A Ripple No One Would See
by willie



The ocean was uncharacteristically calm for a midsummer day; the surface of the deep blue water so still that Tom sensed something wasn't right. Or maybe it was the quiet that put him at unease. He reeled in his line to check his bait, not that he thought it would be gone. He hadn't felt barely a nibble all morning. Tom reeled in his line in an attempt to take his mind off the serenity that was bothering him.

After seeing his white strip of squid dangling off the end of his line, Tom lowered his bait back into the water and let the tide pull it away from the boat. Tom looked over at Pete to see if Pete looked at all concerned with the sudden calmness of the sea. Pete sat motionless, with his rod laying loosely on his lap and his line disappearing over the stern. He was staring mindlessly at the blue horizon in the direction they had come like a child staring at a TV screen. It looked to Tom like, at that moment in time anyway, Pete didn't have a care in the world.

Tom looked toward the bow of the boat where Paul was trying his luck. Paul looked back grinning and shrugged his shoulders. He too seemed unfazed. Mark, behind Tom on the other side of the deck, was sound asleep in a chair with his feet up on the side of the boat. His rod stood stiffly out of a rod holder. He obviously wasn't bothered by the calmness of the sparkling blue water surrounding their boat either.

Tom and his three fishing buddies were about thirty miles southeast of Key Largo, Florida. They had rented a twenty five foot Grady White and headed out into the crystal clear waters at the crack of dawn. The name of the boat, "Mermaid", stood out in dark blue against the white of the stern.

"How can we go wrong with a boat named Mermaid", Pete had said when they first boarded her. In fact, all four men felt lucky as they left the harbor. They talked about mermaids the entire two hour trip out to the fishing spot Tom had been told about.

"So if we do see a mermaid", Pete had postulated, "What do we do with her?"

"We drag her onto the boat and fuck her brains out", Paul said quickly. "And I get first crack."

"You are a crack", Tom said to Paul from his spot behind the wheel. Tom had the most experience fishing of the four. His parents owned a house in Ocean City, Maryland and Tom spent many hours in their twenty two foot Mako trying to pull in sea trout or dolphin or whatever would take their bait. Tom was also the one who was given the coordinates of a sure bet place to catch fish. A grizzly old ex-fisherman had written them down on a napkin in a local bar the previous night.

Tom and his three friends had been drinking heavily and harassing the women in the bar, like they had been doing since they arrived on their week long vacation and would probably be doing up until the moment they left, when Tom had sat down next to the old man at the end of the bar. Paul and Mark, who incidentally were brothers two years apart, had been laughing at the old geezer earlier in the evening. Tom was sure he had heard their remarks, but the straggly gray haired man didn't seem bothered.

"You boys aren't from round here", the old man had said in a voice ruined by years of yelling over the howling winds and churning seas of his past.

"We're from Maryland", Tom answered. "Sorry about my friends." Pete was down on one knee in front of a blonde. "We all have high pressure jobs and they're just blowing off a little steam."

The old man nodded. "Done any fishing?" he asked.

"Not yet, but we are going out tomorrow", Tom had answered. The old man from the sea then gave Tom a lecture about the dangers of the ocean and how it was filled with giant creatures that were just waiting for inexperienced victims. Tom only listened with one ear. The other ear was tuned toward the young lady who was shooting Pete down. The old man finished his sermon and awarded Tom the coordinates to the fishing hole they had headed toward.

"I don't know if you can fuck a mermaid", Mark said to Paul in response to his statement as the boat headed south east. "I don't think mermaids have pussies."

"They must", answered Paul. "How else can they reproduce?"

"They don't reproduce, moron. Didn't Dad teach you anything? Mermaids live forever. They don't need to reproduce."

"Do they eat?" Paul asked.

"Of course they eat."

"Then do they shit?"

Mark nodded.

"Well then they must have an asshole, right?"

"I don't know. I guess so", Mark answered.

"Then we'll fuck her up the ass", Paul laughed.

This time Mark rolled his eyes.

"And we can make her blow us", Pete added. "Every mermaid I've ever seen had big beautiful juicy lips."

