The boys had really gone and done it this time. It had been one of those weekends where everyone processed something they hadn’t been dealing with through intense personal encounters with the ocean. Bruce had let his surfboard wash out to sea in some symbolic demonstration of letting go of his past trauma. Trent had been struck by lightning while surfing the biggest wave he’d ever caught, but was totally fine apart from the way he felt around metallic objects for the next few hours, and for some reason decided this was a sign he should become an advocate for renewable energy. Kenny had swum a mile out from the beach to confront the shark that killed his dad, and unexpectedly formed a beautiful bond with this dangerous creature that he knew would last the rest of their lives.
While all this was going on Darren met a mermaid, but didn’t feel like he’d fully resolved any issues or lingering questions about life in the way the others had. He sat on the sand all through Saturday afternoon, then Sunday morning, until he suddenly stood up, interrupted his mates, and said, ‘Yeah, nah, come on. I’m gonna ask her out.’ And so Darren paddled out as the sun set on the Sunday, balancing a basket on his surfboard that contained two glasses, a bottle of champagne, olives, cheese and crackers. He told the boys he wasn’t sure whether her palate would be the same as his, but he didn’t want to turn up empty-handed.
From a distance, Bruce, Trent and Kenny watched Darren approach the rocks. They stood on the edge of a cliff, wind whipping through their hair, and for a few moments became distracted by how overwhelming the elements could be and by their reflections on what this meant about people, nature and life itself. But soon enough they refocused on Darren, his champagne bottle glinting in the dark, the scene lit by a near full moon.
What they then witnessed was a delightful encounter, where a mermaid emerged from the depths to sit on the rocks and feast on the snacks Darren had brought with him. They couldn’t see the details, or hear the conversation, but from what little body language they could interpret things seemed to be going well. This went for hours, hours they didn’t expect, and the air became chilly, but still they watched.
In the early hours of the morning, still well before dawn, the mermaid leaned into Darren and whispered something into his ear. He nodded, then clambered from the rock back onto his surfboard.
Once he was sitting on his board, he rubbed it gently before looking up to his friends and waving, though they were pretty sure he couldn’t see them. Then, without warning, he grabbed the mermaid’s hand and was pulled under water, leaving his board bobbing on the waves.
The three stood in silence, watching the board, taking in the vast darkness that surrounded it. Darren, of all of them, had descended into the ocean, becoming a part of it forever, taking on whatever sublime experience there was to be had once the border between humanity and nature was dissolved, just as they had always discussed.
So, they agreed, they really had gone and done it, this time. At least, one of them had.
Then they turned away from the cliff and walked back to their their van, and Trent said he’d shout everyone a milkshake at a cafe up the road.
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A Quick Recommendation
‘Long Live the Girl Detective’ by Meg Pillow in Electric Literature uses many tools at the same time – it plays with genre, tropes, form, structure, humour, darkness. The Girl Detective attempts to solve her own murder, but investigates so much else.
The Girl Detective pulls up WebMD. There is no medical advice, unfortunately, about what to do when you’ve been murdered. There are no helpful tips on how to bring yourself back. She contemplates her bookmarks, as a little treat.
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