They had come to the beach earlier in the day, and had decided to stay “just one more hour.” Now it was evening. They held hands as they walked along the shore. “Let’s build a fire,” she said to him. He agreed, and started to drag pieces of driftwood into a pile. She helped, and soon there was a blazing fire.

She sat next to her new husband. He got out the thermos of coffee; there was just enough left to pour into the two cups. They drank in silence, looking at the fire. He quickly kissed her as he put the empty cups away.

He sat back down next to her. “Tell me a story, Lisa.”

“I don’t know any.”

“Make one up then.”

She rolled her eyes. “Chris—“

“Please. I like listening to you.”

“Okay, since you said please.” She took a deep breath.

“They had come to the beach earlier in the day, and had decided to stay ‘just one more hour.’ The noontime sun shone on them. Jimmy ran up and down the shore, looking for sea shells. His mother sat on the beach towel in her floppy hat and sunglasses, reading a book. “Jimmy, don’t go too fat out, now!” she called.

‘Ma, I can’t swim!’ he yelled back.

‘Fine, dear.’ She went back to her book.

‘Ma, my head exploded!’

‘That’s nice, dear.’

“It was true; Jimmy couldn’t swim. He was fourteen. He liked to test his mother now and then, to see if she was really paying attention: ‘Ma, my arm fell off!,’ ‘Ma, I got attacked by killer bees!’ Most of the time she wasn’t. It was very annoying. Nothing seemed to work with her. He decided to try something different.

“He waded out a little farther, but made sure he was still in the shallows. He kneeled down, so only his head was visible. ‘Ma, help me! I’m drowning! Ma, help!’

“He splashed around. ‘H--!’ Suddenly, a hand grabbed his foot and pulled him under, turning his last word into bubbles. He closed his mouth. He was breathing underwater. Whatever was pulling his foot moved very fast. He was in the deep ocean now. He wriggled free from the hand, and started sinking. His lungs hurt. The hand grabbed his foot again and changed its grip. He could breathe again.

“He was facing away from whatever was pulling him, so he couldn’t see what it was until they stopped. A middle-aged merwoman held his hand now, instead of his foot. She had seaweed for a top instead of seashells like in the movies. She was blonde, with an aquiline nose. She had once been beautiful.

“Hello, said a voice in his head. He tried to say ‘What am I doing here?’ but it too came out in bubbles. She tapped her temple with her forefinger. He got the message.

What am I doing here? he thought. Who are you?

My name is Raidah. You are my replacement.

Replacement for what?

You will learn. My people have done this for many generations. With the proper care, you will become one of us.

No, I won’t! He tried to get away from her again. She tightened her grip on his hand.

You are here now. You will stay.

No! his mind screamed. He wriggled some more, but couldn’t get out of her grip.

Stop that! You will stay!

He nodded his head. Yes’m.

“The merman who had once been a human boy named Jimmy swam alongside the boat. He and his ‘mother’ both had sliver tails. Most people mistook them for dolphins.

“There was a cry from the boat. A woman had fallen off of it. The merman caught her as she hit the water. He quickly pushed her over to the ladder on the boat’s side, so he wouldn’t be seen.

“‘That dolphin saved me!’ the woman said to the captain.

It wasn’t until he was back home that he realized the woman was his real mother. The end.”

“I liked that story,” Chris said. “I wasn’t expecting him to be captured by mermaids.”

“Neither was I.”

“Didn’t his real mother miss him, though?”

“If I knew I would’ve told you,” Lisa said. “Let’s go home.”

“All right.” He helped her pick up the thermos, the picnic basket, and the blanket. Hand in hand, they walked back to their car.