Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  Pip stepped forward and clasped her right hand with his and placed his hand on her waist.

  Her smile widened into shock when she saw who it was.

  Kiss...

  Before William could respond, the music sped up and the couples were all dancing and spinning wildly with the tempo. The music moved fast, and they moved quickly with it. Before she could object, Pip spun her through the crowd so they were in tempo with everything else.

  Sha-la-la-la-la-la

  Don't be scared

  You got the mood prepared

  Go on and kiss the girl

  "Whoa! Whoa!" the chorus chanted as Pip spun her twice.

  Sha-la-la-la-la-la

  Don't stop now

  Don't try to hide it how

  You wanna kiss the girl

  "Whoa! Whoa!" the chorus sang as Pip lifted her by the waist and spun her around so her long, ruffled whoop skirt fanned out like all the other ladies.

  Sha-la-la-la-la-la

  Dance along

  Listen to the song

  The song says "kiss the girl"

  "Sha! La!" the chorus sang and Pip dipped her very deeply with the others, then skillfully pulled her up and spung her along before she could get her bearings.

  Sha-la-la-la-la-la

  Music play

  Do what the music say

  You wanna kiss the girl

  Over the course of the song, Pip felt he coudn't imagine it. William went from stunned to pleased and star-struck. She looked so dazzling in the sparkling lights of the crystal chandeliers. Never before had he seen her eyes so big and blue, so happy and enchanted. He took it as a good sign.

  He wasn't even aware that he was smiling his most winning smile.

  When the song wound down, and Pip wound down with it. He loosened his grip on her hand and her waist, indicating that she was free to withdraw if she wished. He was not aware that the grip of the siren's song had loosened on him enough to do so. Rip was a clever sorceress.

  Kiss the girl...

  But William surprised them both when she didn't pull away. She looked... puzzled, curious. She looked at her right hand clasped in his, and her left hand upon his shoulder, and her expression said that she knew she could withdraw any moment if she wanted to, but... why didn't she want to? She looked up at him, and her heart swelled in her chest, and instead of pulling away she strengthened her grip with her hands and tilted her head up encouragingly.

  Kiss the girl...

  Pip had never smiled at her more tenderly, nor more dazzlingly, than he did that moment. They say there are different kinds of love in the world-the kind that lasts a minute, a night, a year... and there was love so deep it changes your smile.

  Love had changed Pip's smile, and it was one that melted William' heart.

  Kiss the girl...

  Compelled by the song to forget their differences in rank and availability, Pip slowly leaned closer to her, his grip on her loosened so she could pull away any time.

  Kiss the girl...

  He had always been so kind to her. All of William' happiest memories on land were with him, William realized. Being outside, in nature, surrounded by grass and trees and horses... out in the corral, which smelled of dust and horse musk... By now he was leaning so close she could smell him, that same rich blend of earth and tobacco, dust and musk and everything she loved about the land.

  Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt dizzy and light-headed. 'It wouldn't be so bad,' she thought, as she slowly tilted her head up as he brought this down to hers...

  Rip was positively giddy with excitement.

  "GO ON AND...!" she squealed.

  Kiss the girl...

  At the last possible second, before their lips connected, doubt gripped William. She half-remembered her promise to faithfully and truly love another, and felt guilty for this faithlessness. At the last second she opened her eyes and turned away... and her heart broke on the spot.

  Behind and a little to the right of Mr. Bernadotte, a few dancers down, the Count's and the church girl's lips were locked in a kiss.

  The music wound on the spot, and dancers facing toward them gaped in surprise. Dancers not facing the count or church girl looked where their partners were looking, and were frozen on the spot. Soon, the everyone on the dance floor was gaping at them (for they had been the talk of the season, with many wagers placed on whether the count could successfully woo her or not), no one daring to breathe a word.

  After several seconds, the two broke away. The Count asked her a question with his eyes, which she affirmed with a slight nod of her head.

  The Count beamed, and turned to face the crowd.

  "Arrange the marriage!"

  The ballroom broke out with applause.

  Pip, who had turned his head to see where William was looking, knew instantly how much this would devastate her, and turned to comfort her... but she was gone. She'd broken away while his head was turned and ran out of the ballroom, crying. No one looked at her or tried to stop her as she ran out. She had no voice to sob. She left nothing but silent tears and a discarded mask.

  Pip ran after her, but too late. He searched the hallways, the front entryway, and even the grounds for her, but without success.

  "William?!" he shouted, "William!"

  He looked desperately around. Where could she be? Had she run away? Where would she go...

  Suddenly he stopped. He thought about where this mansion was, and where in London they were. He knew where she had gone.

  Without another thought to anything else, he tore out of the grounds to find her.

  Pip Bernadotte panted as he teared through the cobblestone streets. He prayed he was right. Prayed that she was where he thought she was. Prayed she was safe.

  As he neared that familiar street, he heard a song was more celestially beautiful than any other sound in the world. It was as lovely as the sea, as slow and sad and deep and lovely and lonely as those fathomless depths. Slowly, as he drew closer, he realized it was the voice of a person. She was singing.

  Be brave, little one.

