Glacier Torrent
IfritAs he twisted away from the window, his eyes fell on the sight of his own beach house. It was his home on the land, although as a merman, he would never feel as comfortable there as he did beneath the waves. Slowly, he walked over to the full-length mirror standing at the far side of the room. He let out another sigh, as he looked himself over. Not that his form displeased him - far from it. Mayra admired his toned muscles and flowing milky hair, which reached down to the ground even when he had bound it in a pony tale.
No, he knew and delighted in his looks, one of the many things he liked about himself. Rather, he sighed because it meant another day of glamouring himself to appear human, so that he could walk among them. If Mayra had a choice, he wouldn't have to spend so much time near the land dwellers who pollute his home, dumping their waste in its pristine waters. For that, he could never forgive the humans. They had no right to take over what was not theirs and to ravage the homes of others. But he had no choice. He stayed among them because he must, because only to them could he sell his wares.
With just one last glance in the mirror to view his charms, he hastily pulled a shirt over his chest and walked out the house. His sandals left small impressions on the sand, as he traversed the beach, ever nearing the boardwalk. Although his small shack was not viewable from the main pier, it was nearby, only hidden by a trick turn in the landscape. Soon, his feet fell upon the wooden planks of the boardwalk, rather than the nature's pathways.
Mayra reached into his pocket and drew out a small silver key. A soft click let him know he had unlocked the main entrance to his shop. Dropping the key back into his pocket, he pulled up the shutters and let the light stream in. Walking down each aisle, he took mental stock of his wares. Every so often, he would reach out to adjust a shell collection or untangle a sea-glass chime. The soft aquas and teals glinted in the light and left similarly colored shadows upon the floor. As he walked past, the chime gave a soft tinkle, almost as if in tune.
Grabbing a soft cloth, Mayra meticulously polished the items resting on the glass shelves. Various trinkets, all made of items he brought up from the ocean or the beach, with some gems and precious metals thrown in, littered the shelves. All the items, from the sand-filled bottles to the wind chimes to the shell-encrusted box, were made by hand. Mayra had a gift for making such baubles; once completed, the items shown as if with an inner light, though it was only the sea-glass and jewels that were placed to catch the light just so.
Not that the humans understood this, however. They would come through, find something that caught their eye, and buy it as a souvenir, either for themselves or those who did not come with them. Unfortunately, most were destined to find their way on to some shelf, where they would wait, covered with dust, for the years to come. Still, Mayra made the items and still the people bought them.
The chiming of the bells alerts Mayra to the entrance of a few customers. He hurried behind the main counter and watched as they browsed his wares. He made no attempt to engage them in small talk, but only waited until they came to the register to pay. A nod was all he exchanged, in confirmation that the transaction was through, and the tourists left again. A few others came in the same way, some buying items and some not, and Mayra treated them much the same way.
"So what did you think of that surfboard?" asked a gangly teen, who had just walked through the front door.
"Wicked," his red-headed friend answered. "Never seen any flames like that before."
"I know, right?" chimed in another.
The gang of teenagers, five in total, walked around the shop paying no attention to its owner. Each held a burger in one hand and a soft drink in the other. Mayra winced, thinking about their greasy fingers leaving marks on his crafted items, but the boys made no move to grab any item. In fact, they seemed hardly interested in the shop at all. Without buying anything, or stopping their constant prattle, they left the store.
With their departure, Mayra had thought to put them out of his mind entirely, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see one of the kids toss an empty soda can into the water. Furious, he stormed out of the shop.
"Hey!" he yelled after the group of boys.
One of them turned to regard him, startled by the sudden shout. Seeing that Mayra was evidently talking to them, he nudged the others to turn around as well.
"What do you think you're doing, just throwing your trash in the ocean? Haven't you heard of preserving the environment?"
"What can I say?" sneered the gangly teen, who appeared to be the leader of the group. "There wasn't a trashcan around. Besides, what's it to you anyways?"
"You ungrateful little," Mayra began, but the boys had already gone on their way. He contented himself with muttering various discontents under his breath at their retreating figures. Taking care not to touch the water with his lower body, he reaches out over the pier and fishes out the aluminum can.
Still shaking his head and fuming inside, he walked over to the closest recycling bin and tossed the can aside. At that moment, he raised his eyes to see a young girl, no older than eleven years, carrying as many cans as she could hold. With careful steps, she approached the bin, trying with all her might to keep the cans from spilling out of her arms. Her duty done, she raced off towards the other end of the pier again. Mayra followed her with his eyes and saw, to his surprise, that she walked along the edge of the boardwalk, picking discarded cans and other packaging, as if they were treasures to deposit in a chest.
Later that evening, Mayra let the water flow over his body, returning once again to his merman form for a swim in the ocean waters. Each swell of the ocean brought him up and he let himself be carried by the water's rhythms. A scowl crossed over his face, as he could still barely see the lights of the land. Then, suddenly, a rare smile crossed his face as he thought of the young girl he had witnessed that day. Though humans were still the cause of the ocean's pollution, there were still some, he could see, that weren't as bad as the rest.
