Pitra

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The sea bubbled and roiled in appreciation of the show and often joined the choreography with its own ebb and flow. Sometimes the clouds would kiss the water, and the waves would laugh spraying mist into the sky, creating a rainbow of delight. It was plain to see that they all loved one another.

Pitra enjoyed watching them frolic as she walked in the wet sand. The surf caressed her toes with gentle touches that tickled and made her smile. It was an invitation to come and play with them. One she often received, and usually declined. But this night was different.

The soft breeze blew and moved like hands over her body and clothes as she lifted her gauzy shirt over her head. Excited like a lover, the wind's invisible fingers pulled and tugged at her skirt as it stroked her bare skin, giving her goosebumps. Naked, she stood there fondled by the wind until it turned with a gust and playfully pushed her forward into the open arms of the ocean.

Caught in the gentle embrace of warm water she stretched her body long and allowed her legs to join and become the tail she was born with.

Moving with the surge of small swells, she watched the sky change its mood from playful to intimate and don a cloak of starry black, exchanging its golden light for silver.

Relaxed by the waves she contemplated the last three hundred years of her life as an unseen daughter of air who helped mankind by doing good deeds. Her sentence completed, she was finally free. Then six months ago, she declined to pass through the gates of paradise, as was her reward, and asked instead for the human legs she so desperately wanted those many years ago.

But nothing was working out as she’d imagined. Granted a presence on the earthly plane, given a birth certificate, high school diploma, and a small bag of gold to get her started, she set out to live the life she wanted.

She settled in Miami because the water was warm, enrolled in college at Miami Dade, and got a part-time job at Bob’s Nursery. With a small apartment near the water, she should have been happy. Instead, she felt empty and frustrated.

The reality was that school was hard and the tests were brutal. She worried that a degree in horticulture was the wrong path, and considered changing majors. The job at the nursery was okay but didn’t pay well, which made her depend on student loans for rent and food, which racked up her debt; she hated debt. She didn’t have time to date, not that she was ready to, but she felt lonely. All of it felt so annoying and out of her control.

Did I make the right decision? she asked herself. The nearby waves lapped at the rocks clinking and tinkling as if they discussed her question amongst themselves. Maybe I should have gone to paradise instead of coming back to the earthly plane. Was this a mistake?

Her wet hand moved to her forehead and rubbed against the oncoming headache. Droplets of saltwater rolled down her arm onto her face and made her squint with every movement as she tried to relieve the pain.

With an irritated sigh her angst peaked and she dove with force under the inky water and swam hard to expel the pent-up frustration and worry. It felt good to use her tail--it’d been a long time and needed a good stretch of the fin.

Racing the wind, she leaped high out of the water and dove back down only to come back up and do it again. She felt powerful in that moment when she crested the water and became airborne; it was exhilarating. She craved this outing tonight. It relieved her heavy heart and reconnected her with home, the sea. It nourished her soul.

Her energy spent, she floated in the black expanse and pondered what she truly wanted out of life. A career? Riches? Those things were meaningless, she decided. What do I truly want, she wondered.

She stared up at the big bright moon and patiently waited for a responding thought to come in answer to her question. After several minutes passed, she slapped the water in exasperation and whispered out loud with the moon as her witness, “What do you want Pitra, what are you looking for?”

Unexpectedly she was compelled to whisper back an answer as if some spell was cast forcing her to speak. “I want love,” was her response.

Surprised by those words, she said with bravado, “NO, just no. I’m not doing that again. After everything I sacrificed, the prince just used me and married someone else. Then I spent the last three hundred years working as a daughter of air to pay for my breach of contract with the Sea Witch. Just no.”

She paused, hearing those words spoken out loud for the first time in over three hundred years, and pondered what she’d said.

After deliberating for some time it dawned on her that she participated in the making of her own story. Those were my choices to make, he didn’t ask for any of them. Sure he liked the attention, who wouldn’t? I pursued him, like one of those K-pop fan girls. Everything that happened to me was my own doing, no one made me any promises, it was just my wishful thinking. As this new understanding came, she felt mortified remembering all the stupid things she did to try to make the prince like her.

She felt icky and deflated. Her righteousness was gone. In its place was a true desire to discover what she wanted from this life. She looked up at the moon again and asked herself, “Is that really what you want?”

Again, the compulsion came, erupting from her like the Oracle at Delphi, “Yes. I want someone to hold me when I cry and tell me when I’m wrong. Someone to play with me and chase me. That is what I want,” she whispered.

Amazed by her involuntary outburst she took a moment to sit with the revelations, treating them like sacred messages from her soul. After several minutes she decided it was true. She did want those things.

