Phases: Week Two
Welcome to week two of phases, where we explore the transformation of bodies and minds. Change is hard, but sometimes staying the same is harder.
Yumara and Ocean
By Mara Moon
This is Yumara and Ocean, a two headed mermaid that I created which was inspired by H.P. Lovecraft’s fish people. Yumara and Ocean were once humans. This is their story.
While out with friends, Yumara and Ocean spotted a small island in the distance. They convinced their friends to dock at the island so they could explore it a little. After unsuccessfully begging their friends to come explore with them, they settled on the idea of going out alone while their travel companions stayed behind to make some dinner and they agreed to make it back before the sun went down. This wasn’t the first time Yumara and Ocean’s adventurous side took control. Both of them loved finding new things to study and this island looked perfect. It was beautiful, but more in a gothic way. The buildings around them were old and gray. As they were walking down a cobblestoned pathway, Yumara stopped and looked around dramatically, like she was just figuring something out for the first time. She looked at Ocean and asked where all the people were. Ocean searched with her eyes to see if she saw any movement in any of the building around them. She was just about to tell Yumara how creeped out she was, when suddenly there was a scream in the distance. They stared at each other for a split second, asking so many questions with just one look, hoping their friends were okay. Yumara grabbed Ocean’s hand and turned around to quickly head back the way they had come. To their surprise, there was a hooded figure standing directly in front of them. The figure just stood in place and it seemed everyone was frozen in time. Finally, Ocean, still holding Yumaras hand, quickly headed in between two buildings and pulled Yumara with her. They started running towards the dock where their boat was. As they got closer, they realized the boat was leaving them! They heard their friends screaming something but couldn’t understand what they were saying. As Yumara and Ocean stared in disbelief at their friends leaving them, the hooded figure moved with unnatural speed and was suddenly standing right next to Yumara. The hooded figure quickly grabbed Yumara’s arm before she could run away again. Before she even knew what was happening or what she was feeling, her knees buckled and she heard a scream. It dawned on her that she was the one screaming.The pain was indescribable. Ocean immediately tried to pull Yumara free, but as her skin united with Yumaras, she too, fell to her knees. Ocean opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. It felt like she was being electrocuted by a million jelly fish. Ocean watched Yumara fall unconsciousness as the searing pain became too much to handle. As blackness started to fill Ocean’s vision too, terror flooded her mind as she noticed it was not a hand that had grabbed onto Yumara, but a slimy gray tentacle, and it was still coiled around her best friends arm.
Ocean opened her eyes and quickly realized she was floating in water that was about waist deep.
It was dark and it took her eyes a while to adjust. She was in a small stone room, the only light source was coming from the moonlight shining through the cracks of the wooden ceiling. She scanned the room with her eyes and didn’t see a way out. She noticed a door far above her head. It was closer to the ceiling than it was to the floor. Without a ladder or some other way to climb up, there was no way to reach it. The room and the water were dark and it took her a while for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and see Yumara floating in the corner with only her head bobbing above the water. She fought against the water and reached Yumara. She quickly lifted Yumara up and started shaking her awake. Yumara opened her eyes, stared blankly for a moment, and then wrapped her arms around Ocean. Ocean started crying and Yumara fought the urge to cry along with her friend, but instead she told Ocean that this wasn’t the time for tears because they have to figure a way out of this. Ocean showed the door to Yumara and they both started searching the room for anything that could help them. As they were searching they realized the water level was actually rising very slowly. This made them panic at first, thinking of being trapped in a room that might run out of air soon, but Yumara pointed out that if the water level rose high enough, they would be able to reach the door. They decided to see if they could find the source of the water so maybe they could get it to fill the room faster. Yumara took a big breath and went under the water to see if she could see where the water was coming from. She felt along the walls under water and couldn’t find anything. Ocean decided to look under, hoping the moonlight would be enough light for her to see. She stuck her head under, opened her eyes, and scanned the murky water. Right when her eyes started to burn under water, she saw something in the corner, but couldn’t make out what it was. She pointed it out to Yumara and they made their way over to it. Deciding to go under the water together to find out what it was, they counted to three and went under again. They saw metal bars on the floor fitting snuggly in the corner and it was just big enough for about one person to fit through. After trying to loosen and lift the metal bars unsuccessfully, they returned to the surface. Yumara pointed out how much the water had risen and judged that they were almost half way to the door now.
