Sea Foam and Silence Read online

My sister looks at me and I cannot read her at all.

  I want my sisters.

  “I want to go home.”

  “We should sink their moving land first.

  Your sisters are far away and we

  Need the nourishment.”

  “No!”

  I pull away from her and swim.

  Fast as I can, far as I can.

  Away from her. Away from that.

  But she follows.

  I do not get far

  Before my sister catches up to me.

  “Why did you try to save the tall-crab?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Yes, you do.”

  That startles me.

  Startles me enough to stop swimming.

  To turn and face my sister.

  “I do not.”

  “You think tall-crabs are like us.”

  I don’t — I do — I don’t know what to think.

  “Maybe. They must be. Can they?”

  I don’t know.

  I do not know.

  I am agitated.

  The water stirs around me,

  And I make myself very still.

  My sister looks at me.

  She looks at me with sad eyes.

  “Do you want to know?” she asks.

  “Do you want to know if tall-crabs are like us?”

  Yes.

  No.

  Maybe.

  Yes.

  “I want to know why the moving land scares me.”

  That is what I say.

  My sister does not answer.

  “There is a Witch,” she says.

  “I’ve never found her.

  But my sisters told stories.

  There is a Witch,

  Who can answer any question,

  Make any wish come true.”

  “I want to go back to my sisters.”

  But the thought makes me curious.

  A little.

  If this Witch could answer my questions,

  I can go home to my sisters

  And share what I’ve learned.

  “Do you?” my sister asks,

  Pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Yes.”

  “Then we part.”

  I do not mind.

  I’m not sure I like her anyway.

  We swim in schools and live in groups.

  I only left because I wanted to catch tall-crabs.

  I only followed because the hunting was good.

  I would leave now,

  But my sister has already gone.

  I cannot tell which way she has gone

  And her departure leaves me alone

  With my thoughts.

  How do I find my sisters?

  How do I find a Witch who would know

  Where to find my sisters?

  Who can tell me what I want to know

  About tall-crabs.

  For a long time, I stay where I am.

  Because I do not know where to go,

  I go in whichever direction I want

  And I try not to worry about whether or not

  I have made the correct decision.

  There probably is no correct decision.

  The sea is like that.

  I should have stayed with my sisters.

  I should have stayed in familiar waters.

  I should not have left.

  I should have stayed.

  But I did not.

  I left.

  I have found the tall-crabs.

  I have caught my tall-crab.

  I have seen the moving land struck by the weather.

  I have hunted a tall-crab on my own.

  I have learned so much about them.

  I do not think my sisters will want to hear,

  But I know it.

  I know.

  I should never have left them,

  Not even for that.

  I have lost track of the days.

  I don’t know how long it is

  Before I find something familiar.

  It’s the temperature that I notice first.

  It becomes familiar.

  There is a warmth and a pressure to the water

  That changes.

  I do not believe it at first.

  Why would I?

  Slowly, though, the waters change

  And I start to recognise the shapes

  Around me.

  I know for certain

  When I spot my sisters.

  I call out to them.

  My sisters. Oh, my sisters.

  I have missed them.

  They have missed me too,

  Which, somehow, surprises me.

  We dart around each other in play,

  Throwing bubbles at one another.

  They ask me where I have been.

  How can I explain?

  My sisters who would never leave their school.

  How could I make them understand?

  I try anyway.

  I do not tell them everything.

  I tell them about being lonely.

  I tell them about wanting to be with them.

  I tell them about hunting tall-crabs on my own.

  I tell them about the still land and how close I got.

  I do not tell them about the seals.

  Nor about the tall-crabs capturing me.

  I do not tell them my thoughts.

  I am with my sisters now,

  But the thoughts do not leave.

  Life with my sisters is… different.

  They look upon me as… I don’t know.

  I do not know how to describe them.

  I am no longer the pup I once was

  And they know it.

  But I am also no longer myself

  And they do not know what to make of it.

  I do not know either.

  When my sisters hunt, they ask me to come now.

  It is all that I ever thought I wanted

  And I find that it makes my stomach uneasy.

  When the storms come, my sisters ask me to hunt.

  And I find the thought so terrifying that I dive

  Deeper.

  I am not who I once was

  And I cannot understand who I am now.

  I do not sleep.

  Tall-crabs are in my sleep.

  There are days when I wish to join my sisters,

  To hunt tall-crabs and eat them, scatter their flesh.

  I never do.

  Those thoughts are always followed by others.

