Her mother didn’t reply. She lay with her head on the back of the chair, her eyes closed, mouth slightly open as she breathed the deep and even breath of sleep. Even though her mother looked pale, Anedra called to her again, “Mama? I’m hungry.”
Her mother shifted slightly, but didn’t respond.
Anedra put her hands on her hips and tightened her mouth, hunger raising her ire. She had just spent an hour cleaning for her mother and now her mother had fallen asleep on her. She knew that her mother liked taking care of her, and thought about shaking her mother’s shoulder to force her to awaken.
But before she could walk over to her mother’s chair, she heard a thump at the front door. She turned just as her father bumped the door open. His eyes swept over his daughter, slanting upward at the corners as they always did at the sight of her dark curls and sea blue eyes. “I have found the most marvelous thing! He cried, setting a tightly woven basket on the table. “Where is your mother? I must tell you both.”
Anedra pointed at the chair where her mother slept, then turned to look in the basket while her father rushed to her mother’s side. The most beautiful fish she’d ever seen lay twitching beneath a layer of greenish sea water. The fish was as long as her forearm, its scales thickly colored in gleaming shades of red, orange, and deep purple with flashes of rich metallic glimmer, like silver and gold woven into the tips of the scales. The fish was breathtakingly beautiful and looked absolutely delicious. Strangely enough, it seemed to be looking up at her. Tiny bubbles like silver beads rose to the top of the water and broke through the surface. “Pretty.”
Did that fish just call me pretty? Impossible. It was her hunger talking. Anedra reach into the basket and grasped the fish by the gills. It arched in a powerful spasms of muscles, its gleaming iridescent tail swinging up with all the power in it to slap her forehead. Dazed, she fell back against the cupboard, her fists instinctively tightening on the fish as she fell.
“Anedra!” her father called, his heavy footfalls running toward her. “What happened?” Darting a glance into the basket, he cried, “Where is the fish?” His eyes focused on the lifeless fish body still clutched in Anedra’s hand, its head kilted at an odd angle. Anedra’s father fell to his knees at her side. “No!” he cried.
At first Anedra thought he was worried about her, but to her shock, he slid his hands under the fish and took it from her, cradling it gently while tears spilled down his grizzled cheeks. “No, it can’t be dead.”
“Papa? Where is your concern? That thing hit me in the head. I think it left a mark.” Anedra rubbed her forehead.
Her father looked up at her, his eyes mournful. “This was no ordinary fish.”
Mama stood in the doorway, her hair pressed up flat on one side of her head from sleeping on it. “It is more colorful than most, Henry, but what is all the fuss about?”
His gaze shifted to his wife and he gave her an apologetic smile. “It spoke to me, Maureen.”
Anedra thought she’d been hit harder than she realized. Before she could say anything, her mother said, “It spoke to you?”
“I know it seems crazy, but this fish said not to eat it or there would be dire consequences. It said it was a prince.”
“You are bewitched,” Anedra said. “Enchanted. Don’t let anyone hear you talk that way or else we will lose you.” Anedra got to her feet and pulled the fish from her father’s hands. “I am famished and I will have this fish for my lunch.”
“You must not eat it!”
“Why waste food? And what difference does it make if it’s already dead?” Anedra pulled out a pan and set it on the stove.
“You shouldn’t do that, no, you shouldn’t do that.” Her father’s voice sounded lost and scared.
“Mama, I think Daddy needs to go lie down,” Anedra said. “Why waste food?”
So she cooked the fish while her parents left the room, although she was awkward about it since it didn’t quite fit in the pan. It looked rather pitiful with its head over one side and its tail over the other, bobbing slightly in the heat waves. But that didn’t deter Anedra. Her stomach rumbled as she turned the fish over, the browned scales looking even more appealing in her hunger than the bright, clear scales on the raw side.
At last she flipped the fish onto a plate and pried the smallest bit of skin back with a fork. The flesh steamed white and moist. Anedra put her fork in and lifted a small block of fish to her mouth. She’d never tasted anything better. It was rich and buttery and seemed to infuse energy into her cells.
Anedra’s father stepped through the doorway and strode toward his daughter, tears rolling down his face. “I cannot let you do this.” He swept his hand across her plate and the fish was gone, carried in his big hand to the door.
“No!” Anedra cried, jumping up from the table. Her father had never denied her anything she wanted before, and she wanted that fish.
“Where is he?” Mama asked, hurrying into the kitchen.
“Out there. We must stop him.” Anedra ran through the door into the yard and saw her father heading for the stream bank, the fish held slightly back from his body, ready to throw.
“Is he going to jump in?” Mama asked from behind her.
“Papa, don’t!” Anedra yelled, just as the fish arced up into the air, its scorched scales catching a hint of color from the sunlight.
Anedra reached her father’s side just as the fish splashed into the water and sank from sight. Inexplicable tears welled up in her eyes. “Why?” she whispered.
“To save you, my girl,” Henry said, reaching out to touch her dark curls.
Anedra wobbled, the bones in her legs seeming to flatten out into a substance as thin as sheets of paper, unable to hold her weight. Her father’s arm swept around her, trying to support her, but she slipped through his grasp.
“Anedra!” her mother gasped. “What’s happening to you?”
Her father sank to the ground beside her. “You didn’t eat the fish, Anedra, you didn’t eat the fish, did you?”
“Just one bite,” she gasped, then her mouth moved up and down, up and down, and no more sound came out. Her arms shortened and thinned, shriveling to stubby, paper thin limbs that wafted ineffectually in the air. Anedra’s lungs shrank, and she gasped for air. Her stomach squeezed so tightly that she threw up, the flow of vomit arcing out into the stream.
“No!” Mama shrieked. “My daughter! Where is my daughter?”
Why are you asking? I’m right here and I don’t feel well. Take care of me, Mama.
“Why did you eat the fish?” Henry cried, his voice wobbling with emotion. “You weren’t supposed to eat it.” With a gentle caress, he slid his arms under Anedra’s body and lifted her up from the bank. Then he tipped her upside down and slid her head-first into the water.
Anedra gasped in shock and flailed her limbs as the cold water slid through her new gills, giving her oxygen. She flipped her tail and moved to the surface of the water, looking up to see her parents bent over the stream, staring down at her, their faces full of sorrow, tears raining down to dimple the water over her head.
I’m a fish, Anedra thought with surprise. But she was not a fish. Not inside. She was a girl who wanted to go home. Gazing up through the water at her parents’ faces, she realized how much she loved them and didn’t want to leave them. Why hadn’t she listened to her father? More importantly, how could she get back to the way she was supposed to be?
(To be continued next week.)
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