All The Mermaids In The Sea

by Robert W Cabell

  “You see,” she continued, “in the cave they give off brilliant light as they grow up from the bedrock. Once they are cut from the stone, they are placed inside a large section of hollow bamboo, which is then sealed shut at both ends with wax. When you wish to use one, you break one of the seals, remove the crystal, and place it in the center of what you want recorded. It will continuously store the images from all three hundred sixty degrees around it, until it’s sealed up in the bamboo again. After that, every time it’s uncovered, it replays what it saw. It’s like a home movie, only it’s played on the water or the air around it. Its images look very like what you call a holograph.”

  “And you have some of these ‘home movies’ of the Olympian gods?” he gasped.

  “Hundreds, but they’re mostly from family gatherings. Not many are of the grand events you would want to see. Although Hermes was quite mischievous at times, and he made a few scandalous recordings of Ulysses on his long journey home. There is a charming one of Jesus when he came to see Poseidon.”

  “Now you’re just trying to yank my chain,” said Halder, brushing her off. “You did have me going for a while there though.” He laughed at his own gullibility.

  “No, I’m quite serious. Mother showed it to me after World War I, which was more than thirty-five years after my father died.”

  “She just pulled out the crystal of Christ, plopped it down, grabbed a bowl of popcorn and said, ‘Let’s watch this for fun.’” He loved needling her.

  “Halder, sarcasm is not necessary, and I don’t want to have our first fight about this. You’re just going to have to accept the fact that a lot of things you never conceived of as possible in this world, happened behind your back and underneath your nose! My family did have some rather exotic friends, and Jesus just happened to be one of them.”

  “You really are serious then?”

  “Of course! My Aunt Liban helped him travel from continent to continent in the years before he died—the lost years, as I think your scholars call them. He went all over the world: Africa, North America, Mexico, South America, and the Pacific Islands. On one of those trips, she brought him to meet Poseidon. They liked each other very much.

  “Aunt Liban gave up her tail to become a mortal and a nun to serve him. She really cared about Christ. But the point Mother was trying to make was how mankind can twist things around.

  “He was talking to my family at the dinner table about being the human Son of God—God as in the Creator, who also created the angels and the Olympian gods. They understood each other, but because he was born to lead men, Jesus was not allowed the gift of immortality in the flesh, but only through his soul. He talked of the plans of the Creator and what would be different after he was gone. Just like those who followed the Olympian gods, who sacrificed goats, lambs, and bulls to them, he would be a sacrifice for all of mankind.

  “My grandmother and grandfather were shocked. They could feel the power of his divinity, Mother said. They couldn’t conceive of a god dying for man. It had always been the other way around.

  “Jesus said that’s why his life would be different. His life would bring everlasting peace to the world. His life would show the way to brotherly love and would end all wars. That was the message he brought to the world: love thy neighbor as thyself … good will to men and peace on earth … and Jesus made that sacrifice. But the world of man didn’t hear the message. They didn’t understand his sacrifice.

  “Nowhere in the history of man has that message been more lost than in this past century. Two world wars and countless others, the genocide of men, and the pollution of the planet on a scale so sweeping that a woman of nearly three thousand years shuts the world out and hides under a tiny island, waiting for it all to just … go away!”

  “There’s so much to take in.” Halder sank down beside her. “I’m just a simple, mortal man. This is all so far beyond my comprehension.” He shrugged wearily.

  “It’s beyond the comprehension of all of us at first. That’s what the gift of time—or long life—does for you. It gives you enough time to see things in enough ways, so that eventually you’re okay.” And she kissed him.

  “Can we get out of here now, dear? I’m overwhelmed.” He sighed.

  “One quick peek,” and she waved her hand across the Orb of Nerus, “at Oceanus.” The vision of the empty city deep in the ocean, with its grand buildings, swam across the surface of the pearl.

  “It’s gorgeous!” Halder gasped.

