The Fisherman's Niece

Chapter 10

       Pushing and straining, she broke the surface and was able to sit up properly. Brushing the sand from her eyes she looked for Mom and was surprised to see her right where she'd left her. Gazing out towards the sea, her dark hair thrashing wildly as the coming gale gathered its strength. Meriel marveled at what a striking woman she was. Her skin was so pale and looked smooth like porcelain, a faint blush swept across her cheek bones and her lips were a rosy and full. It was Mom, she was certain of it, but this was not the woman who raised her. The woman before her seemed stronger. It was as though she'd never known a lifetime of fear and tragedy. Meriel watched as a single tear slid down that perfect cheek and landed in the tangled mass of hair Mom was cradling at her breast.

       The woman who was her mother, but wasn't, tore her gaze away from the waves breaking on the shore and looked down at where the boy had been playing. Meriel watched as her eyes stole up the length of her still submerged body until they finally found their way to meeting her own. There was so much sadness there that Meriel could feel tears stinging, blurring her vision.

       She blinked them away and looked down at what the boy had so meticulously created. From the waist down there was a graceful fish tail, complete with fins and a pattern of scales. It was perfectly shaped and she wanted to laugh at the obsurdity of it all. She looked back up at Mom, but the woman just hid her face in the boy's hair and began to cry silent tears.

       His eyes were yellow, with flecks of green. Her father! She tried to yell to the two of them, but no sound came out. Instead there was an all too familiar whine that was building around her. She cast furtive glances in every direction, but could see nothing but sand and salt water. The sound was enough to set her heart to racing and ignoring the silent pair, she began trying to dig up her legs.

       No matter how hard and fast she pulled away the sand she couldn't even make a dent. It simply slid back in place, even retaining the basic fishy shape that it had been carved in. The ringing was intensifying and when she looked up the first of several hulking bodies pulled itself onto the shore. No! Her skin prickled with terror as she watched three more climb out behind the first, followed by more. Soon there were dozens of them crawling onto the shore, forming a tight ring around the strange trio and closing in.

       Meriel looked up into her mother's face, hoping to find some help there, but there was nothing but fear. Mom was shaking her head and screaming something at her. The mouth formed the words, but the sound refused to come out. She forced herself to study the lips, trying to decipher their meaning. Wait cup...wade up...wake up! She was dreaming. The relief washed over her, but the dream didn't fade. She slapped her face, and though she was reeling from the sting she could still see the shadowy lumps as they made their way awkwardly towards where she lay trapped.

       Once again she began trying to pull herself free from the ground, but she couldn't even feel her legs, let alone move them. She tried to dig again, but it was a futile effort and she slumped forward as her chest heaved and she tried to catch her breath. With her heart hammering in her chest and the high-pitched siren, that she now knew belonged to the creatures of the sea, ringing in her ears, she tried to fight the panic that threatened to choke her and once again began using her hands to try and slide herself free.

       In agony, she glanced once more at Mom. Her face was slick and wet from crying, but she made no move to come closer. Meriel stopped her struggles and forgot the things crawling towards her.

       "I'm sorry, so sorry...I shouldn't have left you," she sobbed silently.

       Mom stopped crying and shook her head. Meriel just kept repeating her mute apologies until the storm became so fierce she could no longer open her mouth without it filling with grit.