"You guys are too much", said Tom as he read the compass. He had programmed the exact coordinates into the loran but he still had to concentrate on what he was doing if he was going to find the magical spot. He did an admiral job navigating through the choppy sea of the morning hours. When he reached his destination, the loran sounded three short beeps telling Tom and his goofy friends that they had indeed reached the hole.

As the four novices first threw their lines overboard, the churning sea rocked the boat vigorously. Now, three hours later with the sun directly overhead, the boat was as still as the "Minnow" after it washed up on its tiny dessert isle. He knew they were in deep water. How deep? He didn't know. The depth finder stopped working twenty minutes before the loran sounded; it's sonar lost somewhere in the depths of this strange part of the ocean.

As Tom peered down into the murky depths trying to get a handle on why the ocean was so calm, he got to thinking about mermaids himself. What if there was such a thing as a mermaid? If mermaids did exist, they would have to live this far out in the ocean where they'd be safe from mankind. Since they breathed air, they'd have to live close to the surface. Would they be free spirits and swim endlessly searching for food, or would they live in under sea villages growing food and raising fish to eat?

Tom wondered what would happen to a mermaid's tail if she was taken from the water. Would it dry out and shrivel up, or would it turn into legs and feet like in the movie with Darryl Hannah? He too wondered if they'd have the same female organs as a woman. He pictured himself nude, arms entwined with a beautiful mermaid, her long dark hair flowing out around her head like the tentacles of an urchin. He pictured her long green tail wrapping itself around his legs as they found bliss in an enchanted under water world. He needed no air to breathe. His lungs were kept happy as long as their lips remained locked.

Tom snapped out of it when he saw a huge shadow, underneath the water, move rapidly past the section of the Caribbean he was day dreaming into. His eyes did a double take. He looked again but what he saw was gone, if he even saw it at all. Tom began to slowly reel in his line as he looked into the water again.

Tom's empty hook was just coming out of the water when Tom saw the shadow again. This time it was definitely there and it was huge. It's size dwarfed the size of their rented boat. Tom instantly thought of Roy Scheider in the original JAWS movie saying, "I think we need a bigger boat."

Tom's fishing pole landed with a thunk as he dropped it onto the deck. The shape he was watching was well below them in the murky depths. He wanted to do another double take but his neck wouldn't move. He wanted to yell to his friends to look but his mouth was frozen also. The object, what ever it was, came to a halt in the depths below them.

Tom, who unknowingly had stood up and was bending over the side of the boat, gazed into the depths at a small part of the shadow that reflected some light. As he focused through the blue water, the shiny object took the shape of an eye, an eye that was staring upward at Tom.

Tom saw the eye and knew it was an eye. He didn't know what it was the eye of, but as sure as the boat he and his friends were in, it was an eye. He guessed it to be about thirty feet below the surface and more than a foot wide. His first instinct told him there was a whale under the boat and he should tell the others to brace themselves in case its tail bumped them, but the eye looking back at him was not the eye of a whale. It was the eye of a person. It was the eye of a woman. Maybe it was the eye of a mermaid. If it was, the mermaid was gigantic.

No books or fables ever actually said what size a mermaid was. For all Tom knew, a mermaid could be the size of a blue whale. Tom was convinced he was making eye contact with a one hundred foot tall mermaid. That's when he felt his mind being probed. The giant eye was inside his head, reading his thoughts. It didn't just read what he was thinking now. It read his memory of the entire day. It read his waking in the morning. It read the dream he had just prior to waking; a dream about a beauty he had met two nights ago. It read the launching of the boat and it even read the conversation his friends had on the way to the fishing hole. Tom didn't even remember most of what the other three had said, but the giant eye pulled it out of him anyway.

Tom felt his mind leaving his body along with his memories. He felt his body lean further forward over the warm water. His Adidas were loosing their traction on the slippery deck. Tom's whole body was about to be pulled into the depths along with his mind. He was loosing the one sided battle when he felt something on a part of his body he no longer remembered he had. In an instant his mind rejoined his head. He fell backward and landed on the hot deck.

