The Mermaid's Song

My twin sister and I were starving. The number of fish in the area had dwindled to such a small amount that in order to preserve what there was, we had to take turns hunting. Tonight, it was my turn and I couldn’t stop staring at my sister’s back as I ate.

Laying on a large flat rock to conserve her energy, my eyes followed the curve of her bony spine. Nearly poking through her dull silver skin, it ran from her neck to the end of the tail that hung over the edge. The tattered ends of her fin brushed the floor, limp like the braid of silver hair that laid across her curvy hip. The sight of Rasha’s frailty twisted my heart.

I glanced down at the half-eaten fish in my webbed hands and frowned. We couldn’t keep living like this if we wanted to survive. Even with many of the others having left the Galapagos Islands for different waters, the seals were becoming a problem. Normally the sharks kept the seal population in check, but each year less and less had been migrating to the islands. We didn’t know why, but maybe it was time to find out.

I finished my meal and waited for Rasha to fall asleep before grabbing my spear and leaving the safety of the cave. The sun was still asleep, giving me plenty of protection from prying human eyes, but only for a few hours more. I zipped through the open water; the murky depths crystal clear to my eyes. As I drew closer to the boundary around the islands, I spotted a tiger shark suspiciously laying on its side on the rocky ocean floor. My eyes narrowed at it.

Tiger sharks are ram ventilators; therefore, they must keep swimming in order to breathe. To see one laying still told me that something was wrong. Following my gut, I carefully approached the predator. Long pink gashes lined the body where its fins used to be and my breath caught in my throat at the thought of this poor creature being thrown back into the water to slowly drown.

Shark finning was banned and the Galapagos Islands were protected waters; it was why our people chose to make it home. The rough stone of my spear dug into my palm. Obviously human poachers had moved into the area outside of the boundary where we seldom went. Otherwise, we’d have known about it sooner.

Giving the tiger shark one last glance, I moved on, hoping I wouldn’t find any more casualties. But the further I swam, the more I found. Hammerheads, Galapagos sharks, and even gentle whale sharks littered the ocean floor. My heart clenched at the sight of them, but I kept going. In the distance, I could see the bottom of a fishing trawler coasting along the surface. There was a splash and my vision turned red as I watched another shark drift to the bottom.

Baring my sharp teeth, I hissed and spurred forward. Avoiding the propellers, I skimmed along the rusted blue bottom and poked my head out of the water where I couldn’t be seen. Lights lit up the deck, revealing the wheelhouse near the front of the ship and behind it, old rigging above a large wheel holding a rolled fishing line. Men in yellow rubber overalls moved around the deck, hollering back and forth to each other.

Opening my mouth, I began to sing. An enchanting melody floated through the air, and one by one, men peered over the railings to search the water for the source. The longer the men couldn’t find me, the further they leaned over to see. Eventually one fell overboard off to her right, splashing into the ocean’s murky depths, then another and another. Some even jumped.

Once the trawler was empty, I dove beneath the waves. To them, I would be nothing but a dark shape in the midst of black ocean, and as the lights reflected on the waves slowly disappeared, they wouldn’t be able to tell which way was up or down either.

Singing my melody, I lured them closer to the bottom. Propelling themselves down with powerful strokes, they followed me with red faces and bulging eyes until they began to convulse; gasping for air that wasn’t there. As my hold on them broke, I watched the men struggle to swim back to the surface. Eventually their movements slowed and the last of their air escaped in a flurry of tiny bubbles.

Nearing the man closest to me, I cupped his strong jaw and watched the life in his wide brown eyes fade. If he hadn’t been killing the sharks, I might have taken pity on such a handsome face, but his cruelty couldn’t be masked by pretty packaging.

I left their bodies to sink to the bottom, and grabbed one of the shark carcasses on my way home. The large fish weren’t normally in our diet, but at least Rasha and I would eat well for a couple of days, and the shark’s death wouldn’t go to waste. When I reached our cave, I shook Rasha awake. Opening her eyes, the black pupil large against the ice blue of her iris, she frowned at me.

I showed her the shark.

Without saying anything, she knew what had happened, and reached out to gently stroke the rough skin where the dorsal fin used to be. A melody, different than the one I used to enchant the poachers, escaped her lips and together we mourned the sad loss of life, before sharing the meal in silence.

A week later, after regaining our strength, we risked leaving the boundary to see what happened to the fishing trawler. Just off the mainland, we found it stranded on some rocks; a hole marring its side. Beyond it, the beach was littered with people holding fire in their hands.

Often, I’ve over heard humans on their touring boats near the islands speaking and picked up a few of their words, but the song the humans now sang was strange to me. We listened from a safe distance, hidden by the darkening waves as the sun fell below the horizon. Once the song was done, a small wooden sailboat was pushed into the water and it drifted toward the wreckage.

A lantern lit the face of the woman operating the boat and highlighted the dense, dark curls surrounding her head. Wet streaks glistened on her cheeks as she bent to pull out a suspicious brown paper box and opened the lid. The contents were hidden by shadows, but whatever it was, she gently threw it into the water. Titling my head to the side, I waited patiently as the waves brought it closer.

Yellow flowers tinted red in the middle set in a ring of greenery bumped into me and I picked it up to inspect it. On the underside, a little white tag had human words on it. With my little knowledge of the human language, I managed to read: Funeral Wreath, Marigold.

The delicate petals crushed between my fingers.

I understood what was happening now. The humans were mourning their dead. But how could they be mourning the cruel men who were destroying the ocean’s ecosystem and our way of life? The evidence of their deeds was right there in the wreckage, and yet, they ignored it. My nostrils flared. If the humans wanted to destroy something, then let it be themselves, I decided. I hissed to Rasha beside me and she nodded.

Together, we began to sing.

The End.