Rolling in the Deep Read Online Free PDF Page B

scientists seemed to enjoy so unnaturally much. A few, however, had been intended for the launching of small craft or diving expeditions. It was at one of those openings that the trio stopped. Teal was already there, and already out of her chair, sitting at the very edge of the opening that looked out on the water. She had shed her shirt, and was clad in nothing but a flesh-colored bikini top—and her tail, of course. Sea spray had coated the plastic scales, turning them into tiny, captive rainbows.
    “You look mythological,” said Jessica, engaging her wheelchair’s brake before hoisting herself out and slapping down onto the dock next to her friend.
    “So do you,” said Teal. Both giggled.
    “While we’re waiting for the rest of the troupe, do you mind telling me—and the camera—what made you decide to become professional mermaids?” The laughter stopped when Anne spoke. She felt briefly bad about that, but she had a job to do, and if it didn’t make her anyone’s favorite person, well. She could deal with it. “It’s an interesting career choice, you know?”
    “I always loved mermaids,” said Teal. “They’re beautiful, elegant, and unreal. I figured if I could make them a little more real, I would have done something good with my life.”
    “I had a friend who wanted me to go to a comic book convention with them,” said Jessica. “I kept pointing out that a woman in a wheelchair would stick out a little, and that I didn’t like being treated like an obstacle. I’d always loved mermaids. My friend suggested I dress as one. That way, if anyone stared, they’d be staring at my fins. I bought a second-hand tail from a burlesque performer I knew. I never looked back.”
    “We all have our reasons,” said a voice. Anne turned to see the purple-haired woman standing behind them, a red-scaled tail slung over her shoulder. The rest of the Blue Seas mermaids were arrayed on the deck around their leader, carrying or cradling their own tails. Most were in the same flesh-colored bikini tops as Teal. Some wore bike shorts; others wore bikini bottoms. All were barefoot.
    “Being a mermaid is a special calling,” continued the purple-haired woman, walking over and sitting down on the dock, where she began working her way into her tail. “We make the world more magical. Have you ever seen a kid at Disneyland meeting Mickey Mouse for the first time? That little asshole turns their world on its ear. Suddenly, anything is possible. Magnify that moment by ten, and you have a kid meeting their first mermaid. We do pool parties and aquarium fundraisers and the occasional water park event, and every time we put on our tails and put ourselves on display for a bunch of people who want us to be real, we’re dragging the human race a little closer to remembering what it’s like to believe in happy endings.”
    “That sounds rehearsed,” said Anne.
    “It sort of is,” said the purple-haired woman. “We’ve all had to tell our families what we do for a living, remember?”
    Anne, who had been cornered by a drunken cousin at the last family Christmas and grilled for the better part of an hour on what it meant to be a “professional personality,” grimaced. “I think I understand.”
    “Good,” said the purple-haired woman. “Now, you may want to stand back for this one.” She lifted her butt off the deck, pulling the back of her tail into position. The sides were snug enough that they left no room between themselves and her skin, but not so snug that they dug into her body; with just a few small adjustments and the addition of a piece of polystyrene, she had gone from a punkish, ordinary woman to something out of a story.
    “’scuse me,” said another of the women, shouldering past Kevin to drape a rope ladder off the side of the boat. She, like all the others, moved with calm efficiency. Seeing Anne’s curious look, she said, “Mermaids can’t fly, honey. We have to get ourselves out of the water