear. And it’s about time that I tell you why.” She takes a deep breath and continues, “When she was only sixteen, your grandmer swam to the surface, and fell madly in love with a handsome fisherman, Lucas. Unfortunately, she was already betrothed to King Triteus’s son Kai, and Lucas was to marry a sailor’s daughter, so the two could never meet in the light of day. But she and Lucas saw each other every night under the moon, and one such night, they expressed their undying love to each other, in a mist of sea spray.”
Mother’s eyes shine a radiant blue, glazed-over and dreamy, and Father watches her, spellbound. Storytelling is her special gift, and although I’ve heard a lifetime of fantastic tales from her, she’s never told me one as interesting as this. My pulse races as I realize that, finally, I’m about to learn the secret of Grandmer Genevieve, the one that I’ve waited my entire life to uncover.
“Shortly thereafter, your grandmer discovered that she was to bear a mer-baby, and she surfaced to tell Lucas the joyous news. The two spent all night making plans for their future, and for the little mer-baby who would soon be born. They were so excited for their secret engagement and elopement that they didn’t even notice the sun coming up.”
Mother pauses for drama, looking straight into my eyes. “As the sun rose, Lucas’s father came down to the rocks to begin his day of fishing, and discovered the young lovers kissing. He yanked them apart, and shoved your pregnant grandmer into the ocean. From that time on, Lucas was absent from the late-night meetings, but when Genevieve peeked above the surface in the early morning, she could see him with his father, going through the motions of fishing with no real enthusiasm. One day, she even noticed a wedding ring on his finger, and her heart broke, since she knew that he’d been forced to go through with the marriage to the sailor’s daughter.”
“What happened then?” I ask, unable to take the suspense any longer. Grandmer Genevieve’s love affair with Lucas sounds eerily similar to my budding romance with Xavier, and I don’t want to end up like her.
“By this time, Genevieve’s pregnancy was becoming evident, and her parents demanded to know who the father was. Of course, Kai denied involvement, and Genevieve told her parents the entire story. When King Triteus found out about Genevieve’s unfaithfulness, he was furious. He wanted to have her sent away permanently, but her parents begged him for mercy. King Triteus finally took pity on Grandmer Genevieve and sent her to the sea witch Morwenna for punishment instead. Morwenna gave Genevieve a choice: she could either give up her right to travel to the surface world forever, or she could relinquish the mermaid’s greatest gift, immortality.”
For a moment, the words just seem to hang there, suspended ominously in the water. My mouth drops open, for I know which choice Grandmer Genevieve must have made, and I’m terrified that, if I want to build a future with Xavier, I might be faced with a similar one.
Chapter Eighteen: Xavier
When I pass Amelie’s bedroom, I’m surprised to notice that her door is ajar, and she’s already up and dressed. It’s not even eight, and she’s usually a late sleeper. She has what she calls an “early” piano lesson this morning, which, in reality, begins at nine o’clock. She’s usually grumpy and groggy on piano lesson days, but this morning, she seems wide-awake, her brown eyes shining with secrets.
“So how’s Oceania?” she asks. “You know, when I woke up, I actu
ally had to shake myself. I wondered whether last night had really happened, or if it had just been a dream brought on by that book I was reading.”
“It happened, all right. And things got even more interesting once you went to bed. I took Oceania down to the cellar, and we played music together. She’s a very accomplished harpist and singer.”
“Of course she is. Mermaids are known for their singing. Just watch out that she doesn’t lure you to your death. That’s what the mermaids used to do to the sailors, you know.”
“Thanks for the advice.” I tap my foot on the floor. “But I already knew that. And Oceania isn’t that way. If she were going to kill me, she would’ve done it already. This morning, she took me underwater with her, and I met her parents.”
