The Beauty of Water

This is an entry for the Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2022. Votes are appreciated.

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Lana Grace Barill. All youth and beauty and feral in nature. She led me into an endless summer of bliss I hadn't experienced since my teens and I dwelt there like a king.

My trip to hedonism began with my dad, Lance Barill. Dad is a complex, mountain of a man best known as a big wave surfer who ruled the waves in the '80's. While we called Huntington Beach home, he spent six months out of the year in Hawaii surfing Pipeline in North Shore for purse money. What mom didn't know was that dad had a secret family in Waimea. He'd shacked up with an Australian female pro-surfer and their union produced two boys. Mom found out and divorced him. With that, Lance Barill's family was split into two: the mainland Barills and the Waimea Barills. We were a family divided by bitter feelings as vast as the Pacific Ocean.

When I was twenty five, I flew to Hawaii to watch dad's last big wave ride before he retired. He'd bought a food truck popular with the surfing crowd called 69 Burritos where, for twenty years, he's been making sixty-nine different kinds of burritos and signing autographs for those who remembered his surfing prowess. After dad's last surfing competition, where he received a life time achievement trophy, we all went back to his house for a pig roast luau. I found myself hanging out with my half-brothers, Gage and Chase. It was then that I met the newest Barill; a five year old half-sister named Lana. She was a rough and tumble little tomboy with curly lemon blonde hair. I remember her running after us on the beach with her little boogie board under her arm trying to keep up with her much older brothers as we hit the surf with our boards.

Fourteen years later, dad called me for a favor.

"Lana got into UCLA."

"Good for her."

"Yeah, well you know, L.A. is expensive and her apartment won't be ready until August. She needs to be in L.A. before her classes start for orientation, buy books and shit, and with money being tight and all, and you living just a few miles away from the campus, I hate to ask but can she stay at your house for a few weeks? I know you don't owe me or her, but I'm asking you to look after your sister. She's an island girl and, you know, L.A is treacherous for pretty little things. They just use 'em like cum rags and throw them away."

The last thing I wanted was a shallow, self-absorbed teenager invading my space but he was right. L.A. is brutal. I felt obliged to look after my half-sister.

"Sure dad. No problem."

He sounded relieved; and as he thanked me over and over again and promised that she'd pay rent, I wondered what had I signed up for.

Lana's flight from Honolulu arrived on time on a warm summer evening. Standing in the busy terminal, I was prickly with excitement. It was a big deal that she was here. Seldom does a Waimea Barill travel to the mainland let alone go to a prestigious university. Though I was prepared for the worst kind of angst a teenage girl had to offer, I was looking forward to meeting the grown version of the little girl I'd once met.

I stood beyond the security barrier, craning my head to scan the endless line of people coming down the escalator for a girl I wouldn't recognize. She wouldn't know me from Adam so I sent her a selfie. I'm the dimple cheeked, blue eyed guy with facial scruff darker than my dirty blond hair wearing jeans, a black polo shirt and flips flops. She replied with a heart emoji. We wandered around the bustling terminal, triangulating our positions with landmarks before I finally spotted her; a fresh scrubbed girl with a mass of loose blonde curls. She was a nineteen year old girl-next-door dressed in white jeans and a pink MAUI sweatshirt. Though she was of average height, her legs looked long in those jeans.

She finally spotted me. Her face was serene and dreamy as though she'd just awaken from a dream. She sauntered towards me lugging her carry-on behind her until she stopped to open her arms.

She drawled "Dane."

She pulled me in for a sincere sisterly hug. I'm ashamed to say that I enjoyed the way her body melded against mine. When we pulled apart, I looked into her eyes. They weren't dark Barill blue. They were light blue with a burst of pale yellow. And her smile, it was dazzling. She looked nothing like dad. She looked like some innocent wild child who'd just stepped out of a Hawaiian wilderness and into the jaws of Los Angeles. I felt very protective of her already.

We made small talk as we walked to baggage area to collect her many bags. She hustled to keep pace with my long strides. In the midst of her chatter, she blurted out, "Oh, and I got a job."

"Already? Where?"

"Mizuko."

"The place with the giant aquarium?"

She nodded. "Yep. I'm going to be a mermaid there."

"A mermaid, huh? Where'd you learn how to be a mermaid? Do you have be certified or something?"

"There's no certification. I have good underwater breath control from being on a synchronized swim team in high school. I went to mermaid school in Honolulu for six weeks. A friend of mine recorded me underwater, put it on TikTok, and the offers rolled in from aquarium bars all over the world. Hong Kong, Dubai, Singapore, Mizuko. So cool. Is Santa Monica far from your house?"

"It's about a thirty minute drive. We'll make it work. I'm happy for you. Congratulations."

We loaded Lana's luggage into the hatch back of my Subaru before climbing inside. Lana wasted no time pulling out her phone. Her thumbs and fingers moved at an amazing speed as they poked at the screen to tap out secret messages. We had left the airport to join the heavy northbound traffic when she suddenly leaned onto my shoulder to snap a selfie of us. She flashed the picture my way. With her face against my mine, lit by twilight's orange glow, we looked like a California tourism ad. She promptly posted it on-line and it didn't take line for her phone to ding with responses.

