The Little Mermaid of the Gulf (#OnceUponNow)

Part 7: The Last Mermaid of the Gulf

Mama Perrine's back was to Miranda, but even from where Calden stood with Miranda, the mermaid could tell Mama Perrine had grown stronger as she stood taller and straightened her shoulders. The woman turned to approach Miranda, and the mermaid could see that the old, sickly woman had been replaced by a young, healthy version of Mama Perrine. Young Perrine slipped off the shawl that had draped over her emaciated body and placed it over Miranda's fins.

"It will be too confusing if they see a mermaid right now," Young Perrine said in a clear voice. "Say whatever else you need to say to your people, but don't mention where they came from. Not now."

Miranda was too awestruck by everything that had just happened to make a sound before Young Perrine turned back to the pod, who were now standing on their newly formed human legs, covered in oil from the sea, which luckily hid their naked bodies from the citizens. At least they were alive and breathing, Miranda thought.

"You all survived that blaze out there," Young Perrine told them. "You must have hit your heads on some rocks on your way into shore, because you don't remember a thing."

"We don't," some muttered. "She's right. No, we don't remember a thing."

"Mama Perrine and these nice folks behind us will get you warm and dry, don't you worry," she said. "We got to get you some clothes now. Come with me."

The pod walked shakily after Young Perrine as the citizens of Grand Isle watched in amazement. As Young Perrine passed, Calden whispered to her, "No one can know about this or else this mermaid is in trouble. She's the last of her kind."

Young Perrine nodded to Miranda. "You're safe, Mami Wata." She chanted a few words, then flicked her fingers to the crowd of Grand Isle citizens. Their faces went momentarily blank. "Help these survivors from that explosion. Get them some clothes," she ordered.

The citizens broke from their trances and began leading former-merfolk to their homes for clothes and warmth.

As Maro approached them, Miranda spoke up. "Excuse me, sir," she said.

He looked at her blankly. Miranda's heart shattered in her chest. Tears filled her eyes. "Your name is Maro. I know you."

"Maro?"

"Yes."

He thought the name over and mouthed in twice before saying, "That's a strong name. Who are you?"

Miranda knew the truth, even just about their familial relationship, would be too much for him right now. She would tell him later. "Miranda," she said.

"Nice to see you again, Miranda. I need to find some clothes now. See you later," Maro said.

"See you," Miranda was barely able to say before tears streamed down her cheeks. Maro had already passed before he could see, and as the citizens followed the newly created people into town in awe, Calden stayed back.

"You're crying," he said.

"I'm alone now. I'm the last mermaid in the Gulf of Mexico."

Not only that, but Miranda realized in that moment that all she had ever admired about the humans was a lie. The gifts, all left by Mama Perrine. The resiliency she believed they had, all thanks to the suffering of other creatures. Mama Perrine wasn't resilient, she was predatory, and nothing made this more clear to Miranda than when she watched as Young Perrine lit a cigarette on her way into town and dragged its smoke into her new body. Perhaps old Dover had been right all along.

"I made a mistake bringing my people here." She lost her breath. "More water, please."

Calden cupped more water over Miranda. "You saved them from what I can tell. And now that you are still healthy and safe, you can keep their old identities alive. You can teach us all about who we once were."

Miranda looked out at the black sea. "Where will I go?"

Calden raised his brow. "I am staying at a home down the beach. You can stay underneath. Maro can live with me. You can have the best of both worlds."

"I'm not sure I want this world anymore," Miranda said.

Calden swallowed hard. "But this world needs you. I have not been in it for very long, but I know that it needs more magic. The world needs more stories and fantasy, and you are the key. You can make this world better. I will keep you safe."

Miranda smiled. "I don't think it's that easy. No one can know about me."

"It's not. If anyone besides the old merfolk ever find out about you or ever blabs about you, I'll have to fend off a lot of jerks who want to make money off of you or who wants to study you or something, but... in the end, I think that magic can trump all that."

"How can I spread magic if no one can ever know about me?"

He shrugged. "Some of us will, and stories spread. Stories about you will be passed down to our children and their children's children, and it will give them hope."

If Miranda had learned anything from humans it was that there is always something in it for them. "I get to stay safe with my family and teach them about who they used to be," she said. "What's in it for you?"

Calden's smile lit the night. "I'm not sure, but I know I want to find out."

He cupped some more water of Miranda, her cheeks warm from the blaze over the sea and from Calden's kindness, and carried her into town. She imagined, only for a moment, that she were really one of them, blessed with the knowledge of her past and of the landfolks' ways. Calden placed her in a small canoe, the shawl still covering her fins. "Pretend you're hurt and cannot walk. I will be your guide," he whispered to her.

He pushed Miranda over the water with her disguise. Just a young man and his injured friend, wading in the flooded streets of Grand Isle. A passerby or citizen would never know the truth, but one day, some would.

One day, life could almost be back to normal for the newest citizens of Grand Isle and the last mermaid of the Gulf.