Becoming Mermaids

Chapter 5: I Weird Thee to a Laidly Worm

Sam had long dialogs in her head at work. She knew she'd probably given Coquette the impression that she's the sort who shrinks from strong emotions, that she's overly modest or shy, afraid to cut loose. But that would be wrong. She experienced the world more vividly than most— what was a mild arousal to normal people was shocking, delicious, or painful to her. She felt so much that she had to hold back the tide: only hypersensitives wear gloves.

She was wiping the counter at Starbuck's while Coquette waited at home with a mountain of snacks and the laptop plugged into its charger. Coquette had offered to substitute for her at work, to take her place and call herself a distant cousin. Sam assured her that it doesn't work that way in the modern world.

In fact, Coquette was probably underestimating the amount of paperwork one needed just to get by. She had no driver's license, no birth certificate that anyone would believe, and she predated social security. If she tried to ditch Sam, robbing her of legs, she'd eventually have to get a job and would probably get labeled as an undocumented worker. She'd be caught sooner or later.

It would all end with police and lawyers and would embarrass Samantha to death.

Her phone pa-linked. "I'm boooored. (sad face)." Sam was beginning to regret lending Coquette her old phone. A customer snapped her fingers at her. Botched order.

For the most part, Sam's job left her with too much time to think. Every moment she whipped lattes, a mermaid who had waited ninety years to return to land languished in her apartment, surfing the web and watching NetFlix. She couldn't even open the blinds and let a little sunlight in, for fear that a neighbor might see. Sam's guilt began to gnaw at her.

But the alternative, switching places, would do the same to Sam. Coquette would get an exciting day on the town while Sam has to watch TV. Or swim in the harbor. She shuddered. The thought of going out to sea made it seem too real.

Besides, she didn't really owe Coquette anything. It was her own idea to come stay in Sam's apartment, and that's exactly what she's getting. What did she expect? She can come on land, but she can't get rid of her fishtail. Unless she found somebody else to take it.

An unsettling idea came to mind: Sam could find somebody else to take the tail. Maybe permanently.

No— she wouldn't allow herself to think that way. As much as she wanted to take Coquette by the hand and show her how everything had changed since the 1920s, imprisoning some sucker in an animal's body was too evil to even think about.

Instead, she considered taking the tail herself, purely out of sympathy.

At Starbuck's, she was surrounded by hidden mermaids. They were embedded in the company logo, which had once looked more like an eighteenth century woodcut, but was now so stylized it was hard to recognize. It had two tails, spread wide, inviting sailors to dive on in. The new logo focused on her face.

Somehow, the idea of becoming a two-tailed mermaid wasn't quite as disturbing as the conventional kind— two tails is like two legs, the same basic form as a human being, though perhaps a bit squishier. A single tail, on the other hand, turns you into a worm. An evolutionary reversion that goes back further than frogs. Sam had only experienced that state for five minutes and the sensation couldn't be erased from her mind.

Her phone pa-linked again and she angrily flicked it off before anyone could see what came up on the screen. Coquette had discovered "NSFW" as a search term, but not its intended purpose. She must be really bored.

An hour later, Sam finally relented. Just one day wouldn't be too bad— except that she had work the next day, so maybe only overnight. How much trouble could Coquette get into in one night? She flicked on the phone and typed, "kk, i'll do it. b back in an hour."