Sirene (Wattys 2014 Entrant)
Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Oceana, I have heard some rather disturbing reports about you.”

Oceana squirmed in her seat. It wasn’t really the tone of Miss Morgan’s voice, or her stern eyes peering over the rim of her glasses that made the little girl so restless. It was the knowledge that Miss Morgan was in charge and Oceana was bound to obey her. It was the fact that anything and everything she did was reported to this lady who was always dressed in grey with her hair gathered in a tight bun and glasses resting on her nose.

“It seems you have no respect for the rules and the way things are run here. What is this I hear about you telling wild stories to the rest of the girls?”

“It wasn’t a wild story, ma’am. There was nothing wild in it, only sea kings and mermaids and sailors.”

“I don’t know where and when you managed to fill you head with such rubbish, but you must not going spreading it around to others.”

“But Cassandra was crying and I needed to get her to stop, and it worked. I really don’t see why all of you have such a big problem with it. The ‘wild story’ as you called it, did more good than anything else anyone tried. The goal was met, the job was done, does it really matter what means were used to get to it?”

“Oceana! In all my life I’ve never seen such a child as you are.”

“And never will again, I fancy,” Oceana beamed. “I’m one of a kind.”

 “One of a kind indeed!” Miss Morgan mumbled under her breath, then turned her attention back to Oceana. “It is not just you distracting the girls from important things; I have received reports of bad behavior and disrespect for your elders. This is totally unacceptable.”

“Anything and everything in this place is said to be totally unacceptable. Take a look around and you would think we are in the army. I don’t understand why you force us girls to live under such a regime.”

“Good heavens, child, have you never been taught the meaning of the word ‘discipline’?!”

“D-I-S-C-I-P-L-I-N-E.” Oceana spelled the word out in a droll voice. “Meaning strict control to enforce obedience, self-control and orderly conduct; treatment that corrects and punishes. Comes from the Latin ‘disciplina’.”

Miss Morgan took off her glasses and just stared at the child sitting in front of her.

Oceana wasn't quite finished yet. “It is obvious you have never been taught the meaning of the word ‘boring’, because that would be the word I would use to describe this entire asylum. We spend day in and day out in classrooms and are hardly allowed to go outside. There is an entire world out there waiting to be discovered and we’re locked up in a…in a…in a…” Oceana searched for the right word, “in a chicken coop!"

“You have never had enough experience of the real world to know these walls keep you safe. If I let you out there you will only get into harm’s way. Trust me, Oceana, you will be alone and miserable.”

“Maybe you have never actually left the walls of this orphan asylum, so you don’t know what sort of a world is out there and that makes you are afraid to let us out. But I have been there, I have seen the sights and sounds and…”

“I have had enough of this!” Miss Morgan stood up and glared at Oceana, “I don’t know who…or what raised you but is quite obvious that manners and respect for elders were not a part of your upbringing. I find it of the utmost importance that these two things be taught to you. Along with the proper meaning of the word discipline, not as a noun, but as a verb. You, little Miss, have been very rude, not to mention ungrateful, and I find no other resort than to punish you. Go to the bedroom and stay there until bedtime. There will be no supper for you, is that clear?”

“No supper?” Oceana was unpleasantly surprised. “But I shall be very hungry. This is terribly unfair!”

“I hope you will think twice before you say anything quite as rude as the things you have just spoken to me. Be glad that I am letting you get away with just missing supper. Next time I assure you the punishment will be a lot more severe. Now, off with you!”

“But, missing supper…” Oceana couldn’t believe she was going to skip her meal.

“You heard me, off with you. Go straight to your dorm and may I not see you come out of there till tomorrow morning.” Miss Morgan marched over to the door and opened it. Oceana slowly got out of her seat and walked out, quite stunned with the way the whole meeting had gone.

***

“Poor Oceana, you really brought all this on yourself you know,” Beth soothed and chided her friend all at the same time.

“That crabby old lady, she has obviously got no imagination at all. Wild stories, rubbish, how dare she call my story such horrid names?”

“You have got to learn to follow the rules, Oceana, that’s just the way it is.”

“Is there anything in the rules that forbids a girl to tell a story?”

