§ § § -- March 25, 2005

Roarke stared for several seconds at Leslie once she’d finished telling her tale; then his face cleared and he nodded slowly. “That may explain a great deal,” he said, half to himself. “I have been hearing a summons now and then, lately.”

“I thought you seemed as if you were listening to something,” Leslie said. “Do you think Nyah might have cast some kind of spell over Haruko, maybe?”

“Not a bad guess, my child,” Roarke said with a smile, “but there are two problems with it. First, we have heard nothing from Nyah since Duke McCall became a merman and her husband, from which I can infer that our old friend is completely content with him and would thus have no reason to cause any further trouble. Second, the summonses I’ve been hearing are not quite those of Nyah. The…uh, choruses, if you will, seem…shall we say, less full. There seem to be fewer voices singing.”

Leslie took this in with a few slight nods. “Do you think Haruko’s in any trouble?”

“That, I can’t answer at the moment,” Roarke said. “But I have a feeling that the young lady will eventually find herself in over her head, and she’ll seek me out. I will let you know if I need your assistance.”

The day passed uneventfully till a couple of hours after supper; Roarke was alone in the house, for even Mariki and her staff had gone home for the night. He was refreshing his memory about the fantasies for the weekend, as he always did of a Friday evening, when he heard it again—the summons he’d told Leslie about. It was faint, but he could hear it very plainly. Something about its quality told him that he was meant to hear this particular call, and he arose to investigate.

He took a jeep into town, parked in the little alley that led to the beach the residents usually used, and followed the sound of the ethereal singing call till he found the more secluded section of sand where Christian had an occasional habit of running. The moon was just about full, and in its gentle silvery light he could easily make out the form of a person standing not far from the waterline, and a human head bobbing in the shallows.

“Is that the man we seek?” he heard a voice call from the water.

The figure on the shoreline whipped around to face him, and he smiled when he recognized it. “Ah, good evening, Haruko,” he said warmly. “What brings you to the beach at such an hour, and who might your friend be?”

“This is Akima,” said Haruko, gesturing at the bobbing head. “She’s a mermaid.”

“That I know,” Roarke said humorously, studying the hopeful-looking face that gazed at him. “So it’s your summons I have been hearing of late, young lady.”

Akima seemed a little sheepish. “Yes, but I have great reason to call to you. So you are the miraculous Mr. Roarke!”

That made Roarke laugh. “ ‘Miraculous’ may be a matter of opinion. My immediate interest is your precise identity. Do you happen to know Nyah?”

“Yes, she is my mother,” Akima said.

Roarke grinned at that; Nyah’s influence was clear in Akima’s speech pattern, flowery and musical in the older mermaid’s style. “That explains the chorus, then. Much like Nyah’s, but not as full, if you’ll pardon my saying so.”

“Mama has twenty voices that sing out her earthly presence when she is on land, but I am merely a minor princess and I have but three,” Akima admitted with a little sigh. “Mama is now Queen of the Seven Seas, you know.”

“The news came to me some time ago,” Roarke said, still smiling. “Tell me, Akima, how do you happen to know Haruko?”

Akima beamed. “Haruko is my friend; she saved my life but a week ago. I had been on my way to Pitcairn Island with my family, and a terrible storm churned the ocean and raised much seaweed—the low-quality variety, of course.” She made a face and Roarke stifled a laugh. “The water boiled so furiously that I no longer knew the surface from the bottom, and I was tossed about most violently. When I knew myself once more, I lay upon a beach under a great pile of the vilest seaweed the South Pacific has to offer. Can you imagine the horror, Mr. Roarke, that only the worst kind of our staple food seems to wash upon the shores of land? Little wonder humans find it so repulsive. If they could only taste the savory variety we grow in the deepest depths.” She giggled. “But I digress from my tale. I saw no one around me, but I had hopes that some friendly denizen of the sea might lend me assistance, so I began to call for help. The only one to respond was Haruko. She proved herself very worthy of my friendship…and now we have a request to make of you.”

