LJ Idol, Season 9 - Week 20
Title: Katya and the Fish-Girl
Topic: rapture of the deep
note: this week is an intersection, and my partner is beldarzfixon, and his post is here.
Katya's home was a plot of land near a town near the sea, at the far western edge of the country. Her parents had a small farm and raised sheep and goats. She learned how to make cheese from her father's hand and how to spin and weave from her mother's. She learned how to read the behavior of the clouds for fair weather or foul, and how to read the behavior of the goats for oncoming storms. She liked to talk to the sheep while her father or one of his hired hands sheared them, because as a little girl she worried they might be scared.
But even though her town and her parents' land was at the edge of the country next to the sea, and even though many people in town made their living from the water, she never learned to swim, and when she was seven years old, she fell out of her grandfather's fishing boat and nearly drowned.
Strong hands pulled her from the water, cold and dripping, but when they revived her she began to cry. Because she had seen a little girl under the surface of the sea, a little girl like herself, with an approximation of her face. She thought she might have a sister under the waves. The little fish-girl had looked as surprised as Katya to see someone so alike, but she had smiled and held out her hand and Katya thought she understood the little fish-girl calling to her.
And then she was dragged out of the water and away from whatever promises the little fish-girl might have made. When she tried to explain what she had seen, her grandfather and one of the men in his boat just shook their heads and said that was impossible, there were no people under the sea, fish could not wear human faces, she must have imagined it. Sometimes when a person had been under water and deprived of air for long enough, he or she would see things that were not there and hear sounds that had not been made. But the other fisherman in the boat told Katya it sometimes happened that a person would be pulled unresponsive from the water, but when he choked and spluttered and regained air, he would claim to have seen people in the sea, deeper than men or women could survive. People who were like fish, the stories said. But they were dangerous, the fisherman added, for men and women who lived on land were not created to live in the sea - they could take from the sea, and they must always respect the sea, but they could not survive for long in the sea.
Katya tried to tell him that the little fish-girl was just a little girl like she was, not a threat, and they could be friends, but the fisherman only shook his head and said that little fish-girls grew up to be fish-women, and little fish-boys grew up to be fish-men, and none of them could be trusted.
Katya thought he was wrong, but she had been raised to be respectful and she did not say so.
She tried to put the little fish-girl out of her mind, but sometimes she would dream of a town deep under the water, down on the sea floor, where she and the little fish-girl could play and be happy. Her parents had not had another daughter, so perhaps the little fish-girl could be her sister. But Katya's parents and cousins told her that was lunacy, that little girls were supposed to eat little fish, not befriend them, and eventually she stopped talking about it.
But she never completely forgot.
When she was of an age to be married, she said yes to a boy named Timo, who worked a farm with his older brother - like Katya's parents, they raised sheep and goats for their milk and their wool and their meat - and who was good-looking and strong and made her laugh. There were rumors about him - that he had planned to marry a girl from a town farther inland until she broke it off, that he and his brother did not share the same parents, that his grandmother had been stolen by pirates as a little girl and had returned years later without a husband but with a baby who grew up to become Timo's father. But Katya only cared that he was kind to her and would be a good husband and father, and that his land ran to the edge of a cliff, so she could live in a house by the sea.
She imagined she could hear the waves at night, splashing against the bottom of the cliff, and sometimes, when the house was quiet and even the sea and the birds had gone silent, she thought she could hear the fish-girl calling her name.
She loved Timo and did not want to leave him, but one day she could hear the fish-girl calling to her so strongly she could not say no. Timo's brother had a small boat that he took out sometimes to fish for his and Timo's combined households, and she pulled it into the water and rowed away from the shore until the fish-girl's voice was so strong, Katya imagined the small boat might be right over her.
Katya leaned over the side of the boat, peering into the water, trying to see the fish-girl, and then pushed off the bottom and slid head-first into the sea.
The water was as cold and as blue and green as it was in her dreams. The fish-girl was there, older than Katya remembered but still wearing Katya's face. Long hair floated around her and she held a net made of kelp, more beautiful than any fishermen's nets Katya had seen on land.
My sister, Katya said, reaching out to catch her fingers in the fish-girl's hair. I knew you were no dream.
She had not wished to leave Timo and their farm and their life together, but now that she was here under the surface of the water, with the fish-girl who looked like her, she felt at peace and as if she were in a place where she belonged.
But then she heard a splash and felt rough hands taking hold of her and pulling her to the surface. The fish-girl was gone and Katya, breathless and soaking, lay in the bottom of a stranger's boat, strange men staring worried at her. They must have seen her small boat empty, or had seen her slide into the water, and had come to rescue her. She had been dragged from the water a second time and just as she had done when she was seven, when they revived her, she cried.
She did not tell them what she had seen. She knew they would not believe her. They would laugh at her, or think her a lunatic. They brought her back to the house and to Timo, who dried her off and did not laugh.
I was so afraid I had lost you, he whispered to her that night, holding her close, all the doors and windows locked. It is too dangerous for us to live so close to the sea. You are too tempted by it.