Tom's head smacked the hard fiberglass and his eyes shot wide open. Pete still had his hands on Tom's right arm and Mark still had his fingers wrapped around Tom's left.

"Jesus Tom. What the fuck", Mark yelled at Tom. "You almost fell the fuck overboard."

"You almost jumped the fuck overboard", Pete added. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Me too", Paul added as he jumped to the deck.

Tom didn't answer right away. He shook off the cobwebs and attempted to get back onto his feet. His friends helped him up and Tom immediately looked over the edge of the boat again. What ever was down there seconds ago was now gone.

"Not again", Mark said still holding onto Tom's arm.

Tom looked from the water to Mark and said in a stoned voice, "We need to get out of here now."

"What's wrong", Mark and Paul said in unison.

Tom didn't answer. He pulled free of Mark's grip and turned toward the console where he quickly turned the starboard key. The Yamaha on that side of the boat jumped to life shattering the glasslike surface of the sea. Tom put the boat in gear and pushed the throttle. The boat lurched forward. Tom then started the port engine and put it in gear. "There's something down there", Tom finally said to his friends. "Something huge."

Before any of them could ask what it was, both motors came to a grinding halt. Pete, Paul, and Mark all fell forward as the boat abruptly stopped. "Oh god", Tom yelled. He was holding onto the steering wheel for dear life so he was still on his feet. He tried to restart the engines. Only the port engine started but it was taking them nowhere. It had a broken propeller shaft.

"Will you please tell us what is going on?" Pete asked with fleeing patience as he regained his footing. The boat's forward momentum was coming to a stop returning the surface of the ocean to its calm again. Only the whitened trail of the boat's wake remained.

"What is down there and what happened to the motors?" Paul screamed. Again, Tom didn't answer. Instead he looked out into the water. His three comrades stood beside him and tried to follow his gaze. What they saw was a single ripple flowing out in a circular pattern from a point about thirty feet off the side of the boat. At the point of origin of the ripple was something standing out of the tranquil sea that looked like the blade of a shovel, a white shovel.

"What the...", came from Mark's mouth as his jaw fell open. Pete's followed suit. Paul's chin was already hanging somewhere near his flabby stomach.

"It's her hand", Tom mumbled as the thing rose out of the water and became a finger. First one joint then the second joint came into view. The men were looking at the inside of a giant female forefinger. Its nail standing proudly above like a flag in a strong wind.

In front and slightly to the left of the finger emerged another nail. As the illusion continued its rise, the second nail turned into a thumb. Immediately to the finger's right, the tip of a knuckle broke the surface. To its right, a second knuckle appeared. Then moments later, a third followed.

It took about ten seconds in all, though no one was counting, for the entire female hand to rise out of the depths stopping just before the wrist of whomever it belonged to. When it finished its ascent, it froze in all its delicate grandeur for the men to gawk over. The tip of the nail that first broke the surface glistened well over ten feet above the surface of the water. The last three fingers were softly curled into the palm showing their own exquisite long nails. The massive thumb lay gently on the side of the middle finger relaxing.

The hand stood over the water motionless waiting for the men to react, but they only stood wide eyed and open mouth staring at its presence. It was a stand off. No one moved. No one noticed the stream running down Paul's legs or the puddle collecting around his docksides, not even Paul himself.

Pete was the first to pull his jaw up to his face and speak. "It's the most beautiful thing I ever saw", he gasped. "Whose hand is it and why is it so big?"

Tom wanted to answer but couldn't. He was too awed by its beauty and magnitude. Despite what he felt when he looked into the eye of its owner, he felt drawn toward its power like ancient sailors were drawn to the songs of the sirens. He felt like he was a fish attracted to a deadly lure. He didn't know it, but Pete and Mark were experiencing the same emotions. Paul on the other hand was scared shitless. He was about to say something when the stalemate abruptly ended.

