"Come, Sing My Song"

by Brandy Dewinter
(Copyright 1999)

Come!  Come to me!
Let me sing my song for you.
Come and dream with me.

Can you hear my voice floating on the wind?
Can you believe in the song you hear?

Come, come to me.
Let me sing my song for you.

*************

   In the year of our Lord 17 and 42, I came into such inheritance as I 
could expect out of life.  It was accomplished with a minimum of bother, 
and truth to tell, a minimum of grief.  My mother had died in childbirth 
and it would not be unkind to say that my father had tolerated me more 
than cared for me.  He was a seaman, captain and owner of a small inter-
island trader, with little time for a child.  I was never sure just how I 
got through my first few years of existence.  Surely he would not bother 
with a nursing infant.  My first clear memories were instead of life in a 
small pen aboard his ship, treated with the same care that was bestowed on 
such cattle or other livestock as we might be transporting.  At least my 
pen was in the main cabin rather than the hold. 

     My father's vessel, the Celeste, was a gaff-main cutter that could be 
handled by one man, but really required a crew for safety.  One man would 
just get too tired on the several days we would spend shuttling back and 
forth among the islands of the Caribbean.  As a result, a succession of 
crewmen were as much family as my own father, raising me in the ways of 
the sea, and of seamen.  My father, grant him this, taught me my letters 
and such figuring as would be required to continue as master of the Celeste 
when that duty fell to me.  That I might prefer some other career never 
occurred to him, nor, truth to tell, to me.  

     The ways of seamen are not limited to actions performed at sea.  As 
soon as I sprouted nether hair, before I even had a beard, actually, 
a crewman whose name I forget introduced me to the pleasures available 
in a port city.  I never noticed the coincidence until afterwards, but 
that was when Father started paying me a small wage as a deckhand.  He
did not ask what I did with my wages.  His only requirement on me after
my in-port duties were completed was that, like the other crewmen, I 
reported on board when it was time to sail.

    In the year of my sixteenth birthday, the aforementioned 17 and 42, 
I became a full-fledged crewman and my Father took on no other hands.  
We sailed watch and watch throughout those waters, no more and no less 
familiar with each other in our isolation than we had been when I was 
confined to my toddler pen.  My isolation became absolute as well as
figurative when I came on deck for the midwatch one moonless night in
June.  

     The deck was empty.  We had a small steering vane rigged to hold 
the ship on a steady tack.  This was engaged.  Father and I would do this
whenever we needed to leave the wheel to take care of some shipboard 
duty not requiring both of us.  Of Father himself, there was no sign.  
Our ship had lifelines rigged and he had made it clear that it was safer
to tie oneself to the ship whenever one was away from the wheel.  However,
except in heavy weather he never bothered and myself even less.  I 
surmised some rogue wave or errant breeze had caused him to fall over-
board as I slept, a loss that surprisingly seemed to touch my heart though
I suppose an outside observer would not have known.  I had been too long
in Father's shadow to show emotion openly.  

     Though I had not been sleeping all that deeply I had heard no cry.  
Ever since that night I have wondered if he did indeed cry out.  In my 
mind is an image of him, realizing as he fell that there was little chance 
of being found on that dark night, and deciding one more time not to 
intrude into my life more than efficiency required.  

    At sixteen years of age I was not prepared for a life of business.  
After disposing of our cargo, now my cargo, at the next destination I 
abandoned the rest of Father's planned itinerary.  The money that he
would have used to fund another cargo purchase was instead put to better
use in the taverns and other entertainments of the south coast of Jamaica.
This was not total foolhardiness, as carrying a cargo on consignment was
nearly as profitable as buying and selling the shipment myself.  The only
problem was finding a suitable cargo and a merchant willing to entrust it
to me.  But that was a concern which I would address at a later time.

    That later time never became necessary, for well before my money ran 
out a friend I had just met offered me an opportunity tailor made for my
youthful enthusiasm.  He had a map to buried pirate treasure, lost for 
nigh on a hundred years among the many small islands of the Windward 
chain.  The legends of such treasures as this had been a staple of my 
education since I had learned to speak, and I accepted it as confidently 
as I accepted the truth of the charts Father had always used for 
navigation.  It was my great fortune that my new-found friend was a bit 
down on his luck at the moment, and needed to sell the map rather than 
pursue the treasure himself, and for only the half of my remaining funds.  

    The other half of my money was used to outfit the Celeste for an 
extended solo cruise.  My food needs were simple, though Father had 
emphasized sufficiently the importance of fresh fruit to ward off scurvy 
and in this one way I was careful.  So, with extra water storage and the 
best self-steering gear available in Jamaica, I set off to gather up the 
pirate treasure left lying on an isolated beach.  True, according to the 
notes on the map, getting past the reef to that beach would present some 
hazards, but none that I could not handle.  I was, after all, literally 
born to the sea.  

     Unfortunately, what had seemed quite clear on the map and associated 
sailing instructions was not as easily recognized from the deck of the
Celeste as we sailed in our search.  Time and again I would find some 
correlation between features on the map and landmarks, only to find yet
other features fail to materialize.  It was well for me that my needs were
simple, for it was a year, as best I could figure, before I found my 
destination.  

     The island which finally seemed to match my needs was made distinct
by the high cliffs which surrounded all sides but one.  That one side 
offered an approach at least as hazardous as promised by the sailing 
instructions I had paid for so long before.  Twin extensions of the 
mountainous cliffs acted as great breakwaters for a lagoon that was 
treasure enough in its own right.  Calm waters and a brilliant beach
beckoned from just past the encircling arms of the fortress cliffs.

     I had not survived as long as I had in the islands without gaining
a due respect for hidden dangers, yet the waters were clear enough to
made the dangers of a close approach an acceptable risk.  The bottom 
a league from the breakwater was 4 or 5 fathoms deep, and even a rapid
shoaling would surely allow me to get within a cable or so of the 
inviting lagoon.

     My first warning that the dangers of the island were greater than
I had expected was when the Celeste started to surge toward the opening.
Some rush of current that was not predictable, given the apparently closed
nature of the lagoon beyond, sucked us toward the narrow gap in the 
cliffs with greater speed than we had ever achieved in free water.  
Greater, in fact than we could achieve as we attempted to escape the 
ever-increasing draw of the island.  Even on a broad reach, the best
point of sail for my little cutter, we could not hold our own against the
relentless current.  Eventually, I was forced to admit this and tacked to 
try and align the Celeste with the opening to the lagoon, actually backing
through the gap that I had intended to sail through.

    Or, at least most of the way through the gap.  My sole notice of doom 
was a rending crash that converted our brisk though undesired stern-way 
into a dead stop.  Then not so dead as waves from the previously calm sea 
started to lift the Celeste and slam her against whatever obstacle had 
captured us.  In moments she was holed in several places and helplessly
foundering.  

     On resounding smash tossed me clear of the deck and into the raging
torrent that had seemed so calm from the outer vantage point.  In the 
manner of many of my contemporaries, I was not a good swimmer, but I 
resolved to try and make the beach, shedding sea boots along with all
other gear I had about my person.  It was not to be.  

     Father had never been a religious man, and so neither was I.  Yet, as
I felt myself slipping under the water again and again, never able to 
catch a full breath, I found myself praying with fervor to match any 
devoted priest.  Any devoted priest at all, for my prayers were not 
limited in creed or form.  In the end, I offered myself to anyone who 
would listen, crying with my final breath, "Dear Gods, help me!"

