Mer
The air above is hot. Below the surface, the water holds us; cradle us in its cooling embrace. This is where I love to be. I live to dive down deep where the slickness is thick and movement is a melodic song of fluid motion. It’s not that I’m not curious about the world of the Walking kind, it’s just that I do not trust them or their ways. I’ve seen what they can do to my kind. I watch as my sisters and brothers swim to the surface. They bake themselves in the hot sun and are lured away on the driftwood the Walkers travel on. After a while, my siblings forget how beautiful it is to swim. These Walkers call us sirens, and claim that our songs destroy their ships. They say we taunt them with our beauty as we bask in the glow of light and land on the rocks above. Yet I watch as it is the Mer kind that are washed ashore. We do not have stories of Walkers who join us under the waves. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that they are unable to adapt to our world. They die if they spend too much time under the watery foam. It is my kind who can change to a new environment. But at such a cost... I’ve watched Mer fins shrivel and die so the Mer grow the legs that ache and scream with the pressures of gravity. I watch my kin as their bodies become stooped and haggard and as their minds absorb the feebleness of the Walkers around them. They become Walkers, no longer Mer. Then, on the day they realize they can never return to the water, they die.
It is no way for a Mer to live; to die. But it is their choice. Most often, they do it out of love. Somehow, they fall in love with a Walker and they cannot bear to live without that one. It happens more often than most Mer are willing to admit. But I wonder, what is it about the Walkers above that pull these Mer to an early grave? Why choose one who is so very different when there are so many Mer to love?
The ambiguity of the gods amuses and perplexes me almost as much as the faith put into such things. Some of my kin say my uncle Neptune is a god. This makes me laugh. I know he is old, but he is no god. Or if he is a god, he’s not much of one. He seems to delight in the Mer folk going to the surface. He says it’s called evolution, implying that the Walkers are more highly evolved than us Mer. How can this be? Mer can transcend the water, yet if you keep a Walker too long under the water, they will die. Walkers cannot float or swim above the surface of the land as we do down in the ocean. Yet it’s not as though they can live without water. They need it while we can go without air entirely. How does this make them more evolved?
I spoke of this to my uncle Neptune one night when I could not sleep and he found me resting under the full moon on a half submerged reef. While he is a Mer of great passion and often discussions that question the foundations of his vast amounts of knowledge causes him to become angry, he didn’t. He patiently sat with me and listened. In the end said, “you know little one, you make me proud.” He smiled behind his large gray beard and pulled me against the thick curls of his chest. Setting me back, he held me at arms length, studying me with his glowing seaweed eyes. “The next time I venture to Mt. Olympus, I want you to come with me.” Seeing the concern in my opal eyes, he ruffled my hair that I’m sure felt as awful as dried sand since my head was above the water, and gave a deep chesty laugh. “I will, of course, speak with your father first. Don’t worry, little one, it will be allowed and I will make sure you do not transform while you are with me in the land above. Until then, I want you to research more of your ideas that dispute the notion that evolution began in the water when water creatures are so obviously further along in their development. I also want you to speak of this to other Mer folk and record their reactions. Will you do that for me?”
“Of course I will,” I said, trembling slightly at the idea of this task and the notion of traveling with uncle Neptune to the land above.
Again he smiled, “I am pleased.” With a light peck on my cheek, he dove back into the water, drenching me as he did so.
It is no way for a Mer to live; to die. But it is their choice. Most often, they do it out of love. Somehow, they fall in love with a Walker and they cannot bear to live without that one. It happens more often than most Mer are willing to admit. But I wonder, what is it about the Walkers above that pull these Mer to an early grave? Why choose one who is so very different when there are so many Mer to love?
The ambiguity of the gods amuses and perplexes me almost as much as the faith put into such things. Some of my kin say my uncle Neptune is a god. This makes me laugh. I know he is old, but he is no god. Or if he is a god, he’s not much of one. He seems to delight in the Mer folk going to the surface. He says it’s called evolution, implying that the Walkers are more highly evolved than us Mer. How can this be? Mer can transcend the water, yet if you keep a Walker too long under the water, they will die. Walkers cannot float or swim above the surface of the land as we do down in the ocean. Yet it’s not as though they can live without water. They need it while we can go without air entirely. How does this make them more evolved?
I spoke of this to my uncle Neptune one night when I could not sleep and he found me resting under the full moon on a half submerged reef. While he is a Mer of great passion and often discussions that question the foundations of his vast amounts of knowledge causes him to become angry, he didn’t. He patiently sat with me and listened. In the end said, “you know little one, you make me proud.” He smiled behind his large gray beard and pulled me against the thick curls of his chest. Setting me back, he held me at arms length, studying me with his glowing seaweed eyes. “The next time I venture to Mt. Olympus, I want you to come with me.” Seeing the concern in my opal eyes, he ruffled my hair that I’m sure felt as awful as dried sand since my head was above the water, and gave a deep chesty laugh. “I will, of course, speak with your father first. Don’t worry, little one, it will be allowed and I will make sure you do not transform while you are with me in the land above. Until then, I want you to research more of your ideas that dispute the notion that evolution began in the water when water creatures are so obviously further along in their development. I also want you to speak of this to other Mer folk and record their reactions. Will you do that for me?”
“Of course I will,” I said, trembling slightly at the idea of this task and the notion of traveling with uncle Neptune to the land above.
Again he smiled, “I am pleased.” With a light peck on my cheek, he dove back into the water, drenching me as he did so.
posted by Ninian at 11:16 PM
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