Saving Serena

by Beverley Scherberger

  Recalling Kiki’s shyness, I encouraged her to talk about her people. “Why is a group of mer-people called a ‘sirene’?”

  Blushing again, she related a fascinating tale. “Long ago, unlike today, there were no taboos about mer-people going to the surface. Our ancestors used to play in the surf and enjoy the warmth of the sun.” She hung her head and paused for a moment before continuing. “Our lore tells of a group of beautiful young mermaids who lured a ship onto the rocks so they could play with the men, many of whom perished when the ship sank. Frightened and horrified at what they’d done, the mermaids swam into deep water and the remaining humans drowned. Since then, our kind have been called sirens and the name sirene has been adopted to indicate a group of mer-people—like a school of fish or a pod of dolphins.”

  I frowned, contemplating the tale, and asked another question. “Why am I able to breathe so comfortably?”

  “I have heard stories of a few humans who have survived with us as long as they are in close proximity to mer-people. It used to happen more frequently when we were allowed to visit the surface, but from what I understand, it’s been over one hundred years since humans have lived with us.

  “Maia and I had pushed the limits of where we’re allowed to go and were enjoying the warmer water where we found you. And since you are now surrounded by our kind, you are in no danger of drowning.”

  That explanation made as much sense as anything else I’d experienced recently so I turned my attention to the cavern and its inhabitants. Curious about not seeing any females, I asked, “Where are all the mermaids? I only see mermen and merkids.”

  As Kiki explained, I enjoyed the musical lilt in her voice. “Mer-people are like the seahorse people. The males have babies and raise the children. The mermaids take care of everyone by going out every morning to hunt for food.”

  Smiling broadly, she puffed out her pre-adolescent chest and boasted, “Next year, I’ll be old enough to hunt with the women.” Then she slouched and groused, “But until then, I have to stay with the men and the children. I’m old enough, really I am! What difference does one year make?” Her lower lip pushed out in a pout she murmured, “I feel like a glorified babysitter.”

  I remembered feeling too old to be a child and too young to be a woman and wanted to help Kiki believe she was doing something important. I peppered her with questions about life in the sirene and she was soon chattering happily in reply. We swam and talked as I absorbed information about this fascinating new world.

  Completely engrossed in Kiki’s answer to another of my many questions, I abruptly collided with someone exiting the common area. He had been looking the other way and his sharply exhaled “Oomph!” indicated I had hit pretty hard.

  I yelped in pain at the impact and he quickly turned to face me. I completely forgot both the pain and the apology that was on my lips. Gazing into the greenest eyes I’d ever seen, I stammered, “Uh, um... Sorry... Wasn’t looking... where...” My voice trailed off as my mind went blank.

  Long dark lashes framed magnificent green eyes, silver hair with just a hint of curl brushed the back of his neck, and a strong, square jaw hinted at strength and determination. Drawn back to those eyes, I realized he was easily the best-looking man I’d ever seen. And that deep cleft in his chin had me longing to trace it with my tongue.

  His murmured, “Excuse me” jolted me back to my senses.

  “I’m so sorry. I was caught up in what Kiki was saying. Are you alright?”

  His dazzling smile showed off full lips and even white teeth, the sexy combination threatening to send me on another mental journey elsewhere. Kiki rescued me again and introduced us. His name was Nathan and he chuckled softly and murmured, “What a beautiful name” when she told him I was called Serena.

  With a twinkle in his eyes, he assured me he had survived our collision and then commented on the ugly bruise and the cast on my arm. “Are you in the habit of running into things?” he asked jokingly.

  Flustered, I didn’t want to launch into an implausible-sounding story so was greatly relieved when Nathan excused himself to go check on a child that began to cry nearby. As he swam away, I couldn’t help but notice his muscular physique and the bronze-colored scales that deepened to a glittering black at the tail fin.

  Young enough to be oblivious to the effect Nathan had had on me, Kiki launched into a sad story, complete with as many details as she could recall. I listened intently.