“Oceana, Oceana,” Cassandra came running in, followed by a few other girls. “Here, we brought you something!” Carefully she pulled out of the pocket of her apron a breadroll. “We had rolls today for dinner, I snuck mine into my pocket, so did Christine.” The girls, obviously very pleased with themselves, handed over the food to an equally delighted Oceana.

“Girls, that was against the rules,” Beth was glad that Oceana had some food, but still felt it her duty to reproach the girls.

“Ah, rules are only there so we can break them,” Oceana replied.

“Oceana!” Beth was truly shocked. “You must not say such things. Rules are there to protect us, they are there to be obeyed.”

“Can we not argue about what rules are for,” Cassandra sat down next to Oceana. “We want to hear the rest of the story.”

“Yes,” Christine nodded her head. “Tell us what happened to the mermaid and the sailor.”

“Alright, alright, let me finish my meal and I’ll tell you what happened to them.”

By the time Oceana had finished eating, about twenty girls had gathered in the dorm to hear the rest of the story.

“So, where had I left off?”

“The sailor had just asked the mermaid to come and visit him the next day and she said she wouldn’t promise him anything and jumped back into the water,” Cassandra blurted out all in one breath.

“I love a girl with a good memory. Right, well, the next day the mermaid found that she couldn’t keep away from seeing the sailor and so that evening she went to see him. After that they saw each other more and more, and their love grew deeper and deeper, till they could hardy bear to be apart.

One day the sailor took her hand and spoke in a gentle voice, “I love you more than life itself, surely you must know that. I have thought this over a long time and have finally found the courage to ask you. Would you be willing to leave behind the world you know; the world of the sea and come and live here on the land with me as my wife?”

 Without even a second thought, the mermaid answered with joy in her voice, “Yes, a thousand times yes.”

And so she left the waves and water, departed from her father and sisters and was married to the sailor whom she loved so dearly.

Sadly theirs was not destined to be a happy story. Unknown to both of them, the youngest daughter of the sea king had also seen the sailor and had also fallen in love with him. That very day, she had gone to the shores to catch a glimpse of him and had witnessed the entire proposal. Her sister had gotten to him before she had. Feelings of jealousy, hate and anger towards her elder sister rose up strongly in the breast of the youngest daughter and she set about plotting a plan of revenge and ruin.

Only a few months after the wedding, the sailor had to go to sea. When the voyage was nearing its end, and the ship was sailing back towards home, the youngest daughter of the king sat upon the sharp rocks and sang out in the voice of her sister. The sailor, overjoyed that his love had come to meet him, followed the voice and was destroyed along with the ship among the sharp rocks.

However, the youngest sister made sure that there was one survivor who brought back the news of the wreck and ruin of the ship. The mermaid, who was with child, became hated and despised. Everyone thought it was her who had destroyed the ship and killed the sailor and the rest of the crew. The mermaid had no choice but to flee the village in order to save her life and the life of the child inside her. Having nowhere on land to go, she had only one option and that was to return to the sea."

“But how could she return to the water? Didn’t she have to give up being a mermaid to live on land?” Shirley cut in.

“She still had her pearl, so of course she could go back.” Oceana was obviously annoyed with the interruption.

“What pearl?”

“Didn’t I tell…oh, Miss Grey interrupting the story yesterday made me completely forget. Every inhabitant of the sea kingdom is born with a while pearl. This pearl is what enables them to live in under the sea. As long as the pearl is whole, they can live in the water, destroy the pearl and you close from them the ability to ever live there again. They guard these pearls jealously, for once destroyed, it can never be replaced. When the mermaid had left the water and gone to live on land, she had kept her pearl, and it was thanks to this she was able to return to her life in the water.

Yet even the sea did not provide her sanctuary. She had broken all the laws of the sea kingdom. She had rescued a human and then had left the waters to become his wife. The mermaid was driven from the sea kingdom and left to fend for herself. Presently she gave birth to her child, a little girl. She did her best to go on but her health began fading fast. The grief on losing her husband mixed with fatigue and a difficult life wore away at her until she knew that she would not go on much longer. But she had to make sure her baby would be safe. Her greatest fear was that the child’s grandfather would get a hold of the child after the death of the mother. A half-breed was a half-breed, and with a desire for revenge, the Sea King would no doubt enslave his granddaughter and treat her with cruelty and contempt.  In a desperate attempt to ensure her daughter would never have to work for the Sea King, the mother took her daughter’s pearl and destroyed it, thus cutting off from the child the possibility to ever live in the underwater kingdom. Then with her last strength, she gave the child one memory of her mermaid heritage, a seaweed band on she hung a shell from the underwater kingdom, a lock of her own hair and a scrap of the wreck on which the child’s father had perished. Wrapping the necklace and the baby in a rough blanket, she placed her child in a boat and begged the wind and water to take her daughter to the safety of the shore. After she had completed this task the mermaid breathed her last breath and died.”

