The Little Mer-Betty, Part 1

Nantucket Sound, Just off Nantucket Island, Massachusetts, late August 1906

Beneath the rolling waves of the Atlantic Ocean lay a whole world that no human had ever seen. Fish knew this world, fleeing here the moment they escaped a human's net. Whales knew it, too. Even sharks were welcome, if they kept their feeding frenzy to a minimum. It was a world where sea quartz glittered, rocks glowed softly, seaweed drifted lazily, and flowers blossomed in brilliant hues that could never be possible on land.

It was the world of the merfolk. They were spectral beings, half-fish, half-mammal, who lived in grand cities deep beneath the waves. They were the protectors of the sea, keeping watch over its fish and other animals, and making sure its plants and reefs were well-cared for.

Most of the creatures who lived under the Nantucket Sound were content with their life. There were new schools of fish to count, whales to race, nets cast by fishermen to dodge, and rock formations and ancient wrecks to explore. One mermaid, however, felt differently. She'd always been fascinated by the world above her.

“Tell me about the humans, Grandmother Gertrude,” Betty asked yet again, pulling her reddish-gold tail up by her beloved relative. Betty, the eldest daughter of King MacKinley (or Mackie, if you preferred), was also considered to be one of the loveliest mermaids in the Mid-Atlantic. Her tail glowed with burnished red scales. Her deep brown eyes and soft pink cheeks were framed by masses of flowing chestnut curls. She wore flowers around her pale breast and stomach, like all young mermaids.

Gertrude laughed, pushing the mermaid's hair back from her eyes with a delicate pink flower. “I've already told you what I know a hundred times, my little Betty.”

“Tell me again, Grandmother. I do love to hear about them.”

Her grandmother sighed. She couldn't understand her granddaughter's obsession with the land-dwellers. It was...unseemly...for a mermaid. “All right. Humans don't have fins like we do, nor can they breathe in the water for long. They travel on things called legs, riding strange four-legged whales they call horses, or riding in very large floating pieces of driftwood called ships. Their homes are made from driftwood rather than rock or glass, and are usually smaller than our grand cities. Their legs move on green plants called grass. It's a bit like seaweed, but it doesn't move about as much. They sink their toes into soft golden sand, and watch fish that sing amid tall, waving plants called trees.”

Betty picked another flower from below her rock and twirled it around in her fingers. “They have flowers that smell beautiful, and whirl around and make motions called 'dancing.' Oh, how I wish I could dance!” She playfully grabbed her grandmother's arms and whirled her around and around in the water.

“Betty!” Gertrude couldn't help her laughter. “Enough! This old tail isn't up for such spinning around. You're making me feel like a whirlpool.”

Betty gave her grandmother a kiss on the cheek. “Oh please, Grandmother Gertrude. You're not that old. You're only 369.”

“370 last birthday.” Gertrude settled back down on the rock. “And speaking of birthdays, I know someone....”

“Oh, yes!” Betty grinned. “Let's go see Father. I can't wait for my surprise. Is it a new fish spike quill for writing stories? Or a book taken from one of the wrecks? Or a dolphin to sing with me? Or....”

Gertie laughed. “My goodness, child! Why don't we move along to the main hall and find out?”

The main hall was where the King and his family met for all royal events, from concerts to birthday parties. Unlike her older brother Jeffrey, who loved parties and being the center of attention, Betty had asked for a small family party. She'd rather be with her father and grandmother and brothers and sister than all the merfolk and fish and whales in the Kingdom of Nantucket Sound.

“Surprise!” Betty gasped with delight when she entered the main hall. It had been decorated with garlands of the brilliant flowers she so loved. Glittering gems lit ever crevice. Her favorite foods – clams, sea lettuces, and lobster – had been set out.

Best of all, her whole family was there. “Happy birthday, my little angel fish.” Her father Mackie gave her a kiss. Despite his small stature and graying hair and mustache, he was the defacto King of the Atlantic, and much-loved among his family and his subjects for his fair judgment and laid-back nature.

“Yeah, sis,” added Jeff, his flowing deep-brown curls framing his chiseled features. “I wanted to give you the first present.” He handed her a seashell. It opened to reveal a sharp quill and a green glass bottle.

“A new fish-scale pen and never-run squid ink!” She hugged her brother. “Thank you, Jeff! I'm almost out of ink.”

“What about us?” She laughed as Christopher and Douglas, her two younger brothers, jostled for position. Doug was plump and sweet-looking, with wide, gentle eyes and their father's laid-back manner. His dark gold hair flowed around his broad shoulders and chest.

“Doug, let me give it to her!” Christopher, or C.J as his family called him, took the seashell. He was the family fixer who always knew how everything ran...and how to put it back together when it was broken. He had long, straight chestnut hair that framed dour, dark eyes and was more slender, like Jeff. He held the seashell out to Betty. “Here you go, big sister.”

