by Dani Stowe
“Is that my...” I have no words to express the joy I feel. “Is that my...”
“That’s your baby’s heart.”
Salted tears flow from my eyes and I cover my face in a giddy reaction. My hands are quickly removed, however, as Willis pulls my hands away to kiss me. “That’s our baby,” he says. Our eyes connect and we kiss again.
But I stiffen as does he. We’ve discussed what we need to ask, which is the baby’s sex and health.
“She’s healthy,” Lenora replies. Of course, she already knows what we were going to ask.
Turning the ultrasound screen towards us so Willis and I can see, Lenora points out our baby’s head, arms, hands, and legs.
Yes, legs!
“Don’t get too excited,” Lenora interrupts our state of joy.
“I knew there was going to be something wrong.” I am beside myself with more worry than I’ve had since finding out I was pregnant.
Of course, there’s something wrong with my baby, but it’s going to be okay. I’m still going to love her. I’m still going to take care of her. Magic, the mystics, the gods—they will not have their way with her. Willis and I, we will protect her and she will know love through all the days of her life no matter what.
“There’s nothing wrong with her, Athena.” Lenora shuffles, keeping her butt planted and scooting herself along the slick floors with her rolling chair towards a drawer to pull out a trinket. “She’s just... mmm... different.”
“Diffffferent?” The hesitation in Willis’s voice makes me glad I’m not the only one worried.
“She’ll need to wear this,” replies Lenora, dangling the trinket in front of me. “But only when she wants to keep legs when she’s in the water.”
I hold out my palm, watching as Lenora plops a little anchor—a pendant—made of gold in my palm.
“My gift to you and your child,” she says.
Suddenly, I am at ease. Lenora already knew the shape our child was going to be in—half-shaped by Willis and half-shaped by me. So, of course, there’s nothing wrong with my baby and I should’ve never doubted that anything but perfection—a perfect fairy tale—would come from Willis and I, together.
Willis peeks in my palm, closes my hand to clutch the anchor within, and squeezes. Tears are about to pour from his eyes.
“Have you picked out a name?” asks Lenora.
“We’ve decided on Azure,” croaks Willis, wiping his wet face and standing up straight. “Since it’s a girl.”
“Azure?” Lenora raises a brow.
“Mhm,” Willis replies. “It means blue.”
“Yes, Azure.” Lenora plants her hands over her heart. “What a perfect name for a most beloved little mermaid.”
Epilogue
Azure
Fifteen Years Old...
Wind blows from the north. The pages of my sketchbook lift at the corners and I press them down noticing I’ve made an unwanted line along the cloud that I’m drawing.
Flipping over my pencil, I start to erase and the wind blows more heavily across my face. My auburn hair gets stuck in my mouth, so I brush the tendrils free as well as from my stormy gray eyes. While swiveling my head, I see the group of teenagers, my classmates, down the beach still having a great time.
I really wish they’d hurry up and leave.
The sun is nearly about to set and from the look of their skins—burnt—I’m sure they’ve been here all day. But I guess that’s what it’s like to be cool, to have friends, to not be so... different. Time just seems to fly by when you’re having fun.
I hate them.
I hate the way they fumble over each other. The way they taunt and tease one another—flirting. That group likes to play a lot of Truth or Dare. They even do it at school and it grosses me out to think how much spit has been swapped between them.
Oh, no! He’s looking at me again.
Trip. That’s his nickname. That’s what everyone calls him, although I think it hardly suits him compared to his real name, Theseus, which is the name of the most famous hero in Greek mythology.
Flipping my hair off my shoulder, I go back to my drawing. Beneath a cloud, I’m tempted to draw an image of Trip. Again. Already six feet tall with broad shoulders, long limbs, and lean muscle, I suspect Trip will eventually outgrow the lanky teen look to become anatomically perfect, except for the huge scar over his torso.