“Both of you?” Roarke asked, looking at Haruko long enough to make her blush.

“We both kind of thought of it at the same time, Mr. Roarke,” Haruko said, clearing her throat and nervously shifting her weight. “Akima’s bored with her life in the ocean, and I’m bored with my life on land. I mean, all I ever do is go to school and babysit my sister, practically. Not that I’m bored with babysitting for the triplets or anything…it’s just…well, I mean, I do that only on the weekends. Except I’m not doing it this weekend, ’cause Miss Leslie told me Prince Christian was taking some time off and he’d be doing it. Um…anyway, we thought we’d ask you if you’d, uh…grant us a fantasy.”

“A fantasy!” said Roarke, casting a few glances between Haruko and Akima.

“I have sixty-eight dollars saved up, so I can pay you,” Haruko offered earnestly.

“If it is payment you require, I can offer you my pearl necklace,” Akima put in. “See? It is made of the finest natural pearls to be found off the coast of Japan.”

“Well…” Roarke began.

Akima interrupted, “Is it not enough? I can bring you more. Oh, Mr. Roarke, can you not understand? I have seen all there is to see beneath the ocean. I have swum every coral reef, dived every trench, explored every shipwreck, played in every whirlpool. I have taken luxurious steam baths at undersea volcanoes and cooled the heated summer days with excursions beneath icebergs. I have challenged hurricane-churned waters and relaxed in the glassiest of tidal pools. But I have done it all, and nothing new remains! Now I want to know what it is like to be a human and live upon the land.”

“And I’d like to be a mermaid and see all those places Akima’s so sick of,” Haruko added, caught up in the mermaid’s excitement. “Every day I go to school, come home, do my homework, watch Chikako, do what Mama-san and Papa-san tell me. The kids from Coral Island treat us Fantasy Islanders like we’re stuck up, and David Omamara keeps making fun of me, and I’m having trouble in Social Sciences…my parents don’t have time to even take me and Chikako to the amusement park, and there’s no place to go shopping here, and I’m not allowed to take the ferry over to Coral Island yet, and I’m still not old enough for a driver’s license, and I can’t get a job, and I don’t even have a bike—”

Roarke raised his hands in surrender, laughing despite himself. “I believe you have made your point quite effectively, Haruko!” he teased. The girl smiled sheepishly, and he patted her shoulder. “Both of you have made your points beautifully, and I would tell you not to worry about payment for your fantasy—but for one problem. Are your parents aware of your wishes?”

Haruko and Akima looked at each other, both with thwarted expressions. Finally Haruko admitted, “My parents don’t even know we know each other.”

“And my parents do not even realize I am here,” Akima added. “I have been here since last week, awaiting their return, so that I may rejoin them and return home. But till that time, I am quite free to do as I will, I daresay. After all, minor though it be, I am still a princess of the Seven Seas.”

“That may be,” Roarke said, amused. “Unfortunately, Haruko is not; and I have no particular wish to incur her parents’ wrath by granting her wish without their knowledge.” He smiled at Akima. “Furthermore, your parents may be quite displeased with me as well, for not consulting them first.”

“But it is for a mere week!” Akima protested. “My family is to spend an entire month at Pitcairn. They will not interrupt their vacation simply to hunt for me. After all, they have eighty-nine other children to fuss over. What do they need with me? If they were truly so worried about me, Mr. Roarke, they would have come for me by this time.”

Haruko said hopefully, “Papa-san works for you, Mr. Roarke, doesn’t he? You could insist, ’cause you’re his boss…”

Roarke could tell from her tone that she knew she was grasping at straws, and he chuckled. “A decent boss doesn’t make such demands of his employees, Haruko, and I would never put your father in that position. Perhaps, Akima, I could grant you your side of this fantasy, but it is impossible for me to do the same for you, Haruko, unless your mother and father are made aware of this.”

“If I tell them, will you do it?” Haruko asked.

