I remain silent, waiting for Ula to finish her thoughts. She had always seemed so content with life on the ocean floor. It seems strange to hear her expressing doubts now.
“I guess that, now that you’re going to the surface all the time, I feel as though I missed out. And even though I’ve never told anyone this, I hold onto this hope that Doria will find a part-merman someday, so she can break the curse and unite the land and sea for good. Then, maybe I can really try living on the surface, without the fear.”
I hop off the hammock, suddenly feeling wide-awake in light of Ula’s confessions. As I hug her tightly, I feel a pang of sadness that I won’t be the one to break the curse, but then I move on to more important thoughts.
Fear of the unknown and of the curse held Ula back from experiencing her full potential—in life and in happiness. But I know that, even though Xavier’s world seems daunting and scary, I can’t perpetuate Ula’s mistake.
Any second thoughts I’d had about performing before Arabella’s friends evaporate. I will sing and play the harp with the land people, and maybe, just maybe, I will choose life with them.
The thought of leaving my family and choosing land is terrifying, but, after all, I can’t live in fear.
Chapter Thirty-Six: Xavier
The remainder of the week passes by quickly, with visits from Oceania every day. Victoria did not tell my parents, or as far as I know, her own, about my indiscretion, and for that, I’m truly grateful. But my father constantly asks where I’m going when I head out to see Oceania, and each time I tell him, his cheeks pucker with annoyance, as though he’s just tasted something sour.
“This girl is no good for you, Xavier,” he says every time I hurry out the door to the beach, humming under my breath.
And I never reply, because I know Oceania is good for me. I’ve never felt so happy in my life.
Ever since the unfortunate run-in with Victoria, Oceania and I have avoided crowded tourist areas in favor of quiet beaches full of marine wildlife and breezy pine groves accented with tall, twisted cypress trees. She seems intrigued by the forest world, but, predictably, she comes to life on the beach. She tells me about the harbor seals, sea lions, and all the underwater fish, while I share my knowledge of the trees.
Saturday afternoon, I meet Oceania at the rocks of Point Joe as always, armed with a few towels and Amelie, of course. My sister has become a willing participant in Oceania’s daily transformations from goddess of the sea to goddess of the land. Father leaves Amelie entirely alone when she announces she’s going to the beach. I find this unfair and annoying, but she tells me that it’s probably because Father still sees her a baby and doesn’t really care what she does, while he’s worried about me getting mixed up with a girl who is not attached to a fortune.
Amelie helps Oceania to wriggle into a gorgeous ice-blue silk gown that brings out the aquamarine shade of her eyes. Jewels sparkle across the neckline and sleeves, and I tell her I’ve never seen her look more breathtaking.
“Thanks,” Oceania says, giggling as we stroll down the beach toward home. “I must admit, I’m a bit nervous to perform in front of all your parents’ friends.”
“Don’t be,” I say, holding her tightly. “Just sing the way you always do, and you’ll be performing in the traveling opera before you know it.”
“But Oceania doesn’t want to do that,” Amelie points out. When Oceania is silent, Amelie glances over at her and asks, “Do you?”
Oceania smiles. “I didn’t want to, but now I’m actually thinking about it.”
As she saunters a bit in front of Amelie and me, singing a happy tune that I’ve never heard before, Amelie looks at me with raised eyebrows, probably wondering what brought on Oceania’s sudden change of heart. I just shrug. I have no idea what might have done this. Perhaps it was my declaration of love?
Whatever it was, though, I’m not going to question it. I love Oceania so much that I can’t imagine life without her.
***
The dinner that night is lavish but immensely enjoyable—typical of my family. Mother adores organizing large parties, and Father loves to throw his fortune around, so they’re the perfect pair.
Flowers decorate every corner of the dining room, and a musical quartet performs as we devour the seven-course dinner, featuring entrees of steak and lobster. My mother has graciously seated Oceania next to me, but my father insisted upon having Victoria on the other side. Therefore, dinner is somewhat less than comfortable, with Victoria completely ignoring me and glaring at Oceania, who chatters non-stop about the delicious foods that the servers continuously bring to the table.
