Sea Legs

Ernest perched on the porcelain dock, ready to set sail. The tide was out, hardly visible from his vantage point. Chatter from dispatch told him he would sail today, but not for hours. With a wheeze from water-weakened lungs, he sighed and slipped back into his memories.

His first voyage: the shock of the water temperature, far warmer than he expected. The thinnest slip of the currents, growing stronger as he ventured further into the deep. The screams of his fellow sailors in a storm; water pouring from a malevolent god. There were too many memories to count. Ernest wondered how many more voyages he had in him and if he’d know which would be his last.

Rushing water shook him from his reverie. The tides were changing, warm water rising just inches below the dock. He released a squeak of excitement as dispatch thrust him into the open sea. Bobbing along, he let the condensation drip over his rubbery skin, patchy and yellowed from his many voyages. It was utter bliss.

He heard a splash nearby. A bubbly voice greeted him. “Hi!”

Ernest rotated slowly, taking in the new recruit. It was a woman, far larger than he, with wavy blonde hair. Her eyes were the color of dusk, glittering like starlight. She splashed with ease, her tail adorned with shells, gemstones, and pink, yellow, and blue scales.

“You’re a mermaid?” he croaked.

“Yes! You can call me Rainbow,” she giggled.

The mermaid glided through the water, her smile unwavering. Ernest introduced himself and bobbed nearby. He didn’t want to look, but his eyes drifted her way. A new sailor was a bad omen.

“So, how do things usually go around here?” she asked. “We’re out in the water, so now we just wait?”

“We wait for Raney to arrive,” Ernest said.

Raney arrived, first with the temper and tyranny of a mid-winter storm and softening when she hit the water. Rainbow rejoiced, diving and swooping, splashing her tailfins this way and that. Raney reflected her joy with exuberant laughter and more than a few oversized waves. Ernest looked on, his beady eyes fixed on the pair. He knew from experience what came next, and he wasn’t inclined to warn this woman who sought to usurp his spot on the sea.

“Raney, no splashing,” dispatch scolded. “If you keep this up, we’ll send Rainbow back.”

The mermaid looked to Ernest with fearful eyes. “Please,” she burbled, half submerged. “I’m new, I didn’t know the rules.”

“It’s not as simple as it looks,” Ernest said. “Raney has her ways, but dispatch makes the rules. Keep the water off the docks, the volume to a minimum, and stay away from any maelstroms.”

Raney reached for Ernest and gave him a squeeze.

“You best be prepared for the other indignities,” he added with a groan.

Raney held him down.

Ernest felt his body expanding, filling with water. He wasn’t meant for this; he was designed to float on the surface. Luckily, this was not his first submersion. He knew how to handle himself: namely, don’t fight it, because Raney always has a plan.

Full to every nook and cranny, he broke the water, listing slightly. Raney gathered him in her palms again for another squeeze. He spat in a thin stream as she cackled with glee. Rainbow looked on, echoing the giggles.

“Your turn,” Ernest wheezed. The nightly dousing was hard on his vocal chords, and he hoped dispatch didn’t recognize the moldy quality of his innards.

Now it was the mermaid’s turn to suffer. To her credit, Rainbow’s smile never faltered as Raney doused the mermaid’s long, blonde tresses in caky soap. Ernest even saw her wink as the once-silky strands clumped together, dragging through the water.

“Well done,” he said as he and the mermaid returned to the docks.

Ernest and Rainbow lay helplessly on the porcelain surface while Raney had her hair washed. The pair listened to the cries and whines, which were mercifully short. Before long, both sailors returned to the sea.

“There’s just one more thing—” Ernest began, but it was too late.

Dispatch pulled the plug.

“Maelstrom!” he shouted.

Rainbow swam through the rapidly diminishing water, unaware of the perils that lay beneath the drain. Ernest bobbed as quickly as the currents would carry him, desperate to reach her. It may be his last day on the water, but it shouldn’t be her first and last.

He caught glimpses in the froth of bubbles. Fins, pink and yellow. A flash of hair. Ernest was naturally buoyant. He could not dive in after her.

The water slipped down the drain.

When all hope seemed lost, their plastic and rubber bumped together. They swirled in a dance of drowning before collapsing against the empty tub basin.

Ernest squeaked and gasped. Rainbow lay laughing. He was tempted to laugh with her.

While Raney was swaddled in a towel, he studied the new arrival. Even if this was his last bath, he felt confident that she would make a splash in every bath to come.

“Mommy, can a toy watch me sleep?”

They paddled to hear dispatch’s pronouncement.

“Sure, honey. But just one.”

Raney, now dressed in her bunny pajamas, leaned over the tub. A shadow crossed Ernest’s face. His squeaker leapt in anticipation.

The shadow cleared and he watched Rainbow’s gem-encrusted fins disappear behind the shower curtain.

Marinating in the remaining bubble bath, Ernest remembered a quote from his namesake: “Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what there is.” If his last bath was spent helping Rainbow find her sea legs, it was a worthy endeavor.

The shadow reappeared. Ernest was lifted from the tub. It wasn’t Raney who held him, but dispatch’s executive officer: Mommy. She carried him from the bathroom and down the hall before giving him a squeeze much stronger than Raney’s. He squeaked in delight.

Mommy brought him level with her eyes, peering through his tiny beak.

“Honey, I’m going to throw out Raney’s rubber ducky,” she announced to the other dispatch officer. “He’s full of mold. She has Rainbow now.”

Ernest fell from her hand. There was darkness.