  “Good, because I’ve always wanted to live there, and when we start having kids, that’s where we’re going!” She hugged him.

  “I think you’re going to have to raise me for a bit longer at the rate I’m going,” he said with a smirk.

  “All things in good time, and that’s what we have a lot of, my dear. Let’s just pay homage to Grandfather, scrape off as much lichen as you want, and then we’ll head to England.” Miranda planted a sweet kiss across his lips.

  “Sounds like a plan to me.” Halder smiled and kissed her back.

  They knelt, hand in hand, at the feet of Poseidon, and Halder trembled at the thought that this stone effigy was truly the god himself. With sincere and solemn hearts, they asked for his blessing in silent prayer, then harvested the gold coat of lichen that had grown all around him. Soon they were swimming back out to sea with the lichen in a golden net Miranda had brought with her.

  It took a couple more days of casual swimming for them to reach the coast of England where the family “condo,” as Miranda called it, waited for them. They swam to the city of Rye where a small but elegant yacht was anchored a good way off the coast. Floating deep in the water off the side of the yacht was a special kind of seat connected to a hoist. Once they were securely settled, they signaled the crew, who hoisted them aboard. Once they were onboard, Halder, who could still manage to walk with his elongated legs and feet fins, swung Miranda up into his arms and carried her into the forward cabin.

  They dried off and transformed into their human forms as the captain of the ship headed them back to shore. Within the hour, they were ashore, dressed appropriately, and standing in the main lobby of The Mermaid Inn, checking into the bridal suite as Mr. and Mrs. Anderson—Hans and Christine.

  Halder read the back of the inn’s postcard as they walked down the hallway to their suite. “The Mermaid Inn, crowning the hill of the coastal village of Rye, has been continuously open for business since 1159 AD,” he whispered in amazement.

  “That’s why I call it the family condo,” Miranda said with a laugh. “Father actually came here when he was king of Denmark, when he had dealings with the Knights Templar. It was also the very first place he ever took my mother out of the water.”

  “They do a good job with keeping the place up.” He winked. “Amazing what a good coat of paint will do.”

  “It’s also the most haunted place in England.” Miranda winked back. “It’s about the only place you will be able to meet the rest of your in-laws.”

  “Remind me to rent The Exorcist while we’re here, darling,” he joked.

  Miranda chuckled, a little too wickedly for Halder’s comfort, and unlocked the door to the suite, pushing it wide open for him to see. “I don’t know if the special effects department can get this bed to move and spin so easily.”

  The most massive four-poster bed Halder could ever have imagined stood against the wall to their right, surrounded with lush velvet drapes. In the opposite wall was an equally massive marble fireplace. Towering bay windows filled the wall opposite the entrance, bringing the sweeping panorama of the harbor right into the bedroom.

  “Wow!” was all Halder managed to say. He circled his arms around her, nestling her head against his chest. The scent of lavender wafted up from her freshly washed hair with its waves of golden curls that reminded him of the Lichen of Poseidon. He smiled a private smile of wonder and desire as they stepped onto the balcony to gaze out to sea.

  “It’s about the only place on land where Moth
er was happy to stay,” Miranda commented as they unconsciously reached for each other’s hand.

  “I can see why. If the room service is as spectacular as the bed, we may never leave.”

  “Don’t think for a moment that I’m not going to go shopping.” She elbowed him playfully.

  “Shopping, no! Please! Spare me!” Halder ran and threw himself on the bed and covered his head with one of the big, fluffy pillows, shaking in mock fear.

  “Get over it, darling. We both have only the one set of clothes they had on the boat for us, unless you’ve been towing a matched set of luggage behind you for the past twelve hundred miles that I didn’t see.”

  “Hmmmm …” He stopped his routine under the pillow and poked his head out for a moment. “I suppose I would get pretty gamey after a few days with only one set of underwear.” He sighed.

