MAUREEN
There are parts of the ocean that no human has ever explored. Parts that remain so deep they are colorless, perhaps dense instead of fluid, a state of matter out of our reach and beyond our imagination. There are species of fish and mammals that we’ve never seen, living things that have learned to survive amidst so much pressure and weight, animals with no need for eyes.
Why can’t there be mermaids who live there, who skim the surface every now and then, somewhere far off at the edge of the horizon, breaking the surface only to gaze at the unending blue waves for a time? These mermaids flick their tails at the stars and wonder about the life and loves on other planets, in worlds beyond what they can imagine. They aren’t afraid to take risks to get what they want, what they need. They aren’t afraid to enter the castle under the sea, to play their magical harps for the kings and the princes, to let those mermen watch as they dance, as their hair sways back and forth into curls and question marks, soothing and calming. And when the mermen’s eyes roll back and they fall into deep dreams of glittering scales and fluttery goldfish-fin-kisses, the mermaids strike. They find the golden necklaces. They nestle the small jewels in their cheeks. They unravel the roped keys from the mermen’s necks and unlock all their secrets and take them with them, to a better place. To a happily-ever-after.
Those mermaids are not the mermaids of fairy tales. They don’t cut out their tongues or hack off their hair. They are smarter. They make the right choices. They swim back to the cities, the shores, when they are ready, and they claim their daughters.
Their daughters are always, always waiting for them.