No Going Back

A pleasant, salt-tinged breeze stirs Naida’s high ponytail as she runs along the boardwalk. Music, chatter, and the scent of fried food waft through the air from the direction of the Saturday craft fair, which is up ahead of Naida on the left. Golden sunlight bathes the world in a warm glow, but the breeze keeps her from overheating; it’s a beautiful day for running. As she gets closer, some children chase each other around one of the booths, screeching with laughter. Naida smiles and slows her pace to a walk. The craft fair is about halfway through her planned 13 mile run, and she feels like she’s earned a break.

In her neon pink sports bra and black-and-aqua leggings with well-loved pink running shoes, Naida looks out of place among the other craft fair customers, who mostly wear teeshirts and jeans or boho-chic styles. Standing out has never bothered her, though, and she walks with confidence through the booths, admiring paintings and toys, tie-dyed clothing and crocheted creations as she goes. Vendors call out to her, recommending scrunchies and dog collars and pickles on sticks, but she smiles and shakes her head at each one. She never carries any kind of money with her on runs, and she wouldn’t want to carry anything with her for the remainder of her route, anyway. However, Naida’s always had a weakness for jewelry, and as she comes to the end of the aisle closest to the edge of the boardwalk and the ocean beyond, she finds a booth she hasn’t seen here before. The deep blue tablecloth displays racks and cases of rings and necklaces, earrings and bracelets, all seemingly crafted from seashells and coral as well as metal and gemstones.

“These are beautiful,” Naida murmurs as she approaches, admiring the craftsmanship of a necklace that features pearls and a dried seahorse.

“Anything in particular catch your fancy?” the woman running the booth asks, startling Naida; this red-haired woman had been sitting so still and wearing so much jewelry that Naida mistook her for a mannequin.

“Oh, I’m just browsing. I didn’t bring any money,” Naida tells her, flustered. The woman’s eyes are arresting, a vibrant aquamarine that almost glows despite the shade of her royal blue tent.

“That doesn’t matter. These pieces choose when they leave me, and who they leave me for.”

Naida laughs nervously, unsure of how to reply. The woman in the booth unsettles her, and she thinks maybe it’s time to back away and just continue her run as though she never looked at this jewelry in the first place. But as she takes a step back, a bracelet catches her eye. It’s crafted of gold and pearls, with a few tiny auger shells and one small murex dangling from it as charms. The murex is particularly radiant, caught in a sunbeam that’s made it under the tent.

The shopkeeper follows Naida’s gaze and smiles. “That one’s lovely, isn’t it? Do you want to try it on?”

“It is gorgeous, but like I said, I have no money with me, and I don’t want to tempt myself–”

“Don’t worry about that.” The red-haired woman picks up the bracelet and holds it out to Naida, who finds herself reaching for it in spite of herself. “I knew it. And I believe this one was made for you, my dear.” She clasps the bracelet around Naida’s wrist, and Naida can’t help admiring it.

“I love it, but I really can’t–”

“Loving it is enough. It warms my heart to see my work go to people who truly appreciate it.”

“But–”

“No buts. I insist. Wear it well,” the craftswoman admonishes, and after a moment’s hesitation and a grateful smile, Naida walks away from the booth with gold, pearls, and seashells sparkling on her wrist. She decides she’s had enough of the craft fair and so she resumes jogging along the boardwalk, enjoying the sun on her skin and the breeze in her hair. The crashing of the waves on the beach to her right sounds almost melodic. Ocean spray catches sunlight and glitters in the air. 

Naida has always loved the ocean, which is part of what prompted her to move to this seaside town after she finished college, but today running by the seaside feels particularly joyous and magical. The rhythm of her breath matches her footfalls as the boardwalk turns to a sandy path through the vegetation near the beach.

As she rounds a bend, the vegetation gives way to ivory sand studded with driftwood. A short distance off the path, Naida catches sight of what looks like a human arm tangled in discarded fishing nets and other detritus.

“Are you all right?” she calls, suddenly alarmed, as she jogs off the path towards the arm without a second thought.

A sound like wind chimes in a stiff breeze answers Naida’s question. The hair on the back of her neck stands up as she picks her way over a large, slimy, sea-soaked log to find the owner of the arm tangled in fishing nets.

From the waist up, the victim looks like a beautiful human woman, but for a few errant scales, long dark fingernails, and the long purple-and-blue hair styled with seashells. From the waist down, however, she is all sapphire scales forming one long, powerful tail instead of two legs. Naida can’t believe what she’s seeing.

“A mermaid?” she asks aloud, blinking several times to try to clear her vision. The woman in the fishing nets remains half fish, in Naida’s estimation. The mermaid looks at her with large, dark, imploring eyes. “Mermaid or not, I can’t just leave you here like this.”

Naida works her way around the log until she’s close enough to the mermaid to pull the fishing nets off her, little by little. The nets are surprisingly heavy, and all Naida’s questions about how the mermaid ended up trapped like this are answered as she struggles to heave them to the side and out of reach of the incoming tide, so that no other sea creatures might meet the same fate.

