Chapter 3: Intrigued

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Vince was right.

I thought about the TV and internet all day. If such things existed, then I could see land. To see it moving and living and breathing—that was something I wanted my entire life, but never thought possible. Now, I'd come too far, broken too many rules to turn my back on this opportunity.

The next night, as soon as I could slip away, I was back at the boat. Vince waited for me, but this time he stared at a pliable square object instead of draining brown bottles.

"You're here!" He grinned, putting down the object, and my heart began to flutter.

"Yes. I am."

Vince rolled up his pants and sat on the edge, feet in the water. He pat the deck next to him, and I cocked my head. I pat the spot as well. What exactly did he expect me to do? He laughed.

"That's not what I meant. Can you sit on the deck with me?"

"I don't know . . ."

"You can jump back in whenever you want. It's just . . . I haven't really seen you—at least, not since that night I almost drowned. If it's too weird for you, you don't have to."

I blushed. I had never been out of the water before. I searched Vince's eyes.

"You seem different," I said.

Vince's eyes rolled up to the right and he pulled his lips inward. "Oh! You mean I'm not drunk." Vince chuckled.

"What's drunk?"

"Well, you drink beer or some other type of alcohol, and when you drink too much, you start acting different. We call it drunk. My friends tell me I'm an idiot when I'm drunk."

"So, why don't you stop?"

"It helps me forget."

"Forget what?"

"My life. My legs. All the pressure there is on me."

I stared at his legs. "What's wrong with all of that?"

"That's a long story, and I don't want to bore you."

"I don't mind. Besides, we talked about me yesterday. I want to learn more about you."

"You don't mind being bored, eh?" Vince laughed again, looking at the starry sky. "Well, why don't you make yourself comfortable and I'll see what I can do."

Vince pat the deck, wearing a warm smile. I took a sharp breath and reached for the edge. Flipping my tail, I pulled myself onto the deck and turned to sit with my fluke in the water. I let out a ragged breath, my heart in my throat.

"Wow," came Vince's response.

We sat in silence. Vince's eyes wandered over my body, paying special attention to my tail. I began playing with my wet hair, arranging it like a blanket over myself. Mer didn't wear clothes like humans, but out of the water under the watchful eye of a human made me feel naked.

"Is everything okay?"

"I just . . . I wanted to keep my skin wet," I lied, pulling at my hair.

"Do you want me to get you anything? I can get a blanket and we can use it to help keep you wet." Vince started to get up, but I put my hand on his.

"No. I— I'm okay. I just worry. Besides, I can always jump back into the water if I feel dry." A nervous smile fluttered across my face. Not exactly confident and reassuring.

"Well, don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you," Vince said as he sat again. He gazed into my eyes, and a shiver ran down my spine. There was something else there, too, but his head dropped before I could figure out what it was.

Water sloshed against the boat and Vince's feet swished. My shoulders started to relax, my thumping heart beginning to steady.

"Your turn," I stated. "Tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with your legs. Do all humans hate their legs?"

Vince laughed so hard I thought he might fall off the deck again. "No. Most don't give their legs a second thought. Mine are different, though. I've got Hereditary Spastic Paraplegia. The short explanation is that one day I won't be able to use my legs. The spasms started three years ago, and I was diagnosed shortly after. My mobility will slowly decline over the next five to ten years before I'll be stuck in a wheelchair. It sucks."

"So that's why you keep falling in the water. Your legs spasm."

"Yeah. They spasm and stiffen up and stuff. I take muscle relaxants, which helps, but the tremors break through sometimes. I never know when they'll come, and they don't always pick the best times. Add some heavy drinking and a boat to the equation, and boom, I'm in the water. Not the best combination."

"You could have died."

"True. Not the worst thing in the world for someone like me, but I got lucky. I met you instead, and I have to say, I'm really glad I met you."

I bit my lip, and looked away. What was it about this man that made me lose my head. I flipped my tail, splashing us with seawater.

"What was that for?" Vince asked, laughing. He shook his head, droplets sprinkling on me.

"Sorry," I chuckled. "I felt dry. I didn't mean to get you wet too." I hated to lie, but I needed to be careful. Did Vince notice? I glanced at his face, the water trickling down his square jaw. There was no suspicion in his eyes. "Must have misjudged my tail," I mumbled.

"Hey, it's okay. Splash me any time. All I ask is that you don't drown me."

I frowned. "I wouldn't do that."

"I know." Vince held up his hands, his lip jutting out in a mock pout. "I'm kidding."

"Oh."

I sat, staring at the water and chewing on my lip. Part of me wanted to flee, to be safe, but the lure of land – of Vince – was too strong. I wanted to know more, but questions eluded me.

"Um, could I touch your tail?" Vince asked, scooting closer. "I know it sounds weird, and you don't have to. I'm just . . . curious."

"I— I guess so."

Vince ran his hand along my tail, and a shiver ran up my spine.

"Wow. That's kinda weird," Vince said. "It sort of feels like a wet hotdog."

"What's that?"

"Well, it's this kind of food. Maybe I'll make some for you when you come on my ship."

"You better . . ." I wonder what it would feel like— "Can I touch your feet?"

"Sure, but they're nothing special."

Vince pulled one foot out of the water, resting it on the deck next to me. My hand traced the bones in the top of his foot, fingers running over the grooves of his toes. His foot was soft with sprigs of coarse hair growing on the knuckles. What did it feel like to have feet? To run, jump, dance? What would it be like to have my own?

Self-conscious, I dove into the water. It was easier to talk to Vince covered by the waves.

"Going so soon?" Vince asked, his forehead puckering.

"I'm sorry. I just . . ." I couldn't find the words to explain it to him. He was a human. How could he understand?

The time. How much time had passed? "I should get back before anyone notices I'm gone."

"Sure. I understand. Will you come back tomorrow?" Vince stood up, and my eyes traced his form.

"I'm afraid so."

With that, I dove again, flipping my tail as fast as I could. Vince's grin stayed with me as I descended to the depths. Every encounter put me in greater danger, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. Sea King, help me.


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