     My first thought when I regained consciousness was that some god had
indeed aided me.  I was on the beach, as evidenced by wet sand under my 
cheek rather than water, yet saved from drowning.  My second thought was a
rejection of the foolish notion of supernatural intervention, placing my
gratitude instead to wind and wave for completing what my limited swimming 
skills had begun.

     As I gained greater awareness, I realized some manner of sea growth 
had apparently made the trip with me, ending draped about my head and 
shoulders.  When I tried to rise to get a better appreciation of my
situation, I was impeded by yet more weed, this bound about my legs so 
tightly that I could not separate them an inch.  With some effort and
some very irreligious thoughts, I managed to roll over to look at what 
was restricting my legs.  What I saw when I looked down my body caused me 
to scream with a pitch I had not heard since I was a child, and then pass
out dead away.

     *What a terrible nightmare,* I thought, as I began to awake.  *Losing
the Celeste.  Nearly becoming drowned.  And the rest!  I have definitely 
been too long alone.  I think I'll sail for a port and some attractive
company.*

     That thought was a bit incongruous, I realized, since I was waking 
up on a beach, in the rain.  It was not my first time to wake up on a 
beach, nor even on a beach in the rain, but I didn't remember anchoring
my ship, so I should have been at sea.

     My morning stretch should have been an easy, languorous transition 
from oblivion to awareness, but it was cut short by a renewed recognition
that my legs would not move apart.  I snapped up and looked down my body
again, to find myself in that very nightmare of my dream, all too real.  

     Where once I had possessed slim legs, lanky with youth, I now saw a
fish's tail.  Not the scales of a gilled fish, but the smooth skin of a 
dolphin, and with flukes turned to support a vertical rather than side-to-
side stroke.  The flukes themselves were a glossy black, shading to a
shining sea-green about my knees, or at least what would once have been 
my knees.  Continuing my self-inventory revealed that the shape above my
knees swelled into a set of hips that were decidedly wider than those I 
had thought to call my own, then a waist that was of even stranger 
proportion, though this time being much too narrow.  And then . . .   And
then my eyes fell upon a shape, or pair of shapes that I had often 
admired in others, but never thought to see sprouting from my own form.  
My soul cried out to go back to sleep, to return to the hope that this 
was all a dream, but a part of me knew that I was all too awake.  

     "Welcome back," I heard someone say in a voice that was high and 
sweet like the ringing of the purest silver bells.

     Sitting a few feet to the side, half in the water and half leaning
on a boulder protruding from the sand, was the most beautiful woman I had
ever seen.  In other circumstances, that would have been cause for jaw-
dropping shock in its own right, but in light of what had been done to me
the competition for staggering impact was just too fierce.  Still, she was
spectacular enough to distract me for a moment from my own situation.  It 
was as though she were the very essence of femininity.  Take any feature 
one would associate with a pretty girl and make it just that bit more 
perfect than mortal imagination could have created.  Her eyes were just 
that bit larger, without seeming at all out of proportion.  Her lips just 
that bit too full, yet by demonstration setting a new standard for 
perfection.  Her figure, what I could see of it above the water, flowed 
with grace in a complex yet always harmonious symphony of shapes beyond 
even the limits of human fantasy.  All this was apparent in a glance, as 
her lovely contours were not obscured by any manner of clothing at all.  
It was only in her coloring that she seemed to have a limitation.  She was 
pale, as though untouched by the sun.  Her hair was white, her eyes such a
faint blue that they could scarcely claim any color at all.

    "Who are you?" I asked, and heard again that childish sound from my 
nightmare.  Though, as it echoed in my mind, I knew it was not childish
at all, but only higher than my masculine tones had any right to be. 

    "I am Aegina," she declared.  "And you are . . . ?"

    An errant gust pulled at some of that weed that surrounded my face, 
and as I moved to brush it away my eyes fell on the gap in the surrounding
wall that defined the lagoon.  There was no sign of my ship.

     "Celeste," I cried with the longing of an orphan for my only home.

     "Hello, Celeste," the woman said with a welcoming smile.

     "What?  No, I'm . . . " but my voice trailed off as I realized I was
nothing.  No family.  No ship.  No home.  No body, at least not the 
one I had thought was my own.  

     "How?" I whispered.

     "When you called to the gods, they allowed me to help," she, Aegina, 
explained.  "You were drowning.  All I could do to save you was to give to 
you a part of myself."

     With that, she lifted herself higher onto the boulder against which 
she had been resting and showed a shape like that which imprisoned my own 
legs.  In her case, her . . . tail was scaled, shimmering with a gleam of 
silver that caught the reflection of everything around us in a multitude 
of tiny mirrors.  She carefully arranged the tip of her tail so that it 
would remain immersed regardless of the surge of the waves.  

     "I am like you," I repeated, dazed beyond comprehension.

     "Um, not quite.  You're still partly human, I think," she said.  I
can't leave the water or I'll die, but I think you could.  Though, why
you'd want to is beyond me.  But I'm sure you can breathe water as well 
as air, and, well, other things."

     "Who are you?" I asked.

     "I told you, I'm Aegina.  Haven't you heard of me?  The legends 
aren't quite right, but close enough."

     "Legends?"

     "Surely.  My sire was Asopus."  Seeing my lack of comprehension, 
she continued.  "Have you heard of Zeus?  He, um, found me attractive
and brought me to this island."

     "I, uh, my education was limited," I said.

     "Oh, well, it doesn't matter," she said, then laughed.  "Oh, we're
going to have so much fun together!  I've been alone for such a long time,
and now we'll both be here."

     "Stay here, like this?" I said.  "No, I can't stay like this.  I've 
got to . . . "

     My plan was interrupted by the look of utter sorrow that marred 
Aegina's flawless features.  She turned away, shoulders slumping in a 
message or dejection no less eloquent for its silence.  

     "I'm sorry, Aegina, but, well, surely you can understand how much 
of a shock this if for me," I tried to explain.  "I mean, you're beautiful
beyond words, and in other circumstances I'd love to spend time with you, 
but, well, these circumstances are, um, not . . . "

     I ran down without any way to express in words the magnitude of my
need to regain all that I had lost.  

     Aegina, though, seized on one word in my plaint.  "Do you really 
think I'm beautiful?" she asked.

     "What?  Well, surely.  You're far and away the prettiest woman there 
has ever been.  Or, uh, prettiest, um, . . . mermaid?"

     "Oh, but I'm so pale and colorless," she complained.  "Even you are
more beautiful than me."

     Now, in my various occasions to sample the pleasure of port cities, 
I had often been told that I was handsome.  It was reported by those who 
had known her (never by Father) that I took after my mother more than him.
In truth, I knew that I had clean, well-defined features, with a longish
neck and pronounced cheekbones that said I had not as yet reached my full
growth.  Still, beautiful was not a label I had expected to be applied to 
me.  It made me laugh.

     My humor caused Aegina's to return, and her silvery giggle filled the
quiet lagoon.  As though that were a signal, the gentle rain that she had
not even seemed to notice and which in fact had not been bothering me, 
either, stopped and the sun broke through the clouds.  Aegina squinted in 
displeasure at a brightness I found merely pleasant, then slid down off 
her rocky perch back into the water.  

     Her discomfort faded with the cooling touch of the water and she 
ordered, "Stay here."

     "Quite.  As though I had any choice," I said, then slumped as the 
horror of my condition filled me once again.

     I spoke to myself, though, as Aegina had slipped the rest of the way
into the water and disappeared with barely a splash.  In a few moments I 
saw her returning through the crystalline waters of what was apparently
my prison, carrying something in her hand.  

