It was the quiet Grant remembered; a muffled quiet of pumping blood and depth, light disappearing to green-grey; a sensation of falling slowly towards equilibrium, where buoyancy would reassert itself. He’d smelled tarred rope – tasted it.
They hadn’t known, up in the sunshine there, that he was caught. His friends were laughing like gannets. Grant watched a bird plummet in a flurry of bubbles; fly through the water and up, up. It broke the surface and flew in the air.
Jimmy was next to jump from the dock. Jimmy was no diver and he didn’t come deep enough to see Grant waving — and as he struggled to be noticed, the rope tightened its hold. Why did his friends not miss him? He fought against black tendrils of wiry weed. The breath he’d taken in was almost spent. He felt his lungs would burst with holding it.
Then Grant saw the seal swimming towards him — no, not a seal. A sleek figure, copper-green body and long, brassy hair but its eyes were like a seal’s, black, round and impenetrably deep. The face was an expressionless mask, but beautiful. As it approached, limbs unfolded from its sides and it made a horizontal wave signal with its hands. ‘Calm waters,’ thought Grant, ‘calm waters.’ He caught a scent of fresh air and sea foam, and then knew nothing.
A moment later he bobbed to the surface gasping.
“I was rescued by a mermaid,” he spluttered.
Everybody told him that when you’re that close to death, you see strange things. They all said that. How would they know? When you’re that close to a mermaid, you never forget.
He’d never forgotten. Over seventy years he’d been telling the same tale. Now he was going to die anyway, he’d find out for sure. He wondered just before he jumped, whether his friends would miss him.
Oonah V Joslin lives in Northumberland, England. Winner of Micro Horror Prizes 2007 and 2008. Most read in EDF, Jan 2008. Guest judge in the Shine Journal 2008 Poetry Competition. Bewildering Stories Quarterly 4 2007 and 1 and 2 in 2008. She has had work published in Bewildering Stories, Twisted Tongue, Static Movement, 13 Human Souls, Back Hand Stories and The Pygmygiant, Lit Bits, The Linnet’s Wings, The Ranfurly Review and Boston Literary Magazine. The list is growing every month which pleases her immensely! Oonah is also Managing Editor of Every Day Poets. You can link to work, follow up-dates and contact Oonah at http://www.writewords.org.uk/oonah/ or http://www.oonahs.blogspot.com. She thanks all of you who take the time to read and comment.
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24 Responses to “CALM WATERS • by Oonah V Joslin”
Comments
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November 15th, 2009 at 5:18 am
Lovely story Oonah. Enjoyed.
November 15th, 2009 at 7:08 am
This is my favorite story of yours to date. Lovely. A five from me.
November 15th, 2009 at 7:39 am
Interesting. I loved the errie twist at the end, where he’s trying to kill himself to get back to her.
November 15th, 2009 at 7:56 am
I like the elegant way this story flows. And how she dealt with a subject that in a lesser writer’s hands could have been laughable but in hers is moving and thought provoking.
November 15th, 2009 at 8:26 am
This is beautiful, Oonah! Five stars.
November 15th, 2009 at 8:46 am
I’m not sure I get it. There’s that seventy years in there, what was taking place at the start of that seventy years and what was taking place “now”? And why was he “going to die anyway,” just because he was ninety years old, or is there some other reason we arenot being told? Nice prose, but difficult to figure out what’s happening.
November 15th, 2009 at 8:54 am
This was a nice piece. Well written. A little slip in that ‘he smelled tarred rope’, ‘as he struggled to be noticed, the rope tightened’, then– ‘He fought against black tendrils of wiry weed’. Also, he’s catching scents underwater, ‘tarred rope’, ‘a scent of fresh air and sea foam’– the problem is, when you hold your breath under water, you don’t really move any water through your nose to ’smell’ anything. So while smells add poetry to the piece, they take the reader out of the thick, confining reality of the diving experience (which is the basis of the story).
November 15th, 2009 at 9:21 am
Enjoyed this immensely. The writing is stellar, as expected. I had to read a second time to really grip the story, however the writing was so good that I didn’t mind that at all. Nicely done.
November 15th, 2009 at 9:27 am
Wonderfully scary and romantic at the same time. I wonder tho if you’re caught under water if perhaps panic might be more realistic. Well written if you don;t dwell on the reality.
November 15th, 2009 at 9:35 am
???
November 15th, 2009 at 9:57 am
True rapture of the deep! Loved this Oonah.
November 15th, 2009 at 10:51 am
I love this. I agree, it’s scary and romantic. Nicely rendered ending “wondered” again “whether his friends would miss him.”
November 15th, 2009 at 11:03 am
Mickey wrote: “I had to read a second time to really grip the story …” but this is just the kind of thing that bothers me. I feel that if I can’t understand the story on one reading, there’s something wrong. Mickey continued: “… the writing was so good that I didn’t mind that at all.” Sorry, I DO mind that. Beautiful prose that obscures what’s happening will always get a downcheck from me. I consider the STORY to be more important than the WRITING, the writing is just there to tell the story. (I know a lot of people here disagree wtih me, but I tell it the way **I** see it.)
November 15th, 2009 at 11:33 am
A great story Oonah.
November 15th, 2009 at 1:09 pm
The story caught me hook, line and sinker; I forwarded it to my friends.
November 15th, 2009 at 8:50 pm
I don’t know. I think it was well written, but didn’t particularly enjoy it. At first I thought Grant was a fish caught on a line.
November 15th, 2009 at 11:11 pm
Nice job!
November 16th, 2009 at 12:15 am
Have to agree with Rob–how did Grant smell anything underwater? Was that, perhaps, part of the magic? I wish this had been explained, Otherwise, an unforgettable story.
November 16th, 2009 at 12:32 am
Hi Oonah,
I liked the ‘other worldliness’ of this piece. You character is near death so I don’t find it so out of place that his senses are so screwed/heightened that he smells and tastes his surroundings, despite an inability to breathe.
Particularly liked some of the visual touches, the diving bird, the mermaid’s eyes. Though your protagonist is saved, that final sentence where he wonders if his friends will miss him, tells a lot about what hasn’t happened over the intervening seventy years.
Sad tale greatly enjoyed.
Cheers
November 16th, 2009 at 1:00 am
The smell factor jarred for me – I can see that it might be his imagination, or heightened sense, but something needs to convey that. But, other then that, I loved it.
November 16th, 2009 at 8:18 am
I enjoyed this one greatly. Of course, I don’t have his faith. Maybe the mermaid was on holiday, and now is home and won’t be there the second time. And besides, if I was him I could never have waited 70 years to go back. I’d have suited up and gone mermaid hunting a long time ago. Oh, probably he did. But the mermaid would hide except when absolutely needed. See, I’m still processing this one. Well done.
November 16th, 2009 at 9:15 am
An excellent story!
November 16th, 2009 at 6:06 pm
Great tactile details. This is how flash should be done. Very nice indeed. I’d read more of your work in a flash. :>)
November 19th, 2009 at 1:59 pm
Thank you to all for your comments. I think if you’re reading a story about ‘a mermaid’ it’s a fair assumption that this was a near death experience – you see, mermaids exist in the same way as smells under water do! So I don’t understand why those who have a problem with smell under water, don’t have any problem with the whole romantic concept. You can’t write a ‘real’ mermaid story. In any ‘real’ sense Grant is dealing with a second near death experience by revisiting a first one. I don’t know what he’s dying of either – he wouldn’t say