Mermaids

I sat on the porch swing, my knees hugged to my chest. I look up, brushing back a wisp of black hair that had escaped my ponytail. Something seems at unease, and the soft murmur of the mosquitoes becomes a roar over the banks of the lake. The air smells different, too, in a way I cannot describe. I float back and forth, leaning back until my head reaches the side of the peeling panels on the front of the house.

“Mona!” Mom comes outside, wiping her hands on the faded apron that she always seems to be wearing. She sees me, and nods, straightening her neck in a way that reminds me of an egret. She does that when she smells the air, something her Papa taught her. “Something is ill.” She says in her cryptic way of talking, and opens up the screen door, going back into the air conditioning. The wind blows the cool air towards me, and I shiver, goose bumps rising on my arms.

The wind whispers something I can barely make out. “Mona. Mona.” Long, strenuous voices breathe it. I uncurl my arms from my legs and stand up, the swing banging into my calves. “Mona. Mona.” The voices lead me away from the wooden porch, down the steps, to the banks of the lake. Lake Diamond. People say it used to shine like its name, and sometimes you can see the shadow of what if used to be in the shimmering schools of mullets and silverfish.

“Come, Mona. Come.” The voices say. Without a glance around, I slip off my shirt and my pants until I’m in my underclothes, and slide a foot into the water, ignoring the slime that seems to coat it. A few more steps, and I dive straight in, and skim along the bottom of the lake, not feeling algae or slime, but sand under my fingers. I feel like a fish, gliding along without a breath, or a care. I can still here the voices, but they are muffled now. “Stay, Mona. Stay.” I open my eyes, and in a shimmering breath, I can see what is only fabled to be.

They sit on their rocks, leaning back as if trying to soak up the sun through the water. Dark hair covers them, and I can see gills on the sides of their necks, flaring. Their blue tails shimmer in the golden light that has been cast upon them, and they look at me with a calling. “Stay, Mona. Stay.” Then the image is gone, and my eyes are filled with green water.

A giggle ripples, and I lay upon one of the rocks that they had been on. “Love, Mona. Love.” The voices fade and I close my eyes, trying to feel as they do. “Be, Mona. Be.” My lungs are gasping for breath, but then they are not. They seem to fill with water, and then they are gone.

My eyes open. I no longer need to breath. They glance at me, with raised necks, and then settle back on their rocks. I am one of them.