Secrets of the Sea Emporium

Brown hair is unusual for someone of her kind. Gold, silver, auburn, and even the occasional shades of blue are far more common. Yet there she is, the only one with brown hair, attracting a lot of attention from the audience. She's new here, which is her main appeal, of course. The regulars always like to ogle at the new ones. But in all the years I have spent my summers here, I have never seen one with brown hair before. 

Stopping to watch the show for just a while longer, I sigh and stretch out my back. With a broom in one hand, I open up my chest to the sunny day above and inhale deeply, the ocean air entering my lungs with a sharp taste of seaweed and a pang of nostalgia. I promptly shake myself to avoid the feeling.

I scan the crowd and realize that not many others seem to be making note of her dull hair color. They have no reason to keep track of such a thing as they're just here for a good time. They aren't the ones who have to clean the tank after the show. . .

The crowd cheers as one of the golden-haired girls leaps out of the water, a dolphin by her side. I scowl, knowing that one in particular is notorious for clogging up the pipes with her long locks. In fact, I can see some of her hair falling out even now as she descends back to the depths of the large saltwater tank. 

I sigh again and murmur under my breath, "Mermaids. . . Disgusting creatures." 

Unlike the enthralled masses, even as a child I never really saw the appeal. They're just fish that happen to be able to mimic people. However, my lifelong disinterest quickly turned to loathing after my father forced me to take this awful job eight months ago. 

I look down at my ugly sea-blue jumpsuit, the large "Sea Emporium" logo taking up far too much space on my chest — A hand-drawn pool full of sea creatures with a mermaid on either side beckoning you to join them. The slogan, "Find your underwater wonders," stands out in bold letters, as if to mock me, but not nearly as much as the big, bold letters on my back screaming, "STAFF". Boss hasn't figured it out yet, but I am currently growing out my hair in hopes of covering that up. 

Unlike the mermaids, however, my hair does not grow that fast. At least it doesn’t fall out and get all over the place either.

Grumbling to myself, I get back to work

I start by sweeping up the trash left behind by passing visitors. Boss wants me to call them "Sea Goers" but that is NOT going to happen. As I make my way around the curvature of the tank, I look up to see that brown-haired mermaid again. It does not look like she is shedding too much, thank Poseidon, but only time will tell. 

Losing myself in my thoughts, I clean around the bottom of the viewing stadium, dreading what awaits me later in the day.

Suddenly, a loud knocking noise makes me jerk my head upwards a little too quickly, summoning a cracking noise just as loud as the knock itself. 

"Ouch! My neck. . .", I groan while rubbing the offended area. 

The show's over, so all the girls are supposed to be inside drying off. Yet to my shock, one had snuck up on me. She floats there, the one with the brown hair, on the other side of the glass, giggling at me. I glare at her until her giggles come to an end, bubbles rhythmically floating up around her unnaturally pretty little head. 

With a single push of her intricate tail, she glides closer to me, our noses almost touching if not for the reinforced glass between us. At this distance, I can peer into the depths of her eyes. I stare. They aren't brown as I had expected them to be. Most merfolk I've seen have the same color eyes as they have hair. So it was stunning, mesmerizing even, to see such a vivid two-tone pattern in her eyes. 

Then I noticed — She had been pointing at the broom in my hand this whole time, and I was just standing there, staring like a love-struck teenager. What was I even thinking? She is an attraction at the park, no different than an orca whale or a penguin.

I shake the remaining fog from my mind and hold up the broom towards her, cocking my head to one side. She makes a gesture as if to say "What is that thing for?" So I humor her and give a small demonstration. Seeming satisfied with my performance, she twirls around and swims over to the cave on the far side of the tank. I begin to wonder if I will get to see her again, perhaps face-to-face on dry land, and my body grows hot once again.

Ridiculous, unwarranted, and irritating thoughts of the new mermaid plague me through the rest of the day. But all that comes to an abrupt end when the small cleaning team and I, head down to gut out the pipes. . . Wet hair. . . Is there anything more of a turn-off than pulling large handfuls of clumpy, smelly, wet hair out of a drain? I think not.

The ever-arduous task leaves me feeling utterly exhausted, not to mention unappetized. So that night, like many other nights this summer, I went to bed early, without eating dinner. Trying not to let myself think about the summer nights when I went to sleep in this very park happy and full, trying not to think of my childhood. 

I awoke early to an unwanted shake and gruff words.

"Get up, kid. Jimmy is sick so you're on babysitting duty today." 

