Seafoam

The ship is skimming over the still sea like a soaring albatross. It reminds the mute girl of the stillness deep beneath the water, all the way down at the bottom. She knows what that stillness is like because once she was of the sea. That changed—she does not know exactly how long ago. Several moon changings ago, perhaps. However long ago it was, she has not forgotten the rhythms of the sea. It held her within its depths, once upon a time. 

Once upon a time. What lovely words. They are words that begin the stories told to children. She is no child, but she has sometimes lingered near children when a nurse or an older child told young ones a story. She loved how sweet those words sounded, perfect for a tale. 

But once upon a time is something that is said about the past. She is learning how bitter those words can be. 

On the deck of the ship is a dark purple tent, a vague shadow in the moonlight. Inside is a man she loves, and once upon a time she hoped and wished she would be able to marry him. She wants to share her mortal life with him. 

But she is no human woman. She is a sea maid, a child of the water, and her father is the king under the sea. She is a princess, the youngest of six sisters, the sixth daughter of her mother who was killed before her time by pirates. 

A human woman is sleeping in the mermaid’s once upon a time man's embrace. She cannot truly blame either of them. Why would he want to marry a mute girl who followed him about like a puppy and danced for him, but could never tell him where she came from or what she wanted? 

It was terrible to carry the bride's train, thick as seafoam, at the wedding in the grand church. It was terrible to follow them onto this ship, where their honeymoon begins, and be given permission to sleep outside the tent where she knows they are beginning their new lives together. Now, she is not sleeping, but wandering the deck. She does not want to sleep tonight, for she will die in the morning. 

The mute girl shudders as she remembers the ugly sea witch who took her voice in exchange for a pair of legs. As the witch promised, her feet have felt as if they are pierced by coral knives with every step she takes. Without the human prince's eyes on her, she limps across the wooden deck of the ship.

The dawn will come. It will not stop for her. She knows her death will come with the morning, and she is sorrowful, but there is nothing to be done. The prince has married another. The magic laid on her by the sea witch will take her life when the sunrise comes, turning her to seafoam. The loss of her voice, the pain in her feet, have all been for nothing. 

She hears a splash, and then more splashes, and sees water being thrown into the air on the starboard side of the ship. 

The mute girl limps across the deck to investigate, and finds, to her joy, her five sisters. 

"We have gone to the sea witch," they call softly to her. 

She sees that their hair is no longer long like hers, but shorn short. She touches her own hair, and looks at them with her deep blue eyes, asking with her gaze what has happened. 

"We traded all our hair to the sea witch for this knife," they tell her. "See how sharp it is!" The third eldest sister, the most adventurous of them all, stretches up and holds something out to her tailless youngest sister.

The mute girl who was once a mermaid reaches out and takes the knife from her sister’s hand. The sharply-faceted jewels on the hilt scrape her delicate hand, and white salt crystals rub off on her pale palm. 

 "You must use it quickly!” her oldest sister says. “Use it to kill the prince who has betrayed your love for another. Thrust it into his heart, and his blood will sprinkle on your feet, and your legs will become a tail again. But you must do it before the sun rises! Look! The east grows pink! Go quickly now, and you will enjoy your natural three hundred years of life like all of us, and turn to seafoam only at the end, instead of on this day!"

The once upon a time mermaid hears footsteps behind her on the hollow deck, and turns to see a cabin boy approaching. Her sisters dive, leaving behind a thrashing of white water. The boy pays no heed to the prince’s mute pet girl or to the white water she is staring at. 

After he passes, she moves with her lovely silent gliding limp across the ship, to the tent of purple and gold. Drawing back the hanging curtain, she slips inside. 

She sees it in her mind: his blood on her feet, a tail again, and three hundred years of life, instead of only minutes. 

She leans over the bed, almost crying at the sight of the two sleepers entwined with each other, the bride’s long hair flowing over the pillow like a tide, the groom's strong arm laid over the woman protectively, though none should be able to harm them on their wedding night. They believe her to be sleeping outside the tent, guarding them from all with evil intent. Yet she is the one stealing in with death in her hand.

As she leans over, the knife hilt clutched in her hand, the gems digging into her skin as a penance for her plan, she kisses the prince’s brow. He stirs and speaks. The once upon a time mermaid pauses to listen. 

It is the bride's name that he murmurs. She, the pet, is not in his thoughts. The knife shakes with the trembling of her hand as she raises it, the jewels twinkling between her fingers. 

And then she stops. 

Love is not a desire to get what you want for yourself, but a desire for someone else’s good. She loves him still, this man who has married another and unknowingly doomed her to death. She wants his life more than her own. She wants good for him.

The sky grows brighter, shining faintly through gaps between the hangings. Dawn is coming, and with it doom for someone. 

She loves him. 

She whirls silently, gliding across the wooden timbers of the deck one last time, and hurls the witch’s knife into the rosy sea. Where it falls, the water bubbles and turns dark as if with blood. 

She loves him.

She throws herself overboard, into her ocean, even as she dissolves into foam under the first warm sun rays. 

She loves him.