     She surged up to where I lay on the beach, offering the object to me.
It turned out to be a looking glass, cradled in a golden frame.  In the 
mirror, I saw the reflection of a woman of a beauty to match Aegina's own.
In some ways, she was even more attractive.  The delicate innocence Aegina
wore was not a part of the image I saw.  Instead, this woman's face had an
earthy challenge in arched brows and hooded eyes.  With sudden insight, I
realized what my mother had looked like, now recreated in a visage that
would have been of compelling interest, if it were not my very own 
reflection.

     The sea-green eyes that I had used to such advantage in amorous 
conquests were still there, but my shaggy brown hair had become a fiery
red, flowing with surprising thickness considering its still-damp state.
Now that I noticed it, I realized Aegina's silver-white hair was itself
much too lively for hair so recently soaked.  More magic, obvious now that
my attention was called to it.  Despite her unclothed appearance, my
own body was covered in a greenish tint up to the level of my, uh, God 
this was so hard to accept, bosom.  Similar tints covered my hands and
arms up nearly to my shoulders.  It had the flavor of a formal gown, such
as I had seen on the great ladies as they made their carriage-borne ways
about the cities I had visited.  

     I touched the colored portions of my body, tracing the line where
my normal skin color appeared to see if I could feel a discontinuity.
Aegina noticed my exploration and offered further explanation.

     "I wasn't sure just what you would feel comfortable with, in your
appearance, so I took the image of beauty from your mind.  I'm not sure
I got it all right, but I had to do something."

     "Comfortable?  Hardly," I snorted, earning me another expression of
sadness that seemed sacrilegious in it's defilement of the beauty her 
face could show.

     "Look, um, Aegina, it's not like I don't appreciate what you did, 
but, well, surely you can see how much of a shock this is for me."

     "Oh, of course," she said, spirits restored as quickly as they had 
vanished.  "Let's go for a swim.  That will perk you up."

     "I, uh, I'm not a very good swimmer," I protested.

     She looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted wings to go with my
fins or something, totally incredulous.  Taking the mirror from my hand,
she started to wriggle her way into deeper water.  I realized that I 
would have to learn to swim, with this new body, so I followed her 
example, mindful even as I did it that what seemed positively enticing
in her own graceful shimmer seemed impossibly awkward in my own heavy 
motion.  

     Until we reached the water.

     Once fully supported by the water's buoyancy, it was as though all
weight left me, and with it the need to fight against the pull of Mother
Earth.  Instead, I floated lightly, graceful despite my ignorance of 
proper swimming strokes.  Aegina's silver giggle carried to me with even
greater clarity than when heard in air, and with a flick of her tail she
shot away.  I responded instinctively with a flick of my own tail and 
found myself following her with a speed that would have taken my breath
away, if I had any to spare.

     Actually, I was not out of breath, for all that I was floating under
the water.  With the focus of that thought, I realized I was not really
breathing the water.  Some sort of blockage had occurred in my throat so
that while the water filled my mouth and I found I could even swallow 
if I chose, nothing filled my lungs.  More magic, of a kind I couldn't even
try to explain.  

     That distraction was ended by another which intruded into my still-
saturated mind.  I had been following Aegina through twists and 
contortions that would have crippled my old body, and doing it at speed,
through the water.  At one point, Aegina straightened out in a dash from
one side of the lagoon to the other, passing pacing fish with effortless
advantage, and through it all I kept up with her.  She dove deep, then
surged upward, with me still closely pursuing.  In an echo of the spirit 
of competition I had always felt when challenged, I drove even harder, 
passing her just as we reached the surface.

     I launched into the air in a leap of pure joy, unfettered with the
limitations of land-dwellers that I had never known existed.  Converting
my upward motion into an arcing dive with sinuous grace, I re-entered the
water with barely a splash to find Aegina's horrified visage waiting for
me.

     "Oh, Celeste, I was so afraid for you."

     "Why?" I asked, not bothering to correct her on my name.  My old one 
was hardly suitable any more.

     "When you left the water, I thought you would die.  I would."

     "Die?"

     "Yes," she explained.  "Zeus himself told me that if I ever leave the
water, specifically this lagoon, that I will die.  He was very serious."

      "But I didn't die," I said.  "Have you ever tested it?"

      "Oh, no!" she cried.  "I wouldn't dare."

      "Well," I said, full of myself after that thrilling leap, "I would 
dare."

      With that, I started swimming toward the cut in the rock wall around
the lagoon.  Not completely foolhardy, I swam with a pace that seemed 
leisurely, for all that it was many times faster than I could ever have 
swum before.  From an underwater vantage point, I could see the fangs of
rock that guarded the entrance.  By one of them, I saw my old ship's bell,
proof that in fact the Celeste was no more.  At least, not the wooden one.
The strong current that had captured my ship was still there, but I could
hold my position against it with little effort and less concentration.  
Looking at Aegina's worried face one last time, I increased the power of 
the strokes from my broad fin and forced my way further through the gap.  

     And found myself drowning.

     In my own, male body.

     In that body, I had no hope of fighting the current, and I was 
quickly swept back into the lagoon, missing the rocks even as another
transition returned me to my mermaid form.  

     "Well, I guess that answers that," I said to Aegina as she swam 
up.  

     "See, I told you you couldn't leave," she said.

     "Oh, I can leave, and I can even have my body back," I disagreed,
firm determination in my mind and in my voice.  "But I need to make
better preparations or I'll just drown again, or be swept back."

     With that, and a smile of reassurance, I swam back to the beach.
Once there, I hauled myself up on the boulder that Aegina had used for
our earlier conversation, and looked at the island that would have to 
provide my means for escape.  A quick lift of my tail from the water,
preceded a pause to see if I could transition back to fully-human, male
form just by leaving the water, but no such luck was mine.  I stayed 
mermaid.  Apparently the curse, for that is what I felt it to be no
matter how benevolently cast by Aegina, extended to anywhere on the
island.  

     No matter.  I would prevail.  I saw several palm trees and decided 
I would build a raft.  Now that I knew the shape of the underwater 
obstacles, I was confident that I could make my way past them.  

     "What are you doing?" Aegina asked as I dove back into the water.

     "Looking for something to use to cut the trees," I said.  "Do you
have anything I might use?"

     "Maybe," she shrugged, indifference more than sadness in her 
expression.  She turned and led me down to a series of caves under the 
island, some of which were apparently conduits for the inflow of water 
into the lagoon for the current led into them.  She chose one that had no 
current, though, and led me inside to a treasure beyond even that I had 
sought when I embarked on my quest.  Any trunks or containers had rotted 
away, but there were jewels and coins and bullion in a disorderly scatter 
that covered an area larger than the deck of my destroyed cutter, piled
deeper than she could ever have held in her holds.  

     "Oh, my God, this is incredible!" I cried.

     "Why?" she asked.

     "There is more wealth here than I thought even existed in the whole
world," I shouted.  "We're rich!"

     "Rich?" she said with a snort.  "And what could we spend this on?"

     "What?" I asked, drawing up short.

     "What good is this money, with nothing to spend it on?" repeated 
Aegina.

     I looked at the gaudy baubles in my hands, worth enough to buy the 
Celeste a dozen times over, and the merest drop in the ocean of wealth
around us.  But there were no Celestes to buy.  

     "Come," Aegina urged, "I'll show you the rest."