I groan and sit up to see the older staff member's grim face looking at me expectantly. 

"OK, OK, I'm on it. And for the hundredth time, don't call me kid," I replied sourly.

"What happened to Jimmy?" I asked with practiced disinterest as I stood up and walked through the men's shared living space, "He seemed fine yesterday." 

The older man shook his head and then replied, "Poor kid, ate the sea urchin at dinner last night. It ain't purdy." 

Cringing, I pull out my jumpsuit from the lockers all the while the older man, Carl, keeps a close eye on me like I might run away or something. I know why. It's because everyone HATES babysitting duty. But I still take offense at it and glare back at him. 

"Hurry it up, now! There ain't no time to do your makeup this mornin' pretty boy," Carl snips at me. 

I ignore him as I shrug on my jumpsuit. Before running out the door I turn back and grab my personal black leather jacket from the locker, and give Carl one last glare before stomping out into the dorm hallway in my heavy black leather boots. 

As I make my way into the greater Sea Emporium Adventure Park area, I am glad to have my jacket. Summer is coming to an end, and it's windy this morning. The spray from the ocean, which sits just on the other side of the park's walls, keeps flying over the tetrapods to assault my face. 

"The oceans here always have liked to spit on me," I grumble, remembering our annual family trips here back when I was a kid. Unintentionally, I let the thoughts of back then intrude on my mind; back to when my parents still cared about each other. 

And, about me. 

I rush into a small building, shaking off the cold wet droplets as well as the memories that came along with them. I take out my staff badge, taping it to the receiver that will let me access the maintenance tunnels underneath the park.

Nobody likes babysitting.

Because babysitting is code for: "Stand around and keep an eye on the mermaids all day." Usually accompanied by cleaning their enclosure. Boss likes to have a few people guarding the mermaids at all times. They are unpredictable wild animals, that can take on legs after all, you never know when one might go wandering off. 

I arrive at what we call "The dressing room" just a tad late, as usual. Boss, a big-bellied man with too much gold on him, walks up to me with his usual happy-yet-stern face. The man is hard to read at the best of times. 

"Ah, Sebastian, thank you for joining us! I heard about poor Jimmy. It seems you have an excuse for being late today, so I will spare you the lecture." Boss smiles knowingly at me. He knows I don't like people using my full name. 

I ignore the jab, for now, and head over to my designated spot. Four other staff members are standing at key locations around the cave-like enclosure. It's a comfortable-looking area, with girly things like mirrors and hair supplies lining one wall. I prefer the spot by the exits, that way no one expects me to interact with the ridiculous creatures too much. 

As I stand there growing bored, Boss starts ordering the girls around in his usual manner. He always has a new idea for the girls to try out for the day. The mermaids nod amicably, smile their stupid smiles, and move around the room like lemmings until Boss is happy.

Once he is gone, the five of us keep a sharp eye on the mermaids. As I scan the room, I freeze. There she is, standing shyly in a sports bra and a small black spandex skirt. Unlike the more experienced girls who have on high heels, she's barefoot standing there looking lost, untrained, and super cute.

Cute? Damn it, stupid fish.

I felt a pang of concern. She did not seem quite as enthusiastic as she did yesterday. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I shiver. "That was strange," I say under my breath. The new girl stumbles around a bit, I think it is her first time on land. 

When she inevitably trips and falls, I can not help myself. Not caring about what my coworkers might say, I leave my post to walk over to the new girl and offer my hand to her. "Hi there, I'm Seth. Are you OK?" I ask, not even sure if she will understand me. Her two-tone eyes gaze up at me. Eventually, she takes my hand and lets me help her up.

I pull her delicate frame off the ground and, without warning, she presses her hand onto my chest, right in between the mermaids on the jumpsuit logo. It is warm and soft and I instantly go hot. "Seth," she says with a strange accent. Then just as suddenly as it came, she took her hand away to press it onto her own chest. Though not as well endowed as some of the others, it was still quite distracting seeing her hand there, I almost missed it when she said. "Arysta", her name I presumed. Her eye pierced mine, and for a moment the rest of the world was gone. Our hearts beating in time with the sound of the ocean far below.

But then she leaned in even closer and said in a whisper, "Help?"

Cocked my head to one side, the whiplash of emotions leaving me confused. She waddles away from me after that, back to the other mermaids. I look on as they begin to get ready for the day's events. I never realized before just how stiff the girls looked when inside the dressing room. 

. . . They aren't scared, are they? No that would be ridiculous. 