  “Nathan was older than most mermen when he got married because he studied for a long time with the sirene’s doctor. He needed to learn as much as he could before the old merman died. It’s really important for every sirene to have its own doctor since we live far enough apart to not overlap when hunting. Finally, Tinami and Saya told Nathan he had to get married. I don’t know why.”

  Kiki shrugged her shoulders and rattled on with her story, not realizing I hung on every detail. “They were only married a little while when Nathan’s wife was killed in a hunting accident. It was a shark. And I guess our laws say he has to wait for two years before getting married again. But he doesn’t seem to mind. I never see him with any of the mermaids, anyway. And he keeps busy helping with the merkids and taking care of anybody who gets sick. He’s lucky since we’re pretty healthy.”

  I tuned out some of her ramblings. Hmm... That means those green eyes aren’t spoken for.

  My head and arm had begun to throb in earnest and after the collision with Nathan I had to constantly drag my errant thoughts back to Kiki’s monologue. Since I could no longer concentrate on her tour, I suggested she lead me back to my cubicle. There, I stretched out on the bed where visions of green eyes and silver hair brought a faint smile to my lips. I fell into a deep and restful sleep.

  Chapter 3

  WHEN THE MERMAIDS returned from hunting later that afternoon, Maia came to visit and brought Dr. Nathan to examine me. When they entered my cubicle, I nearly fell off the bed in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t realize.... You’re the doc...?”

  As I clumsily scrambled off the bed, I stubbed my toe on the side table and nearly tripped, stumbling right into his arms. He righted me and I stammered, “Sorry. I’m not usually... Um...”

  I could see he found the incident tremendously amusing by the twinkle in those green eyes and the soft smile that curled the corners of his lips.

  Maia seemed puzzled by my behavior and gave me a questioning look, but when Dr. Nathan suggested he check my injuries, she discreetly swam off to give us some privacy.

  He closely observed my movements as I swallowed another of the repulsive medicinal oysters and explained that “...such a severe blow to the head could cause serious delayed reactions involving motor skills and slurred speech.” His tone turned light and mischievous as he added, “I want to be sure your motor skills are normal and, if you could actually speak an entire sentence, I’ll know whether your speech has been affected.”

  His taunt produced the desired result. “How dare you come in here and accuse me of being some kind of half-wit that can’t utter a complete sentence! My speech is just fine, thank you, and if you’ll finish your examination, I’ll just...” I stopped in mid-sentence when he laughed aloud at my outburst. I then detected his rakishly raised eyebrow and the twinkle in his eyes.

  With arms crossed over his chest, he goaded me once more. “Go on, Serena, my exam won’t be complete unless you throw something at me so I can check your motor skills!”

  As I grabbed a conch shell decorating the side table, Dr. Nathan whirled and streaked for the door.

  When he peeked around the door opening, I glared at him in mock fury until he relented.

  “Okay, okay, I’m only teasing. Can’t you two-tailed people take a joke?”

  I threatened to throw the conch shell again and we both burst into laughter.

  “Now, can I come back in and check that bump on your head?”

  “Yes, as long as you reign in that sarcastic sense of humor.”

  Dr. Nathan swam
back into the room and stopped close in front of me. As his fingers probed the still-painful contusion on my head, I could feel the heat from his body. I blushed at his touch.

  “You’re warm and slightly flushed. Do you feel feverish?”

  “I’m fine.” I quickly changed the subject. “Do you think I could swim outside the cavern tomorrow?”

  With that sparkle back in his eyes but a serious look on his face, he nodded thoughtfully. “I think physical therapy might be beneficial. I could give you a tour to gauge how you handle it and to be sure you don’t overexert yourself. I don’t want you reinjuring that arm. And it’ll give me the chance to monitor that spectacular bruise you’re sporting, too. I’ll meet you here at 10:00 tomorrow morning.” He was smiling as he swam off; I was smiling as Maia returned.

  “He thinks I should have physical therapy.”