     The rest consisted of a few rusty tools scavenged from whatever 
wrecks had been captured by the treacherous currents.  Unlike fine 
jewelry and bullion, iron and steel rust all to quickly in the sea
environment.  Still, there were a few knives and even a pickaxe that
still had significant metal.  I took the most promising and let Aegina
lead me out of the cave.

     Back at the surface, I crawled to the line of palms and started 
hacking my way through the tough layers of one of the trees.  My now-
delicate hands quickly blistered, and my slender arms had no real 
strength, but I kept at it until the sun went down.  For all that, I
had only achieved a cut perhaps a third of the way through the first
tree.  It was disappointing, to say the least.  

     Crawling back toward the water, I found a meal spread on the boulder
by Aegina.

     "What's this," I asked, grumpy in my frustration.

     "I thought you might like something to eat," she said quietly.

     Her slender shoulders shook with barely suppressed sobs, and my 
heart melted from it's stony anger.

     "Oh, Gina, I'm sorry.  It's not you.  You're wonderful.  But, I, 
this, well, this is just not me!"

     "I understand," she said.  

     What could I say?  I couldn't tell her I didn't want to leave.  Yet, 
I was mindful that she herself was trapped there, at least if the threat 
she claimed from Zeus was true.  I had never been with a girl who cared 
for me, as a person, any more than I cared for them.  The thought that 
Aegina would regret my leaving was a strange idea to me, even among the
shocks of that day.  

     Not knowing what to say, I turned instead to the mundane, "What 
have you fixed to eat?"

     Aegina made her own obvious resolution to change to a safer topic,
and started to explain the various dishes to me.  She had gathered up 
a king's ransom in golden dishes, then filled them with cold fish, and 
wet plants from the sea floor.  It didn't look appetizing at all, truth
to tell, but I took a few bites just to please her.  

     And then a few more.

     It was delicious.  All of it.  The plants had a piquant spiciness 
that was the perfect counter to the firm flesh of the fish.  I had heard
that in the far away Japans they ate raw fish, but I had never envied
them that culinary choice until now.  I was soon gobbling the food with 
unseemly haste, saved from disgusting my beautiful provider only by my 
obvious appreciation.  

     All too soon I felt stuffed to the point of discomfort, an obvious
bulge showing in my hitherto taut belly. I looked at her with gratitude, 
and then felt something else.  In the light of the full moon shining 
over the lagoon, Aegina's pale color looked natural, yet still pure as 
the finest silver.  I reached out with one slender arm, the tinted skin
looking like an elegant evening glove, and stroked her shining hair.

     "You are very beautiful," I said.

     "You are even prettier," she claimed.  

     At some level I knew I should reject the thought of being pretty, but 
I found myself taking pride in it instead.  I leaned closer, drawn to her
so full lips like the most powerful of magnets.  My own lips, themselves 
feeling puffy and full, caressed hers with the gentlest of touches.  Her
eyes sagged closed as she leaned into me, her own hand capturing my thick
mane even as my hands began a sightless exploration of the strange yet 
familiar shape of her slender form.  

     At some point we slid off into the water of the lagoon, and I found 
out how wonderful love can be when the demands of weight are banished.  It 
turns out mermaids need not be celibate.  The arrangements are . . . 
unique, but nonetheless effective for all that.  I was pleased that some
of the port women had taken the time to show me how to be pleasing even 
aside from my own needs.  And then pleasured as Aegina showed me that she
knew tricks no mortal woman could imagine.  And for which I was not 
equipped until I had come to the tranquil lagoon.

     When we woke the next morning, I found good news and bad news.  The
good news was that the various scratches and scrapes I had suffered while
dragging myself over the island obstacles had all healed to flawless 
perfection.  The bad news was that my hands were soft and as smooth as 
their gloved appearance would suggest.  That meant I had no hope of 
building toughened calluses and would face new blisters every day of 
my task.  Still, I faced it resolutely.  

     Eventually, the palm trees were felled.  I planned on three, lashed 
together for my raft.  On breaks from the construction I swam out to the 
reef and determined the course for my escape, planning on rowing through 
a narrow area of backflow until clear of the main currents.  I remembered 
another island, not visible through the gap in the cliffs around the 
lagoon, but close enough to reach while rowing.  Once in human form, with 
real legs, I could quickly fabricate mast and sails to continue my 
journey.  All in all, the plan was feasible.  

     Though not easy, for the felling of the palms was only the first of
many tasks.  I had to weave fibers of grass together to make lashings to 
control the three trunks, and make oars, and make a dozen other things 
that would be necessary for my escape.

     Time passed.  I'm not sure how much, exactly.  It was many days, then 
many months.  With that awareness of the stars that I had gained from 
years at sea, I knew I had been on the island at least a year and a half 
when the raft was completed.

     And stuck on the island. 

     Without legs, I had no leverage to push it into the water.  My tail
was quite strong, but I could put no load on the flukes.  A single attempt
provided pain but no progress.  So, I had to squat in the sand, digging a
hole to hold my doubled tail, and push a heartbreakingly few inches at a 
time.  Aegina, even if she wanted to, could not help.  Leaving the water 
would have meant her death.  And so, I struggled alone to move the raft 
to the waters of the lagoon.

     "Celeste," Aegina called.

     "What?" I snapped in my frustration.

     "I think you had better come look at this," she said.  

     Something in her tone made me quite concerned, enough to leave off 
my pushing and wriggle around to the water.  It was not fear, at least, 
not fear for herself, but it was worry of some sort.  She was not in water
deep enough to require swimming, resting instead just where the bow of my
raft had reached the lagoon.

     "What's the matter?" 

     "Look at the trunk," she directed, pointing.

     At first, I didn't see any problem.  The palm trunk was still lashed
to each of it's neighbors, the bindings had not cut into the material with
any particular depth.  Then I saw her concern.

     The trunk of the palm tree was drinking up the water like a thick 
straw.  Already, it was clear that it had absorbed a heavy load of 
moisture to a point several feet from the waterline.  Even as we watched, 
more of the trunk became saturated, softening to the consistency of the
weed that drifted along the bottom of the lagoon.  Which was obviously 
where my waterlogged raft would end up.  

     For the first time since I had been a child, I collapsed into 
helpless tears.  Aegina put her arms around me, and cuddled me to her
bosom like the child I was acting, and I gave into my helplessness with
wails of distress beyond words.  She drew me out into deeper water where
we could float in timeless oblivion, cradled by the water that supported
us even as it imprisoned us.  

     Eventually, even the grief of shattered dreams comes to an end.  Of 
course, Aegina helped.  More than words could express.  She took care of 
me while I sulked in the subsequent depression, and never failed to hug me 
when I needed it, even when I didn't know that I needed and wasn't 
particularly huggable.  When I began to show signs of life again, 
specifically the first time I responded to her offer of intimacy instead 
of rejecting it (and her, forgive me) she brought me a present from 
somewhere in the treasure trove.  It was a small golden harp, with strings 
that seemed impervious to water.

     "I can't play this," I said, not angry, just . . . helpless.

     "You said you couldn't swim, too," she reminded me.

     "Well, yes, but that was part of the magic," I countered.
    
     Aegina just smiled.

     "Why you sneaky, beautiful, lovable, scamp," I laughed.  "Is that 
a part of what you gave me, too?"

     "Let's find out," she offered, then started trilling a pure, sweet
melody in her silver-toned voice.  I joined in, tentatively at first, 
but when I realized I could make tones that fit well with hers, I put
more of myself into it.  

     If I do have to say so myself, my voice was at least as good as hers.
Perhaps the notes weren't quite as pure, but the added tones created depth
as well, and a richness that even my ears could tell was wonderfully sweet.