All four men were standing up against the side of the boat, three were almost leaning over its edge when something caused the boat to roll sharply on its side. All four men fell overboard into the warm sea. Just as quickly as it rolled, the boat righted itself, and as the four swimmers were retaking the surface, the boat move away from them at break neck speed and came to rest the distance of a football field from their splashing whereabouts.

As an ex-lifeguard on the sunny sands of Ocean City, Tom was an excellent swimmer. Although his emotions had left the world of desire and lust and entered one of terror, he immediately looked around for his buddies. He saw Pete then Mark. Both were treading water and trying to regain their senses. Tom didn't have to search for Paul. Paul was screaming like a mad man and floundering badly. Tom instinctively began to swim in Paul's direction. He wanted to help Paul but he never made it to Paul's side.

Instantly the calm water began to churn. The gentle blue turned to agitated white. Tom and his fishing buddies began to move in a swirling circular motion. Like they were in a whirlpool they spun, moving dangerously further and further away from each other. Something large below them in the vast under world was separating their flailing bodies. Neither Pete, Mark, or Paul knew what it was. Tom, on the other giant hand, had no doubt what was causing the turbulence. He had looked into the eye of the beast and given up not just his thoughts, but the mindless thinking of his doomed friends.

Just as quickly as the ocean turned menacing, it softened. The whitecaps fell and the gentle calm returned. However the predicament of the four fisherman was by no means over. When the water came to rest, the men found themselves separated by thirty yards or more. Their attacker had managed to disable their boat, dump them overboard into her playing field, and quickly separate them for easy conquer.

Tom located his friends. He saw that Pete and Mark were still afloat, but when he looked in the direction Paul had headed, all Tom saw were a pair of waving arms. Paul had gone under for the third and final time. Or had he?

As Mark began yelling his brother's name and Tom began the long swim in Paul's direction, Paul began to rise out of the water. He was coughing and spewing sea water as his head then his chest came into view. His upward motion stopped when his waistline reached the surface of the water.

Paul's face was twisted in distress as he screamed. "My legs. Something's got my legs." He would have screamed more, but he was moved across the top of the water about fifty yards in only a couple of seconds by the beast that had a hold of him. A few seconds later he was back. Although Paul was quite a distance from him, Tom could read the utter terror on his long time friend's face. It was like Paul knew he was about to meet his maker.

Paul let out a final scream as he was quickly pulled downward and into the ocean never to be seen or heard again. Nothing was left of Paul but a single ripple that, like its creators life, slowly damped away to nothing as it dissipated outward.

Tom tore his eyes away from the vacant spot of ocean where Paul had been when his peripheral vision caught movement. He turned toward the direction of Mark and saw him hurtling into the air. "Yaaahhhh", Mark yelled as he descended back downwards landing with a hard splash and plowing beneath the surface of the water. Moments later, he resurfaced but only lied motionless on the wake of his own splash.

Tom heard a loud smacking sound as Mark's limp body flew upward for a second time. His arms and legs hung lifelessly as his body sailed through the air. Tom watched his now gone best friend's younger brother fly upward then downward. He saw the giant hand emerge from the water and pluck Mark from the air just before he hit the water for a second time.

As the giant female hand wrapped around Mark, Tom got a realization of its actual size. Mark was a big guy, easily six two. He barely filled the palm of the mermaid's hand. Tom saw Mark's eyes open seconds before the lovely fingers of the giant mermaid closed around him blocking his body from view. The hand sank into the ocean reducing Mark's life to yet another dying ripple.

"She must be a hundred feet tall", Pete called to Tom, "and she doesn't seem very nice." Tom admired Pete's calmness in a sure death situation. Tom looked in Pete's direction and gasped. Towering behind the unknowing Pete was that same giant hand. It was his turn.

Tom pointed, but it was too late. Before Pete could even react, he was wrapped in giant fingers. Unlike Mark, Pete got to savor his deadly predicament for a long minute before he was pulled to his doom. Not a single peep left Pete's mouth in the time the mermaid had him in her grip. Tom didn't know if Pete had resigned himself to his fate or if the thumb of the mermaid prevented his mouth from moving. Weighing the amount of time Pete had to scream, Tom picked the latter reason.