Afterwards, as promised, all the guests adjourn to the parlor, where Oceania and I are to perform the Sonata of the Mermaid. As we step forward to take our places at the harp and piano, Oceania looks at me—for reassurance, perhaps? I’m not sure, but when I mouth the words, “You’ll do beautifully,” her tense shoulders seem to relax a bit.
Before I launch into the opening bars, I take a deep breath. In some ways, this performance is even more important for me than it is for Oceania. Of course, my parents’ friends have heard me play various instruments and sing countless times, ever since I was a young boy. Many of them have even tried to recruit me to the symphony or the opera, but in recent years, my father has dissuaded them from mentioning it.
When they hear me with Oceania, though, they will be so mesmerized that they’ll mention it again. They’ll love my composition, and will insist that I conduct it in the new San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. And then, my career will finally begin…
Okay, I need to focus first. Praying for the magic that Oceania and I had in the past, I close my eyes and begin to play.
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Oceania
I strum the harp and begin to sing, joining Xavier’s piano and voice in perfect harmony. When I close my eyes, there is no crowd and no Victoria glowering at me. Relief washes over me as the Sonata of the Mermaid transports me to a place where there are no curses, choices, or disapproving parents.
Here, only Xavier and I exist, with our music and our love. I think again about choosing the land instead of the sea, and realize suddenly that it’s not the land or the sea that makes me feel at home—it’s the people I know in both places. It is not water or land that bring me to life, either—it is Xavier, and my special talent.
When I open my eyes at the end of the piece, everyone in the parlor is staring at Xavier and me, with facial expressions ranging from awe to bitter anger (Victoria, of course). Robert ushers everyone outside to the back patio, where we stand by a huge, man-made body of water surrounded by glowing white lights and rocks.
“What is that?” I ask Xavier, walking a few steps closer and peering into the mystical-looking, dark waters. They’re so calm that I can actually see my face reflected in the glass-like surface.
“Oh, it’s just a swimming pool. They’re all the rage right now, so of course Father had to install one, even though he barely even swims in it.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say, just as an older gentleman approaches us.
“Splendid performance, both of you,” he says. Although age has caused his face to wrinkle and his shoulders to stoop, his rich, bass voice remains young and vibrant. “It was like nothing I’ve ever heard.”
Xavier smiles at the man. “Thanks, Mr. Burgholt. It was a pleasure—and a privilege—to perform in front of you.”
Mr. Burgholt laughs, shaking off the compliment. “Oh, Xavier. I’ve known you since you were this tall.” He bends over, clutching his back with one hand and holding out the other around knee-level. “You’ve always impressed me with your talent, ever since your lovely mother taught you how to sing, ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.’ But tonight was on another plane entirely. I can tell you’ve been practicing hard.”
“And you, young lady,” he adds, glancing at me. “Where have you been all my life? Such a voice, and such proficiency with the harp. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs. Arabell
a herself was training you in secret for years. Allow me to introduce myself.” He holds out a hand sprinkled with brown age spots. “I’m Mr. Nathaniel Burgholt, principal conductor of the new San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. I’d love nothing more than to have both of you with us.” He looks over at Xavier. “I know your father is pretty gung-ho about you working for the family business, but perhaps he’d be okay with you giving me a little time. A guest conductor position for a few shows, perhaps?”
Xavier’s face lights up, and he leans forward. “I would love that, sir.”
“Wonderful,” Mr. Burgholt booms. “And you, young lady, Miss Oceania what? What’s your last name again?”
“Just Oceania,” I say, feeling my face heat up at Mr. Burgholt’s quizzical expression. Perhaps I should just make up a last name for myself when I’m on land, since these people seem to call each other by their last names most of the time.
