Mermaid

by Carolyn Turgeon

  In a way, this body was horrifying. Without thinking, she ran her left palm across the edge of the glass, and watched the blood drip from the thin wound down her wrist. Her skin was flat and so soft. She ran her fingers over the wound, rubbed the wet blood between her fingers and let the sting of it move through her.

  Outside her door she heard voices. She stood still, her head cocked, hoping to hear his among them. But it was Katrina’s voice, and others she did not recognize.

  Awkwardly she reached for one of the dresses Katrina had had sent to her. She stepped into it, tried to pull it up over herself, and was dismayed to see blood dripping onto it.

  There was a knock on her door then, and she jumped, frightened by the sound. A moment later, a servant entered.

  “Let me help you get into that,” she said, moving behind Lenia to lace her dress up the back. “The princess wants you to join her on the hunt today.”

  Lenia nodded as the girl pulled the dress in tightly around her torso. She placed her palms against her sides, feeling the way the dress pinched in her waist. When she took her hands away, her dress was stained with blood.

  “You’re hurt!” the girl exclaimed.

  Lenia looked at the red mark on her dress in horror.

  “Is something wrong?” another servant asked, appearing at the door.

  “Yes, she’s bleeding.”

  The servant bowed and rushed away as Katrina entered the room, splendidly dressed in a pink gown, with pink jewels hanging from her neck.

  “What has happened?” she asked and then saw the blood before her lady could respond. “Oh!” She turned away, her hand on her head. “Have you called for the doctor?”

  “Yes,” the lady said. “He is on his way.”

  “Good,” she said, heading back out the door. “I need to lie down now.”

  “She cannot stand blood,” the lady whispered to Lenia after the princess left.

  A few minutes later, a man came in, very official-looking and holding a bag, followed by several servants, who helped Lenia onto the bed.

  “She is cut,” he said, examining her hand. “It is not serious. It just needs to be bandaged.” He paused, pressing on her abdomen. Lenia opened her mouth, as if to cry out in pain. The center of her body raw and searing. “Ah,” he said. “There is bleeding here, too. This seems to be … a feminine matter.”

  “Shall I call for the healer woman?” one of the ladies asked.

  “Yes, I think she will be of more help here,” he said and nodded shortly. Then he left as a servant came back with strips of cloth and began bandaging Lenia’s left hand.

  A while later, there was another knock on the door. An older woman, short and bulky, with wide, rounded hips, came in. She had long, dark silver hair, pale eyes, and a loose skirt. Bracelets jingled from her wrists.

  She focused on Lenia straightaway. “Leave us now,” she said, gesturing to the servants and ladies who remained in the room. Her voice was soft, a voice used to being around sickness, and her movements were surprisingly graceful.

  Quietly, the servants stole out of the room. The woman walked right up to the bed, peering into Lenia. A strange, herbal scent came from the basket she was carrying, covered with cloth. Immediately Lenia thought of Sybil.

  “They say that someone found you, on the beach,” she said. “That you can’t speak. Is that right?”

  Lenia nodded.

  “And you can’t write?”

  No.

  “Will you open your mouth for me?” the woman asked gently, nodding.

  Lenia opened her mouth and let the woman peer in, watched the look of surprise that came over her face.

  “Someone removed your tongue.”

  Lenia nodded.

  “You must have had something to say in your time, didn’t you? You poor girl. Someone wanted to hurt you, didn’t they?”

  Lenia shook her head no, focused on the woman. I chose this, she thought. It was the price I paid to come here. I came here to be with him and to live forever.

  To her surprise, the woman reared back and stared at her with wide eyes. “Did you say something?” she asked. She examined Lenia for a moment, then picked up Lenia’s right hand and turned it over, staring at her palm.

  “What a strange creature you are,” she said. “I have never seen a palm with a life line like yours. You have the life line of a child.”

  Lenia pulled her hand away, embarrassed.

