Felicity Williams - Ringlet and the Day the Oceans Stopped

Felicity Williams 2019. Felicity Williams has asserted her moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing with the purpose of private study, research, criticism, or review, as permitted under copyright laws, no part may be reproduced by any process, nor transmitted, nor translated without prior written permission from the copyright owners. Enquiries should be addressed to the publisher.

Edited by Sarah Bolland and Mary McCallum.

Typesetting, cover and book design by Sarah Bolland.

Cover illustration by Marlene Laugesen.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand

ISBN 978-0-9951197-2-7 (pbk); 978-0-9951233-0-4 (epub); 978-0-9951233-1-1 (mobi)

Ahoy!

An imprint of The Cuba Press

Box 9321, Wellington, Aotearoa New Zealand

For my favourite gogglet

The Legend

When the world began there was water everywhere, and the name of the water was Mer-Stella-Tail-That-Has-No-Ending.

Mer-Stella-Tail

That-Has-No-Ending, because of the vastness of her, was barely able to move. Her job was to wait, curled around the earth, while life evolved. She waited through the bacteria, through the algae, until eventually after millions of years the fish arrived. And as she waited she shrank herself little by little to make room for the dry lands and their creatures.

All Mer-Stella-Tail-That-Has-No-Ending had were her thoughts to keep her company, and at first that was enough. Over eons her thoughts became more and more powerful. She discovered that she could move herself with her thinking, and influence the way she flowed. Many a happy century was spent creating currents, experimenting with the speed and height of waterfalls, and what she took the most pride in the creation of huge spumescent sculptures. But everything wears thin, and there was still a long time with nothing to do, so she found a mate and, in due course, hatched a merling. She thought the child would amuse her, but no: the merling was too demanding, too here-there-and-everywhere. It would not obey her as water did. She couldnt wait to be free of it.

Mer-Stella-Tail-That-Has-No-Ending squeezed foam and sand together and created a long ribbon of rippling water that surged from the palm of her hand to her daughters tail, so she would always know where the child was, and if she needed to a short tug of her wrist would bring her back.

The daughter loved this frill, loved the way it reflected the light from the Upworlds, loved the way it danced and twisted behind her. And, mostly, she behaved.

Mer-Stella-Tail-That-Has-No-Ending hatched more daughters, along with the occasional son, and made each of them a frill. Most of the merlings were ordinary mermaids, but some had inherited their mothers powers to varying degrees and, as they grew, they found that they could manipulate the waters as she did.

These were known as the Stella Mermaids, and in all there were seven. Considered too powerful to inhabit the same watery kingdoms without unleashing chaos, the seven Stella Mermaids were nonetheless aware of each others existence. They remained mysterious, however, and some were even a mystery to themselves, having not yet come into their powers.

One of the seven disliked how the frill tugged at her, tethered her, towed her back into line, and she found a way to free herself from the great mother, Mer-Stella-Tail-That-Has-No-Ending. When she was free, she cared for nothing but herself.

And this is why the oceans are never the same from day to day. When the daughters of Mer-Stella-Tail-That-Has-No-Ending are happy, the waters are restless, sparkling and playful. When her daughters do not please her, there are violent storms, and rivers break their banks, as she yanks on the frill that connects them to her. Finally, when the oceans are dreadful and becalmed, it is because of the one who broke the bond of love, and who because there is no mother to caution her lives a life without conscience or kindness.

The Fading

Things happen and directions change

Ringlet blamed the squid.

Mer Spirulina, waving around her broken baton, blamed Ringlet, saying that never in her twenty years of conducting the Great Choir of Mermelodia had anyone ever managed to break all of the rules, and all at once.

It had started with Platinum singing exquisitely, as she always did, and the others all bobbing gently in the current waiting their turn, faces shining and hopeful, coiffed hair soft in the sea light, and then from nowhere there was a shell-splitting noise, and before Mer Spirulina knew it, her beautiful baton was in two pieces and the mermaids were screaming hysterically their hair no longer proudly and perfectly styled in the usual blondes and blues, reds and browns but disgusting, sticky vomit-green messes. And a stinkiferous smell was filling the shellorium causing everyone to gag.

Worst of all she, Mer Spirulina, was as bald as a bunion. And Ringlet was to blame. There was no doubt in Mer Spirulinas mind.

You must leave, she screeched, and leave immediately. And take that wretched creature with you whats he doing here anyway? Look what youve done to my choir. Euphonious to cacophonous in one fell swoop!

Ringlet didnt want to look. She could hear and smell and that was bad enough. The mermaids were shouting now.

Who did this?

Its a catastrophe.

What a mean trick.

Wait till I find out youll be sorry.

And Frizz shoved Bangs and Bangs threw up on Puffs tail and Puff pointed at Ringlet.

You, up the front, its your fault.

Your fault your fault your fault, said the mermaids, who were always happiest doing things in unison.

No, no, said Ringlet, who tried to make herself heard above the din. It wasnt my fault, not really. I was just being friendly, or at least trying to. The squid

But Mer Spirulina did not hear or care to. She was at the height of her formidable oratory powers and there was no stopping her.

By Stella, she said, her voice crescendoing in a throaty roar, do not return until youve found another baton. To replace this irreplaceable

Twig, said Ringlet. Its just a twig, isnt it? It cant be that hard to replace.

Priceless antique, handed down through generations of grandmothers.

Mer Spirulina ran her hand over her bald head, gave a peculiar little sob and then, more peculiarly, seemed to deflate. She couldnt even raise her eyes to look at the mermaid hovering in front of her.

I was trying to help, said Ringlet in a tiny voice. And anyway, whoever made the rule that says squids arent allowed

Mer Spirulina, still deflating, did not answer, so in full view of hundreds of glaring green-haired mermaids including the divinely beautiful once-was Platinum in the front row Ringlet gathered up the squid, gave her tail a defiant flick, swam down the central aisle of the crystalline dome where the daily choir practice took place, grabbed Iskee from the doggy day-care in the foyer and skedaddled.

She hovered in the deep waters by the Great Gates of the Kelplands. The squid had long since gone. That stupid squibby squid, she thought. If only Id known.

Iskee started wriggling in her arms. Ringlet stroked his soft ears and scratched the happy spot between them that the merdog couldnt get to.

Promise youll be my friend forever? she whispered in one soft ear.

Iskee leaned against her and she closed her eyes. She felt the itchy tickle of his tongue on her cheek.

Ringlet giggled. Enough. Lets go and find this baton. We need to look on the bright side. It might even be an adventure.