A shy smile pulled at her lips at the thought of a lovers' chase and a giggle escaped at the idea of being caught. “Thank you,” she whispered up at the moon, suspecting it had something to do with her spontaneous admissions. While the moon never admitted involvement, it did seem to shine brighter at her gratitude.

Having received the answers she came for, Pitra headed back to shore feeling unburdened by her new understanding of herself, refocused, and ready to tackle life again.

A few feet onto dry sand, not far from where her clothes were laid, she noticed a large dark crumpled lump that wasn’t there before, resembling a stone.

After putting on her clothes, with the moon still big and bright, she walked toward the strange rock to inspect it.

Instead of a rock, Pitra discovered a huddled man dressed in an ancient Korean hanbok with bits of frost that clung to him in places, lying there unconscious.

Worried he was dead, she rolled him over and checked for a pulse. It was there beating strong and steady. Next, she checked for head injuries. With none found she brushed his raven hair away from his face and patted his cheek to rouse him.

He was very handsome and looked to be in his late twenties. His features were angular with a straight nose and full lips that drew her eye to linger there longer than she liked.

A couple of light slaps later, with a groan of discomfort, his face scrunched in annoyance and he opened his eyes. Pitra inhaled sharply. His eyes were the color of neon blue that glowed in the dim light of the moon. Framed in soot-colored lashes and thick eyebrows the color of pitch, they looked eerie; like the eyes of a Jeoseung, a Korean soul reaper, one of whom she’d briefly encountered as a daughter of air.

Scrambling away from him as quickly as possible, she got to her feet and started to run, scared he was a Jeoseung who wanted to reap her hard-earned soul.

“Gidaliseyo,” She heard him call out. Not understanding him, but knowing it was Korean, she was convinced that he was a Jeoseung and continued running down the beach towards the trail to the parking lot.

As she ran, the sand kept slipping under her bare feet, and it was hard to get traction. She was having difficulty getting anywhere quickly. “Naege dolawa!” she heard him call again, but this time it sounded closer like he was catching up to her.

Panicked, she changed course and ran towards the water hoping to evade him by swimming into the ocean, an element where few could match her speed. Stripping off her clothes as she ran, she was two steps from the water’s edge and naked when his arms wrapped around her and pulled her close.

Captured, Pitra fought. She thrashed about wildly and tried to connect her elbows and feet to his flesh with no success. He continued to hold her tight and lifted her off the ground making it harder for her to escape his grasp.

“Stop,” he said with slightly accented American English. “I’m not here to hurt you. Please, I don’t know why I'm here. I need your help.”

“Let me go then!” She yelled, scared of what might come next.

“I will if you promise not to swim away. Please!"

Relaxing her body, she didn't respond but stayed limp until her feet were back on the ground. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and she felt the length of his body pressed against her naked skin.

Unwilling to release her further without her assurance he asked, "How do I know you won't dive into the ocean and leave me when I let you go?"

"You don't," she responded. "But if you're not here to hurt me and need my help your best option is to let me go, or I'm not going to help you."

With that said, he released his hold on her, removed the outer coat of his hanbok, covered her naked form, and stepped away from her to give her space.

Surprised by his gesture, Pitra turned to face him and pulled his coat tight, ready to run to the ocean for safety if he made any sudden moves toward her.

"What are you?" She asked as she stared into his strikingly handsome face. His neon blue eyes still caused her concern.

"My name," he said pointedly, "is Yeomna, but you can call me Yeo."

"Are you a Jeoseung?"

A smile stretched across his full lips but didn't reach his eyes, making him look more predatory than helpless.

"No, I'm not a Jeoseung," he responded sounding slightly offended. "I am the king of hell. And you," he said with emphasis, "are a mermaid."

"What of it?" She said defensively.

"Nothing, nothing," he said waiving his hands in defense. "I'm simply pointing out that we are both supernatural creatures stuck on this earthly plane that could perhaps help each other out."

"Look, what do you want me to do? I'm standing here naked talking to a guy with creepy blue eyes that glow in the dark. I'm not in the mood to strike a bargain. Tell me what you want, and I'll tell you if I can help." She withheld the part about being here voluntarily, this creepy guy didn't need to know that.

"I have no money, my powers aren't working correctly and I need a place to stay until I can figure out why I'm here and get back to where I belong."

She felt less threatened by him, listening to his plight. She walked back to where her clothes were strewn about on the sand, picked them up, and put them on one by one under the cover of his coat. She put on her last article of clothing, removed his coat, and handed it to him. "Nope, can't help. Sorry." And she walked away.