Amelie gasps. “I don’t believe it, Xav. The book said that mermaids live at the bottom of the sea, and you can barely hold your breath for thirty seconds. How did you ever swim all the way down there, and spend time with her family, too?” Then, a second later, her eyes widen. “Wait a second. Did you kiss her? Because from what I’ve read, that’s the only way you’d be able to stay underwater for that long.”
“Yes, I did. You’re pretty smart. Maybe I should read this book of yours.”
Amelie’s cheeks dimple. “Thanks. You probably should read the book, just to learn more about Oceania. Mermaids are not like us, you know.”
“I take back what I said about you being smart. Doesn’t everyone know they’re not like us?” I playfully slap her on the arm. “But I really like Oceania, and I’m seeing her again tonight.”
“Okay,” Amelie says slowly, letting my jab pass without a retort. Unusual. “Just be careful.”
“All right.” I chuckle at my little sister’s grave expression. “Honestly, isn’t playing the protective sibling my role?”
We share a laugh as we descend the curving staircase, but just before we enter the dining room, she turns to me with a somber face. “I was serious when I warned you about the mermaids earlier, Xav. From everything I’ve read, I’ve learned that mermaids can be dangerous creatures, and even though you’re pretty weird, I’d really miss you if something happened to you.”
Chapter Nineteen: Oceania
“She gave up her immortality,” I whisper. “But why? She couldn’t have Lucas anyway, not when he was married to a land woman.”
“That’s true enough,” Mother says, “but the mere idea of never seeing him again broke her heart. She had to know what became of the one she loved. That’s why she gave up her immortality. And, in case you haven’t guessed, the mer-baby she was carrying was none other than me.”
I stare at my mother for a moment, dumbfounded. I must admit that I’d had an inkling of where the story was headed, but I also feel a sense of betrayal at the fact that she’d kept our human bloodline a secret from me for all this time.
“So you’re half-human? And since I’m a quarter human, you think that’s why my special talent didn’t show up until I played and sang with Xavier?”
Mother nods.
“Did you ever meet your father?”
Mother shoots Father a pained look. “No,” she says softly. Father places his hand on her arm, his eyes gentle and full of pity.
“I couldn’t meet him,” she continues. “Lucas was so devastated by life without my mother that he hurled himself into the ocean one day, before I was even a year old. He was only seventeen, and he just couldn’t live the life that he’d been forced into. My mother told me that she found his body floating among the waves one day, when she was watching for him at sunrise. She buried him at the bottom of the ocean, and mourned him secretly, only telling me the story when I was older.”
A single tear trickles down her cheek, glowing brilliant aqua, and Father wipes it away. My eyes fill with tears of their own at the tragic story.
Confused thoughts swim through my head like brightly-colored fish scrambling to avoid a shark. “So Grandmer Genevieve’s immortality was taken, but you’re immortal. And so am I.” I hesitate for a moment, swallowing hard. “That is true, right?”
“Yes,” Mother says. “The immortality was revoked from my mother, but not from me, or any of my descendants. Apparently, the witch Morwenna told my mother that her indiscretion should not cost future generations the gift of immortality, since it was her sin alone, not ours.”
Interesting. I’ve always avoided Morwenna, mostly because I find her terrifying—but at least she’s fair.
Mother continues, “However, Morwenna did put one curse on your grandmer that affects future generations—you included.”
A shiver runs up my spine, starting with my tail. “A curse?”
“Yes,” Mother says in a hoarse voice, not quite meeting my eyes. “Once a mermaid of Genevieve’s lineage reaches age eighteen, she may travel to the surface freely, as all mermaids do. But then, she has only twelve full moons to decide whether she wants to live in the ocean or on land. And once she decides, she can never go back. If she tries to cross to the other side after committing to her choice, she will disintegrate instantly.”
My breath catches in my throat. I’ve only just met Xavier, and already I can’t imagine life without him. But to never talk to my parents or Ula again? Unthinkable.
