As the sea hag watched Momo swim out of sight, she laughed bitterly. What a fool! she said to herself. If I could do as much for her as she thinks I can, I’d do more for myself. I’d enjoy better health and live in a finer house. Ha! They’re all fools.
The sea hag brushed the thought from her mind, sighed, and brooded in the loneliness of her crude dwelling made from the bones of dead humans. A toad-like sea creature swam up and settled on her lap. It was the only sea creature that dared come near her place, and she loved it as a pet. The sea hag looked into the distance.
She dimly remembered a time before she had become known as the sea hag. She was young once. She was pretty. She loved a merman, and he loved her in return. That was more than a hundred years before the events of this story took place.
She dimly remembered a time before she had become known as the sea hag. She was young once. She was pretty. She loved a merman, and he loved her in return. That was more than a hundred years before the events of this story took place.
In those days, she was better known as Yelayta the traditional healer, and many people spoke of going to see her. Her husband Bastiat had been an advisor Wayan, the king of the merfolk—the father of the present king of the merfolk, Wayan II. Those were happier times, attending court balls at the sea palace and enjoying the respect of mermen and mermaids alike.
She had many visitors to her happy home—so many, in fact, that hardly a day passed without one hearing someone say they would see her.
Alas, Yelayta’s happy existence came crashing to an end. Fishing boats came to the area above the Kingdom of Marbella. That was a common enough occurrence. The fishermen were using nets to catch tune; that, too, was a common occurrence. This time it would be different.
Bastiat and other mermen rushed to the area of the fishing boats, trying to keep dolphins away from the nets. Dolphins and merfolk, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, were friends—and friends take care to look out for friends.
Bastiat and other mermen rushed to the area of the fishing boats, trying to keep dolphins away from the nets. Dolphins and merfolk, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, were friends—and friends take care to look out for friends.
Tuna fishermen don’t really want to catch dolphins, but some of them use the kind of nets that catch dolphins anyway. Since dolphins are air breathers, they can get tangled in the nets and drown. And since dolphins tend to be friendly and trusting toward people, they sometimes fail to see the dangers that net fishermen pose to them.
One such dolphin foolishly ignored the mermen’s warnings and got tangled in a. fishing net. Bastiat, caring more for the safety of the dolphin than for his own safety, swam straight for the net to rescue the dolphin. The dolphin escaped and safely swam away, but Bastiat became entangled in the net.
Mermen can breathe in the air or in the water, so there was no chance of Bastiat dying as a result of being away from either. Yalayta watched in horror. After the net was hauled aboard the fishing boat, the other mermen followed the boat in hopes that the fishermen would throw poor Bastiat back into the sea as an unwanted catch.
No one ever saw Bastiat again.
When a mermaid’s husband dies, no one sees her in the same way again. To married merfolk, she’s suddenly single; thus, she’s no longer invited to events that involve couples. To merfolk who have not mated, the suddenly single mermaid is still seen as unlike mermaids who have not yet mated. Then there’s the question, “What do you say to a grieving mermaid whose mate is not actually known to be dead?”
Like many people on land, Yelayta’s former friends simply left her to grieve alone. Alone is how she remained for the next hundred years, and everyone forgot the names Bastiat and Yelayta.
It’s often helpful to be alone from time to time, but it’s unhealthy to live unhappily alone for a hundred years. Social graces are forgotten, friendships fade, strangers become suspicious, suspicions become hatred, and bitterness has time to fester.
Yelayta, the pretty, outgoing young mermaid, gradually became old, bitter, hateful, hated, and alone. In short, she became the sea hag. Hag, it seems is a word people use for an older woman whom people have chosen to reject. Degrading words such as hag provide a means for rejecting someone while placing the blame for the rejection on the person we reject.
It’s often helpful to be alone from time to time, but it’s unhealthy to live unhappily alone for a hundred years. Social graces are forgotten, friendships fade, strangers become suspicious, suspicions become hatred, and bitterness has time to fester.
Yelayta, the pretty, outgoing young mermaid, gradually became old, bitter, hateful, hated, and alone. In short, she became the sea hag. Hag, it seems is a word people use for an older woman whom people have chosen to reject. Degrading words such as hag provide a means for rejecting someone while placing the blame for the rejection on the person we reject.
Visitors no longer came to see Yalayta. Sadder still, the oft-spoken words, “I’ll see Yelayta,” became nothing more than a figure of speech.
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