And so he sold his older brother his share of their farm except for some sheep and goats, and he packed up his wife and his goods and moved them to the far interior of the country, to a town at the foot of the mountains and so far from the sea that Katya could not even imagine she could still hear it.
She was angry at him, enough to tell him so. He had taken her from her parents and the land of her birth and everything and everyone she had ever known, and he had taken her from her sea. He had taken from her any chance of seeing the fish-girl ever again.
But he only told her again and again that he loved her and could not lose her, and he was afraid that her desire for her imagined fish-girl was stronger than her desire to live on land with him.
Finally Katya was able to accept what he kept trying to tell her, and she loved him enough to respect his concern. There was a thread of dreamy melancholy that ran through her people, but there was a thread of practicality as well, and she had chosen Timo - or had let him choose her - because he would be a good husband and a good father, and she could make a good life with him. And so she tried to put her longing for the sea and her fish-girl aside, and turned her mind to raising her children and caring for her husband and running her household. She learned to live in this town at the foot of the mountains, to befriend its people and survive its winters and accept the little joys that it offered. She taught her sons to make cheese as her father had taught her, and she taught her daughters to spin and dye and weave wool as her mother had taught her. She taught her tiny grandchildren to talk kindly to the sheep so the wooly creatures would not be afraid when strong hands held them still to shear them.
She never quite forgot the fish-girl and her beautiful kelp net and her familiar face, or that the fish-girl had spoken to her with words she could understand. But she had this land-bound life in front of her and she had to live it, so she pushed the sea to the back of her mind, and if she dreamed about it from time to time, and woke up with the sadness of having lost a sister she never knew and a chance at something wonderful, she never said.
Katya lived many years at the foot of the mountains, with her family and their goats and their sheep and their cheese, and overall she was happy. But at the end of her life she could hear it again, the sea and the fish-girl calling to her. She could feel the pull like a hand beckoning her forward, the pull she'd felt in some fashion most of her life, ever since worried men had hauled her out of the sea when she was seven years old. And now, her children grown with children and households of their own, her Timo in the ground, her own end approaching, she bought passage on a caravan and went back to the land where she had been born, to visit the sea one more time. She wanted to see the fish-girl again, and talk to her, and touch her hair, and accompany her to the city she knew lay below the waves.
Katya had lived her whole life as a land-bound creature, whether she had wanted to or not. It was time to answer the call of the sea one final time, and live as a water-bound one. Her fish-girl, her watery sister, was waiting for her.
Topic: rapture of the deep
note: this week is an intersection, and my partner is beldarzfixon, and his post is here.
Katya's home was a plot of land near a town near the sea, at the far western edge of the country. Her parents had a small farm and raised sheep and goats. She learned how to make cheese from her father's hand and how to spin and weave from her mother's. She learned how to read the behavior of the clouds for fair weather or foul, and how to read the behavior of the goats for oncoming storms. She liked to talk to the sheep while her father or one of his hired hands sheared them, because as a little girl she worried they might be scared.
But even though her town and her parents' land was at the edge of the country next to the sea, and even though many people in town made their living from the water, she never learned to swim, and when she was seven years old, she fell out of her grandfather's fishing boat and nearly drowned.
Strong hands pulled her from the water, cold and dripping, but when they revived her she began to cry. Because she had seen a little girl under the surface of the sea, a little girl like herself, with an approximation of her face. She thought she might have a sister under the waves. The little fish-girl had looked as surprised as Katya to see someone so alike, but she had smiled and held out her hand and Katya thought she understood the little fish-girl calling to her.
And then she was dragged out of the water and away from whatever promises the little fish-girl might have made. When she tried to explain what she had seen, her grandfather and one of the men in his boat just shook their heads and said that was impossible, there were no people under the sea, fish could not wear human faces, she must have imagined it. Sometimes when a person had been under water and deprived of air for long enough, he or she would see things that were not there and hear sounds that had not been made. But the other fisherman in the boat told Katya it sometimes happened that a person would be pulled unresponsive from the water, but when he choked and spluttered and regained air, he would claim to have seen people in the sea, deeper than men or women could survive. People who were like fish, the stories said. But they were dangerous, the fisherman added, for men and women who lived on land were not created to live in the sea - they could take from the sea, and they must always respect the sea, but they could not survive for long in the sea.
Katya tried to tell him that the little fish-girl was just a little girl like she was, not a threat, and they could be friends, but the fisherman only shook his head and said that little fish-girls grew up to be fish-women, and little fish-boys grew up to be fish-men, and none of them could be trusted.
Katya thought he was wrong, but she had been raised to be respectful and she did not say so.
She tried to put the little fish-girl out of her mind, but sometimes she would dream of a town deep under the water, down on the sea floor, where she and the little fish-girl could play and be happy. Her parents had not had another daughter, so perhaps the little fish-girl could be her sister. But Katya's parents and cousins told her that was lunacy, that little girls were supposed to eat little fish, not befriend them, and eventually she stopped talking about it.
