The Biggest Mermaid

The Biggest Mermaid
a fantasy tale by Stephen Brooke

“Another sailor mistook me for a manatee today,” Muriel pouted. “I really must go on a diet.”

“But my dear,” protested her mother, “the blubber helps protect you from the cold of the depths, as with all sea creatures.”

“Not much good if I can’t entice a man or two to join me in those depths.”

The older mermaid sighed. “Humans just don’t appreciate a full figure these days.”

“And there aren’t near enough shipwrecks anymore,” said a sister. “We could always depend on a drowning sailor every now and then.”

Another sibling giggled. “They don’t care that much about our figures!”

The family sat in an alcove amid the pink and white towers of a great coral reef, surrounded by treasure they had found and gathered. They knew nothing of its value, nor did they care, but they liked the pretty baubles, the flashing red and green stones, the shiny gold coins and jewelry. Now and again a mermaid would rub off the algae and coral that had begun to grow on them. This was usually because they were bored, and soon they would find some other undersea pleasure to take their interest.

“All we see anymore is those who have already drowned and washed out to us.” The drowned men could be animated for a while, with a bit of magic, but that wasn’t really the same. And then the fishes tended to nibble at them too.

“Too cold,” stated Muriel. “Too bloodless.”

Heads nodded in agreement, heads of dark luxuriant locks, floating and writhing in the eddies rising through the spreading branches of the coral. A parrot fish glided by. One of the maids reached out and snatched it, biting into the brightly-colored swimmer with strong sharp teeth. “Not bloodless here,” she spoke between dainty nibbles, “but cold.” The others sighed.

This was no good, thought Muriel. “I’m going to go find a warm-blooded man,” she proclaimed. “No, a hot-blooded man! And I’m not coming back till I do.”

She searched along many coasts without much luck. Once she even pulled herself up on the shore and posed enticingly. Someone called, “Another whale has beached itself! We need to push it back into the water!” Muriel did not wait for them to make the attempt. Then, as she swam along the shores of Rum Cay, sometimes close to the sunny, sandy beaches, sometimes diving into the dark depths, the mermaid spied a little harbor and, in that harbor, a little dock. On it sat an old man, dozing, a fishing rod in his hands. She swam up and tugged on his line to awaken him.

The old fisherman rubbed his eyes when she surfaced and gave him her sauciest smile.

“I’ll be! A mermaid.” He looked her up and down—as much of her as he could see. “I’ve sailed far more than seven seas in me life, gal, but I believes ye are the biggest I’ve iver laid eyes on.”

Muriel scowled at the rude old fellow and was ready to flip over and dive back into the depths. “Don’t bother me none,” he continued. “Some might say thar be more of ye to love.”

The man was old and bent and had a long white beard. But he was a man. The mermaid smiled at him again, taking care not to show too many teeth. “Why don’t you jump in and show me?”

“Not me, gal. I know ye ladies of the sea has a way of drownin’ yer lovers. Whether ye means to or not, I’ve niver been sartain.”

Muriel had never drowned a man before she intended. She took some pride in this.

“What if I promise not to?” she asked.

“Will ye swear by Neptune, gal? A real oath?”

The mermaid hesitated. Oh, why not? “By Neptune I swear not to drown you, elderly mortal. Aye, and by Thalassa as well.”

“Good enough. Those are powerful vows and I knows you’ll keep ’em.” With that he threw off the ragged pair of shorts that were his only garment and jumped into the water.

“I always had me a hankering to find out what it’s like to be with a mermaid. I seen a school of ye frolicking off the Cape of Good Hope once and almost dived in.”

“You would have been drowned,” she told him.

“So I reckoned! Best I waited till ye showed up, eh?”

“Quit talking, old fool, and come to me.”

He was eager enough to do so at once. Ah, yes! The old salt was still virile. And she was careful to keep his head above water. Most of the time—passions did lead to occasional lapses of attention.

When both were fully sated, the old man rested, cradled in her ample arms, against her ample breasts and ample body. “Why do ye seek out mortals like me?” he asked, when his breath returned. He did need to cough up a little salt water. “Ain’t you got no mermen?”

“They’re stupid and ugly, and dangerous brutes. They mostly end up killing each other, so we seek mortal men. You’re much nicer.”

“Glad to hear it. Go again?” He leered in a somewhat repulsive manner.

“I think not.” She had promised only not to drown the man. Nothing else. And she had been dieting long enough! Muriel sank her sharp teeth into his throat. The beard was no impediment.

And though he was a bit leathery he was full of hot blood.
 

appeared in Lands Far Away 2021