  “Yes, dear. And to love, honor, and smell was not part of our vows, so at least some shopping will be on the honeymoon agenda.” She flopped down on the bed and swatted him. “But that’s what makes this place so romantic and cozy.” She smiled as she rubbed the spot she’d swatted. “There are all these marvelous little shops right outside the door on Mermaid Street, which Mother always found strangely welcoming.”

  “Two duchesses in a boutique shopping? That must have made the papers. Good-bye, low profile.”

  “Mother never went out as the Duchess of Egeskov,” Miranda said with a wink. “That was always me. She was the Queen of Aegir, a small distant kingdom off the coast of Iceland, Father would always explain. She loved the cozy comforts of this place. Besides we’ll just be the newlyweds Hans and Christine Anderson from Seattle, Washington, drinking in the Tudor ambiance.”

  “If they built this place in the 1100s, how could they do it in Tudor style? The House of Tudor wasn’t in power until the 1400s.” He wagged a finger at her. “Something’s rotten in Rye.”

  “They didn’t build it like this at first, silly. It was more medieval when Father started coming here, but it burnt down in the early 1400s, and they rebuilt it like this in 1420, long before Columbus discovered New Jersey! Mother liked the Tudor style much better,” she said.

  “Guys like to take girls to ‘quaint places’ so they’ll get all gooey and romantic. It brings out the lingerie in them.” He tickled her.

  “I’m afraid Mother never owned any lingerie.” Miranda giggled at the thought and then grabbed his hands to stop him. “She was a pagan goddess, after all. She liked the Druid look. It went well with the ivy climbing up the walls and the hanging flower baskets. She also loved talking to all the ghosts.”

  “Ghosts?” Halder rose up on the bed and pulled the coverlet over his head. “Don’t tell me your mom and dad knew Ebenezer Scrooge. There’s really only so much a man can take!”

  “Stop being so silly, and don’t make fun of my mother.” She ripped the coverlet off his head. “She has the sight, and it can be lots of fun on land. We have very few ghosts in the sea. The sailors who drown always return to land or to ships, and fish and whales don’t have ghosts for some reason I’ve never understood. Also, the ghosts can sense Mother, so they tend to manifest more densely and more frequently around her.

  Whenever father could coax her into coming here, we would all laugh at the other guests every time some ghost walked through a wall to speak to Mother. There was this mad English woman—‘the woman in white’ they called her—who would come and sit for hours and have tea with Mother. She was desperate to have someone she could talk to once every thirty or forty years.”

  “Sounds a bit dodgy to me,” he said, poking her. “Anything younger and cuter?”

  “Probably, due to a letch like you. There’s this one poor little servant girl, very sad, dressed in a coarse grey frock, who was murdered by a smuggler when she found out some of his secrets. And if we’re lucky, we might even see the ‘dapper duelist’ as Mother called him.”

  “Dapper duelist? Sounds like a Gene Kelley musical. Did he tap dance too?” He snickered.

  “It really isn’t funny, and he just might hear you snickering and show up, smarty pants.” She poked him back. “You know how women giggle when we get scared. He died in that peacock fashion period of Queen Elizabeth. He was an older nobleman who followed his young wife to the inn and surprised her in the arms of her young lover. The two fought, and the lover ran the nobleman through with his rapier and raced out of the inn, never to be seen again. The nobleman died, and the young wife was run out of town by the children of his first wife.”

  Halder was beginning to understand. “This quiet little cobblestone street and old inn have probably housed more smugglers and murderers over the centuries than the Tower of London. I’m not surprised it has a lot of ghosts.” He shrugged, and then he smacked the solid frame of the huge four-poster bed. “But they know how to make you feel at home.”

  “It’s looked this good for centuries, just like me!” Miranda smiled.

  “I hope you’re not going to use the ‘I’m older and wiser’ routine on me every time we have an argument,” he said, glowering at her.

  “I’m a woman. I’ll use every tactic I can get. But that can work to your advantage too, you know.” She winked.

  “How’s that?” He looked at her suspiciously.