“Okay, just Oceania,” he says, laughing. “I would love to have you in the orchestra as well. I don’t expect an answer tonight, but promise me you’ll think about it.”
“Yes, of course,” I say. “And thank you so much for the offer.”
Mr. Burgholt totters off to an older woman, whom I assume is his wife, and Xavier turns to me, his eyes shining.
“It’s really happening,” he says. “People like Mr. Burgholt are taking me seriously. This would never be possible without you.”
“Oh, Xav.” I decide to adopt Amelie’s nickname for her brother, liking the short, masculine sound. “You give me too much credit. You’re forgetting, someone like Mr. Burgholt would never show any interest in me without you. It’s as though we complete each other, through our music—”
“And through other things, too.” Xavier interrupts, kissing me right there in front of the pool, under the white lights that shine as brightly as the moon and stars.
Just then, I hear a gasp behind me, and whirl around to see Victoria standing there, her hands on her hips.
“So this is why you chose the little sea urchin,” she says to Xavier, her green eyes snapping with anger. “She’s so forward, kissing you right here at a party, as though you’re husband and wife.”
“Miss Simonsen,” Xavier says. “Miss Oceania and I were enjoying some quiet time alone. Can you please not ruin it for us?”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Victoria says. “I’ve held my tongue long enough, but now I just need to hear the truth. Please, tell me what’s gotten into you, Mr. Rose. I thought we had an understanding.”
“No, our fathers had an understanding,” Xavier says. “Come on, Miss Simonsen. You have to admit that there was never any real feeling between us, and I wanted more from life than that.”
Victoria draws her lips together into a thin, pale line. “I’ll tell you what you wanted,” she says, spitting out each word like poison. “You wanted some girl with no family, no connections, who will just stand around and let you kiss her like some kind of fallen woman. Well, let me tell you something, you might think you love this little tramp, but that’s not love.”
Xavier holds up a hand before she can say anything else. “I’ll thank you to stop calling Miss Oceania derogatory names, especially when they’re not true.”
“They are true, though,” she says. Glaring at me, she adds, “What are you, some sort of sea witch? What did you do to enchant my beau?”
“Nothing.” I swallow hard, drawing myself up to full height. “Listen, Miss Simonsen. I really don’t want any trouble with you.”
“Well, you have an odd way of showing it.” She stabs a finger at my chest, hard. Shocked, I fumble backward, forgetting that I’d been only a step away from the edge of the swimming pool.
An audible gasp circulates around the patio as I tumble over, straight into the pool.
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Xavier
It was bad enough that Victoria had to interrupt my moment of celebration with Oceania. But when Oceania goes pitching backward into the swimming pool so suddenly that I can’t even reach out to catch her, I know that things cannot possibly get worse.
I watch in horror as Oceania’s fragile silk dress splits right down the middle, falling off into the water when her legs morph together into a mermaid’s tail. A buzz of excited chatter breaks out amid the throng of guests closest to the pool. Some people gasp, while others avert their gazes out of respect for Oceania’s modesty, but most keep a running commentary of what they’re seeing, as if talking about it makes it more believable. I don’t think that many of them see Oceania’s tail, since the dark water mostly obscures its shimmer.
Above the hum of the crowd, Victoria’s voice rises shrilly. She leans over the pool, squinting her eyes as she hones in on Oceania’s transformed body.
“I knew it!” she exclaims, her mouth gaping open. “I knew that girl tricked you into falling for her by some kind of magic spell. Why, she’s a sea siren, for Heaven’s sake.” She wrinkles her nose at Oceania’s tail. “That is positively revolting.”
“Please leave me alone,” I say quietly, sidestepping her and kneeling over the pool to help Oceania out. “Don’t you think you’ve caused enough trouble already?”
“On the contrary,” Victoria huffs before she stomps off into the crowd. “I should think you’d thank me for revealing this harlot for what she truly is.”
