The Last Nymph

Shy Nymphs, Bold Nymphs

The former professor found the whole discussion of Maera's sisters fascinating. He now recognized the stark contrast of what he had learned through legend and text about the fifty daughters of King Nereus, and their first-hand incidents told to him miraculously by one their own. He was also surprised that the Nereids were not as depicted in Art—often seen as virtual clones of each other. Instead, he learned of their individual differences in looks and temperament. And it made perfect sense, once one came to the conclusion that these young beings could be just as unalike each other as human sisters could be.

"Tell me," Doc asked her. "How was Amatheia treated by you? And the rest of her siblings when she behaved that way with men?"

"Many of us were angry with her. We loved her, of course. But we feared her nature would eventually be found out by our father. His anger under the seas could cause destruction to ships . . . and to the land as well. We all feared that he would assume we all were so free with our bodies. And so immodest with men, his enemies."

"Yes, I can understand your feelings."

"But at the same time . . . we felt proud of her. For being brave and daring. We saw her more as . . . as using those men as playthings. Using them instead, when they had jumped into the sea to use us."

Doc smiled at this notion, seeing it as a timely reversal and modern perception of many women in his own age.

"Amatheia always thought of men as stupid . . . and beastly," she went on, twirling her amber-blond locks between her fingers. "She never had true feelings for any of them. Not one. Not like me or others of my sisters had. She never told us of how they moved her heart by their sweet eyes, or how she missed them when the storms came, and they were too frightened or busy to even look down into the dark waves."

Doc nodded. He was beginning to understand just how romantic Maera's nature was. Just how innocent she had remained over the centuries.

"Many times, when Amatheia returned to us," she continued, "after those long periods of lust with certain men throughout the night or even in the bright sunlight . . . we avoided her. To make her feel alone. And to make her think about the worthlessness of what she had done. How it reflected on all of us."

Once again Doc was surprised. Amazed at the complexity of feelings and accepted consequences the Nymphs must have experienced throughout those now lost ages. It was simply never a part of their simplistic legacy, he realized. Such depth to their character frankly astounded him.

"Yes, we were angry with Amatheia. But it always went away when she would challenge us to a race beneath the surface . . . or to play hide-and-seek in the sea caves again. You must know, Doc, all of our sisters were strongly connected."

He smiled and nodded.

"That is until we moved to both sides of the mainland. And time began to separate us even more. Some of us were captured and kept out of the sea. Left to die. Lonely and heartbroken by the men we once played with. Others of us, like me, went to find the last island coves on the seas to hide in. And here it has been a quiet life. Though I do miss my sisters and yes . . . the sailors and fishermen who were lured by us into the sea."

Doc looked searchingly into her blue-green eyes.

"Surely, Maera, I'm not the only man you've spoken with in all this time. There are vacationers and explorers here each year. Mariners you must have come in contact with. Like our friends . . . that delightful group from England. The crazy ones who wore no clothes."

Maera's face began to light up at the mention of them.

"Yes. They were fun. But No. It's true. I have avoided all of your kind on the seas these past many years."

"But why then do you speak to me? Here and now?"

"Because of your age, I suppose. Your quiet life here on my side of the island. I watched you often and finally decided to speak to you. And I am not sorry for it, Doc. You make me feel . . . happy and give me faith that not all of your kind are as bad as I had once learned."

Doc could see she was being sincere in her confessions as well as her stories that afternoon. It also made him feel extremely special that Maera would come out of her hiding to make this contact with him. And apparently only him.

"But have you ever thought about . . . finding a young man here, Maera. Someone perhaps from those yachts or pleasure boats that cruise by us? Someone with whom you might experience again those first feelings of love?
She smiled and looked down into the shallow, clear water. She seemed to be blushing.

"Yes. I have thought of that. And it's something I have even dreamt about many nights during the summers."

Doc smiled back at her reassuringly.

"Maybe you will give me the courage to find such a man, Doc. Maybe my trust in you will help. Help to find this man. This dream. There are many these days who travel on these timeless waves. I just must not let my fear and sadness keep me hidden in these waters."

Doc was touched. Not only by her willingness to reach out for his help, but for the undying faith she still kept for the power of romance and possibly love. He took her confessions that afternoon as a challenge. A covenant to bring the young Nymph back to her powerful self. To allow her to employ those tender feelings she was earlier so eager to boast of.

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