Tom was still treading water alone, long after Pete's ending ripple subsided. He knew the mermaid wasn't gone. She was just making him sweat. He was beyond afraid. After watching his friends taken like helpless mice by a nasty tomcat, he had little hope for his own survival. He was resigned to death and prayed it would come quickly, but still he waited, treading water and keeping himself afloat.

Tom was getting tired of the torturous wait and was preparing himself to breathe in a mouthful of water to end it all, not like he really wanted to do himself in but what choice did he have, when the water before him began to quake. As Tom watched the top of a light haired head peek above the water's surface, he realized quickly that he was about to meet his death face to face. The mermaid was lifting her face out of the water.

Tom had seen pictures of fantasy mermaids throughout his life. Every picture he remembered showed them as beautiful maidens. As the giant face rose out of the water before him, Tom realized not one of the pictures he remembered was accurate. Not one of the pictures he fantasized over came close to capturing the pure beauty that rose above the water.

Tom watched a head of light colored hair with a tinge of seawater green emerge from the water. The water rolled off the flowing strands like water off a duck leaving the mermaid's exposed hair as dry as autumn wheat. Tom saw olive colored skin, deep emerald eyes, a perfect nose bordered by high round cheek bones. No artist who ever lived could paint such perfection.

The fear Tom had been fighting for long minutes vanished as the entire face of the mermaid came into view. The terror was replaced by awe. The mermaids full face was less than twenty feet from his spot in the water. If Tom was standing on the water, the top of the mermaids head would have been three times higher than the top of Tom's head. Being that only Tom's head was above the water, the mermaid's face towered over him.

Looking straight ahead, Tom saw the mermaids smooth chin. It seemed to rest on the surface of the once again calm water. Looking slightly upward, Tom saw lips he could get lost in. Pete, bless his soul, had been right. Looking past perfectly shaped nostrils, Tom looked into large glowing eyes that saw right through him. Tom read his fate in those deep blue oracles.

Tom's attention dove downward to the magnificent lips almost in reaching distance as the mermaid spoke. "Well my tiny fisherman", she whispered. "It looks like you ventured into my waters".

Tom instantly knew what the legendary siren song was. It was the voice of the mermaid. Its tone permeated its way through his body and embraced his soul. The difference was Ulysses only heard the voice when he was chained to the mast. Tom saw the whole process, from the sensuously moving lips to the whipping tongue hiding behind them. Tom didn't know exactly what the fate of his buddies had been, but he knew what he wanted his fate to be.

"Calm down", the mermaid went on. "Soon enough you'll meet the same demise as your friends, But at the moment I'm full. I'm going to save you for later." In Tom's demented state, he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The sides of the mermaid's mouth turned up into a grin. Tom never in his very sexually active life ever saw such a seductive grin. "In the mean time", the mermaid continued, "We're going to have some fun. In answer to your fat but delicious friend's question, yes we do have a pussy. We also have an asshole. You my trespassing companion are about to definitely meet the former. You may even meet the latter if your friends lay in my stomach long enough. So what do you have to say to that?" she asked.

Tom didn't answer. What did he really have to say? He didn't have to look behind him to see the giant hand rising out of the deep blue water. He didn't need to. He felt it's presence. He felt its warmth wrap around him. He felt the warmth of the Caribbean fill the gaps as he went under for the last time. Only a ripple marked his grave; a ripple no one would see.



Two days later, the men were reported missing. Two weeks later a coast guard cutter found the missing Grady White. Of course, no one was found on board. The boat was inspected by the local authorities and a final report was posted. It concluded, due to the condition of the outboards and the four dropped fishing poles, three of which still had tattered remains of lines in the water, that the boat hit a submerged object such as a log and the men on board fell overboard into the water and drowned.

No one ever found out what really happened to the four men, although one old ex-fisherman had a pretty good idea. He saw it on the late news one night from his seat at the end of the bar. "Serves them right", he muttered to himself. He finished his beer and smiled. His debt to the magnificent maiden, who years ago spared his life, was paid.