I peep back to get a better look at him. Trip has his mother’s hair—a beautiful blond that shines gold. He has her eyes as well—big, blue, and wide like the ocean. People say he also has a heart like hers, too—overly compassionate. His mother, Yanka, is a nurse known to hoard animals. Apparently, Trip hoards a lot of critters as well so it’s not surprising he’s brought a few dogs with him to hang out amongst his friends.
I’m sorry to say, I hate the dogs because they know I’m different. They like to spy on me as much as their owner does, but at least they keep their distance.
The dogs howl in delight at Trip’s friends as everyone leaps and splashes, playing in the small waves rolling in. Trip, however, doesn’t go anywhere near the water. He just stands around, kicking the sand, stretching his arms, bending this way and that, as if he’s contemplating or perhaps gathering the courage to get in the water, but he doesn’t go in.
Considering what he went through this past summer, I don’t blame him.
He turns his head my way and I find myself caught in his gaze until he pivots and marches my way.
Oh crap!
Quickly, I shuffle with my things. Closing my notebook, I slide it under my butt to sit on it. I smooth my wild hair down my face, sit crisscross, and clutch my pencil in my lap.
As Trip approaches with confidence, swinging his arms, the sand flying out from behind his heels as he makes his way to me, I see his scar. Like a rainbow turned sideways, the enormous bite mark fans over his chest and abdomen reaching into his groin where I cannot see the end, despite the low hanging waistline of his surf shorts.
“Hey,” he says. His two feet halt right next to me.
“Hi.” My eyes blink up as my head tilts way back to see the young man, a sophomore in high school like me, towering above.
“Would you mind if I sit?” He points to the sand where his toes are wiggling just two inches from me.
Between the columns that are his legs, I see his friends have all stopped playing. Like ducks in a pond, they bob with each wave, spying on us.
“Don’t mind them,” he says and plants his butt in the sand, propping his knees up where he rests his forearms. I want to mirror his action, so I can catch my breath. He’s more gorgeous up close than he is from far away and I have an urge to pant.
I inhale slowly. He smells good, like coconut (probably from his sunscreen) mixed with spicy cologne. Of all the beaches I’ve visited, I can honestly say Trip smells the most exotic of any tropical paradise.
“Can I... do you... is there something I can do for you?” I ask.
I don’t know why he’s come to sit next to me. He’s tried talking to me before, but I ignore him. As popular as he is, I figure he just wants to tease me like a lot of my classmates often do usually as one of their dares.
“Nah, I just...” Our eyes lock for a moment before he looks at my legs.
I gather my knees in my arms, pulling my legs to my chest. “If you’re here to poke fun at me—"
“That’s not why I’m here.” The natural pout of his mouth disappears as he grins. “You looked like you could use some company. If you’d rather be alone...”
Puppy dog eyes, which I’ve never seen so cute before, blink.
“It’s fine,” I mutter.
“Cool.” He sits and points to the ocean. “You swim?”
“Rarely,” I lie. “How about you? Are you not planning to surf today?” I’ve seen him surfing many times—for years. He’s very good.
“Nah,” he says lowly, picking up sand and throwing it.
“Is that because of...” I point to his
scar.
“Yeah.” He bites his bottom lip as his shoulders shrug. “I miss it though. I miss surfing a lot.”
“So why don’t you take a board out?”
“The attack, I guess,” he says, locking eyes with me again.
“You shouldn’t be afraid to go back out there. The likelihood that you’ll get bitten by a shark a second time... I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
He bows his chin. “It’s still possible.”
Unfortunately, it is still possible. Lenora allows the beasts of the sea to be free except when she needs their help to heal someone.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the necklace hanging around Trip’s neck.
“It’s a shark tooth. Lenora gave it to me after the attack. Lenora is so weird, you know?”
“Oh, I know.”
“But I trust her, so I still want to wear it for some reason. She said it would help me keep perspective and maybe lead me to the cure I seek.”
“Cure? Cure for what?”
