Captured

It would have been more satisfying if it wasn’t all over my hand. The red was so intense one would think I had blood on my hand. It was just a blueberry rhubarb popsicle. The shop at the beach had two healthy options and blueberry rhubarb was my pick. I tried to eat it on the boardwalk, the wind kept blowing so much it was as if the wind itself was licking my popsicle away. The entire reason I had let that popsicle melt began with two men-strangers to me- fishing on the pier near where I was seated.

    It began calmly like any little fishing trip. Then I realized the two men were catching a “big one”. I was so riveted. I had never seen a big fish reeled in-not in real life anyway. They were busy questioning each other about the fishing line strength and what kind of fish they were going to haul in. Maybe a shark even. The amazing thing is how much the poles they were using bowed. The first man, who I think was named Tyler, his fight with the fish ended when his pole swayed to its breaking point and then was devoured by the deep onyx seawater. He then proceeded to put on a pair of dusty blue work gloves. He did this so he could pull the line of his partner, who was either Johnstone or Jonson, it was hard to hear over the increasing wind and intensifying waves. Amazingly the second fishing pole bowed to its death, but the two men held tight to the line itself. I thought the two men and the pole and line were going to end up in a knotted mess. Like a giant invisible cat had toyed with them and the line until there was no hope whatsoever of detangling them. They pulled and strained red-faced and sweaty. Then, the most they managed was thin air. The “big one” got away. Sorrow swelled in their eyes after all the burning flames of excitement were knocked out like a candlewick doused in water.

At this point, I remembered my popsicle. It was half melted and running down my arm. The shop didn’t give out many napkins, so the one I had was supposedly efficient for the windy beach scene I found myself in. As the men packed up to leave, I was licking my arm clean. They bragged how big the fish must have been, but they mentioned how it was strange for what must have been such a large fish to be in such relatively shallow water.

    After finishing what was left of my popsicle I decided to wait for the sun to set before leaving the pier so I could capture a few photos of the evening sky. Most everyone had gone home for the day, everyone who chose to come down and get their hair matted by the wind and their skin all crispy and salt licked. I eventually walked the length of the pier and decided to take a peek at the place where the men were parked with their fishing gear. They had left a fishing knife on the pier which I pocketed for myself. As I looked down into the water I saw a glowing green light. It was in roundish spots. Just algae, I thought to myself. Then the spots began to brighten and glow even more. To my surprise, there was a huge stream of dark hair gushing upwards just under the surface. My eyes were tired from a long day, but this was unreal. Silver scales like a huge mass of dimes caught my eye. Then it became apparent. I was looking at a body. I cringed at the thought, but I had to look again. I saw dark, nearly ebony, hair flowing with the silver shining and green glowing spots. This was no ordinary body. A mass of arms was waving and two more faces appeared. Their faces were male in appearance. The long jawlines chiseled out in that masculine fashion of models on a runway. One was bearded and one was not. Are my eyes failing in the dim sunset?, I thought to myself. There were two men and a woman down there glowing and rushing as close to the surface as they could. But then, they stopped just short of the surface and the look on their faces was visible for a few seconds. Their eyes were pleading for help. They were hung up on something or something was pulling them down. I immediately panicked. The realization hit me; they were trapped. And they are merpeople. Never in a million years would I have expected to see such a tragic situation that was also unrealistic to me. What should I do? If I dialed 911 I would be dismissed as a lunatic. Plus, what if the merpeople wanted to be seen by as few humans as possible? But wouldn’t saving them be a priority? I had nothing to offer but a sticky hand that wouldn’t even reach them. Too, as awful as it is, I never learned how to swim very well myself. Then I remembered the fishing knife. Thank goodness for forgetful men! I reached in my pocket and opened the knife, then I closed it. I made sure the three were watching me as I once more opened and closed the knife. Then I opened the knife and cut the fishing line in two that the men had left. I wanted to be certain these three knew what to do with the knife. I hated that I may have been condescending, but I had to make sure they had the concept down pat. I prayed they didn’t die before I got the knife to them.

    I watched the knife slip like a sardine down to the merpeople. They immediately reached for it, one of the men caught it and it slipped once but he grabbed it securely the second time. They proceeded to free the long-haired mermaid first and then each other from a fishing net that was hung on debris below them. As they came to surface, “A- how- si- lee- ah” was what all three of them chanted to me. I must assume thank you is what they meant. If only I understood the ancient tongue of the mer people.  Thankfully, it doesn’t take a linguistic genius to grasp the needs of other sentient beings who are in need of assistance. After that day I never looked at the ocean with the same eyes.