Popshot Magazine – August 2019

“Very well.”
“But you’ll come back?”
She tossed her head.
“I don’t see why. But, if you wish, I’ll try to sometime. Just remember to stay away
from drink. Oh, and jellyfish. I know that from experience.”
Then she ducked under the water and swam away.
A few days later I changed back. It was evening and starlight sprinkled the black
sky. Hannah always left me dry clothes by the bank and this time it was a peculiar
concoction that made me look like Peter Pan.
The house was quiet, but a light flickered in the living-room where Grandma was
watching T V. And I wondered if she’d been sitting up for me. If she worried about
me during my absences.
“So you’re back,” she said and turned to look at me. “You’ve seen her, then?”
I knew who she meant.
“Yes.” Grandma snorted.
“And how was she?”
“She was...” What could I say? Selfish? Charming? Thoughtless? Beautiful?
She gave a dry laugh, as if she’d read my thoughts.
“She always was.”
I left her there and went up to the bedroom I shared with Hannah. She was asleep,
moonlight touching her freckled face. Her Anderson’s Fairy Tales was face down on
the table and, turning it over, I saw it displayed ‘The Little Mermaid.’ She stirred and
her eyes blearily opened.
“You know this isn’t a fairy-tale,” I said.
“Then what is it?” she asked, her voice croaky. “What’s it like? You never tell me.”
“It’s...” Her eyes watched me, waiting. How could I begin to explain? It was pain,
it was fear, it was loneliness. Yet, in the past few days, it had become something else
as well. It was the power of breathing underwater. It was moments of pure freedom.
Freedom from the constraints of being human, being a girl, being young. It was... I
slammed the book shut.
“Fucked up,” I said, and smiled.