  “Well, there’s nothing like sleeping in a bed that’s older than I am to make me feel frisky!”

  “Frisky? That works for me!” And he grabbed her to prove it.

  Hiding in Plain Sight

  Later that night as Halder slept deeply and peacefully, Miranda crept from the bed and pulled a small, cylindrical bamboo box from her net pouch. She slipped out onto the small balcony carrying the box and a candle in a hurricane lamp, which she placed on the corner of the wooden railing. She looked at the glass cylinder that protected the flickering flame of the candle inside from being snuffed out by the wind, and then looked at the bamboo tube that had been made into a box, and smiled. Inside the protective box was something very special.

  Quietly, so as not to disturb Halder, she moved to the center of the balcony and opened up the box. As she took out an amethyst-colored crystal, she kissed it and then breathed on it, and a spark of light appeared deep within it. The crystal was octagonal in shape, an inch and a half in diameter, and four inches high. From her position near the railing, she could see the ships in the harbor below, and the sky that was blazing with stars. She had a clear view of the large, four-poster bed, and Halder’s handsome, smiling face as he slept peacefully. She could also see the large roaring fire in the marble fireplace.

  “I feel your spark, little one,” Miranda spoke softly into the magic crystal. “I know we conceived you here tonight. This is one of my favorite places in the world, and I couldn’t be happier. Your grandmother will be furious. Oh, not at you! She will treasure you beyond anything you can imagine. But she always says I’m a very hasty mermaid.

  “I’ve waited a long time to be a mother, and I wanted you to begin your life here, at the Mermaid Inn. Your father, that handsome fellow sprawled over there, will be so proud of you. Tonight is such a beautiful night, and I’m so deeply in love and so wonderfully happy to feel you come to life inside me. I just had to capture this moment to share with you someday. This is a very small memory crystal, but it will last until dawn. I want you to see what the sunrise looked like on the day you first came to be and came into my life. I love you, little one. I shall call you Adara, which means pearl, after your grandmother Helmi, whose name also means pearl.” She laughed. “For you are the same, but different, and I shall love you both for as long as I live.”

  Miranda kissed the crystal again, set it down on the railing, and blew out the candle. Then she walked back into the room, crept back into bed, and fell asleep.

  The next morning when she felt the sunlight through the window, she rose quickly, slipped the bamboo box over the crystal, and sealed it tightly, securing within it forever the images it had seen.

  The next few days were a blissful, p
layful blur that comes seldom in one’s lifetime and only to those who are truly in love. Then a message arrived that Mr. Grimm had docked and would like to invite the Andersons to dine on his yacht, in slip number twenty-seven, at 6:30 in the evening.

  “Grimm?” Halder laughed. “Is that your mysterious Mr. Bruun on his private yacht we’re going to see?

  “Yes and no.” She winked. “It is Mr. Bruun, but it is our new yacht—something I thought I would buy for you as a wedding gift.”

  “A yacht for me? Now, don’t think you can turn me into a boy-toy for some fifty-foot yacht.” He glared at her in mock consternation.

  “It’s more like one hundred and twenty-six feet, dear.”

  “Well, that might do the trick.” He laughed. “But how did you find one so quickly and while we’ve been sinning so much incognito?”

  “It isn’t sinning when you’re married, darling, and I decided to buy it a day or two before I proposed to you.”

  “Come to think of it, you did start the ball rolling.” And he kissed her.

  “Well it’s a good thing that one of us thinks ahead, and now for more reasons than one,” she said, tapping her belly and grinning at him.

  “Wait a minute.” He stopped to look at her carefully. “You just tapped the one place a woman should never tap in front of a man unless she’s talking turkey. Are you saying you’re ready to start making a family?”

  “What I’m saying to you, dear, is that we have already started one—a few days ago. Mermaids can sense and talk to any form of life in saltwater. And right now, your soon-to-be daughter, Adara, is swimming in her own little sea inside me.”