They were exhausted mentally and physically and needed a break. Although neither of them mentioned it to the other, they could hear a dreadful whisper radiating through their skull. The whisper haunted their thoughts and both Yumara and Ocean did their best to try to put it out of their minds. When they would try to concentrate on the whisper to hear what it was saying, it would pound louder in their heads and the language being whispered wasn’t any language either of them had ever heard before. When the rising water level was finally almost high enough to reach the door, Yumara tried to lift Ocean up to reach the door knob but with nothing to hold on to, Yumara would be pushed further into the water making the doorknob out of reach. They had no choice but to wait for the water level to raise high enough for them to reach the door. Neither of them knew how long they had been trapped in this room or how long they had been unconscious. Ocean complained that her legs were starting to cramp up from swimming too long. Yumara admitted the same thing was happening to her. Eventually the water did rise enough for them to reach the door. Yumara immediately tried turning the door knob, but of course it was locked. They tried banging the door down by using their combined strength, but it wasn’t budging. They were running out of strength and if they were able to get out through the door, then they would be drowned in this room once the water level raised high enough. Yumara asked Ocean what they should do now, as tears ran down her cheeks. Ocean tried to be strong for her friend, but she knew there was nothing left to do. Ocean wrapped her arms around Yumara and hugged her tightly. She began humming their favorite song as a way to comfort Yumara, but also herself. They clung to one enough as the whispering in their heads became louder. Yumara squeezed her eyes shut, too frightened to open them again. She squeezed Ocean even tighter as they both bobbed up and down in the water. The whispering stopped abruptly and before either of them could move, a bright green light took over the whole room. They felt a volt of electricity go throughout their whole bodies, causing pain to sear within their very souls. They couldn’t move and they were stuck hugging each other. Yumara and Ocean tried to open their eyes but couldn’t. The pain continued to get worse and they could feel it searing and slithering in every inch of their bodies. Just as Ocean started to beg for death, the pain stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
Yumara opened her eyes first. The room was no longer lit with the green light, but still seemed brighter than it had been before. Ocean scanned the room but her head was spinning and she felt confused. She tried to focus but felt different. The taste of salt filled her mouth. As the spinning confusion started to subside, Yumara started to see why she felt different. She WAS different. Her body was not the same body she had arrived with. She slowly ran her eyes from her arm to her hand. She no longer had fingers, but a claw. Her skin was now orange and her legs were gone! In place of her legs was a fish tail! She tried to move her tail but was struggling. In a panic she started looking around for Ocean. The fog that had taken over her brain cleared and she realized she could hear Ocean moaning right next to her. Ocean’s eyes were wide open and she looked shocked. Yumara moved to comfort her friend but was still struggling to move the way she wanted to. Ocean had noticed that she too, was different. She also had a claw hand and her body was blue. Ocean began to scream and Yumara tried to reach up to cover her ears but only her right hand moved. The screaming stopped and she frantically looked around. That’s when she saw everything. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t notice it before. It was like her brain was blocking it out. Her and Ocean were sharing a body, and not an ordinary human body, but some sort of mermaid sea creature body! It took Ocean a lot longer to see the truth but she eventually did. Once they were both on the same page and realized they were now a fish creature with one body, they started trying to move together. They had to coordinate their movements together because they were both in control of the body and only their hands and heads were their own.
Yumara and Ocean practiced moving until they were able to swim down to the floor. The bars that were previously closed in the corner were now open and they swam through to the other side. As they were swimming, they realized they could breathe underwater. They didn’t quite know what to do next so they kept swimming for a while. They eventually came back to the surface to see where they were. They were close to the dock where they made that fateful decision to explore this island. Flashes of their friends laughing and then screaming flew in their minds. They wondered if they would ever see them again. They decided to swim to the dock, not knowing what their next move would be. The hooded figure that had kidnapped them appeared on the dock. Ocean begged for answers to why this was happening to them. The figure removed the cloak and revealed a shirtless man who had gills, webbed hands and feet, and eyes that looked like they belonged to a fish. At first the girls were startled, but their anger took over. They demanded for this creature to tell them what the hell was going on. He told them to watch. Yumara and Ocean stared at the man and watched with fascination as the mans webbed hands and feet started to morph into human hands and feet. He explained that he was once a fish and one day he discovered a cave that had markings on it and it whispered to him to come inside. Once inside, he found an ancient sea god who told him that if he brought humans to the sea, he could trade them for human parts of his own. He could be a human. Every human he gave to the sea, he gained another human part for himself. The man bluntly told Yumara and Ocean that they would get used to living as a sea creature and that being humanwas just a phase in their now long lives. Eventually they would lose all of their humanity and forget all about what it was like to be human. They would live for eternity and become one with the sea.
How Old Am I?
By Laura Creedle
I’m in this phase of my life when I realize I am newly old.
That’s not old—old, where you don’t leave the house for anything other than doctor’s appointments and water aerobics. And it’s definitely not super fucking old, where you are a wizened raisin version of your former self, dispensing heart warming platitudes and sage advice for achieving 100+ years, blowing out candles in a nursing home for the local news, which we all know is aspiration porn for the old—old.
I’m just old.
Having recently achieved the status of old, I don’t have a lot of sage advice to give. If I had one piece of wisdom for those on well on the journey to being old, it would be this: Care a little bit less about your success, your finances, or how many likes you got on tik tok or instagram, and you’ll spend less time in a darkened room trying to slow your breathing.