Roarke chuckled. “It occurs to me, my dear young ladies, that there are other problems here than merely notifying your respective parents. Think of the difficulties that could arise for each of you once you had, uh, exchanged places. Akima, you know very little of the ways of humans. Merely trading in your tail for a pair of legs won’t give you knowledge of the human world—just ask your mother.” He grinned at that memory. “And Haruko, the same is true of you for the sea, which is a far vaster arena than land. Each of you would be completely lost in the other’s world. Has that occurred to you?”

Both girl and mermaid were quiet for a good minute; then Haruko reluctantly admitted, “I guess we didn’t think it through that far.”

“What, then, would you suggest?” Akima wanted to know.

“I should think that, provided that at least Haruko’s parents are told of this little venture and have given their permission, you might each spend a weekend in the other’s world—but at separate times. This weekend, perhaps, Akima might become human for a couple of days, and Haruko, you would be her guide. Then, next weekend, you can become a temporary mermaid, and Akima will in turn guide you through her world. What do you think? Would that be satisfactory to both of you?”

Again Akima and Haruko fell silent, considering the option; Haruko was the first to speak. “Actually, I think that makes sense. Don’t you, Akima? It might be an adventure to do it at the same time by ourselves, but it’d be an awful lot scarier. If we take turns, then we could hang out together, and it’d be less scary and probably even more exciting ’cause we both know there’s someone with us who knows everything you have to know. And anyway, I don’t think I could fight off kappas and sharks by myself.”

“Now that you say this, I think it might be worth changing our plans,” Akima mused. “Yes, I think I like this. Perhaps your school will be a little less daunting…”

“Well, we don’t have school on the weekends,” Haruko said.

Akima made a face. “You don’t? But that is a large part of your life, is it not?” She turned to Roarke. “Surely you could extend my side of the fantasy so that I can attend school with Haruko for a day. Just one short day.”

Roarke smiled, more amused than ever. “Perhaps, perhaps. We can discuss that a bit later. For the moment, I suggest that you, Akima, come to this very beach tomorrow morning, say about six, and I will perform the transformation necessary for you to get along on dry land. You’ll come back to the main house with me.” Akima nodded eagerly. “As for you, Haruko, are both your parents home now?” When she nodded, he said, “Good. I’ll come to your home with you, and we will speak with them as to your part of this fantasy. If they agree, we will make arrangements later about your transformation and what responsibilities Akima will take on so that you are safe during your time in the ocean.”

“That sounds awesome, Mr. Roarke,” said Haruko with relief. “I’m glad you’re coming with me. I didn’t really want to talk to my parents alone—they’d just say no.”

Roarke laughed. “I’ll see what I can do, but I make no promises, you understand. It’s entirely up to your mother and father. Akima, I will see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, yes, I will be here!” Akima agreed excitedly. “Good night, and all luck to you, Haruko!” She didn’t wait for a response but dove away with a happy splash.

Roarke and Haruko retreated across the sand to the jeep; and once they were on the way to the Miyamotos’ townhouse, Haruko remarked with a sigh, “Akima sure is lucky. She doesn’t have to face her mom and dad.”

Roarke grinned. “Just between you and me, Haruko, I don’t think Akima will get away as scot-free as you believe. Sooner or later I expect word will get back to Nyah, and there will certainly be consequences then. I daresay that, all in all, you are getting the better end of that bargain.” Haruko grinned reluctantly, and he parked in front of the townhouse and escorted her up the front walk.

In Japanese Haruko announced hers and Roarke’s presence, and Kazuo and Katsumi both appeared from other rooms. Chikako, dressed in pajamas, came too, smiling shyly up at Roarke while Kazuo shook hands with him. Katsumi performed a shallow bow of respect, then inquired, “Is Haruko trouble, Mr. Roarke?”

“Not at all, Katsumi,” Roarke assured her. “In fact, she has a request to make of you, a rather large one—which is why I am with her. Perhaps you’d like to sit down.”

