"Part 1: A Fisherman´s Discovery" by M. Mockeridge

The fisherman didn’t believe his eyes at first. Long nights on empty waters and too many bottles of whiskey can make a man see strange things, after all. Just a trick of light, an overly large fish, his own reflection maybe. But when he woke up the next morning and stepped out onto the deck to get a whiff of fresh air, he knew his eyes couldn’t be tricking him.

Midway through scratching his bum he saw it, out wading in the water in front of his boat, eyeing him curiously. It was too fair to be male, but looked like no woman he had ever seen before and was, by no means, a human. It had a slick and narrow face with a pointy jaw, pointy nose and very high cheek bones. It’s eyes were flat and narrow. They shined like gold coins and had a glint of innocent determination. It’s mouth was thin and curved around it’s face like a jester’s. It’s skin was bluer that the clearest of skies and it’s slick, wet hair gleamed red in the morning sun. It had a slender, graceful body, with powerful scaled legs that glimmered beneath it the water, ending in what looked like fins. The gills on its long, beautiful neck quivered slightly in the breeze. It raised a long webbed hand from the water and parted it’s lips to reveal pointed, yellow teeth.

The fisherman had never seen anything so strange, yet so breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe the long and lonely nights at sea hand finally driven him mad, maybe not. But he was certain that this creature had to be real, because, crazy or not, he had no imagination, and, even the fanciest poet in the world couldn’t construct the being floating before him now. He quickly scrambled backwards on the deck, wary not to take his eyes off the creature, but desperate to find his net. He couldn’t let this go, not this, he just couldn’t. Alas, he blinked, and the creature had vanished, leaving only a soggy piece of paper in it’s place.

He fished it out using a small net on a very long stick. It was a flyer, ripped and wet, but still very readable, for a traveling circus. A man in golden pants and heavily rouged cheeks smiled broadly as he gestured towards a bearded woman astride a black bear with his striped cane. The curvy wording around the picture read: “Come one, come all to Albert Hillstock’s Traveling Circus! See all the wonders of the world under one tent.!”

Word spread fast about the fisherman’s mystical discovery, and skeptics were quickly silenced as the blue merman swam near the shore. He made no attempt to conceal himself, and came as close to the beach as he could and still tread water. The entire town filed out on the sands and docks, but, whether out of fright or awe, no one came close to the merman.

The merman happily waded up and down the shore, gazing at the people with as much interest as they gave him. He was fascinated by the lot of them. They came in so many shapes and sizes and colors, and they wore the funniest things. Sometimes he couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the sight of them. But none of them, he soon realized, was the man he was looking for.

He found the flyer that had drifted into the sea late last evening and it fascinated him to no end. He didn’t understand the funny loopy things on the picture (although, he quite enjoyed them, and spent nearly an hour tracing them with his finger). But what really caught his eye was the man in the golden pants. He didn’t know who the man was or what he thought was so special about him, but by the end of the night he had made up his mind that he would find him.

The merman was entertaining himself with a particularly large woman with fuzzy red hair that matched her fuzzy red coat when he heard a chorus of disgruntled shouts and saw a flash of gold in the corner of his eye. A man with heavily rouged cheeks and golden pants had broken through the crowd. The merman let out a shriek of joy and promptly fell back into the water. He emerged choking on a piece of seaweed to find the man striding to the end of what looked like half a rocky causeway with wooden planks laid over it. The merman hastily swam over to him and hoisted himself onto a smooth rocky ledge in front of the man in the golden pants.

It was him! It was really, truly him! His heart pounded within his chest as he struggled to contain his excitement. The man knelt and leaned in very close to examine the merman, so close that the merman could feel the man’s warm breath on his nose. The merman raised one webbed hand and extended it within millimeters of the man’s cheek. The man didn’t move back, flinch or make any noticeable recognition of the merman’s gesture. The merman pulled his hand back, unsure of whether or not he should touch him.

The man then fastened a collar around the merman’s neck. It was hard and a little heavy, smooth to the touch and it shone brightly in the sun. Attached was a long, silver chain than went up into the man’s hand. The merman thought it was very pretty and suddenly wished very badly that he had a gift to offer the man in the golden pants. But none of his possessions could even compare to this.

Together they would travel the world and see all it’s wonders, he could see it in the man’s eyes. With the man in the golden pants, all of his hopes and fantasies would come true.