  I cannot believe that tall-crabs are mindless.

  I wish I could have talked to one.

  I wish I had never seen one.

  I do not know what to think

  Or when to think or who to speak to.

  So I think everything at once and nothing at all.

  I am agitated and snappish.

  I do not eat.

  There is nothing I wish to eat.

  I thought I wanted my sisters,

  I thought I wanted to go home,

  But I am not so sure now.

  Everything is different.

  Even with my sisters beside me,

  I am alone.

  It is a long time

  Before I am settled again.

  My sisters are content with each other.

  They bring me food and sometimes I eat it.

  They ask me to come with them and I do not agree.

  I am their little sister still.

  It takes a long time

  Before I feel like their little sister again.

  Before I come with them to the surface.

  Before I join them on their hunt.

  The sea is calm.

  We will summon a storm

  If we can find moving land.

  I am grateful for it,

  For I am still afraid of storms.

  My sisters do not understand

  Why this matters to me.

  In truth, they do not understand me,r />
  But neither do I.

  Still, my sisters try to bend around me,

  To flow with my needs and that has helped.

  It restores a sense of calm and quiet.

  I did not know I had been missing it.

  Since my return, my sisters have offered

  To take me with them, asked me to come.

  They are content with whatever I answer.

  They are content with all I do.

  It is both soothing and frustrating.

  We do not try to talk.

  I have nothing to say

  That my sisters would understand.

  We play, sometimes.

  More often as time passes and I find bits

  Of myself again.

  I hadn’t even known they were missing.

  But now, here, we are all of us together.

  All our sisters, searching for tall-crabs,

  Looking for the moving land.

  It takes us most of the morning,

  But we do finally manage it.

  My sisters rejoice and we play a game

  Before we decide on who shall summon the storm.

  It shall be my task to catch a tall-crab.

  I will not be alone, which

  Smooths the beating of my heart.

  I will not be alone.

  No net will capture me.

  I tell myself that tall-crabs are nothing,

  That they are simply food that moves.

  I remember the tall-crab I carried.

  I remember the tall-crab that fed me.

  I remember the tall-crab that caught, then freed me.

  And I put those thoughts aside.

  They are the thoughts of a foolish creature.

  I will show my sisters that I am strong.

  I will catch a tall-crab

  And another

  And another.

  I will drag them to the depths

  And give my sisters a feast.

  On my own.

  When the storm rages above us,

  All we have to do is capture our prey.

  I think I recognise my first tall-crab.

  I flee to the depths of the ocean.

  Why have I fled my sisters?

  I do not understand.

  I found a tall-crab in the water.

  It did not move and its blood tanged the water.

  That is all.

  Tall-crabs look as alike as dolphins.

  There are differences, but you rarely notice them.

  Except…

  When I first saw those tall-crab eyes

  There was intelligence in them.

  That tall-crab was like me, like my sisters.

  And now it no longer is.

  It’s frightened me.

  It should not have, but it did.

  The ocean is long calm

  When I return to my sisters.

  There is no playing in me now,

  Only solemnity.

  I cannot stay here.

  Something inside of me is broken.

  I leave as soon as my sisters are asleep.

  I do not know how to explain,

  And so I vanish much like I did the first time.

  This time I will not seek out the tall-crabs.

  This time, I will seek out the Witch.

  There are stories about the Witch,

  Snatches you only catch when you are half-asleep.

  No one dares speak of the Witch,

  But when they do it is with promise and hope.

  When they do, something terrible has happened.

  The Witch can cure anything, comprehend anything.

  I should have thought to look for her sooner.

  Surely, if she knows all, she could tell me

  What she knows about tall-crabs.

  She is harder to find than tall-crabs, much harder.

  You can only find the Witch in times of great need.

  My need is not great, not to anyone but me,

  And perhaps it is no surprise

  That I do not find the Witch.

  I do not eat either. I try a few plants,

  Because I must eat something and they do not move,

  But I do not like them.

  I keep searching. I do not know what else to do.

  I do not know who else can help me.

  Who would understand what is wrong with me?

  I keep searching.

  I don’t know what else to do.

  In time, I am no longer alone.

  I am joined by my sister.

  She seems familiar,

  But I cannot place her.

  We hunt together.

  We eat together.

  We sleep together.

  We do not speak.

  Not until I am strong again.

  “You are alone,” she says

  And it is true-not-true because of her.

  I do not reply.

  What would I say?