Silence engulfed the entire dorm as the girls sat wide eyed.

“That has got to be the saddest story I have ever heard.” Christine said.

“But wait, this can’t be the end.” Cassandra put in. “What happened to the daughter of the mermaid and the sailor. Did the wind and water carry her somewhere safe?”

A mysterious smile appeared on Oceana’s face. “Do you really want to find out what happened to the daughter?”

“YES!” The girls chorused.

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, just get on with the story.” Shirley poked her.

“No need to get violent, Shirley.” Oceana gave a quick glance at the door to make sure Miss Grey wasn’t coming and then turned back to her waiting audience.

“Now the time has come for us to move from the shores of France to the rocky shores of Southern Ireland.”

“Wait, the daughter?”

“DON’T interrupt Shirley. Exercise some patience. We’ll get to the daughter. Think of this as the beginning of the second chapter where the scene changes. Don’t you know anything about the art of storytelling?

On the rocky, forgotten shores of Ireland, a boat stood anchored in one of the coves. Two men were standing on the land by a rowboat busy unloading the cargo from the boat to the shore. The work complete, one of them stretched his sore muscles and gazed out towards the open sea. Something in the distance caught his attention.

“Chandler, there is somethin' comin' in our direction.” He nudged his partner.

“From land or sea?”

“Sea.”

Chandler glanced out into the waters. “It looks like a boat of some sort. What would you say, Callum?”

 “I’d say that *sam thing. It seems *tae be adrift. *th' win' *an' current agree the-day an' it is headin' straight in our direction. *Frae th' looks *ay it I’d say it was empty.”

“Probably some idiot forgot to tie his boat down and it slipped away from him.” Chandler said with a laugh and turned his attention back to his cargo. A minute later he straightened up and listened.

“Somethin’ the matter?” Callum asked.

Chandler motioned for him to be quiet as he turned, fully alert, back towards the sea and the boat coming nearer to them.

“Do you hear that?” he asked Callum at last.

“Hear *whit?” Callum strained his ears.

“That.” Chandler replied, “I swear I hear some sort of pitiful noises. I think it’s coming from that boat.”

“Chandler, ye had *tay much wine yesterday..” Callum shook his head. “Either that, or yoo’ve *bin at sea for so long yoo’re beginnin' to hear things.”

“Callum, it is a well known fact that my hearing is twice as sharp as yours. You’re deaf as a doorknob when it comes to hearing anything louder than a shout.”

“Now that’s gettin’ rude.” Callum retorted.

“Come, help me try and retrieve the boat,” Chandler said, walking to the rocky shore. “It is heading in our direction and with little effort and I think we will be able to pull it in.”

Callum grumbled, but afraid that Chandler in his eagerness to retrieve the dumb boat, might fall over into the sea and hurt himself, grabbed a rope and ran over to help him. Together they pulled the boat and peeked inside. Their eye widened and neither said anything for the span of a few minutes. At last Callum broke the silence.

“*Weel, Chandler, whit do ye say to 'at?”

“I say it’s a baby.”

“What a coincidence, I was going to say th’ same thing.”

And a baby it was. A little thing wrapped up in a blanket of sorts lay at the bottom of the boat. The baby seemed to be asleep, for it lay with its eyes shut as the boat rocked to and fro, but it would moan and whimper from time to time.

“I guess the first thing to be done is get it out of there.” Chandler stated. With some help from his partner Chandler lowered himself into the boat and took the child in his arms

“Is there anythin' else in th' boat?” Callum asked.

“Nope, it’s just the baby.”

Callum shook his head in bewilderment, reaching over he took the infant as Chandler handed it over to him.

