Test The Waters

Chapter One: In Which Coralia Psychoanalyzes A Goldfish

"Someone told me you could talk to fish?"

Coralia looked up from her laptop. She sighed. It wasn't exactly an unusual question. Once people found out there was a mermaid on campus, she's been asked by seven separate people if she could solve some sort of water-related issue for them. And then there was that sobbing redhead in a mermaid dress who tearfully apologized for appropriating Coralia's culture.

"Yes, I can talk to fish. Why?"

The person who had asked, a tall East Asian girl in a fringed flapper dress and red cat's-eye glasses, her bobbed raven hair curled and pinned into a sangria cloche, looked around quickly before leaning in and whispering. "I think my goldfish is depressed."

Coralia blinked. "Your goldfish."

"Keep your voice down!" The girl who hadn't decided which era she was living in hissed. "Yes. My goldfish. Her name is Shakespeare."

"I'm sorry, what?" Coralia fought back a laugh.

The girl heaved a sigh. "I...hypothesize...that...Shakespeare, my goldfish...is...depressed," she said slowly. She produced a plastic bag filled with water and a solitary goldfish from her purse.

"Well, if that's where Shakespeare lives, no wonder she's depressed." Coralia turned back to her laptop. She was working on a very important essay. Well. She was doing quizzes on BuzzFeed that apparently determined her future once she selected the ingredients she'd use to make her ideal Frappuccino while she was supposed to be working on a very important essay. In any case, she didn't have time for determining the psychological health of a stranger's goldfish.

"No." Shakespeare's owner rolled her eyes. "It's just a mode of transportation." She shoved the bag in Coralia's face. "Now talk to my goldfish."

emma ugly dress

The goldfish's voice was warm and rich but unpleasant, like fresh spit. "He, uh, he says...he says you have a nice dress, uh, Emma."

The girl's eyebrows snapped together. "...I'm Kira." She snatched the plastic bag back. "Who's Emma?" Kira asked the fish sternly. Coralia let her eyes wander back to her laptop screen. "Is there another human in your life, Shakespeare?" Kira demanded.

"Fish...don't always make sense," Coralia tried to explain. "Especially when I'm on land. In human form, communication is pretty strained. She could have meant anything."

no rock emma

"...Right."

curiosity you ocean lady

"Okay...your goldfish is kind of just babbling now. Does the phrase 'rock Emma' mean anything to you?"

emma rock ocean lady land much very dry

"Um." Kira tapped her fingernails on the false wood surface of the table. Her fingernails were long and sharp (probably fake, Coralia decided) and painted a soft orange-red, like some species of coral Coralia had seen back home in the reef near Trinidad. "Rock...categories of rocks...igneous, sedimentary, metamorphic. Metamorphic Emma? Uh..." Kira engrossed in thought, or maybe constipated. "That wrestler...Dwayne Johnson? No. Um. Petrology! Wait. I know this one! Uh, the other word for rock...Emma Stone?"

emma stone, Shakespeare confirmed. ocean lady stay ocean land much dry

"Okay," Coralia said. "Can I get back to work?"

land good for land lady not ocean lady land good to me not ocean lady

"Shakespeare." The fish stopped swimming in the agitated circle and focused on Coralia. "Do you want to go to the ocean?"

no

"Okay...do you like Kira?"

good

"Right. Do you want anything...changed?

ocean lady stay ocean

"I see." Coralia pressed her lips together, frustrated. "I can't do that right now."

you hate ocean no ocean lady go

"I love the ocean, but I'm not there right now."

oh

"Is that all?"

No response.

"Shakespeare's fine," Coralia said to Kira. "She just really wants me to go to the ocean for some reason. But she doesn't seem depressed? I'm not really a fish therapist."

Kira smiled like Coralia had just presented her with a winning lottery ticket. "That's great!" She pushed her glasses up her nose and continued to grin. She had a chip in her front tooth that made her look a lot younger than she was.

Coralia turned to her laptop and pretended to work on her essay. She couldn't very well finish her future-predicting Frappuccino quiz with Kira behind her. "Um," she said, turning back to face the still-smiling Kira. "Do you need something?"

Kira turned slightly pink. "This is going to sound really rude," she warned. "Uh, what is it like? Being, um, being a mermaid?"

Coralia shrugged a little. She'd never really thought about it. She found human life much more interesting, especially since she had discovered this magical thing called an internet. Sometimes she did miss the sea, and there were some aspects of humanity she would never really understand, but she'd never really thought being a mermaid was quite as magical as humans made it out to be.

"Normal, I guess," she decided. "What's it like being a human?"

Kira blinked. "Normal, I---ohh." Her face lit up in a smile again. "Touché."

"Nice talking to you." Coralia began typing again. The clicks of the keys reminded her of a dolphin's song. She closed her eyes and made a wish on the internet. Please, let Kira go away so I can have my future decided by a BuzzFeed quiz.

"Is it difficult to get used to human life?" Kira prodded. Coralia opened her eyes, exhaling. Apparently the internet was not magical.

"I guess. This isn't my first time on land, you know. I've visited Trinidad, though never for long. My eldest sister chooses to live as a human, so I occasionally visit her, but only for a day or so. The air is harsher than water, I guess. Harder to move through, and walking is clunky." Coralia hoped this info-dump would satisfy Kira.

"So, wait, do you---"

"The Mer eat human flesh and lurk in toilets," Coralia droned, exasperated. "And my biological clock is telling me that feeding time is near. Begone, mortal."

Kira's eyes widened. Her jaw dropped slightly, and she swiftly snatched the plastic bag containing Shakespeare away from Coralia. "Um. Thank you for psychoanalyzing my goldfish, um, kind mermaid, but I have to go."

"Okay." Finally. Coralia typed a few more sentences for good measure, then reopened her previous window and finished the virtual Frappuccino.