He takes the necklace off and dangles it in front of me. “My fear.”
I put out my hand where he drops the tooth into my palm.
“That’s a little strange, giving someone a shark tooth to wear after they were attacked.”
Trip lifts the anchor at my neck. “Can I see yours?”
Reluctantly, I lift the golden pendant over my head and hand it over, but I do it quickly. I don’t want him to see the gooseflesh that’s risen in reaction to the slight brush of his fingers.
“How about you?” He squints one eye at me, slipping my own necklace over his head, making me uneasy. “There’s a rumor that’s been going around since day one of kindergarten that you got this charm from Lenora as well, and it keeps you from...” He clears his throat. “Turning into a mermaid.”
I loosen my palm. I’ve just pierced my skin. I had no idea I’d been clutching his shark tooth so tightly. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” He squints his other eye at me.
“Yes, it is.” I hug my legs tighter, planting my cheek on my knees.
“Hey, Trip!” shouts one of his friends. “We’re leaving. Sun’s gone down.”
“That’s cool, man. I’m going to stay here for a bit. You guys go on ahead,” he yells back.
“Maybe you should go with your friends,” I encourage.
“Maybe I want to stay a while longer.” He picks up some sand and throws the grains at my legs.
I scoop a big handful and throw some sand back, which crash lands against his taut pecks to bounce and sprinkle over his entire body.
He spits, scraping his hands adorably over his tanned cheeks and sun kissed lips.
“Hey, you got some in my face,” he grumbles, spitting.
I laugh. “Maybe you shouldn’t throw sand.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so cute. Are you going to the homecoming dance?”
My breath hitches. What did he just ask?
“I wasn’t planning on... I don’t... no.”
“You wanna be my date? I mean... can I take you as my date?”
“I’m not really sure,” I say. I’ve never been asked on a date before, and I was sure no one ever would. “I’ll have to ask my parents, especially my dad.”
“I’m sure it’ll be cool. Our dads work together.”
Our dads do work together—sorta. My dad works in marine police enforcement. His dad is the deputy.
“If you feel more comfortable, I can ask your dad for you.”
“You would ask my dad to take me to the dance?”
“Mhm,” he nods.
Jeez, Trip is brave. Even I have a hard time confronting my father. The man is just so... so...
“My father is really old school.” And I mean “old school,” as in from the 1700s old school.
“That’s cool. I’ll talk to him.” Trip rakes his fingers through his blond hair, shaking the sand I threw at him loose. “Hey, let’s go for a swim.” He gets up on his feet, putting his hand out to me.
I panic! “Right now? I thought you said you were afraid of the water.”
“Not water. Sharks. But I’m feeling brave right now. Come on. Let’s go in.”
“I can’t. No.” He’s wearing my pendant!
“What’s the matter? Are you afraid you’re going to grow a fin or something?”
He doesn’t seriously think I’d turn into a mermaid, does he? Even though I would.
“It’s getting dark, Trip. Maybe we should go home.”
He sighs, sitting back down next to me. His dogs, who have been sniffing up and down the shore, make an approach, but he whistles to shoo them away.
“They really listen to you,” I say. “Do they do everything you ask?”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Not as impressive as having fins.”
I take a breath. “Trip, whatever crazy idea you have about me—”
“I happen to have a lot of crazy ideas about you, Azure. Why do you always keep to yourself?”
I’m regretting the idea of going to homecoming with him. “Why are you always trying to talk to me?”
“Why do you always look so blue?”
“I’m not blue.”
“Mysterious, then. It adds to your allure.”
“I’m not alluring.”
“Okay, just pretty as ffffuuhh...” He bites his lip and throws more sand. “Listen, I just wanted to talk. Does being a mermaid give you superpowers? Can you read my mind?” His blue eyes shine like sapphires as he licks his lips. “Do you know what thoughts I’m having about you right now?”