  “Sounds like a great idea!” Maia left me to rest as the medicinal oyster forced my eyes closed once again.

  After dinner that night, I felt restless and visited the common room to watch the merkids who reminded me of a throng of tadpoles darting about in a small pool. They were adorable and loved to play with my short blonde hair and strange legs, calling me Two-Tails when they thought I couldn’t hear. That frenetic energy soon wore me out and I retired early, anxious for morning to come so I could swim outside with Nathan. Weird dreams of boats, drifting alone in deep blue water, and exotic green-eyed dolphins plagued my sleep.

  However, I awoke refreshed and famished, thankful that Tinami and Saya’s wait staff delivered breakfast to my room early. I devoured it hungrily, no longer afraid of what strange food might show up on my plate, and then watched the clock as the minutes crept by.

  Finally, I heard someone at the door and leapt up excitedly to grab my fins. Kiki had come by to ask if I wanted to go for a swim. A plausible excuse escaped me, but just then Nathan appeared.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Oh,” Kiki exclaimed, “you already have a swim partner. Have fun!” I could swear there was something in her voice that told me she suddenly understood my stammering reaction to crashing into Nathan the day before. Her giggle drifted back to us on a rippling wave as she disappeared around the corner.

  “Are you sure you’re up to a swim?” Nathan visually checked me over before allowing me to don my fins.

  “I’m fine,” I assured him as he eyed my impressive bruise.

  We swam slowly to the cavern entrance where he said, “Stay here for a moment. I want to be sure nothing dangerous is lurking outside.”

  Impressed at his gallantry, I smiled to myself. Hm... Chivalry is surely not dead here in this undersea world.

  He motioned for me to join him and we cruised slowly along the wall of the coral reef, enjoying the colorful fish, the various sponges, and the soft corals and sea fans swaying in the gentle current. I saw bright cobalt tangs; brilliant Queen and Emperor angelfish; yellowtail snappers; and even spotted a lean, green moray eel peeking from under a coral overhang. Huge schools of small silvery fish turned and circled as one, choreographed to a tune we couldn’t hear. A monstrous barracuda, easily six feet long, glided slowly by, eyeing the tiny silver fish. With his mouthful of razor-sharp teeth, he could catch his fill in no time and I was glad we weren’t on the menu.

  We rounded a corner of the reef and the sea floor rose up in a sandy swell. In shallower water, the white bottom sported crabs, shrimp, and garden eels poking their heads up out of the sand like foot-long, petal-less flowers. As we neared, the slim eels retreated back into their holes, the sand looking barren without them.

  Various types of starfish provided bright spots of color against the light background: skinny, five-legged bright blue ones, a pillow-y, six-legged red one, and an enormous tan starfish that brightened to orange at the ends of its legs all caught my eye.

  Before long, the bottom dropped off and in the distance, the water darkened to a blue sapphire. I detected movement in the depths and wondered if a shark was swimming just out of sight.

  As we glided alongside the vertical wall, I delighted in the swaying soft corals and sea fans. They looked fine and delicate, like Grandma’s lace tablecloths. Peering closely, Nathan and I spotted numerous tiny shrimp and fish peeking out of their holes in the coral wall, eyes and antennae warily following our progress.

  An avid diver, I had never enjoyed the underwater world as much as I did that day. With the water warm and clear and the visibility limitless, I reveled in the freedom of swimming without bulky scuba gear. Until now, I’d never realized how constricting and cumbersome the equipment was—I felt free as the fish around me.

  Nathan and I spoke little, appreciating each other’s company and synchronizing our kicks so we swam at the same speed. I felt like I could go on forever, as long as I didn’t swim alone.

  Finally, he stopped. “We should go back. It’s not safe to swim too far from home.”