By this time, Mother has begun to herd the curious guests into the house. Mr. Burgholt, who had been standing closest to Victoria, Oceania, and me, casts one last glance over his shoulder. “Well, I’ll be darned. She’s a fish,” he says to his wife, shaking his head.
“No, you nincompoop. She’s a mermaid. There’s a difference,” his wife replies. “And stop staring at her bosom,” she adds, slapping him on the arm and covering his eyes with a white-gloved hand.
After the last of the guests have disappeared inside, my mother and Amelie return, scrambling toward the pool with a stack of fluffy towels. Father huffs and puffs as he follows closely on their heels, asking, “What in the world is going on here?”
His eyes widen as he looks into the water and sees Oceania flopping her tail, propelling herself to the side of the pool in one long stroke. For once, he’s completely speechless.
“Robert, darling,” Mother says. “Perhaps you should entertain the guests inside, and begin to send them on their way for the night. I’ll help Oceania to clean up.”
Father just nods, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath as he walks into the house.
Meanwhile, Oceania’s face has gone as white as the moon above, and her eyes fill with tears when I place both hands under her armpits and gently hoist her out of the water, placing her on a lounge chair.
“Please don’t cry,” I tell her, pulling out my white handkerchief to wipe away the tears that have already begun trickling down her cheeks. “Everything is all right, my love.”
“N-n-no, it’s not,” Oceania says, her teeth chattering in the chill of the night air. “I’ve ruined your party.”
Mother immediately drapes a towel around Oceania’s shoulders, covering up the tiny seashell top, while Amelie rubs another over her tail until it dries and changes back into legs. I try to console Oceania the entire time, telling her that not many people were close enough to notice her secret, but she continues to sob as though her heart is breaking. When she finally calms down, Mother speaks.
“Oceania, darling,” she says, her face full of compassion. “Come, let me take you inside. You must be positively frigid. How would you like a warm bath?”
Just as Oceania shakes her head, Mother seems to realize the absurdity of her offer. “Oh, forgive me—that involves water, doesn’t it? Not the best idea for a mermaid in human form, I presume. But please, come inside and I’ll have the butler build you a fire.”
Making sure that Oceania is modestly covered with both towels, Amelie and Mother lead her inside, but not before my mother turns to me.
“Xavier, dear. Why didn’t you simply tell me that I was right when I g
uessed that Oceania had an element of the supernatural? If I’d known she was a mermaid, I could’ve made sure to keep her—and the guests—away from the pool.”
“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” she says. “Now, come inside with us. Let’s all have a cup of hot chocolate and talk about what just happened.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Oceania
Arabella and Amelie are so kind, giving me warm clothing and settling me in a nest of blankets on Arabella’s long couch in front of the fireplace. I watch, mesmerized, as the flames lick the logs with greedy, blue-tipped tongues. Orange embers dance back and forth like little sparks of magic.
Predictably, the guests have cleared out, most likely realizing that they’ve just seen the highlight of the party of the year. Soon, it’s only Xavier, Arabella, Amelie, Robert, and me in the parlor.
Now that the shock has worn off, Robert looks, in a word, livid. He has turned bright red all the way down to his massive, walrus-like neck.
“Oceania, my dear,” he says, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I wondered why you were so secretive about your family and where you came from. I had my theories, but I certainly wouldn’t have guessed that you were a mermaid.”
When he leers at me with his flat, shark-like eyes, I shiver, despite all the warmth in the room. I wish I could shake his hand off my shoulder, but I fear that would be terribly impolite, especially in his own house.
Luckily, he removes his arm when Arabella shoots him a pointed glance, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Mr. Rose, I wish I could’ve told you the truth from the beginning, but I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Most humans are very skeptical of mermaids. They think we’re not real.”
“I can’t deny that,” he says. “And what happened tonight was really not your fault. I didn’t see everything, but I did notice Miss Simonsen stepping toward you, and you backing away. She was quite aggressive really, an unattractive trait in a woman.”
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