  The woman looked at her. “I only mean that I can see you are very special,” she said. “Forgive me. My name is Agnes. I am a friend.”

  She took Lenia’s other hand and carefully unwrapped the bandages, then rubbed a salve over the palm, closing Lenia’s fingers around it.

  She lifted Lenia’s dress and placed her palm against Lenia’s abdomen, felt between her legs. “Relax,” she said. “I will not hurt you.”

  Lenia closed her eyes, wincing with pain. How strange to have a body that could be forced open like this. It was so different from when she’d been with the prince, when her body had opened naturally.

  “Ah, you are fine,” Agnes said, removing her hand, which was streaked with blood, and pulling Lenia’s dress back down. “You have had your womanhood broken. Yes?”

  Broken.

  “It is painful business, lying with men,” she said. “Do not let yourself be abused. Do you understand me?”

  Lenia nodded.

  I need him to fall in love with me. Please help me.

  “You cannot make it too easy for a man like him. Do you know that? If you want him to love you.”

  Lenia just looked back at her. Agnes dropped her eyes, shaking her head slightly and letting out a small laugh. “I’ve become a mind reader, it seems,” she said.

  Yes.

  Agnes wrinkled her forehead. “Now, I will arrange for you to be washed. If you need anything, I live close to the castle, in a small house across from the church. You can recognize my house by the dried yarrow on the door. Call for me or come to me, any time. I will just leave you with this salve made from bark. You can use it to ease aches and pains.”

  For my legs, my feet.

  “Yes,” Agnes said. She stared at Lenia again, into her eyes. “You are trying to say something to me, aren’t you?”

  Lenia nodded, pointed to her legs.

  Agnes smiled. “The salve. It will help the pain in your legs.”

  Thank you.

  Agnes cocked her head, as if trying to hear Lenia, then reached out and touched Lenia’s hand. “What a strange one you are. Be careful here.”

  Lenia nodded and watched her go. Then she looked down at her injured palm, which was smooth and perfect now. As pale as a pearl.

  LATER, KATRINA CAME in and sat on the bed next to her.

  “I think perhaps … you lay with my brother yesterday?” she said as she stroked Lenia’s hair. “I thought he would find you pleasing. No one has caught his fancy since he returned from his last exploit. It was very out of character. I don’t like it when people change like that.”

  Katrina’s hand was soft against her, and the princess smelled of flowers. A pleasant smell. Lenia stared at her, trying to read her mind. Could Katrina tell that something was strange about her? That she had come from the sea?

  Help me, she thought.

  “There is a hunt today,” Katrina said brightly. “Will you come, Astrid? It will be wonderful.”

  Lenia looked at her, liking the sound of the name he’d given her. She nodded.

  “My brother loves to hunt.”

  THAT AFTERNOON, THERE was great excitement around the castle. Noble men and women, and the king and queen themselves, gathered on the greens, where horses were being brought around and the dogs and huntsmen were assembling.

  Lenia stared, shocked. These huge black creatures with long, thin necks, faces bobbing up and down as if they were floating on water. Their black eyes on the sides of their heads, staring. Like fish, she thought, breathing in. She watched as a stableman lifted Katri
na up onto one of the beasts, as she settled in and grabbed the reins, her delicate heels resting along its glistening, muscled side. On the other side of the field, closer to the forest, Lenia could see the prince ready for the hunt, consulting with other men and nobles, all of them with horns and weapons strapped to their sides. A swarm of dogs crowded at their feet, howling. The forest wavered in the distance, as one by one the huntsmen began to disappear inside it.

  A stableman brought one of the horses to her. It towered over her, then bent its long head to her neck. She could feel its breath, her skin prickling where it nuzzled her. And then its long lashes were right next to her face, grazing her cheeks.

  She put her palm on its neck, stared up at it in amazement. For a moment, she forgot the prince, the long dress, which felt awkward and heavy on her body, the pain slicing through her legs, forgot everything but the warm creature in front of her, whose heart seemed to beat into her fingertips, move through her own skin.

