Every Picture Tells a Story 2
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Maya was five, and – unlike Ariel, who longed to be human – what she wanted most was to be a mermaid. She wanted to live in the ocean, undulating through the kelp beds, chasing rainbow-colored fish, and hunting for skittering crabs between the coral and the rocks. She wanted her golden hair to flow around her, like it did in her evening bath as she lay back in the tub, swishing her hair from side to side and listening to the strange, hollow sound of her voice as it reached her ears through the water. She wanted to glide with the fish and the dolphins, pushing up through the waves and splashing back down, hidden from view, in a game of hide-and-seek with humans and her fellow sea-creatures. Mermaid dreams filled her days.
One Sunday, her parents took Maya to the beach, along with one of her favorite sea-going dolls: a blue, stuffed scuba lady that her Grammy had made of cloth, with stitched-on eyes, lashes, and a smile. Maya needed the blue lady’s help to scout for mermaids. When they arrived seaside, Maya gazed at the vibrant turquoise water, checked the cord that was attached to her hair bow (an oxygen hose, she believed), held the loose end tightly, and dropped the doll into the water. The blue lady sank and stayed below for several minutes. Finally, she gave a quick tug, alerting Maya of the mermaid she’d found hiding in the kelp.
The Blue Lady
Artwork by Janet MorrellWater Princess
Story by Melissa LehmanMaya was five, and – unlike Ariel, who longed to be human – what she wanted most was to be a mermaid. She wanted to live in the ocean, undulating through the kelp beds, chasing rainbow-colored fish, and hunting for skittering crabs between the coral and the rocks. She wanted her golden hair to flow around her, like it did in her evening bath as she lay back in the tub, swishing her hair from side to side and listening to the strange, hollow sound of her voice as it reached her ears through the water. She wanted to glide with the fish and the dolphins, pushing up through the waves and splashing back down, hidden from view, in a game of hide-and-seek with humans and her fellow sea-creatures. Mermaid dreams filled her days.
One Sunday, her parents took Maya to the beach, along with one of her favorite sea-going dolls: a blue, stuffed scuba lady that her Grammy had made of cloth, with stitched-on eyes, lashes, and a smile. Maya needed the blue lady’s help to scout for mermaids. When they arrived seaside, Maya gazed at the vibrant turquoise water, checked the cord that was attached to her hair bow (an oxygen hose, she believed), held the loose end tightly, and dropped the doll into the water. The blue lady sank and stayed below for several minutes. Finally, she gave a quick tug, alerting Maya of the mermaid she’d found hiding in the kelp.