“Geena! How long does it take to catch a fish girl? You’ve been down by the beach all day!”

The gulls resting on the sand scatter into the air, frightened by Ma’s hollering. I wave to her but say nothing. It’s better to do that and avoid a fight. Some days Ma gets mad enough to walk the extensive trek from the shanty to the shoreline to show me what’s what. Today, luck is on my side because she retreats inside the house without another word.

I let out the breath I’m holding and turn back to my work. My last piece of chum sits lonely at the bottom of a bare bucket. Lady Luck may have saved me from my ma a minute ago, but she can’t save me from the wrath that’s coming if I go home empty-handed. I bait my hook and drop the line into the turquoise water, determined to snare a single decently sized Red Snapper before I head in.

The pounding of my heart slows as I relax at the sounds of waves crashing on the nearby rocks. My fishing spot is on an outcropping, the end of it resulting in a steep decline. An ideal location for angling. The rocky land digs into my bare legs but the feeling is welcome. It keeps me alert and ready to reel in the line as soon as a fish tugs. I had promising moments earlier only to haul the wire up and notice the bait gone with no Mackerel in sight. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the merfolk are playing tricks on me. 

Suddenly, the line goes taut. It’s flush against the rock. I can’t get a good grip, so I scramble to the edge to pull from there. I reach for the thread, an appendage snakes out of the water and drags me under. My mouth opens to scream, but I swallow seawater. Warm, scaly digits encircle my wrists as my body thrashes, desperate to escape before I hit a depth I am incapable of returning from. The water surrounding us darkens as we sink further down, the sunlight weak to penetrate this far beneath the surface.

The resistance in me dies when I glimpse my captor. A blue face with sharp-angled cheeks, a flat nose, and black scleraless eyes. A merman. He’s beautiful. I stop struggling, stunned by his otherworldliness. Noticing my lack of movement, he loosens his restraint to cradle my elbows. Maybe it’s the loss of oxygen clouding my senses, but I rotate my palms up to cup his biceps. The skin here is rough and extending out on each limb is a spiky fin. The mer slips out of my grasp as if burned by my touch.

It’s then my lungs choose to remind me I have been underwater for too long. Instinctively, I breathe in and suck in the salty water. He watches me as my nails claw at my throat, trying to tear it apart to release the liquid pouring into my chest. After a moment, my vision starts to blur and calmness overcomes me. I shut my eyes and accept my imminent death. No one who beholds the merfolk ever lives to tell about it. The tales of these monsters are all second-hand accounts from those who were near the sailors who got dragged beneath the waves by blue-finned arms.

Lips flush against mine, a tongue penetrates my mouth and air pushes into my lungs. Inhale, exhale. Again and again, until I feel full to bursting. The creature’s fists grip my hips, pressing me to his torso. The scales of his tail prick my legs as he moves between my thighs. He yanks me forward to lie on top of his body as his lower appendage begins to undulate and move us through the water. The scenery around me blurs when he picks up speed. Soon, I cannot make out anything but the being in front of me. 

An indescribable amount of time passes before he stops. With a quick motion, he detaches his mouth and shoves me away. Panicking, I swim upwards, but he curls his tail around me to block my withdrawal. Banging my fists on his flesh, I wrestle to free myself until I realize I am breathing. My hands freeze and I reach up to touch my nostrils. No bubbles depart from my nose. Somehow I am respiring underwater. Sensing my newfound serenity, he uncoils himself and takes hold of my shoulder. Towing me alongside him, he swims a short distance before stopping us next to a coral reef. 

I have only seen reefs from afar, as the currents surrounding them are too strong to swim in without risking being swept away. Which is a shame, as I can’t say I’ve viewed anything more beautiful in my life. The merman leads me to a large opening among the coral. It’s built up enough to form a cave-like structure with plenty of space for us to squeeze into. Seagrass covers the cavern floor. Mesmerized by the swaying blades, I can’t help myself from sinking into the bed wanting to fully immerse my body in the softness. Never have I felt this comfortable. Compared to the hammock I sleep in at home, this is paradise. 

A sharp whistle breaks the quiet, and I flip onto my rear to gaze at my merman. He smiles, displaying a myriad of needle-like teeth. Another short chirp erupts from him before he pivots to tap on an anemone. Its tentacle fingers bloom open like a flower to reveal a pair of items. He presents them both to me. Unsure if I’m supposed to take them or admire them from afar, I brush my knuckles over the objects and smile. His expression softens, and he moves over me, skimming his hands over my skin, and places a lengthy string over my neck twining the loose ends once around my middle. Round white beads glisten in the dim sunlight, reflecting off the shifting water. For a bit, I wonder where he discovered so many of the man-made objects when I realize the balls are not beads at all but pearls. 

I stare in awe at their beauty, daintily rubbing the strand between my knuckles. Living this close to the ocean, I should have seen a pearl or two, but they’re quite rare in our village. Only the best divers brave the regions where the oysters that host them are found. 

My merman tilts my chin up with the end of his claw and forces me to focus on him once more. The second gift he gives me is a coral comb. It looks like a regular hairpin, but I can tell from the pinkish hue that it’s crafted from a bone-like material. I tilt my throat towards him, offering him the chance to place it himself. Carefully, he gathers my locks and fits the accessory behind my ear. Instead of removing his hand, he traces my jaw and cups my face. Eagerness fills me as our bodies gather closer and we share a breath once more. As his lips move against mine, lightheadedness overcomes me, and the world fades. 

“Geena!” 

Gasping, I shoot up, and knock over my bucket, scattering its contents. 

“Geena! You come here this instant! You hear me?” 

The depleted fish basket is now overflowing with shrimp and crab. I gather the loose shellfish that were knocked out of the container and scramble down the rocks. What happened earlier with the fishing line and then the merman? Could it all be a dream? 

“Geena!” 

It felt so real. The touching. The kissing. Him. How did the shrimp get in the bucket when I didn’t catch any this morning?

“Daughter, what took you so long? I’ve been waiting over an hour for you to return.”

I walk past ma and into the shack, setting the pail on the kitchen table. 

“Geena, answer me! I didn’t see you out on the outcropping for quite a while. What were you doing? Huh?” 

Ma gasps, surprise written over her face. 

“Lord, what is that hanging on your neck?”

Looking down, I spy the strand of pearls. Each end twines once around my waist to meet the other under my belly button. How my merman tied it? A claim that nobody could miss. Remembering the comb, I reach up to touch the spot behind my ear. My thumb pricks one of the sharp teeth and I pull it away to view the blood dotting my flesh. 

Then it’s true, everything those sailors said about how men’s bodies float to the surface after a merfolk sighting, but women never did. They keep the women for themselves.  Warmth spreads throughout my body like a fever as I realize what’s going to happen to me. 

“I don’t think I’m long for this world, ma.”