Chapter 2: Voice on the Air

In my dreams, my legs are missing. They are surrounded by water that turns them into scales. The scales of a fish of varying hues. Some are green, and others are teal. The voice of an angelic creature sings in the distance beneath the rocky sea cliffs beyond the fog. The mist hides the face of the songstress and I wake up thinking of mermaids.

I've seen mermaids often in my daydreams and nightmares. They come to me, in the form of songs on the ocean air. Perhaps my mind has a hankering for a good old classic fantasy film, or perhaps it means something more. Mermaids aren't real we all know that. As a little girl, my parents would take me to Ripley's Believe It Or Not Museum. For those who don't know what that is it's a museum carrying various oddities and mysterious objects that have tall tales to go with them.

Among the strange collection is a half-monkey half-fishtail, clearly sewn together to trick an ordinary uneducated fool. But I am no fool, as a child that display case looked fake and was concocted by a con artist with a trick up his sleeve to earn a cheap wage.

No, if mermaids are real, they will find a way to call me into their home. Do mermaids live in tribes? Or do they live in a school like fish? What are a group of mermaids called? I've never thought about it before, but I guess if they were real I would call them a colony or family.

I dare not wake Brianna and tell her that my dreams of having a tail have returned. She'd call me nuts and she'd be right of course. Nothing sounds crazier than a human dreaming they are a fish. She'd tell me to switch majors in the fall from music performance to marine biology. Or it's a case of severe sleep deprivation mixed with indigestion from my food intolerances.

Either way, I need to see my therapist again, she's known for interrupting dreams. She finds meaning in everything. She's more of a fortune teller really. Her name is Esther and she tried to use healing beads and incense around me once. She was convinced that aroma therapy was the key to hypnotizing me and getting to the bottom of my fishtail repeat dream.

As a child, my grandfather would tell me tales of his adventures out at sea as a fisherman. He would wear his crimson raincoat and black rain boots. He had a large brown wooden pipe and a long salt and peppered beard. He died when I was ten. The story I remember most from his seafaring adventures involved almost catching a whale. Grandpa Jerry claimed at the time that he almost got dragged out to sea and swallowed whole by the poor sea mammal. Unless Grandpa was somehow related to Jonah from that old Bible story, there was no way for that fish story to ever be true.

He also bragged about falling in love with a siren. A siren is a voice on the water that sings to fishermen. It's a mermaid with the vocal cords of a goddess. Perhaps my grandpa was telling the truth, maybe there is something living at the bottom of the sea. If they could call my grandfather and let him live, what would they do to me?

Brianna slept over at my house last night. I sometimes think we are too old for this type of thing. But she insisted I needed protection and a girly invention involving cheesy romance movies and chocolate ice cream. It made thinking of my breakup worse. The kissing on the screen made me look away and play on my phone. She had fun. I just fell asleep. But now I am awake wondering why I am thinking of mermaids and Grandpa Jerry.

The clock ticks back and forth. Its loud noises bring back more memories of Grandma Kelsey baking cookies to the sound of the ticking. I inherited that clock. My father gave it to me in his will. My parents drowned in a boating accident last year. I've been too scared to go on a boat. I don't mind beaches but swimming brings the memories of their death back. Everything in my bones brings me back to the sea, my dreams, memories of Grandpa Jerry, and the sadness of my parent's death on the open water. Perhaps I need to face mother nature after all and try to forgive the relentless tides.

Mother nature is what fascinated my family. The Lawson family has a history at sea. Landon Lawson was a famous captain during the French and Indian wars. Marco Lawson became a pirate when he lost his fortune gambling in the new world. The stories go on and on. The ocean is written in my DNA like a code calling to me.

The wind outside the house has a faint and eerie sound to it. Almost like a fresh whistle pressing against the clear glass. I get up from my bed and open the window and the wind pulls me toward the nearby ocean. The voice echoes and I hear the voice a clear as day sing into the air.

Come and visit us by the sea,

We have a precious gift for thee...

Come and find what lies below,

It's time to discover what you don't know...

I quickly close the window as the goosebumps rise to my pours with a chilly wave of having the creeps. There is something or someone out there calling to me. Perhaps I had one too many drinks last night when I was trying to forget about my breakup. But between my mermaid tale dream and the voice on the wind, I can not ignore the sea for much longer, otherwise, it will drive me into madness.

The sea drove my grandfather into madness. After his wife died, he went in search of the siren voice. Rumor has it he heard the voice and that's why he crashed into the rocks near the shoreline. His body was never found. My father thought of my grandfather often and missed him so much that he decided to do one last search. That's why my parents both lost their lives last summer. The final search for Grandpa Jerry was enough to end them, in the same spot beside the rocks. Like Grandpa Jerry, their boat was found but never their bodies.

I like to think from time to time that they are all alive and thriving somewhere else. If the bodies weren't found perhaps it meant they weren't dead after all. They could be somewhere else, lost and trying to make their way back to me. Perhaps the eerie voice calling to me now is the same one that called the rest of my family to the depths of Poseidon's sea.

All the answers to why my loved ones are gone might be calling to me now. I open the window and listen to the voice's message one more time.

Come my dear, and follow me...

Your heart's happiness lies beneath the sea...

If you don't hear my voice calling to you...

You will still make your way down near the blue...

Come my dear and follow me...

Down below your family will surely be...

I take off my socks and pull back my hair, and close the doors and windows behind me. Brianna is still sleeping as I prepare to leave. I write a quick note for her and tape it on the television. She's sure to notice it there when she wakes up. Brianna is notorious for watching TV first thing in the morning. The voice is still singing as I head out the door. I feel sand beneath my feet, as I stretch out my toes. It's grainy to the touch and gets damp the closer I get to shore. My toes curl in the sand and the edge of the water touches my feet with its coolness. The mist rises to the ocean's surface and I follow the voice into the depths as I begin to swim.