Oysters guard their precious pearls, clasping them tight. But the first oyster was once a boy, touched by the beauty and magic of the ocean.
Jakara was out on the rocks amidst the tidepools, the high tide lapping hungrily at the stones. He had a pail half-full of fat crabs, clicking away angrily at him, when he heard the cries for help. Carefully, sure-footed, he clambered over the rocks and peered into the briny cave high above the kelp that bounded the upper limit of the waves. The light inside the cave was dim, but in the gloom something shone. A pearl rolled to a stop by Jakara’s bare foot.
The sound of sobbing drew him further into the cave, his bucket of precious crabs wedged tight between the rocks at the opening. As his eyes grew used to the dim light the vague lumpen shapes littering the floor resolved into rocks and something else. Someone else.
Jakara was a fisherman’s boy, and knew the value of flesh and scale. But his parents were kind folk, so he also knew the value of a life - and thus when the injured mermaid reached a shaking hand towards him, blood sluicing over its dark skin, Jakara saw only someone who needed his help.
With great care, Jakara helped staunch the bleeding. As he worked, he whispered to the mermaid to console them, and though his words echoed strangely in the shadows, his tone seemed to ease their tension. Great tears rolled down the mermaid’s cheeks, and as each one fell from the point of its chin it turned into a shimmering pearl that bounced away into the darkness.
When he was done, Jakara made to leave, but thin fingered hands clung to his sleeve and pulled him backwards. The mermaid sat with tail curled around itself, and with one hand pointed towards the mouth of the cave.
The mermaid clung to Jakara as he carried them out of the cave towards the lapping waves. As they came closer, the ocean reached towards the pair, stretching eager wavelets over the rocks.
With agonising slowness, for he was just a boy and the mermaid was heavy, Jakara inched closer to the ocean’s edge.
splash
The mermaid vanished into the water with a flick of their tail, the sea rising up to embrace its lost child. Jakara stared at the ripples for a moment, a small smile on his face and a warmth in his heart. As he turned away to retrieve his bucket, a dark hand shot out of the water and grabbed his ankle - the mermaid smiled up at him, revealing three rows of needle-sharp teeth. Its other hand emerged from the water, clutching something in a tight fist. Already, many of the wounds peppering its skin had closed and healed.
For a moment, Jakara paused, confused. Then he reached out a hand, and the mermaid dropped a single great pearl into his outstretched palm, before relinquishing its grip on him and vanishing into the waves.
Jakara clutched the iridescent orb close to his heart, feeling the warmth of it against his skin. Then he collected his crabs, and made his way home. All the pearls in the cave had melted into salty water - only Jakara’s pearl remained.
In the months that followed, when Jakara was out on that shore he would often hear a sharp trill, like the call of some inland bird - melodious and bright, not the harsh scream of a seabird. And from the waves, a familiar head would appear, and a thin arm wave like a fragile piece of flotsam tossed by the tides. Although they did not speak in words the other could understand, Jakara and the mermaid - whom Jakara named Dave - shared a kinship of sorts, and often chattered to one another to pass the time. Sometimes Jakara brought whittled trinkets and cooked food to share with Dave, and other days Dave would emerge from the depths carrying an exceptional crab covered in bristles, or a fish big enough to feed Jakara’s family for two meals.
Jakara appreciated every gift, and never once thought to ask any more of his friend.
But in the village there was a man who knew only greed and gold. He worked hard, for his son was ill and he needed the money, but he never seemed to have enough of anything to satisfy his own wants, and he had no friends in the village to whom he could turn for help. One day, he caught a glimpse of Dave by the shore, and in his covetousness saw only scale and flesh, not life.
Days and months passed, and Jakara caught not a single glimpse of Dave. His friend, it seemed, had left with the turning tides, and the shore seemed empty, and lonelier than ever.
Then, one day while walking through town, he heard a sound that didn’t belong. A landbird, too close to the water. Jakara followed the desperate trilling, and upon peering in a window beheld a most terrible sight.
His friend lay on the floor, wrapped in rope that cut deep into their desiccated flesh, eyes glazed and skin wan, tears streaming down their cheeks to crystallise as beautiful pearls that rolled across the rough wooden floor. The mermaid’s iridescent tail was flecked with blood, scales missing and torn away from the skin beneath. Next to Dave, the greedy man scrabbled across the boards, picking up handfuls of glistening pearls that turned to saltwater in his fingers and soaked into the sleeves of his shirt.
Jakara watched, knuckles white on the sill, as the greedy man cursed at his friend and kicked them viciously in the ribs. Pearls scattered across the floor, rolling under tables and chairs and cabinets.
In a black fury, the greedy man stormed from the house, slamming the door behind him.
As quick as he could, Jakara pulled the door open and slipped inside. Dave reached out to him with a sad warble.
Blood and brine made Jakara’s hands sticky and soaked into his shirt as he heaved the mermaid over his shoulders. Dave felt flimsy, as if they were made of flotsam washed high on the shore and dried by the fierce summer sun, but the mermaid was still twice as long as Jakara was tall, and heavy with it.
They had barely made it out the door, leaving a trail of pink pearls in their wake, when the shouting started. The greedy man’s son had woken from his fitful sleep, and was calling for his father.
Jakara went as fast as he could, every step sinking his feet deep into the mud and silt of the street. As they were rounding the corner, approaching the shore, the shouting changed. It grew fangs, became harsh and sharp as the greedy man began to yell. Jakara could hear his footsteps like wet thunder rumbling behind them. Getting closer.
The pair reached the stones of the shore. Jakara stumbled onwards, leaving a wake of crimson footprints and pearls stark against the dark stone. The tide was at low ebb, but reached towards its child and their rescuer.
Behind him, Jakara could hear the harsh breathing of the greedy man. Pearls bounced off his back with every ragged gasp of the mermaid over his shoulder.
He could smells the sea, feel its spray on his cheeks.
Hard fingers closed around Jakara’s upper arm.
They stumbled, fell. Feet from the sea, they sprawled on the sharp rocks, sobbing. Pearls and saltwater dripped and mingled as Jakara tried to shield his dear friend with his own body. Above them, the greedy man reached down.
Cool water brushed against Jakar’s ankle. Between the cracks in the rocks, the straining sea reached for its child, who lay just beyond its reach. Water rose, carrying thick dark silt that slithered across Jakara’s skin, and the greedy man’s fingers closed on hard shell rather than skin. The ocean had done what it could for the mermaid and their human friend. Unable to bring them safely to its embrace, its touch left behind not two children but a sturdy grey oyster, anchored fast to the rock and unopenable, and within its embrace a single, glistening pearl.
