Ariel
Ariel awoke from her nap when she heard the most dreaded sound in the world. She’d only heard it a few times before, but she knew it well enough to fear it. Just like any caged animal, she feared the sounds of the locks.
In a rush, she flung herself out of her hammock and into the water, diving rapidly toward the tunnel that flowed to the seaway. In the murky light, she could see the gate closing. With furious determination, she used every bit of speed she could muster to get beyond that closing steel barrier. But it was too late.
She snared the steel in her hands, pulling until her muscles burned, but it was a useless effort. The gate closed with steady force against which she was helpless.
Slamming her palms into the bars, she let out a long underwater scream. Pushing her face close to the angled edges, she looked out past the end of the tunnel where the waters flowed. Part of her wondered if she’d ever swim in those warm currents again.
Spinning around, she slammed her tailfin into the gate, sending her back toward the pool…her prison. When she came up for air, Father stood at the edge of the water, dressed in his doctor’s coat.
“Why?” she asked through saltwater tears.
He dropped his chin. “I’m sorry, Ariel.”
“Then why?”
“I had no choice.”
“Of course you do, you don’t have to do this. There’s always a choice, you taught me that.”
“Sometimes there is no choice.”
“That’s a lie. There’s never a time in life where there’s no choice. You taught me, you taught me that—never—ever—ever—ever—ever.”
He looked to the ceiling. “Choices define us. What we choose creates our character. The things we become are a direct result of each choice we make.”
“Which proves my point that there are always choices, so why are you punishing me?”
“I’m not punishing you, dear.”
“You locked me up like an animal in a zoo. Is that what I am?”
He sighed. “No, Ariel, you’re—”
“But I am! I am a caged animal! I’m a freak! I’m a freak with a stupid fin!”
“Who told you that?”
“No one had to. I know what I am.”
He turned around and pulled a wheeled cart near the edge of the pool. “It will soon be time to check and see if the baby has started growing.”
“Is that why you locked me up?”
“This baby is very important.”
Ariel couldn’t help but wonder to whom the baby was so important. “It’s my baby.”
“Yes, she will be your baby, but someone has to raise her. Someone has to love her.”
Ariel looked up at him. “What if it’s not a she?”
He met her eyes for several long seconds, then looked away, and that’s when she knew there was something so very wrong here. Exactly what it was she didn’t know, but something was very wrong.
He shook his head. “It’s always a girl. That’s all mermaids can give birth to, females.”
She felt like he was lying. “But what if it were a boy?”
“It never has been before.”
“It would be a merman?”
“It’s never happened before.”
“You’re lying to me.”
He looked down at her. “I’m not lying. It cannot happen.”
“You’re not answering.”
“I did answer. I have to go to work.”
“And what am I to do all day? I can’t get out to the garden, how will I eat?”
He slid a shopping bag off the cart onto the edge of the deck. “There’s plenty of food here.”
She fought back tears. “Why am I being punished?”
He frowned through a long sigh. “I’m sorry.” He turned away.
“Is this because of Jake?”
He stopped in his tracks, he did not turn around, he did not move. He did not reply. But after several long seconds, he continued on his path. That’s when she knew. His silence spoke a million more words than any words would have.
As Ariel watched him rise up the steps, anger started to build from somewhere in her gut. She’d never known anger like this. It was a new feeling. She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw began to ache up to her ears. Her fists involuntarily balled up so tight her trim nails dug painfully into her palms.
Even through her fury, she heard the quiet clank of the outside gate closing behind Father’s car. He’d be gone until well into the evening. She was not going to be a prisoner, not again, not this time.
Planting her palms on the stone pool deck, she pulled herself out and onto the floor. In the only way she could, she slithered across the smooth stone until she got to the door, where a small, wheeled cart sat. She pushed the cart aside and reached up to turn the knob.
She knew there was something in here that could help. She’d seen them before and knew how they worked. Father brought them down here after he used them to get around when he twisted his ankle.
The aluminum poles stood there, leaning against the wall. She’d never tried to walk on crutches, but she’d theorized it was possible. Grabbing hold of the poles, she pulled them off the wall and onto the floor.
With one in each hand, she pulled herself up to her knees, and then with greater difficulty than she expected, completely upright. Being upright was incredibly unsettling. Her head started to spin, she felt sick. She tried to stay steady, but it was no use. She plunged forward quickly, smashing into a shelf, bouncing off that and into a mop and bucket.
The fall hurt, but she was undeterred and began to mount another effort. This time she did it smarter, with her back to the wall. When she got upright and the dizzy hit her, she let herself fall backwards.
She closed and opened her eyes several times, hoping to blink away the spinning. Adjusting her stance to get her tail in a more viable position, she realized it was not comfortable. The flipper at the end of her tail was not flat. It was difficult to stand on. But it had no real feeling in it, so she started to bounce on it until it sort of folded in front of her. It not only stabilized her, it sort of gave her a bit of a tickle feeling down in the end of her tail section, which on people would be their feet.
After leaning forward a bit onto the crutches, she was able to get the feeling of moving. It was only an inch or two at a time the first few steps, but after just a few more she started to get the idea. It started to feel okay.
Rather than heading straight for the steps, she decided to walk around the deck for a while, getting used to the feel of moving and turning. She had to do it now, because what she was planning was the riskiest thing she’d ever done in her life.