That’s all I got.
As to heart warming platitudes, I only have one:
You’re as young as you feel!
This might sound like something you’d find on a giant wooden plaque in the cut out bin at the Hobby Lobby, or crocheted on your grandmother’s pillow that your mom surreptitiously dropped off at Goodwill when the old lady died. Banal and meaningless, but say it out loud.
You’re as young as you feel!
You’re as young as you feel!
You’re as young as you feel!
Say this over and over, and you will realize the full import of this statement. There are many phases in life. None of them are guaranteed and few of them are easy. Time is not a linear progression for the human heart.
You’re as young as you feel! —It’s a recipe for chaos.
*****
When I wrote my first published novel, I was in my early fifties, but I felt like I was thirteen. I was in a graduate program and it wasn’t going well. I did my homework all wrong. I didn’t understand the directions. My professors made sad, I-know-you’re-trying-but-you-keep-messing-up faces at me. I had terrible wrenching stomach aches before every class, just like I had at thirteen.
Also, I was in the throes of menopausal mood swings, which gave me big you’re-not-the-boss-of-me energy. I argued with bitter adolescent fervor, but with the linguistic and rational capacities of a grown woman. Consequently, my professors hated me.
This hurt my very thirteen-year-old feelings.
The program was deeply flawed and older me could write a dissertation on the lack of thoughtful inclusion for ND students, but that’s not the point.
I was horrible, and everybody hated me! They wanted me to go away and do something else.
Fine!
I’ll show you!
I’ll write a book!
Which I did.
And it got published.
And then I had to be an adult again.
*****
The oldest I’ve ever felt in my life was when I was thirty-four. My dad had just died, my mom was terminally ill. I had a one-year-old daughter who learned to walk at nine months, moved instantly to climbing everything she could find, furniture, bookcases, stairs, and very shortly after to throwing her self off things.
I was thirty-four and my reflexes were good enough too catch her every single time.
The rest of me was ninety. I had heart palpitations. My hopes and dreams consisted of surviving to the next day.
Ninety.
My children are adults now, my parents long dead. Neither of of my parents really made it to the newly old stage, so I have to look elsewhere for role models.
And for that, I had my mother-in-law. She was a great old person, and by that, I don’t mean one of those never-been-sick-a-day-in-my-life health nuts, who run their first marathon at eighty. So you won the genetic old-people lottery—good for you.
That was not my mother-in-law. She had advanced rheumatoid arthritis and by the time she reached newly old age, she was mostly incapacitated.
She never talked about it.
Once, a visitor asked how she was doing. She answered —“Now why would I ruin a perfectly good conversation by telling you that?” She was the Dorothy Parker of old people. She valued sparkling conversation and a stiff drink above all else.
I came to her apartment one night after she’d fallen. Her arm was clearly broken, bone poking out through the skin. She asked for help getting to bed, and for a scotch on the rock. She absolutely refused to go to the emergency room
“What if you’ve broken a rib?” I asked. “You could have punctured your lung.”
“Well then, you better make it a double,” she quipped.
Which brings me to the lesson I learned about being newly old from my mother-in-law. She had every Nsaid, steroid and opioid available, but she preferred a couple of stiff drinks at the end of the evening.
“Works just as well,” she said. “And it’s much more social.”
My arthritis isn’t nearly as bad as hers, but I don’t have any cartilage in my right knee. My left foot is and inoperable bag of rocks. I had surgery on both thumb, which allows me to limited mobility, enough to type.
I’m not supposed to pick up anything heavier than a large orange, or a double martini.
Since my last thumb surgery, I’ have hefted many a double martini. My M-I-L was right— it really takes the edge off.
Except….
I have a small benign pituitary tumor which causes me to be insatiably thirsty all the time unless I take an artificial hormone called desmopressin. All of this is great, a real medical happy ending except that the side of the desmopressin bottle says —“do not use alcohol with this medication.”
To which I said— You’re not the boss of me, medication bottle!
I’m not a fool, I checked the side effects. All that happens if you drink on desmopressin is that it doesn’t work as well.
So I continued drinking.
That was fine for four months, but then I woke up one day and I was insatiably thirsty again.
So I stopped drinking.
Two martinis a day might seem like alcoholic territory, and maybe I’m in denial here, but I don’t think I’m an alcoholic. It was easy to quit. I feel better, actually. For the most part.
It’s still a shock when I crawl in bed each night and I can feel every single joint in my body.
I’m experimenting with gummies.
I’ve waited for the psychological effects of quitting, but all I feel is a little uncertain about things. Slightly destabilized. I miss the cozy layer of gin that buffered my bad joints and self-doubt.
Now I am twenty-three again. I’ve fallen into some bad habits, and maybe I’m not getting as much done or moving as fast as some of the people around me, but it’s not too late to change.
Twenty-three. An age where disillusionment and hopefulness meet in a smack down, and if you’re lucky hopefulness wins. There are worse things to be.