Girl at the Bottom of the Sea by Michelle Tea Page B

motion of a new current at the bottom of the sea. A rippling, a whirling. The girl was stretched out as if upon a magic carpet of water, thick with salt and sand, alive with primal intelligence. The water responded to Sophie as it did the moon. The girl had created a tide, and the waters rushed together and brought her forward, stopping short before the mermaid. They idled there, the harmonious interaction of a million drops of water, and Sophie could feel them all, buzzing like a hive of bees working in concert, with her as a conductor. When the current stopped short Sophie exploded into giggles.
    â€œI get it!” she cheered, wild with glee. “The water is alive !”
    â€œEverything is alive,” Syrena nodded, pleased. “Everything is alive, and has its own magic. This you will see, my girl.” The mermaid smiled so wide that Sophie caught a glimpse of the gritty baleen tucked above her teeth. “Now, you swim. Not like girl, not like mermaid. Like Odmieńce.”

Chapter 7
    A nd so the two shot off into the waters, in the direction of the North Sea, where the Swilkie spun itself atop the surface, a great white froth. Syrena pushed through the ocean with her muscular tail, her head bowed down, her arms forming a knife that cleaved the waters.
    Beside her, Sophie worked the sea, not so much with her body as her mind. With great focus she commanded the waves and they carried her with a swiftness that rivaled the mermaid herself. Syrena tilted her head at her charge, smirking through the net of hair webbed in her face.
    â€œYou think you so smart now, huh? You think you faster than mermaid?” Her tail thundered behind her and she moved through the waters like pure sound.
    â€œHa!” Sophie spat. “You think you’re faster than water itself?” And the current surged violently, propelling Sophie forward and knocking Syrena off course with the strength of its waves.
    â€œOkay, okay!” the mermaid tumbled, waving her arms. She looked like Sophie once had, twisting dumbly in the waters. The girl felt a pang at the sight, to see such a noble, capable creature fumbling in her element. She stilled the current, feeling it treading beneath her, alive and waiting direction.
    â€œI’m sorry!” Sophie hollered. Syrena had collected herself, smoothing her tangles against her temples and tucking the locks behind her ears. Her pride appeared to have a dent in it.
    â€œIs okay,” the mermaid grumbled. “I ask for it. I just happy you swimming, okay? Why do I care if you faster than me?”
    It appeared to Sophie that the mermaid did care, but she politely pretended not to notice. “Syrena, were you really going to leave me out here? Or send me back to Chelsea on a dolphin or whatever?”
    â€œIf you not real magic girl, ya.” She nodded. “If you not real magic, the plan not to work. You just get hurt, I get hurt, all the mermaids, everyone. You best be home, then. But”—her smile twinkled, the glow of her talisman flashing her canines—“I know you be magic girl. I always know. I just need to make you fight sometimes.”
    A feeling of longing swept over Sophie—she wanted to hug Syrena, but she knew the mermaid would never allow it. How she missed some tenderness! Her mother, Angel, the flutter of soft pigeon wings against her cheek. This work was hard . How she’d love something gentle to offset the struggle. But Syrena would not give that to her. It wasn’t the mermaid’s way. Sophie knew Syrena cared about her—she’d brought her to the middle of the Atlantic on her own back, fedher from the tangles of her hair. Syrena believed in her. But she wasn’t going to give her a hug. Sophie pushed the need away and did her best to emulate the mermaid—proud, tough, cool. Syrena was cool, Sophie realized. Like, probably the coolest person Sophie’d ever met. Well, not “person,” exactly,