     Aegina pointed at the harp, and even as we sang, I plucked a few 
quiet sounds from it.  Once I learned its capabilities, I began to strum
an accompaniment to our song that danced a light-hearted counterpoint 
around the melody, not obscuring it with competition but fulfilling it.

     After that, song replaced building a raft as my obsession.  I don't
know exactly why.  Perhaps it was overcompensation, but our routine 
settled into a life of leisure, at least for me.  Yet Aegina never 
complained as she prepared our meals, which was about the only recurring
chore we faced.  

     Every now and then, perhaps as the result of a distant storm, flotsam
and jetsam would enter our lagoon.  Sometimes they were trunks of clothes,
and we played dress-up.  Or, Aegina did.  My own tinted skin seemed 
clothing enough, but the natural look of Aegina's bosom lended itself to
occasional enhancement.  It was only occasionally, though, since most 
fabrics don't look at all good when soaked in the water, unlike our 
magically-wavy hair.  We also found additional treasure to add to our
worthless trove, collected more to keep our lagoon uncluttered than from
any sense of value.  Wood and steel would rot or rust, but the purity of
jewelry endured.  

     We sometimes did find jewelry to wear, though.  I had found a pair of
emerald earrings that complemented my own colors very nicely, while Aegina
had found an elegant diamond choker that made her neck look particularly 
delicate.  Sometimes we would wear rings or bracelets or whatever else 
took our fancy, casually draping items worth the wealth of a kingdom about
ourselves, before just as casually dropping them back.  

     "Celeste," Aegina asked, "do you like it here?"

     "Of course, Gina," I assured her.  Even as I said it, I realized it 
was true, or at least true enough.  I often missed the world outside our 
lagoon, but other than occasional boredom, I would have to admit that our
little world was as near paradise as I was ever likely to see.

     "Would you leave if you could?" Aegina continued.

     "Surely, wouldn't you?" I asked in turn.  "I mean, it's wonderful here,
but there are so many things in the world that we are missing."

     "Like what?" 

     "Well, like, um, wine," I said with a laugh, thinking back to my 
life from so long ago.  "And, uh, bread.  And a thick, juicy steak, 
roasted to a turn, and  . . . "

     I ran down as I remembered the perfection of joining with a woman.  
I wouldn't have said anything.  Aegina was dearer to me than any hundred
women of the outer world, but I did sometimes miss that special connection
that she and I could never share.  She must have seen something in my 
expression, though, for she turned away to busy herself needlessly 
rearranging the scattered treasure.  

     Perhaps, in retrospect, I should have done something to confirm my
love for her, but at the time it seemed unimportant.  After all, neither
of us was going anywhere.

     Sometimes we would find dated items in the intruding materials.  In
this way, I knew though did not particularly care that over a hundred years 
had passed since my imprisonment when Aegina shook me awake one morning.

     "Something's coming," she said urgently.

     "What?" I asked, instantly alert.  We were immune to most sea 
dangers.  Even the bite of a shark would eventually heal without scar,
and we could swim well enough to avoid any attacks unless cornered.
The two of us, with a little help from some of whatever we could grab
in our nimble hands, could even drive away a shark in short order.  Still, 
it hurt when we were injured, and we much preferred to head off an 
attacker rather than be surprised.

     "I don't know," Aegina interrupted my thoughts with a surprising 
revelation.  She ordered me, "Listen."

     I had been given, whether I wanted them or not, many years to learn
the sounds of the sea and quickly filtered out the expected ones.  What
was left had a rhythmic thud, accompanied by a quick, repetitious slap 
that was beyond my experience as well.  The sound was obviously coming 
from the gap in our rock wall, and obviously approaching.  Motioning her
to pick up a slender knife she had often used, I found one of my own and
we swam quickly but silently to the barrier reef at the entrance to the
lagoon.  A quick hand signal held her in her place, and I drifted upward
to see if the noise had a visible source.

      I saw a most strange, yet familiar sight.  A ship was approaching, 
still hull down from my vantage a few inches above the water, yet 
unmistakable.  It was not a ship like I had ever seen, though.  In place 
of a spread of canvas, she looked to be on fire, with a great cloud of 
smoke spreading out across the otherwise pristine sky.  Yet, the fire 
was obviously not a threat, for the smoke emitted from a tall stack
clearly designed for the purpose of carrying it away.  

     And even without sails, the ship made good progress toward us.  As 
she approached, I could see that the splashing sound was caused by a 
series of slaps at the water by wheels on each side, pushing the ship 
along.  I had heard of steam engines when I was still part of the outside 
world, but only as an unreliable oddity.  To think that they had become 
compact enough to use at sea was as unexpected as the thought of, well, 
flying or something.  Yet, undeniably, a ship was headed our way.  

      As she got closer, I could see she was a small ship, not much if any
bigger than the old Celeste.  Yet she made good speed through the water.  
Still, it would be some hours before she got close to our lagoon.  I 
drifted back down to Aegina's side and explained what I had seen.

     "What should we do?" she asked.

     "I don't know," I admitted.  "I suppose we should wait and see what
happens.  I don't expect she will be able to get past the reef in any
event."

     Aegina nodded in satisfaction and relief, and we went to eat a bit
of breakfast while we waited.  Every now and then, one or the other of 
us would pop up to check the status of the approaching vessel, always to
find her holding a steady course.  

     In a strange but not surprising parody of my own arrival, so many
years before, the ship halted a league or so at sea, then commenced a 
more cautious approach.  Again, like the Celeste, she was caught by the
swift current.  However, at the first sign of distress, the side paddles
started a furious churning.  After a short while it was clear that they
were actually able to hold the ship against the current.  With that 
assurance, the ship allowed herself to approach more closely, always 
holding herself steady and under control.  

     When she got close enough we could see her underwater shape, I 
noticed another strange deviation from my own experience.  This ship
had no real keel.  She would drift downwind in any serious breeze so
badly I didn't know if she could make any headway at all to windward.
But then I realized with her smoke-belching, noisy steam engine she
didn't need to counter the pressure of sails.  Without a keel, though,
her draft was shallow enough she might actually make it past the reef,
if she picked the right spot.  

     "Should we guide it in," asked Aegina.

     "Not unless you really want to," I said.  "She might still founder 
on the rocks, and I'd hate to lead them to someplace beyond her 
capabilities."

     Aegina just nodded, watching with me under the water as the ship moved 
slowly forward despite the ever increasing fury of her slapping paddles.  
In a quite seaman-like dance, whoever was guiding the small ship eased her
sideways to a clear point in the reef, and for the first time in a century
we had a visitor.  The ship was aptly named the Mystery, a fair statement
of it's pending impact on our lives.

     I found myself strangely irritated when the ship's anchor disturbed a
delicate coral growth I had often admired.  Despite my feeling that this 
lagoon was a prison, it was still *my* prison and I hated to see needless
damage.  Still, there was some compensation in that the pounding clamor of
the ship's engine stopped.  As the squawks of disturbed birds faded, we 
watched first from underwater, then from behind a sheltering boulder for 
any sight of our unknown intruder.  

     A single man appeared.  He looked tall, to me.  And very trim.  For
the first time in a very long time, I felt myself envying a beard for his
was full though neatly trimmed.  It obscured his face enough that I 
couldn't get much of a feeling for his age, but it was immediately clear
he had plenty of youthful vigor.  He lowered a small boat and entered it
easily, then began rowing briskly toward shore.  Once there, he pulled out
a much-folded map and looked around with obvious satisfaction.