“I guess I’m getting an arm workout today, too,” she mutters to herself as she works, thinking how pleased her boyfriend Malik will be when she tells him. He’s always trying to get her to lift weights with him instead of running, but Naida always tells him that running is the better way to train for the marathon she’s scheduled to compete in next month.

“There! That should do it,” Naida pants as she drops the last of the nets on a large rock nearby. “Are you hurt at all?”

The mermaid makes a low, melodic sound and shakes her head, then drags herself towards the waves. Naida tries to help her, clearing debris out of the way despite the seawater that gets into her shoes and the awful squelching they make as a result.

Just before she makes it into the water, the mermaid turns back to Naida. Her dark eyes are magnetic, pulling Naida closer without her realizing it. The mermaid beckons, and Naida crouches beside her on the wet sand, thinking maybe the mermaid’s discovered some sort of injury she needs help with.

To her surprise, the mermaid leans forward, and her lips meet Naida’s with surprising intensity. Naida’s mind goes blank for a second and she kisses back before remembering Malik and trying to pull away. In that instant, the mermaid’s tongue flicks between Naida’s lips, making her mouth open. A powerful rush of something that feels like water but isn’t courses through Naida’s mouth and down her throat. She jerks backward, coughing and sputtering.

“I’m sorry…I have a boyfriend…” she chokes out as she scrambles to her feet. “I have to go…” She turns and starts to run away down the beach, planning to find her way back to the path once she’s away from the mermaid. Her head is spinning and her insides are churning. Her steps feel clumsy, even though she’s been running almost daily since before she can remember. The air feels too thin to breathe, but panic keeps her moving forward, until her feet burst out of her shoes and she tumbles face-first to the sand.

“What the fuck?!” she exclaims, slurring her words as she pushes herself up on her arms and looks behind her. Her feet have elongated and widened, with scales sprouting at the ankles and the toes fusing and stretching to look more like the mermaid’s flukes even as she watches. Sand and sky and surf swirl around her as a whirlpool of darkness grows before her eyes, swallowing her whole.

***~O~***

A wave of nausea pulls Naida out of the darkness. Her eyes open as she retches, revealing a gently pulsating world of blues and aquamarines.

“Where am I?” she tries to say, but only bell-chime noises reach her ears. No bubbles emerge from her mouth, though it’s clear she’s underwater. She can see through the water like it’s air, without any pain in her eyes. She goes to rub her eyes but stops at the sight of her hands. Webbing has grown between her fingers, and her fingernails have grown long and dark, almost clawlike. What in the–

The beach. The mermaid. My feet–she remembers, and she stares down at where her legs have been replaced by a royal purple, scaly fluke. Panic rises in her and she wants to scream, but she’s afraid to do so, unsure of how she’s surviving without breathing air.

Scream if you need to. This all has to be very shocking, a melodic female voice echoes in Naida’s head. She turns toward it with difficulty; Naida never really learned to swim, and she’s not sure how to make her fluke work with her arms, which now have purple scales and a small fin on each forearm.

Nearby Naida is the mermaid from the beach, her blue-and-purple hair flowing around her.

What did you do to me?! Naida accuses mentally, hoping that the mermaid will understand.

This is what had to be, once you saw me. This or death.

But I helped you! You couldn’t have stayed there forever! Why would you punish me like this?! You didn’t even ask–

Punish? The mermaid laughs, a tinkling sound that makes Naida’s skin crawl. To live beneath the waves is more of a gift than a punishment.

Not to me! I love running! I love my life on the surface! I have a boyfriend, a family, a job…. I want to go back.

The mermaid shakes her head, dark eyes filled with pity. There is no going back, Naida.

Naida freezes, and tears spring to her eyes unbidden. What do you mean, no going back?! And how do you know my name?!

From the card that was in the remains of your clothes, when I pulled you into the sea with me. My name is Sereia, by the way.

Nice to meet you, Naida tells her with grudging politeness.

The only way to change back would be to make a deal with the sorceress Marilla. And I don’t think she would grant your request. Sereia gestures to Naida’s right wrist, where a gold, pearl, and seashell bracelet still sparkles against her purple scales. That is one of her tokens, and the reason I chose to transform you instead of drowning you. She must have wanted you to become one of us.

Naida’s mind flashes back to the craft fair. But a woman gave it to me on the boardwalk. She had to be human to be there, to talk with me–

Sereia laughs again. There is so much you do not know. But you will have time to learn, far more than a human life would have allowed you. Come with me. The ocean is your home now.

Naida shakes her head, which is pounding with unwanted thoughts and tumultuous emotions. Tendrils of purple and pink hair float into her vision and she glares angrily at Sereia. Everything about her has changed, even her hair, without her consent; how can this mermaid expect her to be calm and take it as a matter of course?

Sereia looks at Naida with pity, then beckons her and starts to swim away. Her movements are slow and deliberate, allowing Naida see how it works. For a moment, Naida stays still, glancing above to see sunlight filtering through the surface of the ocean. But then she remembers Sereia tangled in nets on the shore; there is no future for her in the world she knew. Instead, she flicks her tail fins and leans forward, trying to mimic Sereia’s movements. If she is ever going to run again, following Sereia and finding the sorceress Marilla is her only hope.