Tell Me Your Story

There are many stories out there for you to look at, but today, you have decided to look at this one. Let us turn to the Smithsonian musuem, and paint a picture for you of the setting. There is a man standing in front of a large tank. The label says ‘mermaid,’ but he does not believe or understand what it really means...

The camera is in his clutches, waiting eagerly to be clicked. His fingers only hover over the shutter button, the man looking at the tank for something. He is surprised that no one else is here to see what he is here to look at, but having no one here will make it all better for him.

Nothing comes.

Slowly, he spots a fin. It’s like nothing he has seen before, every single print too beautiful for words. Indeed, it almost suggests that there are words written on the fin. He looks up from the camera to have a better look of the creature, but is stopped by the faint footsteps behind him. They are far enough for him to shove his camera into his satchel. He doesn’t want to be found with it, especially in a place like this.

Now the group of people are close enough for the man to see who they really are. They are men with tattoos covering their arms. They don’t seem like people who should be surveying a museum like this, and the man holds onto his satchel for reassurance.

He nods over to the group, all who ignore him and dispurse like bugs finding honey splattered on the ground. They run every which way, but the biggest of them all walks towards the man. He has a tattoo of a woman prancing around his calf, and another of a mermaid wrapped around his arm. The fin dissapears as he steps in front of the tank.

“A beauty, ain’t she?” The tattooed man said. The man with the camera straightened up, but it didn’t make any difference.

“I haven’t had a chance to really look at her,” he replied. “But I know for sure that the sailor who captured him was despicable to capture such a beautiful thing from the sea. And to think that they’d sell her to the Smithsonian, a mermaid that’s still alive...” by now he was in his own thoughts letting the rest of his statement trail off.

“Well, you’re looking right at him.” The sailor grinned, looking down at the man as if he were some child.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to-”

“Naw, it’s okay. We had to take her into custody, tho’. She was being a havoc, stealing mens’ hearts in the sea. I finally found the courage to take her.”

“I doubt that she was any problem. It was her home, you know.” The man pulls out his camera now, knowing that a sailor like him would not care about such a thing.

“Well, nothing we can do about it now, eh?” The sailor said, nudging the man in a friendly manner. The man didn’t give the same affection, instead looking down at his camera.

“I’ll be leaving then,” the sailor man said. “Take care of yerself for me.”

After a moment of reticence in the exhibition, the mermaid finally peeked out from the shady part of the tank. Skin the shade of seaweed and eyes the color of gold, she held her hand out, palm pressed to the glass.

Tell me your story, the man thought. He knew the mermaid could not hear him, but somehow, somewhere in his head, an instinct told him to say that to himself.

To his surprise, she whispered back.

“Gladly.”