“So that’s it, a *bairn in a *boss boat.”

The baby, upon hearing strange voices and being held in strange hands, woke up and wept in a frightened voice.

“*Och *stoatin.” Callum groaned. “Now what?”

Chandler took the child from Callum and it in his arms whispering to it softly in French. The effect he had on the baby was good and soon the child calmed down and opening its eyes took a look at the surroundings

 “Take a look at those eyes.” Chandler said. “They are like two big giant emeralds. Where did you get such lovely eyes? She’s got such smooth ivory skin; nothing at all like that wrinkly red stuff that usually covers babies. She’s a beautiful child.”

“How do ye *ken it’s a she?” Callum grunted, eying the child with suspicion.

“Because she has female eyes.”

“Chandler, Chandler.”

“I’m serious. Look, I know women better than you, and I know what sort of eyes they are supposed to have. Take my word for it.”

Callum smirked.

“You want to check?” Chandler handed the baby to Callum.

“No thank you.” Callum took a step back.

“What’s the matter with you? She’s just a baby. Are you scared of her?”

“Of coorse I’m not scared. But I *dinnae ken whose bairn it…whose bairn she is an' I dinnae ken where it…where she *cam from, an' so I would rather not tooch it…her.”

 “There’s something very mystical about her, wouldn’t you say?” Chandler went with his observation of the baby. “She’s nothing like your average human child. I’m mean, those eyes, and the features of her face. I’ve seen plenty of babies in my time and none of them have been as perfect as this one. It’s almost as though there is something unhuman about her.”

“Unhuman abit her?”

“Yes, unhuman. Oh, wait a moment.” Chandler suddenly felt something hard. “There’s something wrapped up with the baby. Callum, take a look at this, it’s a necklace of some sort.”

“A necklace?” Callum pulled the thing out of Chandler’s hands. “Looks like it’s made out of some kin' ay seaweed. There’s a shell attached to it, an' a scrap of wood an' …”

“And a lock of hair.” Chandler finished the sentence. “The lock is obviously not the baby’s hair. The child has an auburn tint, the lock on the band is the color of molten gold.”

The two men stood in silence for a while, contemplating the whole mystery that had just fallen into their laps. At last Callum spoke up. “We should probably deliver th' bairn to th' authorities. Ye ken, *hae her placed in some sort ay orphan asylum.”

“Callum.” Chandler’s voice became firm. “Don’t make yourself my new definition of a fool and an idiot combined. How could you want to place our baby in an orphan asylum of all the terrible places?”

“OUR BABY?”

 “Oh what is the matter with you? How can you not want to keep her? Look at her, she’s beauty and frailty and tenderness all joined into one; a drop of moonbeam that by accident has fallen from the heavens.”

“Ye ken whit?” Callum grumbled at Chandler’s poetic statement. “Yoo're pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic.” Chandler shot back. “Apart from having all the brains, I’ve also got an imagination. All you have is a sad past and a bad future.”

“*Thenk ye *fur summin' up my life in such a concise manner.” Callum retorted. “Chandler, fur mercy’s sake be reasonable.”

“Reasonable, if I were reasonable do you think I would have one hundred pounds worth of smuggled goods in my ship?”

“YOUR ship? Last I looked it was our ship.”

“Oh, that’s not the point I was trying to make.”

Callum grit his teeth. “Alright, fine, how do ye plan to *swatch *efter her? Bachelur that ye are, ye ken nothin' *abit bairns.”

“What’s there to know?” Chandler remarked with a careless shrug.

Callum shook his head, as a professional does when an amateur boasts about something he knows nothing about.

“Anyway, you are the specialist here,” Chandler looked over at his partner. “So between my inspiration and your experience, we’ll raise her just fine.”

“An' since when did I sign up to this a *bampot idea?”

“Since I signed you up.” Chandler replied in his usual careless manner. “The first thing to do is come up with a name for her. We pulled her out of the water and since the water is where she came from we shall call her…”

“Moses is a boy’s name.” Callum interrupted.

Chandler rolled his eyes and glared at Callum. “We pulled her out of the ocean,” he started again. “And since the ocean is where she is from, so we shall call her Oceana.”

***********************************************************************************

Painting on right is Smuggler's Cove by Frederick Judd Waugh

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