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- Herausgeber: BookRix
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
There is, they say, a mermaid in all women. Others say mermaids are the creation of the mind of men. But that is for others to debate. Mermaids have existed now in fable and legend for millenia, but there likely was a time when mermaids did not have a golden comb nor a mirror; they made do, as many women do today, with what was around them.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
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The Mermaid and the Golden Comb
and other stories
To all mermaids everywhere, to Dani Huppel who studied the Golden Comb, and to Marita Lück for her version of Heather Blether.BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 MunichThe Mermaid and the Golden Comb
There was an island called Stromboli with a big active volcano in the middle.
In the bays on the fringe of the island swam a mermaid, so poor that she did not have a comb nor a mirror. She combed her hair with the claws of a crab and she used the surface of the sea to look at her reflection.
Her beauty was noticed by a handsome young pearl diver when he dived to the sea bed seeking pearls and the herb of immortality.
He surfaced beside her.
“Why do you not use a mirror?” he asked as she gazed into the water.
“I use the surface of the sea,” she replied.
“But it is not always smooth and you have no comb.”
“I use these,” she said touching the crab claws hanging round her neck.
The young pearl diver, struck by the thunderbolt of love, promised to get her a mirror of her own and a proper comb, a golden comb.
In his time on the beach, the pearl diver had been collecting sea glass - that smoothed and frosted glass that is cast up on the strand.
He had a large basket of it in his hut.
He went ashore and taking his basket made for the volcano. There he got close as he could to the molten lava as it rivers to the sea.
In the solidified lava close to the lava flow he cut a shallow disc shape with a narrow rectangle for the handle.
He cut a channel from the molten lava into the mould – the red lava rushed in, then he tipped the green sea glass onto the top until it covered the surface and the glass slowly melted; from the jumble of shapes it became flat and smooth.
He sat down to wait for it to cool.
After some hours he carefully prised the now mirror from the mould - it was so flat it gave a perfect reflection.
Now for the comb.
He knew the legend of the Golden Whale and the making of a comb from it, used by the Sea Goddess to comb her hair, and thus weaving the web of life in the sea.
He swam to the cave where the Sea Goddess Mara lived.
The goddess was reclining on a bed of green seaweed and red sea sponges. Her body glistened copper brown, her hair of pearl mystique turquoise rose up in a coiled bun pinned with a long orange spiral ribbed sea shell. She wore a shell necklace of small white cowrie, likewise cowrie anklets and wrist bands.
Across her chest pink scallop shells supported her breasts whilst around her waist hung a fringe of turtle shell strips on a thong.
She focussed her avocado green eyes on him.
“Come closer.”
The pearl diver was known to the Sea Goddess – he had special permission to take twenty five pearls a year – a limited harvest to protect the oyster beds.
“What brings you here? “said Mara studying him closely.
The pearl diver explained the story of the poor mermaid.
The Sea Goddess understood the plight of the mermaid. Not to have a comb meant hair got all tangled and unruly, and the course of one’s life could go the same way.
“But,” she said, “there is only one golden comb, it is in my possession.”
The pearl diver replied,
