In the shopping centre, I saw many human children with their parents, reminding me of my own daughter. The human children carried bags strapped to their backs. One particularly small child had a bag almost as big as her body.
A flash of pink caught my eye. On the side of the child’s bag was a piece of pink plastic, perhaps the size of the child’s hand. It was cut in the shape of a stylised mermaid, a human image of one of our people. The human images covered the creature’s chest with clothing. Our people do not like the feeling of fabric between our skin and the water.
The thought of fabric in the water reminded me of the pink ribbons on Vanessa’s crates.
“Excuse me!” I called after the child and the human woman I presumed was her mother.
Both turned to look at me. I hurried toward them.
“Please,” I addressed the woman, “could you tell me where you bought the pink tag on her bag?”
I pointed at the mermaid, my voice breathless.
The child smiled at me. “You like my mermaid?” she asked in her chirpy voice.
I missed Zerafina so much my heart ached. “My little girl would love it,” I replied.
Her mother cleared her throat. “I ordered it online, with some labels for her school things. Search for school labels, bag tags or name labels. There’s lots of companies that do it, plus they deliver to your house.”
“Thank you!” I smiled at the mother and child.
They walked off. The child waved and smiled at me over her shoulder.
I resolved to tell this to Vanessa on our return. We would attach mermaids to her crates, a far better idea than her pink fabric strips.
I wondered about the strips, which brought my thoughts to the fisherman. I wondered if his taste for water sports was as great as hers.