This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The following post is the second part to another post, titled East of Eden.
If my mother knew where I was at this very instant, she would have me by the ear, dragging me back into our little apartment complex. But she was at work. Adam and I had parted ways, and I hurried back to the pier, as if I didn’t know any better. Except I did.
My feet dangled in the water, touching the dark, reflective water as the waves lapped up against the wood. I sniffed the salty air and gazed up to the changing skies. It was the perfect, uninterrupted evening. Not a single soul other than me and dozens of boats remained in the marina. My backpack, still miraculously dry, left next to a pole near me. Everything was exactly right.
Glancing around one last time, I took a deep breath. This is it. Just jump into the water. What do you have to be afraid of? My hands shoved my bag closer into the pier, hiding out of sight in case someone saw a bag and no one attending to it. Then I admired the water once more. It was so inviting.
Inhale. Exhale.
SPLASH! The water was wonderful, cocooning me the moment that I descended beneath the waves. The velvety embrace soothed me as my legs tightened up. Bubbles tickled my skin and I waited. And waited. Then, opening my eyes, I took my first look at what had happened.
All those stories, all those tales of mermaids throughout history, were true. I remembered daydreaming about them all these years, hearing my mother yip and yap about my crazy wild imagination, and yet I used to write it off as her maturity. All this time, she was hiding who I was from me. She knew and didn’t tell me.
I shook away the thought, trying to think there’s no way she could have known. There’s no way that she would have kept something like this from me. But she did rarely ever talk about Dad. What if Dad was like me?
Suddenly, I gasped as something slithered by, grazing up against my scaly tale. A school of silver fish swam by, circling me. A smile spread across my face and I felt my insides turn to jelly. It was as if the fish had said welcome home.
Flicking my tail, it felt foreign at first, twisting in ways that my legs never could. But a few more twirls of my new tail and it was like I had always had one. Giggling, bubbles ascended to the surface. I popped my head above the water, checking the horizon once more. No one was here, and the boats were in for the night. It was time to explore.
Diving down again, I swam just above the sandy bottom, snaking through the seaweed. The speeds at which I swam were unlike anything that I had ever felt when I was on the swim team, and anything I had ever seen. The only thing I could think of that compared was watching the dolphins out in the harbor gliding in and out of the water with each dive they took.
Passing more and more sea life, the schools of fish and creatures grew in number. My lungs didn’t burn and my desire to stay in the ocean blazed bright. Why hadn’t I known about this sooner? Had I known, I would have spent every minute I could have out here.
Stopping in my tracks, I noticed the darkening of the water. I glanced up to the surface. Had it really become night so quickly?
Returning to the world above, I felt my stomach flip.
“I’m dead,” I thought out loud as I found myself counting the stars. It was way past my curfew and at this point, Mom would have called not only Adam and the school, but also the police. I was doomed.
Rushing back to the harbor, I made it to the end of the pier I had dove off of. I didn’t even have time to study how my tail became my legs before I was already sprinting down the pier, with backpack in hand, and completely soaked.
The run from the pier to my house had never been faster. I would have made the track team at the rate that I made it back to the house. Running past every cookie cutter house in our neighborhood until I made it to the very end of the cul-de-sac, right to Eden Estates.
Bounding up the stairs, I burst through the door. Mom sat in the living room chair, without anything in her hands or her lap. Her face was stone white and her reading glasses hanging down from her neck. I dripped water onto the carpet, which Mom caught onto right away.
“Sit down,” she told me, not bothering to yell at me or reprimand me, as if she had given up. I stood there astounded for the moment, expecting the worst verbal lashing of my life. She pointed to the chair next to her. I grabbed a towel from the fresh laundry basket, putting my wet butt on the cushion.
There was more silence. So much silence it was deafening. Mom leaned over, twisting to face me. She pursed her lips together and I waited. Just tell me what I need to hear. I broke the rules again. I deserve it.
“It’s time you know the truth,” Mom began, letting out a sigh. Relief washed over her face, like she was going to confession for the first time in a decade. I squinted at Mom.
“About what?” She raised an eyebrow at my question, her green eyes full of energy I hadn’t seen in a long time from her.
“Your father, the ocean, you…about everything.”