     "What should we do?" Aegina asked again.

     "I don't know," I admitted again.  

     "Could you get on board his boat?" she asked.

     "Probably, but what would I do after I get onboard?  If he found me 
crawling on the deck I'd be helpless.  At least in the water we could 
defend ourselves."

     "Do you think he will attack us?" 

     I shrugged, "Who knows?  But if we hide, we won't have to take the 
chance."

     "Just hide, after not seeing anyone knew for so long?" she said, not
believing it.  Then, before I could respond, her eyes got a dreamy look as
she said, "and a man."

     "So what?" I asked.

     "Oh, nothing," she said, too casually.  But we had been together too 
long for me to miss the obvious signs of her arousal.  Actually, I'd have
recognized them even without knowing her.  The signs were obvious as soon
as I looked.  

     I sighed and said, "Well, if we're going to introduce ourselves, you
need to go get a top.  Get one of the long shawls that you like so much, 
and I'll help you wrap it around yourself."

     "You'll help?" she said in surprise.

     "Yes, of course," I said, though in my heart I knew I didn't want to,
not at all.

     She was off in a flash, returning from one of our storage caves with
a bit of pale silk that I had, to my present sorrow, told her matched her
eyes just perfectly.  We made a sort of harness for her that would at 
least provide a bit of modesty, though the transition of skin to scales 
took place so low on her hips that it was positively scandalous.  

     "How do we approach him?" she asked breathlessly.  

     "Oh, I don't know," I answered, a bit of irritation in my tone.  
What did she think was going to happen, anyway?

     We lifted our heads above the water again, spying on him.  He was 
walking up the beach away from us, looking at his map, and at the shore.
Cautioning her to silence, I led us to where his boat was pulled up on 
the beach.  I knew he'd be back there, and probably before too long.  It
was already near evening.  A tall boulder would conceal us on his return
until he was quite close, while a smaller one would support us with at 
least Aegina's tail still in the water.  

     The obscuring boulder kept him from our sight as well as keeping us
from his, but his return was heralded by the crunch of footsteps in the 
sand, a sound I had all but forgotten.  

     When I judged the time was right, I said softly, "Hello."

     His head snapped to our direction, first expecting some sort of 
attack from behind the boulder, apparently.  His recovery was amazingly
quick, however, and I found myself envying his self-control.  If I had
stumbled across two mermaids in my explorations, I think I'd have, well,
fainted or something.  His eyes widened, to be sure, but instead of shock
his face showed amused enjoyment.

     "Hello, yourself," he said, moving closer.  I could see he was a 
mature man, at least 35 years of age.  He still moved, though, with that 
youthful energy I had remembered from my own past so long ago.   I 
suppose as such things go, he was handsome.  Certainly his features were
unmarred by scars or other deformity.  I did find the sparkle in his eyes
to be curiously . . . interesting.  

     By my side, Aegina was showing signs of interest as well, though the
modesty of her scarf kept the most obvious ones hidden.  Still, her eyes
were almost glowing, and as we were out of the water and breathing 
normally, I could see her panting like some sort of animal.

     "Calm down," I whispered sharply, then smiled at our intruder.

     "What brings you to our island?" I asked pleasantly.  

     "Whatever it was, I have a much better reason for being here now," 
he said, prompting a silvery giggle from Aegina.

     It had been a long time since I had heard a rich, masculine voice like
that.  I was distracted by the sound, remembering things from so long ago I 
had forgotten that I even had the memory, until it was triggered.  My 
distraction kept me from responding immediately, a pause not shared by 
Aegina.  Nor by the stranger.

     "Who might you be?" he asked, his glance singling her out.

     "I am Aegina, and this is Celeste."  She performed our introductions.

     "And I am Samuel Jackson," he replied.  

     Then he turned back to me and said, "And in answer to your earlier 
question, I have a map purporting to identify the location for buried 
treasure.  The map had not been helpful, until now, but I think it was
worth every penny I paid."

     Aegina giggled again, responding just like a schoolgirl to his 
flattery.  Something in his eyes seemed almost dismissive toward her,
though, and he focused his attention on me.

     Reaching out, slowly but without concern, he touched one of my 
dangling emerald earrings, saying, "Though if you have a few more of 
these around, I might find a treasure to spend, as well as one to enjoy."

     "There are lots of things like this, in our cave," Aegina blurted 
out.

     "Indeed," he said, turning back to her with a new light in his eyes.

     "Surely, we can swim down and get you all you want," she promised.

     "Perhaps in the morning," I said, stalling her enthusiasm.  "It's
already getting dark, now."

     "But . . . " Aegina tried to protest, to be stilled by a sharp glance
from me, along with a cautioning hand.

     The man, Jackson, noticed the gesture but he just smiled and nodded.

     "Just as well," he said easily.  "I think I'm going to enjoy my time
on your island."

     I nodded, smiling politely.  I didn't know why I felt uneasy.  He was
a perfect gentleman, much more so than I would have been in the situation.
Yet, somehow I had a dark sense of foreboding about his arrival.  

     That pause once again to reflect on the situation left a void that 
both he and Aegina were only too ready to fill.  They filled it with 
mundane things, though, planning our evening meal.

     "With your permission," he said gallantly, "I would feel privileged 
to provide a fine wine, and perhaps some bread for the occasion.  
Unfortunately, I have no fresh meat, and only limited vegetables."

     "Oh, that's just fine," Aegina gushed.  "I can get the rest in just
a few minutes."  

     With that, she slipped from her perch and arrowed out into the 
lagoon, faster than any barracuda at snatching several fish for our meal.

     "So, my richly-colored lady, how is it that I find not one, but two
such beautiful creatures in such an out-of-the-way place?"

     For some reason I couldn't meet his eyes.  Instead, I dropped my own
gaze and found myself looking at his legs, remembering those I once had.
His hand once again reached out to my face, this time lightly lifting my
chin so that I would look at him.

     "Believe me, dear redhead, I mean you no harm."

     "Aegina may be harmed in ways you don't understand."

     "Aegina may be harmed?" he repeated.  "No thought for yourself?"

     "She is more delicate than I am," I declared.

     He nodded his head and said, "Yes, she is a fragile gem.  And very
beautiful.  But I have always favored a lusty wench, myself."

     "I am hardly a wench," I said.

     "No, but I'll lay odds you are lusty enough, for all your slender 
grace."

     If a blush were his objective, he obtained it.  For in truth it was 
more often I than Aegina who desired our sessions of love, and more often
she than I who was first to need a break.  We both enjoyed them, of 
course, but there was no doubt I found a greater need for them within 
myself, than she within her.  My blush wrote the realization of that 
truth on my face in a message so clear that our visitor laughed out loud.

     "Ha, I see that I am right."  

     "Come," he said, reaching to lift me in his arms, "I will carry you
above the high-water mark and then build a fire.  We can sit around and
tell each other of our lives as the sun sets."

     "No," I said sharply.  "Aegina cannot leave the water."

     "Only Aegina?" he asked.

     "Well, it is obvious that I am not comfortable on land, but only she 
will perish if she leaves the lagoon."

     "Ah, part of the magic of this place, no doubt.  Very well, I will 
build the fire over there, but we will sit here to eat."

     "It is not necessary to cook the fish that Aegina will bring.  She 
can prepare a most excellent meal without a fire."

     "Raw fish?  I think not," he said, shaking his head.  Then the amused
look returned and he said, "Though I can see how you might need to learn 
to do without a fire.  Thankfully, that will not be necessary tonight."

