"Part 2: ´Do you have a name?´" by M. Mockeridge

The merman was in a box of water that ended suddenly on four sides. Although he could see through it very clearly, what he had to see wasn’t very much. The room was very dark and nearly empty, with small shadowy lumps and mounds of things piled against the sides. His container was cramped, with only enough room for him to move a few feet on either side. The water was a bit too cold for his liking and the vibrating floor made him feel nauseous. But the only thing the merman was concerned about was the man in the golden pants, for he hadn’t seen him in nearly two hours.

Then, as if he had read his mind, a door opened on the far side of the room. Light poured in across the floor obscured by a tall thin figure holding a very large box. The man in the golden pants stumbled into the room and headed towards the merman. Before the door closed behind him he saw the back of another man whose red face was topped with a round black hat, and who sat on a chair playing with a wheel. The man set the box down on the moving floor and straightened back up with his hands on his hips.

“Goodness!” He said, “It’s quite dark in here, isn’t it?” He bent down again and rummaged in the box until he found what he was looking for. He fiddled around with whatever he had until, suddenly, light issued from the end of a long, white stick on a golden tray. He set this contraption on a shadowy pile to his left and sighed, “That’s better.” Normally the merman would be fascinated by this light stick, but instead he was focused on the now illuminated man and the mysterious contents of his box.

“Enjoying your new home?” the man asked. The merman fidgeted a little. “Ha! I thought not. Well, don’t worry, it’s only temporary.” He turned his attention back to the box. “Now, I don’t know what you eat... or if you even eat at all! And I can’t exactly look it up in a book, but I figure we should find out soon before you starve. How about...” he reached into the box, “a carrot?” He extended an orange cone-shaped object upwards.

The merman went to the where the water didn’t become solid and leaned out over the edge. He took the orange thing and eyed it closely before nibbling on the end. His face contorted in disgust and he thrust the object back into the man’s face. “I was never much of a vegetable man myself,” he laughed.

The merman then went through an assortment of odd foods which included a square, spongy thing that reminded him vaguely of sea foam, purple balls that squirted juice into his eye, and a smooth, white, oblong thing that he didn’t quite know how to handle. It ended up slipping through his fingers and smashing on the floor. He gave the man an apologetic look.

“That’s alright, we’ll clean it up.” He knelt back over the box and examined it’s remaining contents. He then made a very funny face. “Ah, this should do it.” He pulled out a headless fish. The merman gasped with delight and snatched the fish out of the man’s hands. He then flopped back into the water and devoured the fish, stripping away the meat with his teeth until he was left contently licking the bones. When he was done, the merman popped back up and handed the skeleton back to the man. He took it gingerly by the fin and dropped it back in the box.

“Do you have a name?” the man inquired. The merman answered with a puzzled look. “I’m Albert.” He held out his hand, “Albert Hillstock.”

The merman took Albert’s hand in one then both hands. It was soft and warm and dry. He had long fingers ending in finely polished nails. He then let go of his hand then reached for his face, touching it this time. He cupped his cheek in his palm. It too was soft and warm. He followed the curve of his face with one thumb, from his eye to his lips, which were now curved into a smile.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” whispered the man. “Possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen..” The merman smiled: He though Albert was beautiful too.