The Mermaid

The boy wandered down the rows of tanks. Multicolored fish looked back at him through the glass.

In his hand he clutched a crumpled up five dollar bill, all he had.

He had come in here for a goldfish, the only pet his mother would allow in their cramped apartment. Thinking that the fish in the front looked to boring, he had wandered into the dark recesses of the back of the shop.

The tanks back here were filled with all kinds of strange fish that were far out of his price range. They stared at him with strange eyes that made him feel a little uncomfortable.

He was about to turn back when he saw it. The tank was far larger than any other tank in the shop, and inside the tank, was a mermaid.

Her pink hair drifted around her face, framing her soft features. Her pink, scaled tail was bent back over on itself, barley able to fit in the tank.

The boy stared at her. He had never seen anything like her before.

She stared back at him. Not many people came back here, with the exception of the shop keeper. She put her hand to the glass.

The boy slowly stepped forward and reached out his hand. Just as he was about to touch the glass, an angry slap from the shop keeper sent the boy tumbling to the ground.

The boy got up and ran.

The shop keeper glowered at him as he did so, then, he turned to the mermaid and waged his finger at her.

She knew what that meant. No feeding tonight. She sighed as the shop keeper walked away. She was cramped in that tank, and she could barely remember the taste of the ocean. She closed her eyes and dreamed of playing in the waves again.

The next day, the boy was back. A bruised cheek was clearly visible. The other kids at school liked to pick on him.

He slipped quietly between the rows of tanks, careful to avoid the shop keeper. He rounded the last corner and locked eyes with the mermaid.

The two stared at each other, each transfixed with the other.

She smiled at him. He smiled back and gave a little wave. She returned it.

The boy looked back and forth quickly before darting across the aisle and putting his hand to the glass. 

She placed hers over his and the two shared that moment, an unseen understanding passing between them.

The mermaid was the first to break the moment. She tapped the glass and pointed franticly behind the boy.

Before he even turned around he could feel the heavy footsteps of the shop keeper shake the floor. He bolted behind a row of tanks and watched as the man undid the latch on the top of the tank and dumped the contents of the bucket in. The tendrils of seaweed sank around her face as the shop keeper redid the latch and walked away.

The boy continued to watch as she pulled one of the strands from her hair and began to slowly chew on it. When he couldn't bare to watch her sadness anymore he slipped out of the shop and started the walk home.

When he arrived, his mother was angry. She boxed his ears, then dropped a plate of food on the table. With that, she was gone, leaving the boy all alone again. 

As he absentmindedly chewed on his dinner he looked out the window at the city lights that eventually turned into ocean.

He knew he couldn't just leave the mermaid in the shop. He had to do something, but what? It wasn't like he could just walk in and take her. Or could he?

An idea was forming in his mind. He went to the closet and pulled out a battered, red wagon. It was kind of small, but he thought it just might work.

He left the apartment and ran as fast as he could back to the shop. Poking his head inside, he saw the shop keeper dozing at the counter.

He crept inside the shop, dragging the wagon behind him. Slinking through the maze of aisles he made his way to the mermaid's tank.

She looked questioningly at him and his wagon as he struggled to undo the latch.

His small hands struggled to work the latch. It was stuck. He pulled with all his might. He felt it give, just a little. Then, he was sent tumbling backwards over his wagon as the latch gave way.

The mermaid, who now saw what was happening, threw the lid off of the tank and started to pull herself out. She fell to the floor and struggled to crawl towards the wagon.

 The boy had already scrambled back up and he began helping to drag her. She was much heavier than she looked.

He felt the foot steps of the shop keeper running. He must have woken up.

The boy tugged harder on her. She was in. He pulled with all of his might, desperately trying to get the wagon to move.

The shop keeper was close now. The boy could feel it.

The wagon was rolling now. He pulled as hard as he could, pulling the wagon to the door, then over the threshold, then onto the sidewalk.

He could see the shop keeper now, right on their heels.

The wagon started to pick up speed. They were on a slope now. It was all the boy could do to keep in front of the wagon. 

It took his legs out from underneath him and he found himself in the mermaid's lap.

They careened down the street, straight towards one of the docks. 

For a second they soared through the air, then they plunged into the sea.

The boy sank. He couldn't swim. He thrashed wildly.

Then, there was the face of the mermaid, inches from his. He stopped thrashing as she took his hand.

On the dock, a crowd had gathered to see about the boy and the mermaid who had gone careening down the street, but neither were ever seen again.