     He turned away to gather firewood.  Though the only sizable trees on 
the island were palms, at least those within any reasonable distance from 
the beach, there were shrubs and other woody growths that would support a
fire.  He took a small handaxe from his boat and moved inland, soon 
vanishing in the brush.  I sat alone for a long moment, trying to decide
what to do, when Aegina returned.

     "If you're just going to sit there, why don't you get your harp and 
play for us?" she suggested.

     To the extent such a concept had meaning in our idyllic existence, 
that was indeed my duty so I slipped of into the water and swam to the
golden harp.  When Jackson returned from the brush, carrying some actual
wood that must have come from real trees not visible from the beach, I was
playing softly, trying to get in the mood to sing.

     "Where did you find that?" I asked.

     "Oh, a few hundred yards inland.  You mean you didn't know?  There 
are any number of good trees just over a small ridge.  I could build a 
boat from that supply quite easily, though without an engine I'm not sure
I could get past the reef."

     A hundred years, wasted with lumber just out of sight.  The idea of
crawling several hundred yards, over rough terrain, then trying to drag 
the lumber back was daunting to say the least, but a hundred years!  I 
could have been free.

     Aegina realized it, too.  "Oh, Celeste, you could get away."

     "Get away?" Jackson asked before I had a chance to comment.

     "We are both held to this bay by the circumstances of our nature,"
I explained.  "Aegina cannot leave the waters of the lagoon, not even to
climb on a rock.  She must leave at least part of her tail immersed at 
all times.  I can leave the water, but I remain as you see me as long as
I am on the island, and I would drown if I were not a mermaid and tried
to swim away.  I once tried to build a boat, but the wood I could reach 
was not suitable."

     "But now you could," Aegina repeated, looking at me strangely.

     "Perhaps," I agreed, "but I wouldn't want to leave you."

     She nodded, but I could tell she was still distracted about
something.  

     Jackson got a good fire going, then made a trip back to his small 
ship to get a frying pan and a few utensils.  He took on the task of 
frying the fish while Aegina prepared a few simple vegetables harvested
from the seabed.  These he added to the cooking fish both for flavor and
as a simple way to complete our meal.  While they were busy, I played a 
wordless song of the sea whispering through the caves, using the sound of
my voice more as instrument than messenger for my story.  

     I let my song end when I saw their preparations were nearing 
completion.  Aegina gave me a quick smile, thanks and recognition, but
it was something we had done together many times, so it was not 
particularly noteworthy.  

     Or, at least not to us, though Jackson sat back on his heels when I
finished and said, "That was very, very beautiful.  Thank you."

     "It was nothing," I said as I laid the harp aside.

     "If I had heard that nothing on a lonely night at sea, I would have
come even without the promise of treasure," he claimed, bowing deeply.

     That earned him another blush, and a quick smile of my own.  A pause
settled in among us for a long moment, while his eyes looked at mine with 
a message I didn't understand.  

     Thankfully, Aegina broke the stillness with a laughing request, "Oh,
please hurry.  Celeste has told me so often of cooked food, that I am 
famished with just the thought.  Though it smells heavenly, too."

     Jackson delivered the pan with a flourish, scooping large helpings
on plates he had brought from the ship (saving us, though he didn't know
it, from going after the golden ones).  Aegina looked curiously at the 
fork he offered her, but I took up my own and speared the first bite of
cooked food I had enjoyed in a century.

     It was every bit as good as I remembered, and I let the hot juices
slide down my throat with sensual pleasure, moaning softly at the bliss.
Jackson noticed and suddenly turned away, hunching slightly.  

     "Goodness, Celeste, I didn't know you missed human food so much," 
Aegina said, that strange tone back in her voice.

     "Oh, Gina, you prepare delicious meals, but I do admit to liking
the taste, as a change.  Try it."

     She stuck her fork in the cooked food, bringing a bit to her tongue.
As soon as she touched it to her tongue, she recoiled.  "It's hot!"

     "Of course," I said with a laugh.  "Be careful, but it won't really
hurt you."

     She tried again, taking just a bit into her mouth.  You could see 
from her face that she expected to find the cooked fish dry and hard, like 
herbs left too long in the sun, but after the juices began to caress her 
own taste buds, her eyes lit up and she said, "Hey, this is good."

     "Thank you," Jackson said, then scooped up a large bite for himself.
Even he was impressed by the subtle flavoring imparted by Aegina's seabed
harvest.  For a few minutes after that, no one said anything as we all 
paid tribute to the joint success of the chefs in the most honest way. 

     Our silent appreciation was interrupted by Jackson, who said, "Oh,
I almost forgot."

     He walked over to the small boat and pulled out a couple of bottles
and three goblets.

     "Wine, praise God," I cried.

     "Indeed it is, my flame-crowned beauty," he replied.  "I'm afraid
I only had one bottle of white, but I brought a good red as well.  I 
don't think the fish will mind."

     "Nor will I," I promised.

     He quickly poured three glasses, then raised his, "To beauty beyond
compare, and the paradise of sharing it."

     I blushed as he said it, because he was clearly looking at me.  Then
I looked at Aegina to see if she had felt slighted, but she was too 
engrossed in sniffing at her wine to have noticed.  

     "So this is the wine stuff you're always talking about," she 
murmured. 

     I nodded, taking a first, tentative sip myself.

     Frankly, it wasn't as good as I remembered.  A part of me could 
remember what wine was supposed to taste like, and I could tell that this 
was a good white, crisp and clean, but something just didn't seem as 
desirable as it once had.  Aegina, when she tasted hers, was frankly 
disappointed, turning her nose up.

     "I don't see what makes that so special," she grumped.

     "Well, it is a bit of an acquired taste," Jackson admitted.  
"Perhaps you will find the red more to your liking."

     I took another sip while he rinsed out her goblet with some of the
red, actually pouring out a bit to make sure the new taste would be 
free of the dregs of the first.  Aegina took another tentative sip, and
frowned again.

     "Well, it's better, but . . . "

     "Doesn't it make you feel warm inside, though?" he asked.

     "Um, yes, I do believe so, now that you mention it," she agreed.

     She took another sip.  And then another.  "It does grow on you," 
she admitted.

     "Good," he said with a smile.  

     After that, we all relaxed together.  The wine helped, especially 
for Aegina.  By the time the moon was high, she was giggling at whatever
was said.  I found myself the target of ever-longer gazes from Jackson, 
though they didn't seem to make me as uncomfortable as they had earlier.
It must have been that our pleasant dinner had helped to show his truly
gentlemanly nature.

     The meal had long been ended, and the wine was nearly gone, when 
he climbed up beside us on our boulder and wrapped one arm around my
shoulders and the other about Aegina.

     "Ladies," he said expansively, "I think we need to go for a swim."

     "A swim?" I snorted.  "In your condition, you'd drown."

     "Ah, but you'll save me, won't you?" he said with a most sad pout,
which transformed in a heartbeat into a roguish grin.  With that, he 
simply fell off the rock into the water, taking us with him.

     Aegina's laugh was snuffed in mid giggle by the water, then recreated
with even greater humor underwater.  For myself, I was mildly irritated 
at having my last glass of wine ruined, but her giggles and his easy laugh
as he stood in shoulder deep water made it impossible to be cross.  In the
water, of course, our tails made us much more powerful than his almost-
floating legs, and we were able to dunk him under with ruthless glee.  

     Somewhere in the mock fight, Aegina's scarf came adrift and floated 
away, but no one was particularly concerned.  At least, not until Jackson
noticed.  Then he felt compelled to inspect the revealed bounty at a bit
closer range.  

