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Max, a fisherman with big dreams, had never believed in supernatural creatures.
Loch Ness was dumb. Dragons were improbable. And mermaids… He especially didn’t believe in mermaids. People with fish for their bottom halves? How could their lungs even support them in the water?
And then he'd met Rose.
Rose was a mermaid.
“We have collapsible lungs,” she’d told him, cheerfully recounting all the ways in which he’d figured mermaids were impossible.
Now, she reclined on the deck of his dinghy as he threw his cast net over the side. “How fast can you swim? The fastest fish can swim 129 kilometers an hour.”
Rose tilted her head, and Max thought uncharitably that it looked like the sand in the glass of her brain was filling the other side. “What’s a kilometer?”
Max frowned. “It’s a unit of measurement.”
Rose laughed, which sounded to Max more like she was gargling. “A human unit of measurement.”
“It’s standard.”
“For humans.”
Max shook his head, checking his net and finding nothing. “Fine. Can you swim faster than a black marlin?”
“Uh-uh!” Rose was always chirpy. Literally; her voice sounded like tinkling bells and the slap of fins on the water. Max sometimes had trouble understanding her, though she could speak French, and the “how” was a mystery to him. “My speed is about half that normally, but if I pushed myself, maybe I could beat one in a race? A race with a black marlin would be fun! Ooh, let’s have one!”
Rose started pulling her way towards the left edge of the boat. Max was tempted to throw her a shiny object. She might be distracted long enough to stay on his ship. “Where are you going?”
“To find a racing partner!”
Rose slipped over the edge with a flurry of silver and pink fins. Max wondered if she’d be back. He still had so many questions.
She came back the next day, and Max peppered her with questions about how many hearts she had (“two”), whether she was cold-blooded (“what’s that mean?”), and the structure of mer society (“you’re funny, Mr. Fisherman!”).
"How long do you live?" Max asked one cloudy summer day.
"Forever."
Max nearly dropped his net. "Forever?"
"Humans live such short lives. Isn't that hysterical?"
Max didn't think that was funny at all.
As Rose told him more and more of the world she lived in under the deep, Max grew more and more enchanted. She opened his eyes to his narrow way of thinking and expanded his worldview.
Max’s dreams turned more towards spending time with Rose than ever catching fish; that had never held his attention much anyway, and he never missed an opportunity to ask her things.
He didn’t desire her in the traditional sense. Her breasts were bare to him--bras were a human invention--and Max felt nothing. But he’d long accepted that about himself. Rose didn't want a physical relationship anyway.
He was glad.
***
“Have you ever wanted to be a mer?”
Watching her sprawl out on her sunning rock, her tail remaining in the water so she didn’t get dehydrated, Max’s jaw dropped. Rose’s cheeks were filled with blue color--her coldblooded form of a blush--but her gorgeous eyes were wide open and sincere.
Max reeled in his cast net, pretending to check for tangles in an effort to distract himself from meeting that intense stare. “I… I’ve considered it. Why?”
Rose’s lyrical voice filled his waiting ears. “Because I could make you one.”
Max knew he’d have to leave his mother behind. He had a friend, Kim, whom he would miss dearly.
But he’d fallen in love with Rose, and he yearned to be with her forever.
“Please,” he said.
Rose slipped over the side of the boat without another word.
She didn’t return for three weeks. Max was desperate to see her again, trawling his usual fishing spots and her usual sunning spots. No dice. She’d never spent this long away from him before, and Max missed her innocent face and her musical voice.
One day while searching for her, Max got caught in a storm.
The waves tossed his boat from side to side as if the sea was a giant toddler throwing a temper tantrum. Max pitched over the side into an inky, wet blackness, saltwater filling his nose and mouth.
“We have collapsible lungs,” Rose had said, but Max did not have those; he surfaced and coughed up a shoe, clinging to driftwood. He’d lost his glasses, and he couldn’t even cry for help.
Just when he’d started to slip off the wood, he felt hands under his armpits. He saw a blurry, dark figure with yellow hair, and realized: Rose. Rose had come to save him.
Some bitter brew filled his mouth; she’d pressed a vial of the stuff to his lips and Max choked at first. But then he recognized that the only way for her to save him was to have him grow a tail. He swallowed.
His legs felt like they were bathed in liquid fire. He let loose a wild cry, throwing his head against Rose’s shoulder. She held him tight against her as he thrashed, her arms wrapped around his chest like an iron band.
His lungs collapsed. He tried to draw breath, but it was to no avail. Pain ricocheted through his chest; he was sure his heart was about to beat right out through his ribs.
Until it stopped.
***
Max woke up the next morning being held under the water by Rose. He glanced down at his fused legs and saw that his tail glowed dark green, and noticed that he could breathe just fine.
His vision was blurry but without glasses, what could he do?
Rose swam in front of him and smirked. “Welcome, baby mer.”
Max huffed. "I'm not a baby."
"Yes, you are."
But as long as he could start over with Rose, Max didn't care.