  Make a wish for each sad little tear.

  Hold your head up, though no one is near

  Someone's waiting for you.

  Realizing he was on the right track, Pip tore down the street again.

  Don't cry, little one.

  There'll be a smile where a frown use to be

  You'll be part of the love that you see.

  Someone's waiting for you.

  As Pip ran down the correct street, he saw that the song indeed came from the place he thought. It was late at night, and all the streetlights were on while the shops' were all closed… all, except for one lonely little light from one lonely little shop at the end of the street, where the ocean breeze could reach.

  He could feel puddles splash under his boots as he ran down the cobblestone street, now sure of his destination.

  Always keep a little prayer in your pocket

  And you're sure to see the light

  Pip approached the front door, and was about to knock when he saw that it was open a jar. He thought about knocking anyway, to announce his presence, but something about the song stopped him. He felt… it would be rude to interrupt something so sad and beautiful.

  And, based on the nature of the song, he felt he could guess who was singing it, and who it was being sang for.

  Soon there'll be joy and happiness

  And your little world will be bright

  Pip slowly let himself in, and looked into the main shop, filled with more books than could be stacked on the shelves or stacked on tables and chairs. The whole room was lit, once again, by dozens of wax candles sitting on book piles.

  From the light of these lonely candles, he could see the enigmatic little shopkeeper, still so young and pale and silvery bright, reclining on her huge arm chair. Crouched on the floor in front of her, sobbing quietly into her lap, was William. It was a rather strange sight—with a young woman crying into
the lap of what looked like a six-year-old girl, who sat as regally and sang as sympathetically as an old grandmother comforting her granddaughter.

  Pip realized the beautiful music came from the record player on the shopkeeper's front desk, and the shopkeeper herself was singing the heart-breakingly sad song. William' shoulders shook with the force of her sobs, and the shopkeeper gently stroked her hair as she sang.

  Have faith little one

  'Til your hopes and your wishes come true.

  Despite the comforting nature of the song, or perhaps because of it, William' shoulders shook and rocked even harder with the force of her sobbing.

  You must try to be brave little one.

  Someone's waiting to… love… you…

  The music from the record player eventually drew to a close, and the shopkeeper merely continued to stroke William' hair as the song slowed to a close.

  For a split second, nothing could be heard in the shop but her silent, voiceless sobs.

  The shopkeeper opened her eyes, which were so fathomless and soft, and she spoke, and her voice was no longer fresh and new, but wise and ancient.

  "Please don't cry, William," she said gently, in her soft and ageless way. "Even with we supposed immortal creatures… when our bodies and souls are torn asunder… then our essences are free, and allowed to wander the heavens."

  Small wonder, this did not make her feel better, and her shoulders were racked with sobs.

  The shopkeeper smiled kindly down at her, empathetic to her suffering but also smiling almost secretively, like she knew something good was in store for her.

  William' pain moved Pip though. He could not stand it any long. He took a step forward, and instantly felt the floorboard creek under him, and the door he eased open groaned beside him.

  William instantly shot up to her knees, and started furiously wiping the tears from her eyes.

  "Ah, what excellent timing," Helena said. " 'Speaketh of the Devil, and he shall arrive.' "

  William kept wiping the tears from her eyes, even when they were gone, and refused to look up. She was too shy.

  Pip wanted to say something, but for the first time he couldn't think of anything. The words died in his throat.

  "I must thank you for coming all this way, Captain Bernadotte," the shopkeeper said, as though she had invited him. "Our poor William has been quite distressed over news of the engagement. I suppose congratulations are in order."

  Pip had no idea how to respond to that. Was she mocking them by giving congratulations to an engagement that broke William's heart? Mocking him for somehow winning the race to William's heart just because the one she loved had chosen another?

  The man who had a quip for everything could only say, a little gruffly, "I came to take her home."

  "Of course," she said graciously, and bowed her head.

  William would still not look at him.

  "Perhaps you would like to stay and have some tea?"

  "Non merci," he said, "I need to call a cab."

  Part of him wanted to stay, but the way William avoided his eye almost compelled him to leave. He felt simultaneously drawn to and repulsed by the little shopkeeper. Part of him desperately wanted to know what she seemed to know, what she thought... and the other was terrified of it.

  Pip knew it was too late and too far to walk, especially in William' impractically fancy dress and shoes, so he told her to wait there while he called a cab. She stood by the shop door, feeling sad and forlorn. She vaguely noticed that her heart hurt with every beat, but she absently thought it was due to the heartbreak of her master marrying another.

  When Mr. Bernadotte came back and helped her into the carriage, she absent-mindedly noticed that her feet hurt with every step she took, but she was too distracted by the pain in her own heart, and she vaguely thought it was just because her shoes were uncomfortable. When they arrived back at the Carfax Estate—before her master arrived, it turned out—she ignored the pain in her heart and heels, thinking it was misery for her unrequited love, and she went straight to bed, wanting to sink into her pillows or die.

  The next morning William woke, feeling groggy and miserable. She didn't feel any more rested than before she went to bed, and she dreamed of knives stabbing at her heart, flowing through her blood, and stabbing at the tips of her fingers and toes from within.

