The Mermaid and the Heiress (A Retelling of The Little Mermaid)

6

It was all different up here. Hearing, seeing, feeling, breathing.

I slowly began to realize that Brook wasn't royalty after all. Her family was known in their world on some level, but they had paid, respected "staff" and friends (some truer than others), not subjects. Despite this, I still considered Brook and Nate to be princess and prince—far nobler than myself.

A stout, stern woman who had introduced herself as "head of staff" and Brook had introduced as Olivia, had assisted me through my first shower with much huffing and tutting. "It's like you have no idea what to do!" "Where are all these pearls coming from?" And by the end, wiping her forehead: "It's a good thing I didn't fall into your hair, because I would've suffocated before anyone found me." While her back was turned, I'd left the bathroom and nearly walked into Brook, whose jaw had dropped. With a loud curse, Olivia had shot after me, forcing a towel around my wet body. "Can't we take our eyes off of you for one minute?" Olivia had shrieked. Brook's wince had been fascinatingly full of guilt.

I was expected to rest, but judged sleep to be a waste of time and as it had nothing kind to offer, often gasped awake after a few hours anyway. Instead, many hours were lost to my screen-in-the-wall, which absorbed me into its mix of entertainment and education.

There was music—so much music. Dancing, too. On one occasion, watching a line of females link their arms and kick their legs, I mimicked them as though my sisters flanked me. I tripped and landed on my back, continuing to kick the air. Another of the staff named Jim bent to help at the wrong moment, and then we were both on our backs.

I watched dramas, reenacting climactic moments when alone. It turned out human behavior wasn't so different from that of merkind. Victoria—only Nate called her Vicki—discovered me on the edge of my bed, a fork in my hair (meant to replicate the hairstyle of one of the females), slapping an invisible woman (outrage!) and allowing her to slap me back (shock!). Looking very much like Brook, Victoria shrugged. "I'll leave you to it, shall I?"

Other lands and how they differed from this one were wondrous to me, as was witnessing the depths of my kingdom from the human perspective. But animals were best of all. Like the monkey that sat on a branch, I crouched on a desk, teeth bared. Olivia, bringing in fresh towels, let out a yelp and dropped the pile. She avoided my room after that.

"You've never seen any of this before, have you?" Brook asked once, so quietly I could act like I hadn't heard.

Nate wasn't as troubled. I would point at something questioningly and without hesitation or questions of his own, he would name it, then describe its purpose. He seemed perfectly at ease with my puzzlement, doing his best to ease it.

When I tired of it all, I would open the windows and listen to the birds.

Nate taught me the human way to eat. "Like this, pick up your fork like this," he'd say, and demonstrate. I preferred the foods I could eat with my hands—like pizza. Pizza was the most delicious thing. Then cookies were the most delicious thing. And then every new fruit was the most delicious. The names were as interesting as the tastes and textures. Everyone would gather to watch my reactions. "She's like a newborn," one of the white-clothed staff said, not unkindly. Only Annette was discouraging. "Shouldn't you be as big as a house? You're eating us out of ours."

Soon I recovered enough to move freely around the house. Finding Brook's shiny fly machine propped against a wall, I set it down, stood on it, and began to rise into the air. One elated hop later, I was rushed forward, straight into a closed door. The door opened. I blinked up at Nate and, seeing him, beamed. Between fits of laughter, he helped me to my feet.

As he joined me in my room, an echoing ring startled us both.

"I hate that one," Nate muttered. Then he said, to no one, "Cain residence."

A cheery female's voice surrounded us. "Hi there, Nate! It's Gwen. How are you?" Before he could answer, she continued, "Is Brooklyn available?"

"No, sorry, bye," he said quickly, and there was a sound like a raindrop hitting water. "At least she's being extra fake-sweet to me," he sighed. "Fake-sweet is better than real-mean. If Brook ever catches her acting like Annette does..."

Nate lips thinned to a line in a deeply unhappy expression, all his previous humor gone. Frowning, I put a hand on his shoulder.

He explained, "Brook's been letting Gwen pull her in again. That's her ex—they used to be together." He made a pained kissing face. "Gwen actually sort of met you—she didn't come in the room, but she saw you from the hallway after Brook put you here. She acted weird, probably because a girl was staying with us and it wasn't her. Now they're talking again and it sucks. Annette's been pushing for this since they broke up, and even Vicki's changed her mind about Gwen. I mean, she did save Brook's life—or so she says." He told me about Brook's birthday party, how Gwen wasn't meant to be there. "I don't believe for a second that she jumped in that water, and she probably thinks the C in CPR stands for charm. But Brook's really grateful...well, we all are, I'm just not grateful to Gwen. I think Brook either got really lucky, or someone else saved her."

Outrage filled me. The other human! Had she recognized me from that night? I jerked a thumb at myself.

He looked at my thumb, then at my face, and said, "Wait, it was you? Is that what you're saying?"

I nodded sharply, scowling.

Taken aback, he said, "Wow. So I guess you're even. You saved Brook, she saved you..."

I scowled harder.

"Why not tell her? In your own way. I could bring it up, and then you—"

I shook my head furiously.

"All right, don't tell her. I won't either—I promise! You know, for someone so small, you're way too scary when you're mad."

"Hey, you two," Brook said, popping in. "Was that call for me?"

"No, sorry, bye!" Nate squeaked.

"Bye..." she said, raising her eyebrows.

When she left, I sighed. Of course I couldn't compare to a real human—a lying one at that. Deep in my heart, I knew I had never planned on gaining anyone's love—but I intended to enjoy my remaining days on land.

It took more effort than it should have for me to leave the house, as I had the irrational fear that if I did, I might not be allowed back in.

Victoria suggested the beach, presenting me with a bathing suit. After slipping on the two pieces, I realized they were exactly the color of my hair. Victoria gracefully accepted my tackle of thanks.

As we walked under the bright sky, I heard three simultaneous gasps. Nate, Brook, and Victoria stared. I glanced down in panic, but my tail hadn't returned.

"Your hair," Brook murmured.

"Whoa," Nate breathed.

"I understand now why you didn't want me to cut it," Victoria said.

I clutched a handful and saw the brilliant shine. It was an annoyance while dry, but that didn't mean I wanted it altered. With a smile and shrug, I resumed walking.

"You tried to cut it?" Brook yelled.

"Poor thing fainted," Victoria said.

Tailless, I was clumsy in the water, but it still drew me. I floated thinking of my sisters, of Mother, of time that couldn't last, until Brook suddenly rose under me so that I sat on her shoulders. We crashed sideways when I kissed the top of her head—it was more my hair falling into her face than the kiss itself.

A hair-grabby child chased me while Nate, Brook, an Victoria laughed. Once she was called away by her mother, I collapsed on a small sandy mountain, only to have it rise, shake madly while I held on for my life, and run around. I lost hold of the thing Nate called dog and thudded onto my back for perhaps the hundredth time. The creature was kind enough to lick the sand off my face before dashing off.

As the sky changed, and we turned from the waves, I thought I saw a flash of fins.