  “Let me help you up, my lady,” the stableman said, and she did not resist as he helped her step into the stirrups and position herself on the horse, both her legs pushed to one side, the way she saw the other women mounted. She teetered, felt herself slipping, and then the horse shifted with her and she was steady.

  It was strange, looking down at how far she could drop to the ground in this fragile human body.

  “How is she?” Katrina called.

  Lenia looked up, saw Katrina and several other ladies smiling over at her, the sun lighting them from behind. All of them so pretty. The grass so green, the sun so bright behind them.

  They started moving toward the forest that spread out like water, the sea bordering the castle’s other side.

  Lenia swayed on top of the animal, grasping the reins. She could feel the blood moving through the horse, its pounding heart. With each step she felt more in line with its body.

  The dogs were released, a pack of animals bolting out ahead of them, and the group of them followed. Lenia’s horse began to gallop, and she was not afraid but felt a part of it. She leaned into her steed, shifted her body so that they moved faster and faster. And she was laughing, soundlessly, as the hounds rushed ahead and the horse raced to follow. The wind streamed against her skin like water. In front of her the men charged forward, and the prince was before all of them, lifting his weapon.

  She tore into the wind, faster than anyone else. It was wonderful, the feel of this powerful beast under her, moving her through the forest as if she were swimming, as if she were being propelled by her powerful tail. She felt less awkward, freer on this animal. She hadn’t realized how much it was a part of her, that power that had come from living in her mermaid’s body, having that strong tail that pushed her through the water. Here, now, she almost had it back. Almost, but not quite. And for a moment, she missed it, that freedom and power she’d had once, with every fiber of her being.

  The scent of the forest, the dank and the rot, was overwhelming, but she accepted it now. She was almost becoming used to being assaulted by scent, though she did not always like it. In the distance, she caught sight of an animal with huge, sleek antlers, bounding in and out of the light that filtered through the trees.

  The dogs ran and bayed in front of them.

  And then she was riding up alongside the prince. His head was bent forward, his hair slightly too long, his red cape flying out behind him in the wind. She turned to him, euphoric, and he was riding next to her, staring ahead, leaning into his sleek black horse, focused on the animal running in front of them, in the distance. Then he glanced to the side and saw her.

  He laughed out loud in surprise.

  His concentration broken, he fell behind. One of the other noblemen raced forward, and as the animal disappeared and then came back into view, there was a loud whoosh, an arrow whizzing through the air.

  The prince slowed down and watched as the arrow hit the animal.

  He looked over at her, shouted: “I’ve never seen a woman ride like that! I thought you were flying.”

  She looked around and realized she was surrounded by men. All the ladies were far behind, riding daintily through the woods, making their way to the scene of the kill. She felt self-conscious suddenly, stabbed by a pang of fear. Had she given herself away?

  She looked back at him, but he was riding ahead now, to where the animal was staggering in a small clearing, the men gathering around it. It was so light, she saw, much lighter than the beasts they were riding on.

  Everyone was clapping, laughing, as the creature fell, the sunlight pouring over it like butter. It cried out with a terrible bleating noise, looking around with terrified black eyes, and the forest smelled of blood and dying. She remembered, suddenly, her birthday, all the human men screaming, crying as the ship split apart, the men in the water clawing to get back to the surface.

  She looked over and saw that Christopher was watching her. He was no longer on his horse. Keeping his eyes on hers, he walked to her, exuberant, bright, as full of life as the animal was full of dying, and she felt exhilarated and horrified by all of it, all at once.

  This is why I’m here, she thought. Him.

  She focused on him, on his weed-colored eyes, and it all slipped away, the smell of blood and death and fear, the loud celebration.

  He reached out his hand and helped her off her horse.

  “You do not like to see the animal dying, do you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. This was not at all like the ocean, where there was not this hunting, these wounds, this slow, bloody dying. The animal seemed nearly human.