  Recalling Kiki’s story of his wife’s death, I understood and respected his caution. Keeping the wall to our left, we followed it back the way we’d come and were nearly to the entrance when Nathan pointed out a small octopus that blended almost perfectly into the background. As it flowed and undulated over the bottom, twisting and turning effortlessly through the brightly colored, sharp-edged coral and convoluted sponges, I saw it change colors to match the differing shades: brown to tan to red to blue and back to brown again. The chameleon-like performance held our rapt attention. Finally, the octopus stopped at a small opening and reached inside with one of its legs. Moments later, it flowed away from the hole with a small crab held firmly in its grasp. The serenity of the day turned a bit more somber as the crab struggled futilely for survival. The octopus easily won the mismatched contest and gobbled its lunch.

  Until that moment, I hadn’t considered the life and death battles that ensured survival of only the strongest and fittest. I suddenly understood how remarkably lucky I was that Maia and Kiki had found me when they did.

  Nathan accompanied me to my cubicle door. “If you’d like, we could make this a daily therapy session, barring any medical emergencies, of course. It would give me a chance to keep an eye on that bruise and the broken arm.”

  “Yes, I’d enjoy that! I’ll see you in the morning.” As he swam away I was already looking forward to tomorrow.

  Kiki would occasionally stop by to say hello but she never again came to my cubicle at 10 a.m. Nathan and I often waved to her as we swam to or from the entrance on our daily excursions. From her smile and friendly wave, I think she secretly approved of our budding relationship, whatever that might be.

  We often followed the same route for several days and then Nathan would switch things up and we’d head in the opposite direction. I think he wanted me to never get bored and would point out various items of interest.

  One day we spotted a snake slithering along the sea floor, flicking its tongue in and out like the snakes I’d seen on the Discovery Channel. Large gold spots adorned its three-foot-long, cream-colored body and I stopped, thinking it might be deadly.

  Seeing my reaction, Nathan said, “That’s a Gold-Spotted Eel, not a snake, and it’s totally harmless—unless you’re a small fish, that is.” He smiled and I relaxed, knowing I was in good hands.

  I got a kick out of the Hermit Crab that would find a shell abandoned by some other creature, clean it out, and make it his new home. Many months later, when he’d out-grown this shell, he would find another, larger shell and begin the process anew. If I looked closely, I could see his eyes protruding from the shell opening, intent on not becoming dinner for something larger than himself.

  Nathan once pointed out a tiny little orange seahorse hiding in a stand of soft coral. It looked fragile, its prehensile tail holding it firmly in place. With no means of defense other than its bony body, I knew the tiny creature could change color to blend with its surroundings, becoming nearly invisible to predators hunting for a tasty morsel.

  I recalled what Kiki had said about the mer
men resembling the seahorse in giving birth and rearing the young. I had many questions but didn’t feel comfortable broaching that subject with Nathan—it seemed so personal. Another day, perhaps.

  Later, he showed me how to spot a cleaning station where small fish or shrimp clean the gills, scales, and teeth of larger fish. With my new skills, I spied a little red and white striped shrimp with long white antennae sitting on a rock, vigorously waggling his antennae, up and down, up and down. A large, fat sea bass stopped in front of the shrimp and opened his mouth, remaining totally motionless. Amazed, I watched the shrimp hop into the fish’s mouth, thoroughly clean his teeth, and then crawl out through the gills, scouring as he went.

  Nathan told me the waggling antennae indicated the shrimp was “open for business” so fish in need of a cleaning could stop on in. With the mutually beneficial relationship, the shrimp knew he was safe and would not be eaten. The fish needed the cleaners or they would suffer from parasites and diseases; the shrimp depended on the fish for food.

  One morning, after we’d been swimming together every day for several weeks, Nathan grabbed my hand and slowed to a stop, pointing out a black-tipped reef shark cruising along the edge of a coral wall. His demeanor hardened as he explained. “When a shark is meandering slowly along the reef, relaxed and minding its own business, you have nothing to fear—it’s simply patrolling its territory. But if it’s feeling agitated, threatened, or is focused on prey, the shark will hunch his back, forcing his pectoral fins into a downward position, and swim erratically with sharp movements and quick, tight turns. That would be a good time to give the shark a wide berth and swim in the opposite direction.”