     "Magnificent," he declared, "and if I can sill stay that, I need 
another bottle of wine."

     "Oh, and can you sill stay that?" I repeated, but he was too 
distracted to notice either his mistake, or my pointing it out.  

     It did focus his attention on me, though.  And with no real force 
yet inexorable determination, he wrapped me up in his arms.

     And then he kissed me.

     At first, I was unsure of his intention.  Though it was many, many
years ago, I had been with drunken sailors enough that I was not 
particularly surprised to have one wrap his arms around me.  The happy
drunks often did that, and it was apparent that Jackson was a happy drunk.
But a kiss was another level of intimacy all together.  I pulled back with
ingrained repugnance at the prohibited contact, liking neither the 
intimacy nor the feel of his beard.  It was wrong for a man, and such I 
was inside my head, to kiss another.  

     "Oh, so you're one of *those*", he said sadly.  "What a shame."

     Then he turned to Aegina and asked, "Are you one of *those*, too, my
pale jewel?"

     "One of what?" she asked innocently.  "I don't think so."

     "Let's find out," he offered, then took her into his arms.  Her own
response was not repugnance.  Quite the contrary.  I'd like to think that
she had found my own embraces, my own kisses equally pleasant, but I would
have been hard pressed to prove that she found them any *more* desirable.

     After a time long enough to make me wonder if she had somehow made it
possible for him to breathe underwater, too, he lifted his head to take a 
gasping breath, then said to me, "Sorry, my beautiful flame, but your loss
is Aegina's gain, and she seems to have no reservations."

     "Do you know how long it's been since I've been with a man," Aegina
was whispering in his ear.  

     "No," he said.

     "Too long," she declared with yet another giggle.  

     His response was yet another kiss, and a caress of the bounty 
revealed when the scarf came adrift.  Watching them was making me regret 
my so-proper refusal of his advances.  Watching them was making me regret 
it a lot.  Not that they noticed.  Nor cared.

     I felt myself being pushed away from their universe, though neither
touched me physically at all.  When I saw her hands begin to fumble with 
his clothes, I realized I couldn't stay any longer.  Turning away, I 
swam down to a deep cave and hid myself from their whispers, their moans,
all the sounds of their passion.  

     I don't suppose I slept much that night.  It certainly seemed long 
enough, as though each passing moment was written in my memory with not
one missed due to sleep.  When the current in the cave showed that the 
tide had turned, I swam back up to the surface, wondering what I would
find.  

     The first thing I did *not* find was the Mystery.  I could still 
smell a residual of her smelly exhaust, so I knew she had not been gone 
long, but gone she was.  I confess that I did not feel any remorse at 
the loss.  If I could, I would have stowed away on the ship but at the
cost of being with Jackson, and away from Aegina, the passage price would
have been too great.  

     Aegina was laying on the beach, her tail almost out of the water as 
the tide receded.  I hurried over and crawled up to her side, urging her 
to move down into the lagoon.  She seemed confused, which I put down to 
the residual effects of the wine, and I helped her down into deeper water.

     "What happened?" she said.

     "Jackson left, with the Mystery," I reported.

     "Jackson left?" she repeated with surprise, still confused.

     "Yes."

     "No!" she shouted.  "That witch."

     With that she broke from my embrace and started swimming toward the
exit from our lagoon at a pace so swift that try as I might, I could not
quite catch her.

     "Gina, no!  You can't go after him!" I called.

     "I have to.  She took my . . ."

     At that point, Aegina passed the reef.  Her body exploded without a 
sound into a shower of luminous sparks.  Their tiny momentum carried them
barely a yard before they lost all cohesiveness and began to dissipate 
among the swirling currents of the gap.  

     My own momentum carried me into the midst of the vanishing cloud, 
which was nearly as catastrophic for my own life.  In an instant, I 
transformed to human shape again, for the first time in over a hundred
years.

     And it was a very, very old shape I found myself wearing.  It was
not the body I remembered, sixteen years old and strong, it was the body
of an ancient man, one whose limbs had no strength, one whose heart had
no power.  

     Even my young body could not cope with the currents of the lagoon 
entrance, and the ancient form I found myself in had no chance at all.
Luckily, the currents still pulled me strongly into the beautiful trap
and I transformed once again as soon as I crossed the reef.  Safe in 
mermaid form, I called again and again to Aegina, hoping that my memory
of her dissipation was somehow flawed.

     But she never answered.  She never reappeared.  

     After several fruitless hours, I turned back to the lagoon to see 
if I could find some reason for her strange behavior.  The Aegina I had
lived with for so long, whom I had loved, would not have left me so alone.
I refused to believe that was possible.  

     I had taught her to read, using the scraps of readable material that 
arrived on the current, and scratching out letters in the wet sand behind 
the receding tide.  My own skills were hardly perfect, and rusty to boot, 
but I was sure I could have understood any message she left.

     That actually turned out to be the case, both that there would be a 
message, and that I would come to understand it.  That understanding took
a long time, though, longer than I think she expected.

     When I reached our beach I saw her diamond necklace dangling from a 
stick protruding from the sand.  It did not register with me at the time 
that it was a bit above the high-water mark and should have been out of 
her reach, because the need for the message to stay dry was so obvious.  
There was a note held down by a rock at the base of the stick.  I crawled 
up to where I could reach it, carefully shaking my hands dry before 
touching the paper.

     "Der Slest,
      I dint no it wood happin like this.  It dint happin like this with
      Zuse, but mebbe thats because hes a god.  Wen I woke up and figgered
      what had happind, I new I had to git away.  If I stayed, he could
      have recked the boat or sumthin, and I figgered youd make me switch
      back.  And if I had to stay, I new you woodint leave.  But now, 
      you can get away, to.  It will take you a wile to bild a boat, but
      you know where to git the wood.  I no you don't hold with men bein
      together, so I don't expect yule want to find me after you escape
      yourself, but if you do, Ill be in that port in Barbados you toled
      me about, on the first day of Spring, every year that I can.

      I love you, and I always will,
      Aegina

     My resolution not to get the paper wet fell to the drops of my tears
as I read and reread the note.  It would have been a good plan, and maybe
even a necessary one.  I would never have left her alone on the island.
And I should have been able to escape myself, now that I knew where to 
find usable wood.

     But now I also knew that if I left the lagoon I would transform into
a man of my calendar age, no matter how little of it that body had lived.
I would be, as best I could figure, 124 years old the moment I crossed
the reef.  

     I was sitting there in the sand when another thought occurred to me.
Or, at least a question.  What had happened to Aegina, and to Jackson?  
And how had it happened?  Aegina was ages and ages older than me, and 
apparently she had managed to survive her own transition, so whatever had
happened must not have resulted in her aging as I had.  

     I thought I understood what she did, what they did after I had left
them the night before.  Certainly their intentions were obvious.  And if 
so, maybe that portion of herself that she had merged with me to save my 
life, so long ago, maybe that portion would allow me to use her own 
solution as well.  

**************

     And so I sing my song into the lonely night and the empty days, 
hoping that someone will hear.  It has been at least 250 years since I 
first came to the island, yet still I sing, still I dream, still I hope - 
hope that someone will brave the reef and come to me.

     Come, come to me!
     Come and share my melody.
     Come and see what love can be!
     Share the magic of a mermaid's passion.
     Come take my love in any fashion.
     Let me take your essence into me,
     And return my inner self to thee.
     Come and sing my song for me.
     Come, sing my song and set me free.