  “I have been raised around these woods. I’ve lived here my entire life. I wish you could tell me where you came from, where you are not used to such things.”

  He nodded to a guard, who nodded back, and then he was leading her away from the hunt and into the forest. Suddenly everyone else was gone. The leaves and brush crunched under their feet.

  After a short walk, they came to a river. She rushed forward and peered in, looking for fish, for mermaids, for shells and pearls. A tiny ocean, she thought. Exhilarated, she kicked off her shoes, picked up the hem of her dress, and walked in. The water was cold, freezing, but she reveled in the feel of her feet sinking into the muck, the muddy water, the tiny fish snaking past. She laughed, soundlessly, and reached out, caught a tiny fish in her fingers and nearly popped it in her mouth before catching herself. She opened her hand and released it.

  A breeze ruffled by, and birds swooped down from overhead, their wings spread on either side. She watched, tears coming down her face. The birds were like fish, and if she closed her eyes she could believe she was on the ocean floor, fish swooping down from overhead, the feel of the sand under her.

  All these emotions arose in her at once, until she felt crushed by them, and he was there watching, taking her in.

  His eyes hooked into hers, and she stepped out of the water and went to him. He turned her around, toward the water again, and began unlacing her dress. His mouth pressed against the back of her neck, sending shivers through her entire body.

  He loves me, he loves me.

  He pulled her down into the grass, and she pressed her hand on his heart as she slipped out of her dress. She luxuriated in this, this human feeling. Being this soft, this sensitive, naked in the grass, with the breeze flitting over her skin, his fingers pressing into her. The things this skin could feel!

  And then he was crushing her in his arms until she couldn’t feel anything except his mouth and that need, a pain that wasn’t a pain, from the center of her body, a place she had never felt before coming to this world, warm and aching, wet, pressing against him, and then he was turning her over, on top of her, moving into her, filling her, and her body seemed to dissolve, what little body she had left, until it was just him filling her, and from the depths of her body a screaming came, a strangled cry, and it was warmth and water. And she was, she was certain, healed.

  She was shaking, her body red, warm, she had never been
so warm. Her body itself like the ocean now.

  And for a moment she felt a great, blissful nothingness.

  He lay next to her, stroking her hair. “You remind me of someone,” he said. “You seem so familiar to me. I know I’ve said this before, but I can’t shake this strange feeling I have with you.”

  She looked up at him, shining.

  He leaned forward, opened her mouth. “You’re so perfect, so beautiful, and yet you have no tongue. You’re like a dream creature, sent here just for me. Aren’t you? I can tell you anything, and you just look at me with those beautiful eyes, like you understand everything.”

  She reached out her hand and stroked his face.

  “I have felt so strange lately,” he said.

  My soul, she thought. Tell me everything.

  He lay back, pulling her in next to him. “I almost died,” he said, “not too long ago. I saw all my men die, my friends. It was terrible. I used to love the sea, but she took everything away. The sea, I mean.”

  Tell me.

  “We were on a sailing expedition, me and a crew of men. I wanted to see the end of the world. They say there is an end, past the ice and snow, where the world just stops. Past the Northern islands, they say, though no one knows for sure if they are really there. Can you understand that? Wanting to see the end of the world?”

  She nodded. Yes. Something in his voice, some softness, something unbearably sweet, made her want to hold him in her arms and stroke his hair, kiss his forehead over and over.

  “I haven’t been able to tell anyone else about this, what happened to me. What I saw.”

  My soul. Tell me.

  She was so open. Just a vessel to hold him.

  “My men thought I was crazy, but I convinced them that it would bring all of us much honor, and that I would reward them with jewels and gold. I want to explore, see the world. This kingdom is so small, but I look up at the sky and out at the water, and they are endless and vast. So we set off, my men and I, with a chest of treasures, prepared for whatever we might find. Your necklace, actually”—he moved his hand over the red stone that dangled from around her neck, falling to his chest—“it reminds me of the jewels we brought.”