Half an hour later, Katsumi and Kazuo were both sitting in stunned silence, looking as if they hoped this was a nightmare that would end shortly; Haruko was literally on the edge of her own seat, perched so precariously that she was in danger of sliding off, watching her parents with all her hopes in her eyes. Chikako had been sent to bed, amid a good deal of protest, quite some time ago. And Roarke merely sat waiting patiently.

Finally Katsumi made an odd noise; all eyes went to her, and Kazuo’s head jutted forward with alarm at her pale face. “Katsumi, koibito?”

Looking dazed, Katsumi said something in Japanese that made Haruko groan softly. Kazuo glanced at her, faintly amused, then said to Roarke, “She tells me that she supposes she should be relieved that our daughter doesn’t wish to become a kappa for a weekend.”

Roarke chuckled at that, and Haruko said with a sigh, “Really, Papa-san, after everything you and Mama-san have told me about kappas, who’d want to be one of those nasty things? Besides, Akima said she’ll help fight them for me…if you’ll let me be a mermaid.”

Kazuo shook his head sharply once, as though trying to force the concept to sink in. “You can really do that, Mr. Roarke?…make Haruko a mermaid, and then change her back again? It’s actually possible?”

“Yes, it is,” Roarke said serenely. “I’ve made the change from mermaid to human and back again; it’s a simple thing to do the reverse.”

“I can swim already,” Haruko pleaded. “And Akima’s going to be my guide. We’re friends—she won’t let anything happen to me.”

Katsumi said hesitantly, “Roarke-san…you say we meet Akima tomorrow?” At his nod, she looked at Haruko. “And she is nice girl?”

“She’s terrific, Mama-san,” Haruko said earnestly. “You’ll see. She can share my room, and it won’t be so hard to feed her. She eats seaweed, you know. Her diet won’t really be so different from ours, except maybe she won’t eat rice.”

“And what are you going to eat, Haruko-chan, when you’re under the sea with your mermaid friend?” Kazuo inquired humorously.

Haruko turned red. “Seaweed, Papa-san, of course. And maybe some other stuff…I don’t know exactly what else mermaids eat.”

“I’ll bet they don’t eat fish,” Kazuo joked.

“Is good they do not,” Katsumi said, frowning at him, “for fish make you sick!”

Kazuo laughed good-naturedly and squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, koibito, both Haruko and I are thoroughly aware of our fish allergy. I was just figuring that if a mermaid is half fish, eating fish might be cannibalism to them.”

“Maybe we’ll just eat kappas,” Haruko said mischievously. Kazuo burst out laughing, and Katsumi gave her a dirty look that finally melted in a grudging smile.

Roarke, chuckling, said, “It’s entirely up to the two of you, of course, but I might add that I will supervise the two girls very carefully. If necessary, I myself will transform long enough to be certain they are doing well. But Haruko seems to me to be a resourceful young lady, and quite bright at that; I’m sure she will do very well in Akima’s world.”

Kazuo grinned. “I’m willing enough to let her try it. Katsumi, are you? I think it would be a good experience for her. Imagine what she can learn.”

“Exactly, Mama-san!” Haruko burst out, clearly seeing an opportunity to sway her mother with the prospect of acquiring more education. “I was thinking that when I get back, I could write a paper about exotic fishes for my science class.”

Katsumi groaned, then looked at the ceiling and sighed. “Yes, all right, you may be mermaid for one weekend. You just remember, you not eat fish.”

“I won’t, Mama-san, I promise!” Haruko cried, elated. “Domo arigato, Mama-san to Papa-san! Domo arigato!” She leaped from her chair and hugged both her parents.

From the stairs came a voice: “I want to be a mermaid too!” It was Chikako, who stood halfway down the stairway, staring unabashedly over the banister. Haruko rolled her eyes, while Katsumi got up to shoo Chikako back to bed. Laughing quietly, Roarke bid Kazuo and Haruko good night and departed, reflecting that both Akima and Haruko were going to find the grass far less green on each other’s respective side than either believed.