  Her head emerged from the bed, her eyes puffy and her mind groggy. She felt it was only a matter of time before the servants came in, cheerfully bustling about her master's engagement, and she decided she didn't want to hear about it. She wanted to be up and out of the room before they arrived.

  The second she set her bare foot on the cold wooden floor, she felt something stab her foot.

  She gave a voiceless yelp and fell in a rumpled heap on the floor, buried under layers of her white ruffled night dress and tangled blankets. She lay there stunned; her foot now turning numb to dull the pain of whatever she stepped on.

  She slowly got her bearings, and gently turned her foot to see what it was. The skin was smooth and unblemished, as though she had not stepped on anything at all.

  Puzzled, she slowly, gingerly put her feet under her and started to stand, only to give a silent yelp and fell again. There! It happened again! She felt it so acutely, like sharp teeth or knives stabbing deep through her flesh.

  She looked under her feet again, and again found nothing. No sign or trace that she'd stepped on anything, not even a needle. She then slowly felt around the floor under her nightdress and blankets, trying to find the culprit. The floor was made of smooth and polished wood, so there were no splinters. There were also no discarded needles or blades that she could see.

  Thinking that maybe they were hidden under the fabric, she found a part of the ground she knew was smooth and clear, and she put the balls of her feet on it. Again, she felt nothing but cold, smooth wood under her feet. However, once again, when she put weight on her foot to stand, she felt as though they were being run through with several large, long blades.

  William let out another silent yelp and fell down, once again in a crumpled heap on the floor.

  For several heartbeats she lay there stunned, unable to believe it.

  Slowly, she pushed herself up, and looked at the soles of her feet. Once again, there were no blades or needles to be seen on the floor or in her skin, yet every part of her foot that had touched the floor now had small cuts that oozed blood.

  'What's going on?' she thought, 'There's nothing on the floor, yet I feel like I keep stepping on…'

  A shadow of a memory filled her, of a toothy leer and a lazy eye glowing from between black tentacles. William' eyes widened in terror as she remembered that scythe slung along that huge, muscular shoulder, and that mocking jeer mouthing, "Foam on the waves!"

  Terror seized her heart as her insides screamed, 'NO!'

  She then heard that evil laugh that haunted her nightmares. She turned her head toward her nightstand, where a large pitcher of water sat beside a huge fine china water basin, where she washed her face and hands every morning when she woke from bed. The air above the basin was glowing, presumably from the water, and the sea witch's wicked laugh seemed to come from the water within.

  William' heart froze, and her blood ran cold. She felt as though every beat of her heart were pressed against the cold steel and pointed edges of knives, and it felt as though her very blood was pumping with tiny little blades within her skin.

  The voice of Linda Mills seemed as vague and ghost-like as the flow from the bowl, and William could hear her jeer, "Foam! Foam on the waves!"

  She slowly hoisted herself up, ignoring the pain of blades pressing into the balls of her feet, as she looked fearfully into the basin.

  The physical water and basin were still the same, but instead of seeing the dim and see-through image of her own reflection, William saw the dim and see-through sim image of Linda Mills, the Sea Witch. The water looked like it was filled with black ink, and from the black ink she could see wri
thing tentacles and a glowing lazy eye. Her white teeth shined by the light of her eye, and Linda cackled maniacally.

  "Sleep well, Little William?" she taunted.

  William could not speak, even in her own mind. Her brain was as numb and foggy as the mirage in the water, and she could barely think of any words at all.

  'You…?'

  "That's right, Little William," the Sea Witch taunted spitefully. "I haf changed my mind. I've decided to alter the terms of our contract. Since you were so faithless as to almost kiss another, I decided I did not want such a faithless little servant to keep in my home. When the Count marries another, you shall not turn back into a mermaid. Instead, the blades you feel coursing through you with every beat of your heart und stab you with every step shall travel to your heart and you shall die. That's right! The morning after his vedding you shall die and become FOAM, FOAM ON THE WAVES!"

  The Sea Witch laughed maniacally.

  Panic and horror seized William' heart. 'No! No, you can't! We had an agreement!'

  "Oh, what? Did you think that just because we shook hands means it went exactly as I said it would?" The Sea Witch held out her tattooed hand in front of her, "Whose blood do you think these are made of?"

  Realization slowly dawned on her. Their agreement had involved a potion that would turn her into a human, but through two different ways and with two different outcomes. Either Linda would use her mystical tattoos that would turn William into a complete human, unless or until the Count married another, in which case William would turn back into a mermaid and "belong" to Linda for the rest of her long, 300-yeared mermaid life... or a prick of Linda's blood, which would make the potion sharp as a blade, so that William would feel like she swallowed a sword when she drank it, and feel like she was walking on knives with each step, and if the Count married another then the same little knives that stabbed her with each step would travel to her heart and the morning after, she would die.

  But if Linda's tattoos were made of her own blood...

  William felt week, and her knees buckled.

  'No…' she thought numbly, 'No.'

  "Have fun at the wedding!" the Sea Witch sneered, "Und thanks for the voice!"