Mother reaches out, squeezing my hand. “I wish that love always had a happy ending, but sometimes it just doesn’t. That’s why, when you brought the human here, I felt that it was time for you to learn the truth. I can tell that, even though you’ve only just met Xavier, you care about him deeply. That’s the only way you would kiss him. But you must know that a relationship with a human is doomed for failure—that is, unless you are willing to leave us forever.”
I yank my hand away from my mother’s, dropping my head into the crook of my arms. I wish I’d never ventured above the surface. If I’d never met Xavier, my life would be easy. I wouldn’t have to choose—I would just continue to live the way I always had, completely ignorant of my special talent and my sad heritage.
Suddenly, I’m furious. If my parents had told me sooner, I never would’ve gone to the surface to begin with. I snap my head up, glaring at them. “Why did you keep this a secret from me for so long? Ula knows, doesn’t she?”
“Of course,” Mother says. She seems unaffected by my violent reaction; she probably expected it. “She learned the truth at age eighteen as well, at which time she was permitted to venture to the surface and make her choice. It’s a rite of passage that every mermaid descendant of Genevieve must experience.”
I look down at my tail, speechless. I’ve just learned so much that my mind is churning like a whirlpool.
Father finally speaks. “Do you understand now, Oceania, why we don’t want you spending time with that land boy? Attachments to humans will only complicate your decision, and everyone knows that a mermaid’s true place is in the ocean.”
“Of course I understand,” I say in a flat voice. Everything that I’d questioned during my younger years has suddenly sprung into focus: my parents’ prejudice toward land people, their refusal to visit the surface themselves, and their general overprotectiveness. “I just can’t believe that you didn’t tell me the truth sooner.”
Father draws his thick eyebrows together. “Don’t question us, Oceania. We wanted to protect you from the harsh reality as long as we could. Can you blame us for that?”
“No,” I reply quietly. I can see that this is not an argument I’ll ever win. At that moment, I know that I will have to keep my relationship with Xavier a secret from my parents for the next twelve full moons, until I decide what to do. If I stop talking about him, they will forget all about this.
Meanwhile, I can see him every night, when they’re asleep. This will actually work better than fighting about it; if I argue, my father will probably forbid me to go to the surface altogether and watch me 24 hours a day.
So, I drop that subject and ask the other question that has been burning in my mind. “All right. So I understand my lineage, and why you kept
it a secret until now. But is there a way to break the curse?”
Chapter Twenty: Xavier
All morning on the fishing boat, Mr. Roth and Mr. Simonsen pepper me with questions about my academic performance at Berkeley last semester, and how I’ve been spending my summer.
“Oh, I’ve been helping Father out with the banks a bit,” I answer. “And I just finished composing a sonata for the piano and harp—”
“A nice pastime, naturally,” Father interrupts. “But only a pastime, right son?”
His flat, dark eyes auger holes into me, and I nod, not wanting to argue with him.
“And what better pastime to have, really?” Mr. Simonsen says, gazing out over the water. “Well, besides fishing, of course. My Victoria is quite the proficient young musician. Voice like an angel, that one has.”
“His” Victoria just happens to be the girl I’ve been half-heartedly courting for the past few months, not by choice on my part, although she’s a nice girl and she certainly seems fond enough of me. But our lukewarm romance has been completely orchestrated by our fathers.
“This year will mark her last year of finishing school,” Mr. Simonsen continues, his thick, walrus-like mustache wiggling from side to side. “She’s excelling in all subjects, especially voice and painting.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Quite a talented girl, your Victoria,” I say politely, thankful that Mr. Simonsen can’t read minds. I’ve accompanied Victoria’s singing on the piano, and her voice most resembles a high-pitched caterwaul. I’ve seen her paintings, too; she claims to be a realist, but her paintings are as impressionistic as Claude Monet’s, only with none of the technique and raw talent.
A moment later, I scold myself for having such mean-spirited thoughts. I suppose Victoria’s paintings aren’t that atrocious for an amateur, and of course her singing will come up short when compared to Oceania’s otherworldly gift of song.
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