Read Online Rolling in the Deep by Mira Grant - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mira Grant
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guilelessly at Anne, watching as the other woman’s cheeks slowly reddened. “Ah, I see. You mean ‘why are they always in their tails.’ Well, you may have noticed the wheelchairs.”
“I did,” Anne admitted.
“We’ve found—us as a collective troupe, and Teal and Jess individually—that people talk one way to a woman who doesn’t stand up because she’s a mermaid, and another way to a woman who doesn’t stand up because her legs are not quite up to factory standards,” said Sunnie, checking the seal on her hips as she spoke. “If you want to know more about their individual reasons for using those chairs, you can bring it up with them. As far as we’re concerned, they’re mermaids. If they’re mermaids who don’t walk, and who need a ramp at any venue that wants to hire us, that doesn’t change the most important thing about them.”
“Got it,” said Kevin. He paused before adding, “I think I’d like to talk to you—all of you—when this voyage is over. I think a documentary film about professional mermaids might be a nice thing. It wouldn’t cost much. I could maybe even sell it to Imagine as tie-in programming.”
Sunnie smiled. “I think we’d like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She couldn’t walk in her tail, but she could hop, and hop she did, until she came to the edge of the deck. Then she twisted around and fell backward off the Atargatis , dropping like a rock to the waiting ocean below. The rest of the mermaids followed her, some of them yipping or whooping as they fell, others just diving into the deep blue water. In less than a minute, Anne and Kevin were alone on the deck, and the waves were alive with brightly colored fins and the laughter of mermaids.
“I never figured you for a romantic,” said Anne, before yawning again.
Kevin kept aiming his camera at the water. “There’s nothing romantic about appreciating beauty.”
“It’s a bunch of women dressed up like mermaids,” said Anne. “Either you recognize it as make-believe on a grand scale, or you’re being a romantic.”
“What, so you’re not a romantic?” asked Kevin, taking his eye away from the viewfinder long enough to turn and look at her.
“Not before coffee,” said Anne, with another yawn. “Come on. Let’s go get breakfast before I’m expected to be perky.”
Kevin laughed, and followed her away down the deck.
The Pacific was cold, but that was what neoprene was for: the tails were weighted to provide their wearers with better marine buoyancy, but also to enable them to tolerate low temperatures for longer. The slimmer mermaids, like Teal and Andrea, would feel the need to get out of the water before their more well-padded comrades. They’d still be able to tolerate the cold better than someone in a normal swimming suit, and keeping their legs so well-insulated did a great deal to reduce the odds of hypothermia.
While all of them used the classic “mermaid kick” for primary locomotion, they each had their own style of swimming. Jessica mostly pulled herself along with her chest and shoulders, moving through the water like a large, colorful eel. Teal used a modified breaststroke, and was one of the fastest swimmers in the troupe. Her speed enabled her to do partial dolphin-lifts even in open water, and soon, most of the mermaids were emulating her, trying to copy the way she lifted her upper body out of the waves.
Sunnie hung back by the guide rope, watching the rest of the troupe frolic. Their morning exercises were mostly a matter of conditioning and preparation for the more intensive routines ahead. The man from Imagine clearly thought that they were just goofing off, and just as clearly didn’t understand what it meant to be a mermaid. If they didn’t practice here, where no one would see them, they would never be able to manage the dives and near-misses described by their contract.
Being a mermaid might seem like all fun and games, but it was a job like any
“I did,” Anne admitted.
“We’ve found—us as a collective troupe, and Teal and Jess individually—that people talk one way to a woman who doesn’t stand up because she’s a mermaid, and another way to a woman who doesn’t stand up because her legs are not quite up to factory standards,” said Sunnie, checking the seal on her hips as she spoke. “If you want to know more about their individual reasons for using those chairs, you can bring it up with them. As far as we’re concerned, they’re mermaids. If they’re mermaids who don’t walk, and who need a ramp at any venue that wants to hire us, that doesn’t change the most important thing about them.”
“Got it,” said Kevin. He paused before adding, “I think I’d like to talk to you—all of you—when this voyage is over. I think a documentary film about professional mermaids might be a nice thing. It wouldn’t cost much. I could maybe even sell it to Imagine as tie-in programming.”
Sunnie smiled. “I think we’d like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She couldn’t walk in her tail, but she could hop, and hop she did, until she came to the edge of the deck. Then she twisted around and fell backward off the Atargatis , dropping like a rock to the waiting ocean below. The rest of the mermaids followed her, some of them yipping or whooping as they fell, others just diving into the deep blue water. In less than a minute, Anne and Kevin were alone on the deck, and the waves were alive with brightly colored fins and the laughter of mermaids.
“I never figured you for a romantic,” said Anne, before yawning again.
Kevin kept aiming his camera at the water. “There’s nothing romantic about appreciating beauty.”
“It’s a bunch of women dressed up like mermaids,” said Anne. “Either you recognize it as make-believe on a grand scale, or you’re being a romantic.”
“What, so you’re not a romantic?” asked Kevin, taking his eye away from the viewfinder long enough to turn and look at her.
“Not before coffee,” said Anne, with another yawn. “Come on. Let’s go get breakfast before I’m expected to be perky.”
Kevin laughed, and followed her away down the deck.
The Pacific was cold, but that was what neoprene was for: the tails were weighted to provide their wearers with better marine buoyancy, but also to enable them to tolerate low temperatures for longer. The slimmer mermaids, like Teal and Andrea, would feel the need to get out of the water before their more well-padded comrades. They’d still be able to tolerate the cold better than someone in a normal swimming suit, and keeping their legs so well-insulated did a great deal to reduce the odds of hypothermia.
While all of them used the classic “mermaid kick” for primary locomotion, they each had their own style of swimming. Jessica mostly pulled herself along with her chest and shoulders, moving through the water like a large, colorful eel. Teal used a modified breaststroke, and was one of the fastest swimmers in the troupe. Her speed enabled her to do partial dolphin-lifts even in open water, and soon, most of the mermaids were emulating her, trying to copy the way she lifted her upper body out of the waves.
Sunnie hung back by the guide rope, watching the rest of the troupe frolic. Their morning exercises were mostly a matter of conditioning and preparation for the more intensive routines ahead. The man from Imagine clearly thought that they were just goofing off, and just as clearly didn’t understand what it meant to be a mermaid. If they didn’t practice here, where no one would see them, they would never be able to manage the dives and near-misses described by their contract.
Being a mermaid might seem like all fun and games, but it was a job like any
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