The Sea Emporium is a place of joy and rehabilitation. Rescue, rehabilitate, release, that's the whole M.O. they shove down your throat. But something is still nagging at me.

I look around at my coworkers, they look bored, and no one is paying any attention to me. Letting my curiosity take over I slip down one of the hallways that lead off from the main room. As I walk, I peek into the smaller rooms. Nothing strange in the storage room, though it does smell like fish food and there is that nasty golden hair everywhere. The wramp that goes to the saltwater tank is empty, as it should be when the park is closed. Last is the sleeping chambers up another hall. 

I am pretty sure that I am not supposed to go in, only the female staff members are allowed. But something bizarre is going on here, and I am determined to get to the bottom of this. "Why would Arysta ask for help?"

Not wanting to make a disturbance I carefully crack the door open and peer out into the room. A handful of mermaids are huddled together. I hear a soft and eerily moaning coming from the group. . . Are they, Crying? 

I don’t see any tears but the faces and sounds are unmistakably sober, it makes my heart ache. 

A soft tapping on the middle of my back makes me jolt up. I turn in a panic and, to my surprise, see Arysta looking up at me. "We wail for the loss of our Sea Sister," she says to me in a somber tone. 

"What happened?!" I reply, as my heart begins to pound. 

"After the freeing from the net, I was so happy to be here. But, Sea Sisters say that there is loss and sometimes pain when inside this prison." Arysta shakes her head, looking just as confused as I feel. 

"Who is missing?" is the only thing I can think to say. 

"The sister of golden hair and lovely song." She perks up a bit, "Can you, Seth, help?"

I had to stop myself from saying, good riddance, at that. Tackt is probably my best course of action right now. Especially if I want Arysta to trust me.

I want to tell her that I can help, but as I stand here, something tugs at the edge of my mind. All at once, I remembered the park as it used to be. A warm and happy memory from a long time ago. It was the end of summer, a cold breeze kicking up the ocean mist much like today, and I sat there on a bench in the viewing stadium with Mother and Father. We watched the Emporium's show, I used to love sea life back then, and I distinctly remember how happy the girls looked. 

The juxtaposition to the shows I have seen this summer bothers me. "Seth, you will help, right?" Arysta's nieve and hopeful voice pulsed through my body like a storm and I stood a little taller. 

"Of course, I will help you, Arysta," I say in the most debonair voice I can muster. At that, she smiles, bright and golden like the sun. 

. . . Golden? Wasn't there a bunch of golden hair on the storage room floor? "Stay here, Arysta, I have a plan." I lied, before taking off back down the hall. 

Back in the storage room, I kneel and assess the golden locks more carefully. The hairs on the floor pile up as they get closer to the back wall. I stand and begin to let the wheels in my brain turn. A small gasp emanates from behind me, this time I am not even surprised. Arysta walks up to a shelf in the back corner and points at something sticky, adhered to the edge.

. . . Blood.

I step around Arysta and run my hand along the cave wall, then push hard near the spot where the hair is piled up the most. There is a click, and the wall moves slightly. Then I roll it to the side like a cumbersome sliding door.  

Arysta pokes her head into the passageway beyond the false wall. She is so close, I can smell her. We step in and move quietly along the concrete tunnel. After what feels like forever, we reach a fork in the road and I kneel down to check for clues. I stand and put a finger over my mouth then point to the left. Arysta nods. 

At the end, there is a large double door standing ajar. We creep in and slink behind some wooden crates. In the middle of the room stands a cage with chains and a saltwater tank that is built into a small truck. The golden-haired mermaid is there in the middle of the cage looking battered. 

Arysta almost leaps up, but I grab her arm and pull her close. "We need to be careful!" I whisper hard. Then I soften and stroke the hair out of her face, "Please be careful, Arysta."

Quietly searching for the keys, I begin to think of my family again. I don't want to admit it, but I miss them.

Arysta bolts to the cage and I chase after her. It looks like she found the keys and she quickly unlocks the gate. The two girls hug and I feel a swell of pride. But now is not the time to celebrate.

"Qwicky Arysta!" I whisper, and with that, she pops up and unlocks the chains. I pick up the sorry-looking mermaid in one motion, and in a moment of inspiration, head to the small truck.

After laying the injured mermaid down in the back seat, I turn to Arysta. Already feeling my hands start to shake, "I can't promise this will work." 

Arysta glides up close and places a hand on my cheek, "You are a good man, Seth. I know the danger. But for my sister, must try."

Her touch, all the inspiration I needed.