  “Something troubles you,” she says

  And I agree because it does.

  I want to go home to my sisters.

  I want to know what is wrong with me.

  Dare I tell her? Perhaps,

  Alone, she may understand.

  Slowly, she teases my feelings out of me.

  We hunt and she asks.

  We play and she asks.

  We eat and she asks.

  Every time I share a little more.

  Every time she learns a little more.

  She talks about the still land

  As if she knows it.

  I am jealous of that.

  I think I am jealous.

  How does she know so much?

  I miss my sisters.

  I do, but.

  I do not want to leave.

  I soak up these stories,

  Let them sink into my marrow,

  And I think I would miss them more.

  We are watching the moving land.

  The sun is sinking behind it

  And the tall-crabs’ noises of revelry reach us

  Even so far away.

  On the moving land I have seen a familiar face.

  I thought it lost to the seas,

  But I am glad it is not so.

  “Do you?” my sister asks

  And she does not need to say more.

  I do. Oh, I do.

  I am scared, terrified,

  But my answers lie here.

  My answers lie with the tall-crabs.

  I think so. It cannot be worse

  Than this.

  The Witch is beside me,

  Has been beside me before.

  I did not see. I see it now.

  “There will be pain,” the Witch says,

  And there is sadness in her voice.

  There is pain here, and loneliness.

  “There will be hardship,” the Witch says,

  And there is stone in her voice.

  There is hardship here, and rocks.

  “There may be love,” the Witch says,

  And I am not sure what she means.

  “If you cannot find love within a year,

  You will turn to sea foam.

  “You will know their tongue,

  But you cannot utter it.

  You will move with the grace of the sea,

  But you will never be able to go back.

  I can make you human, little one,

  But you will never be able to return to the deep

  Or see your sisters again.”

  I cannot see my sisters now.

  How hard can it be to find love?

  The Witch does not answer.

  What does she want? Why sea foam?

  She wants to help and she does not know.

  The Witch comes to us in times of great need.

  I wonder what about my need is so great,

  But I do not question.

  One does not refuse the Witch’s gifts

  Without consequence.


  “Well?” the Witch asks, kindly.

  I will meet tall-crabs.

  There is no time for more than that.

  It has been a long time

  Since I have seen the sea.

  Perhaps it feels longer than it was.

  It is a life of dreams and shadows I remember.

  Do I remember?

  A year.

  A year in which to find love.

  It seemed so little, so easy.

  Now it just seems hard.

  If my prince is right, I have a month.

  One month left to find love.

  I still do not even know what I am looking for.

  Was I truly a mermaid once?

  I cannot remember.

  I would ask, but

  Even with my hands I lack the words.

  My prince has hired tutors for me.

  He wishes for me to learn how to write.

  I can read, a little, if the hand is steady,

  But his tutors have despaired of my own.

  I prefer to talk with my hands. ^_^

  To let my body speak.

  It is easier. If one listens.

  I do not think my prince finds it easy to listen,

  Not unless I dance.

  Not unless my whole body sings.

  I enjoy that too. So much.

  It tears my feet to shreds, dancing.

  My prince hates that.

  When I first walked on land,

  He insisted someone carry me everywhere.

  I was too precious, too… How do I say it?

  My prince was worried for me.

  He has given up worrying about my feet.

  He has had to. I have not given him a choice.

  I would walk, any chance I had,

  And when I discovered dancing…

  I felt at home.

  I would not give up dancing for anything.

  I would rather become sea foam.

  I always take a stroll

  Through the gardens.

  They are in bloom now

  And their scent no longer overwhelms me.

  Sometimes my prince joins me.

  He says he likes the quiet.

  We sit in the shade of an old oak tree.

  Its leaves shiver in the wind

  And they sound like waves.

  “I want to see the ocean,”

  I say. My prince frowns

  And I repeat myself more slowly.

  Sometimes I forget how difficult

  My speech is for him to follow.

  He looks at me for a long time

  With that frown that I have come to understand

  Means ‘Are you sure?’ or ‘I think it’s a bad idea’.

  But then he smiles, a little sadly perhaps,

  And says it shall be my anniversary present.

  “We shall sail, my little mermaid,”

  He says. “It will be arranged.

  We leave within the week.”

  I would thank my prince,

  But I am too enthusiastic

  And have already thrown my arms around him.

  It is a fitting gift, is it not?

  They found me in the sea,

  Half-drowned and naked,

  With no memory of which country I was from,