The seashell opened through a series of quartz hinges to finally reveal a large oyster pearl on a golden necklace. “I found the pearl when I was helping the food collectors pick up oysters the other day,” C.J explained. “It was so pretty, I thought it would look great on you.”

“I found the necklace by one of the wrecks,” Doug added. “Here, let me put it on you.” He undid the clasp and hung it around his sister's slender neck. “You look so beautiful, Betty. I wish Mom could have seen you.”

“So do I.” Mackie squeezed her hand. “She would have been proud of you. You're such a smart mergirl, and one of the best writers under the Atlantic.”

“Oh, please allow me to give my gift next!” Betty giggled as her youngest sibling hurried over. Enid was small and plump, with a pearly pale blue tail, sweet guileless blue eyes, and masses of golden curls that no amount of working through with pearl combs could untangle. Her gold-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of of her button nose. She always seemed to be out of breath, rushing to study with her sister here, helping her father with his work there. “Here you go! I only just completed this story yesterday. It's fortuitous that I was able to finish it. It's a story about the people above the waters of the Atlantic. I know you truly enjoy Grandmother's tales.”

She smiled and took the bound sheets of seaweed-paper, specially treated to be waterproof. “Thank you, Enid. I'll start reading it tonight.”

Gertrude took the largest seashell from the table. “I've been wanting to give you this for a long time. I think you're old enough to take care of it now.”

When the seashell flipped open, it revealed the most amazing tiara Betty had ever seen. It was made from hundreds of pieces of quartz, in all shapes and sizes. A pearl the size of her father's thick fist was embedded in the center.

“It's beautiful, Grandmother.” Betty was truly amazed. “I've never seen anything like it.”

“It was your mother's on her birthday. Now it's yours.” She took the tiara and nestled it in her granddaughter's thick chestnut curls. “You look so much like her, Betty. She was beautiful, too, and a writer.”

Mackie smiled. “I know what present my angelfish wants most of all.”

“Oh yes!” Betty beamed. “Today is my day to go above!”

“That's right, my sweet little tuna. It's finally that birthday. The one where you get to spend the day taking a gander at the land-dwellers and seein' what they do.”

“I don't know why you'd want to.” Jeff frowned. “I don't trust humans. You know what happened when I went up there. I got caught in a fisherman's net.” He waved a hand at his chocolate-brown fin, which was missing a piece. “I'm lucky I got out with only a chunk of my tail missing.”

“Most humans aren't hunters. They have families and children and favorite animal companions, just like we do.” Doug took his sister's hand. “I went closer to land when I visited. I saw human women in strange, gauzy, flowing scales, splashing each other in the sea or playing with their children in the sand. The little humans were so sweet! They built tiny castles and scooped sand into bowl-like objects. I don't think any of them would have hurt a minnow.”

“You're terribly lucky!” Enid took her hands. “How I wish I could attend with you!”

“Me too,” C.J added. “I want to see if the humans have any shell machines like ours.”

Betty thanked all of them for the presents and gave them huge hugs. “Wish me luck!”

“Be back by sundown!” Gertrude called out. “And mind your manners when you're up there. Don't want the humans to get the wrong idea about us merfolk.”

Betty finally made her way to the surface. She'd been close to the surface before, but had never broken the ripples that flowed gently over her home. Now, for the first time, she was going to see the humans for herself. She was hoping she'd meet more of the females and children, like Doug did. They sounded like fun. And if she encountered a fisherman's net...well, she knew how to take care of herself.

The first thing she saw when her head emerged from the water was a vast expanse of blue-gray overhead. The world seemed to be nothing but fat, greyish puffs swimming through the grayness. Grandmother had told her about the air humans needed to breathe to survive....although right now, Betty was wondering how they could. The air around her was so heavy, she suspected she could cut it with a sharp piece of quartz.

That was when she saw the strangest thing bobbing along in the waves. It seemed to be made all of gaily colored driftwood. The tall floating driftwood glided past her, seemingly swimming on the crests of the waves. Betty had heard about it from her grandmother's stories, but had never actually seen anything like it in one piece. She'd seen wrecked boats on the ocean floor, but none in good condition.

She swam over to the vessel and climbed the rock-like chains to the anchor as well as she could. She held onto the railings and watched the party. The humans moved lightly around the deck, one of them playing a stringed object that made music. They stomped their legs and twirled and sang and made tons of noise.

“Hey Scotty!” laughed one burly fellow with lots of hair on his chin, “this is the only way to celebrate the end of the summer, ain't it?”