But she never completely forgot.
When she was of an age to be married, she said yes to a boy named Timo, who worked a farm with his older brother - like Katya's parents, they raised sheep and goats for their milk and their wool and their meat - and who was good-looking and strong and made her laugh. There were rumors about him - that he had planned to marry a girl from a town farther inland until she broke it off, that he and his brother did not share the same parents, that his grandmother had been stolen by pirates as a little girl and had returned years later without a husband but with a baby who grew up to become Timo's father. But Katya only cared that he was kind to her and would be a good husband and father, and that his land ran to the edge of a cliff, so she could live in a house by the sea.
She imagined she could hear the waves at night, splashing against the bottom of the cliff, and sometimes, when the house was quiet and even the sea and the birds had gone silent, she thought she could hear the fish-girl calling her name.
She loved Timo and did not want to leave him, but one day she could hear the fish-girl calling to her so strongly she could not say no. Timo's brother had a small boat that he took out sometimes to fish for his and Timo's combined households, and she pulled it into the water and rowed away from the shore until the fish-girl's voice was so strong, Katya imagined the small boat might be right over her.
Katya leaned over the side of the boat, peering into the water, trying to see the fish-girl, and then pushed off the bottom and slid head-first into the sea.
The water was as cold and as blue and green as it was in her dreams. The fish-girl was there, older than Katya remembered but still wearing Katya's face. Long hair floated around her and she held a net made of kelp, more beautiful than any fishermen's nets Katya had seen on land.
My sister, Katya said, reaching out to catch her fingers in the fish-girl's hair. I knew you were no dream.
She had not wished to leave Timo and their farm and their life together, but now that she was here under the surface of the water, with the fish-girl who looked like her, she felt at peace and as if she were in a place where she belonged.
But then she heard a splash and felt rough hands taking hold of her and pulling her to the surface. The fish-girl was gone and Katya, breathless and soaking, lay in the bottom of a stranger's boat, strange men staring worried at her. They must have seen her small boat empty, or had seen her slide into the water, and had come to rescue her. She had been dragged from the water a second time and just as she had done when she was seven, when they revived her, she cried.
She did not tell them what she had seen. She knew they would not believe her. They would laugh at her, or think her a lunatic. They brought her back to the house and to Timo, who dried her off and did not laugh.
I was so afraid I had lost you, he whispered to her that night, holding her close, all the doors and windows locked. It is too dangerous for us to live so close to the sea. You are too tempted by it.
And so he sold his older brother his share of their farm except for some sheep and goats, and he packed up his wife and his goods and moved them to the far interior of the country, to a town at the foot of the mountains and so far from the sea that Katya could not even imagine she could still hear it.
She was angry at him, enough to tell him so. He had taken her from her parents and the land of her birth and everything and everyone she had ever known, and he had taken her from her sea. He had taken from her any chance of seeing the fish-girl ever again.
But he only told her again and again that he loved her and could not lose her, and he was afraid that her desire for her imagined fish-girl was stronger than her desire to live on land with him.
Finally Katya was able to accept what he kept trying to tell her, and she loved him enough to respect his concern. There was a thread of dreamy melancholy that ran through her people, but there was a thread of practicality as well, and she had chosen Timo - or had let him choose her - because he would be a good husband and a good father, and she could make a good life with him. And so she tried to put her longing for the sea and her fish-girl aside, and turned her mind to raising her children and caring for her husband and running her household. She learned to live in this town at the foot of the mountains, to befriend its people and survive its winters and accept the little joys that it offered. She taught her sons to make cheese as her father had taught her, and she taught her daughters to spin and dye and weave wool as her mother had taught her. She taught her tiny grandchildren to talk kindly to the sheep so the wooly creatures would not be afraid when strong hands held them still to shear them.
She never quite forgot the fish-girl and her beautiful kelp net and her familiar face, or that the fish-girl had spoken to her with words she could understand. But she had this land-bound life in front of her and she had to live it, so she pushed the sea to the back of her mind, and if she dreamed about it from time to time, and woke up with the sadness of having lost a sister she never knew and a chance at something wonderful, she never said.
Katya lived many years at the foot of the mountains, with her family and their goats and their sheep and their cheese, and overall she was happy. But at the end of her life she could hear it again, the sea and the fish-girl calling to her. She could feel the pull like a hand beckoning her forward, the pull she'd felt in some fashion most of her life, ever since worried men had hauled her out of the sea when she was seven years old. And now, her children grown with children and households of their own, her Timo in the ground, her own end approaching, she bought passage on a caravan and went back to the land where she had been born, to visit the sea one more time. She wanted to see the fish-girl again, and talk to her, and touch her hair, and accompany her to the city she knew lay below the waves.
Katya had lived her whole life as a land-bound creature, whether she had wanted to or not. It was time to answer the call of the sea one final time, and live as a water-bound one. Her fish-girl, her watery sister, was waiting for her.