I ignore what he’s asking. I don’t need superpowers to know what he’s thinking. But I do know I’m not the girl for him, especially since I’m only half a girl sometimes.
“Can I have my pendant back?” I put out my palm, holding his shark tooth. “Please, I’d really like my anchor back now.”
“Yeah, sure,” he says lowly, slowly pulling the anchor off over his head.
Trip places the anchor next to the tooth in my palm and the second he has his own necklace in his fingers, he throws it.
Into the air the tooth floats until it lands back in the sea from where it came. It makes a ripple.
Out of nowhere, a wave comes towards us, crashing hard onto the shore with its edge fanning and jetting speedily towards us. I yelp as I scoot back as fast as I can before the water’s edge reaches my toes. Thankfully, the water recedes, and I can breathe.
I almost grew a fin in front of Trip!
“Wow, look at that,” he says, reaching over my legs to pick up the shark tooth that was brought back by the wave.
“Yes, I see.” My pulse quickens.
“Lenora said the tooth would lead me to a cure.” He leans in. “What do you think she meant by that?” He nudges me with his elbow.
“I don’t know.” Dangling the anchor from my hand, I open the chain to place it back over my head before another wave rolls in and Trip will literally trip over himself when he sees who—or what—I really am.
Trip clutches my hand over the anchor before I can slip my head through the loop.
“Azure, look at me. You can trust me.” He rubs his forehead. “Everyone wants to talk to me about what happened during the attack, but I can’t even look at myself. What do you think when you see this?” Trip scrolls his hand flat down his chest over the scar left by a great white shark, which my father says had to be nearly forty feet long.
My father was the first of emergency responders on the beach when Trip was attacked, and I recall what my father had to say about the condition Trip was in: “The boy should’ve been torn to shreds. Only a true son of Poseidon could have wrestled his way free of such a magnificent beast and survived.”
I rub my legs. “Trip? You think you’re different, don’t you?”
“I don’t think. I know,” he says boldly.
“Do you recall what happened to you when you were attacked?”<
br />
“N-n-no,” he stutters as I get up to strip down my clothes. I keep my bikini on, but the bottom will have to eventually come off.
“What do you remember?”
“I just remember pain and struggling.”
“Do you remember fighting the shark at all?”
He shakes his head and I put out my palm, wiggling my fingers to encourage him to take my hand before his eyes pop out of their sockets.
“Lenora was right to lead you to me, but I’m not the cure you seek and you’re not afraid of sharks either. In fact, I think you’re afraid of the same thing that I am.”
“And what’s that?” he says, gripping my fingers to stand up.
I lead him to stand beside me before an open ocean. “We are afraid to see ourselves unlike other people.”
“I admit I’m not as afraid with you standing next to me,” he says.
“I must admit I’m scared to death of what you’re going to think when you see the real me.”
Trip tugs on my chin and I face him. “No matter what, I promise I’m still taking you to homecoming.”
“Oh, Trip.” I smile. “This is your homecoming.”
“Well, good.” He leans in to kiss me.
Fireworks! Shooting stars! Sparks!
They all go off around me.
“That was unexpected,” I say. “What was that for?”
“I don’t know. Just in case we get eaten by sharks or something.” He jokes. “Hey, Azure, do you want to get a pizza and watch a movie instead?”
My heart flutters. “Is that what you want to do?”
“Not really, no. I’d rather go back to where we were sitting and make out, but I’m aware your uncles patrol the beaches this time of night. I’d rather face a shark again than one of them.”
I slap Trip in the chest and he grabs me, tickling.
We land in the sand and we talk for some time. “Time,” he says is the one thing his father preaches should never go to waste. “A man could possess eternity and still not find enough time to spend with his loved ones.”
Trip lets me touch his scar. I let him help loosen my bikini bottom.
The next thing I know, my anchor has slipped free from my grasp and I’m hooking my arms around his neck. Swiftly, he pulls until we are waist deep in the ocean swapping spit and sharing kisses.