That was when she saw him. He wasn't as tall as some of the men around him, nor was he as broad-shouldered, but he had a strong chin, heavy black hair with silver at the temples, and beautiful warm amber eyes. His lopsided smile turned her heart to soft sand. She could hear his infectious and merry laughter across the main deck. “You bet it is,” he grinned, “and you guys deserve it. You've worked hard. This shipment of spices from India will net us thousands of dollars.”

“And better yet,” added another one with thick eyebrows and a hearty, ringing voice, “we'll be home in time for the big Labor Day parade and clambake in three weeks!”

“You think I'd make you boys miss the clambake?” Scott laughed, whirling with another, smaller man. “It's one of my favorite parties of the year!”

“Who are ye takin' with ye this year, Scott?” The big man with the bristly chin nudged him playfully...though he nearly sent the younger man to the deck.

“Haven't figured that one out yet, Harry,” Scott admitted when Harry helped him to his feet. “I'll find a girl. Piece of cake!”

Betty sighed. She wished she could eat clams with him. Or do anything with him. He was so strong and handsome. If only he were a merman, not a human! She wished she could sing for him, read to him, take him to meet her family....

She was so busy admiring the good-natured sailor, she hadn't noticed that the dark clouds on the horizon had become even heavier, and the thick air even closer. She was startled by a noisy rumble that shook the boat to its core. Bright, white lights, like the lights from electric eels, flashed across the sky.

Harry looked up into the horizon. “We'd better batten down the hatches, Scotty. There's a storm-a brewin'.”

“And it looks like it's going to be a nasty one.” Scott immediately started giving orders to the men. Everyone dashed around at once, throwing on strange, slick yellow coverings and tying down things on-deck. Betty barely clung to the railings. She kept her eyes on Scott as he tied down the long piece of driftwood that held the wide white fins. The rain had started coming down now, lashing on the boat in torrents. The air picked up until it was a gale, blowing barrels, small objects, and men across the deck.

The wind was too much for Betty. She wasn't accustomed to such force! She finally lost her grip and plunged back into the sea. She swam away from the vessel, trying to avoid being caught in its currents.

She made it to the surface again, this time watching the ship from a distance. The ship wasn't handling the storm well. It was being tossed around like her brothers' childhood shell boat toys. She gasped as a bolt of light hit the mast, setting it on fire. Scott was struggling with a circle with spikes on it to keep the boat in control. Without the mast and fins, the boat was easily thrown into series of jutting rocks by the shore with a sickening crunch!

Most of the men had climbed into a smaller version of the boat, one without a mast. Betty swam as close to it as she dared. She saw Harry and some of the other men, but not Scott. The other men were concerned, too. She could hear their chatter over the booming noise from the sky. Oh, where was he?

The men had just gotten the smaller boat away from the larger one when the larger boat began to break apart. No! Betty had to go to the boat and make sure Scott was all right. Grandmother Gertrude told her that humans couldn't survive for very long in the water without special equipment. Their lungs weren't made for being without air for more than a minute or two at most.

She swam around the part of the boat that was now in the ocean, dodging debris and scraps of driftwood. She finally found Scott trapped under the mast that had been flung into the sea. He was struggling to get loose, but he couldn't hold his breath and push it away at the same time. His furious struggles lessened, until he finally fell unconscious, his body becoming lifeless under the heavy cylinder of wood.

Betty had no time to think. She used another piece of the mast to push the log off Scott as well as she could. She then pulled him to the surface as quickly as her fins could carry them. The storm was already passing as she dragged him to the shore.

By the time she made it to the nearest piece of land, the storm was gone. A beautiful streak of red, gold, lavender, and pale blue had replaced it. Rays of gold broke through the gray clouds, illuminating the duo on the shore. Betty held Scott against her tail, singing sweetly to him. Her reddish curls flowed around both of them. He was so beautiful, with his thick, dark hair streaked with silver, strong chin, and muscular arms and chest. He was still breathing a little ragged, probably due to his sudden immersion.

“Oh Scott, I wish I could stay with you for always.” She gave him a kiss on the lips, the way she remembered seeing her father and mother do many years ago, when she was but a tiny mergirl of 50.

Scott's eyelashes were just fluttering when Betty heard a happy bray of a female voice. “Scotty!” She dove into the surf just as a tall, bosomy red-head in a fancy flowered covering and knitted wrap rushed onto the beach. “You're all right!” She knelt beside him and gave him a huge hug.

He was coughing up water. “Yeah, I am, but I won't be if you don't give me some air, Mapes.”

The young woman slapped him on the back as he leaned over. “That must have been some ride you had. Your crew got back here about a half-hour ago. They're all fine, but they're worried about you.”

Scott looked at her with a dazed smile. “Maple...did you rescue me? Was that you singing?”

Maple raised an eyebrow. “Scotty, I just got out here. I haven't sung a note. That must have been a seagull you heard.”

“No, it wasn't a seagull.” Scott looked around him, as if trying to find the source of the unknown singer. “It was beautiful. Maple, it was the most amazing music I ever heard. It was like...like a mermaid's voice.” The young woman slowly helped him to his feet. “I've gotta find her. I know someone helped me when I was stuck under the mast on the ship. I remember seeing a face....a very pretty face...coming towards me when I was under water.” He sighed. “And then, I blacked out. That's all I remember, until I heard that voice.”

“You musta hit your head on the deck when you went down.” She put an arm around him to steady him. “Come on. Eugenia's got corn bread, baked beans, mashed turnips, and fresh peas on the table for dinner. We were gonna celebrate you comin' home with your cargo.” She gave him a big, toothy smile. “We can still celebrate you livin' through that storm.”

Betty watched Maple help Scott up towards the strange shapes on the shore. She felt so discouraged. “He doesn't remember me!” she exclaimed. “He doesn't know I was the one who saved him.” She fingered her necklace. “I have to be with him. I have to tell him somehow.”

She dove back into the water. She was already late getting home. Her father would be furious, and her siblings and grandmother would worry. Especially Jeff. He and his wife Hilary, a noted sea witch, were convinced that humans were no good. They considered merfolk, with their ability to swim like fish and breathe in the air as well as in the water, to be vastly superior. Merfolk only took the fish and crustaceans they needed to feed their families and keep populations down, no more. Humans caught and caught until there was nothing left to catch, then moved on to the next patch of ocean to strip that of life.

That can't be true of Scott, Betty thought. He didn't mention catching fish. I saw no nets on his ship. He catches something called spices. I'll bet he's never harmed a fish in his life, except for to have one or two for dinner.

“Princess Elizabeth Ariel Marina Pearl, where in the name of Neptune have you been?” Her father's normally gentle voice shouted with anger when she finally arrived back in their family grotto. “You should have been home hours ago!”

“Father, you won't believe this!” She took his hands. “I saw the most amazing things on the surface! A ship passed by me, and there was a huge storm, and I actually saved a human's life!”

“You...what?” Mackie frowned. “Betty, you know we're not supposed to make contact with humans. If they were aware that we're down here, they'd fish us and catch us and push us out of our homes until there's nothing left. Remember what happened to most of the whales around here?”

Betty was too excited to heed his anger. “Father, he was knocked out in the storm. He would have died if I hadn't gotten him to shore. He didn't really see me.” She sighed. “He was the most beautiful creature! He had hair the color of a black pearl, and eyes like ancient amber, and his skin was so...”

Her father interrupted her. “And he has legs.” Mackie patted his daughter's shoulder. “Hon, you'll be better off if you just forget about him. He's a human. You're a mermaid. You can't live in his world, and he can't live in yours.”

“But I...”

“Honey, just go to bed. This will all pass in the morning.”

She did go to bed....but it didn't pass. She thought about Scott and the world above constantly. She wondered what it would be to have legs, like Scott's friend Maple. She'd dance with him, and sing for him, and be by his side, and write stories for him and other humans to read. She wished she could tell him who rescued him. She was so caught up in her daydreams, she barely left her room in the grotto.

“Betty?” Gertrude peered into the opening to her room about a week after her birthday. “Are you all right, hon? Everyone's been asking for you. We've barely seen you for days.”

Betty turned from her stories. “Grandmother,” she started, “can humans breathe underwater? Isn't there any way for them to live down here?”

“No, my child.” Gertrude shook her head. “I've told you before. Humans aren't equipped for living here. Their lungs can only breathe in air, and even the most adept swimmer can't move among fish and aquatic plant life like we can.”

“Couldn't we live among them? Live like they do?”

Gertrude sighed. “It just isn't possible. Humans don't live nearly as long as we do, only 70 years or so at the most, maybe 80. When they die, their souls become immortal. Our souls are different. We live longer, but our souls don't. When we die, we become one with the water...but we don't live on.” She nodded at Betty's tail. “Besides, we can't walk on land any more than then can swim under the waves.”

“How can I get an immortal soul?”

Getrude frowned. “Betty, does this have anything to do with that sailor your father said you rescued from drowning?”

Betty played with her pearl necklace. “Partly.” She turned to her books. “But it mostly has to do with me. I liked what I saw of the land, Grandmother. I love my home here...but I want to explore there, too. I want to see it all, write about it all.”

Gertrude shook her head. “You have a whole world to explore down here. Be glad of that.” She hugged her granddaughter. “Things will be back to normal tomorrow.”

“No, Grandmother,” Betty whispered to herself as she watched her beloved grandparent head for her own room. “I don't think things will ever be normal again.”