"My friends think you're hot. Candice says I lucked out in the sugar daddy department. 'He's my brother,'" she said out loud as she keyed the words. "Madison called you a 'Zaddy'. She wants to slide into your DMs. Play your cards right and I'll get you laid."

"Hey," I chided her overfamiliarity, but secretly, some girls saying that I'm hot made me feel optimistic about life.

She returned her gaze to her phone and naively blurted out, "So you and Shannyn got a divorce. Sorry to hear about that. What happened?"

I gnashed my teeth and sighed at the mention of my ex-wife's name. Our divorce was only ten months old. I was still raw about it.

"We just grew apart. Sometimes shit doesn't work out the way you want it to, know what I mean?

She nodded sympathetically.

"You okay with pizza?" I asked, in hopes of lightening the mood.

"Yeah, sure."

The sun had finally set when we arrived at my three bedroom house I bought with my half of the money from the sale of my over-valued marital McMansion. This house is much better. Sure, it's a small sixty year old house located in the San Fernando valley, but it has a pool and a sound studio I built in the front room. It's my little piece of suburban heaven.

We lugged her bags into my house and straight to my bedroom, where I set them down on my bed and chair. "I'm giving you my bedroom."

"No, don't. I don't want to put you out."

"No, I want you to have this room. It's bigger than the guest bedroom and has its own bathroom. I already moved my stuff into the spare room across the hall, so no worries."

She smiled. "Thanks, Dane."

After Lana freshened up, she joined me at the kitchen table where I set out plates before sitting down and opening the pizza box. We quietly ate our dinner, with the TV droning in the adjacent family room, until I wiped my mouth and said, "I'd like to go over the ground rules for the house. There aren't that many."

"Okay."

"First of all, you don't have to pay rent. I know, I know. Your dad gave me rent money but we'll put that towards your food and any other charges like data fees. You should have a good two thousand dollars left over. You can use it for school or whatever."

She gave me the warmest smile. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

"Yeah, no problem. Uh, no random guys in the house. I don't have a problem with you having friends over but if someone is coming over, let me know ahead of time. I work here and have a lot of expensive sound equipment so don't bring back some stranger you picked up in a club."

"Okay."

"Clean up after yourself and keep your bedroom clean. I have a cleaning woman that comes in twice a month but don't make her life difficult. No eating in the bedroom, okay?"

"Yep."

"No smoking cigarettes in the house. I do smoke weed. Do you smoke weed?"

She blushed. "Sometimes."

"I only smoke in the music room."

"Music room?"

"Yeah, come on. Let me show you."

She followed me through the family room to the smallest bedroom near the garage. Upon opening the door, her eyes widened at the sight of my decked out seventies' party room. Beige shag carpet floor covered the floor. An orange bean bag took up one corner while a twin size futon rested against a wall. Milk crates containing my record collection sat beneath a collage of vintage rock concert posters tacked up on the southern wall. Beside my old stereo system were my three guitars secured on their stands. And just in case the room wasn't fun enough, I have a lava lamp on some shelving above my childhood desk and a two foot orange glass bong. Though Lana seemed fascinated by it all, it was the record collection that held her attention.

"Records, cool."

"Yeah. Most of them are dad's. He left them behind when he took up with your mom."

A memory of that clear blue sky day when I saved dad's records from the trash heap after my mom threw them out came crashing into my head.

"Can I play them?" she asked.

"No. I'll play them for you. Anyways, this is where I smoke. You're welcome to join me but don't ever, ever get into my stash."

"Please. I prefer gummies."

"And that's why you're my favorite sister."

"I'm your only sister. So do you play?" she asked, picking up my polar blue Stratocaster.

"Yeah. I was in a band."

"Did you make it big?"

"Naw. We played a lot frat parties and beach bars."

"What was your band's name?"

"Spunk."

She rolled her eyes and chuckled. I took the guitar from her hands and returned it to the rack before shooing her from the room. "Out. Get out. And what's a 'zaddy'?"

She giggled. "An older man with like big dick energy. A sexy daddy; zaddy."

We returned to the kitchen table to finish our meal and after eating, Lana washed her plate and retired to her bedroom. I did the same.

It's funny how youth can make one re-examine one's own life. Inside my room, I gazed at myself in a full length mirror. I was still good looking; dark stubble on a square jaw and shaggy dirty blond hair, blue eyes and a recently whitened smile. I had a bit of a paunch from my bachelor diet of beer, pizza and Cheetos. Stripping off my shirt, I decided it was time to stop grieving over my failed marriage; it's time to make a change. I awoke early the next morning, stretched, and took a piss before climbing into a pair of sweat pants, a t-shirt, socks and running shoes and went on a morning jog. Halfway through, I realized I wasn't jogging. I was flat out running. All because a young woman had moved into my house. Was this the beginning of my mid-life crisis? Next, I'll be buying a Porsche. 718 Spyder. Black.

It didn't take long for Lana to settle into a Los Angeles lifestyle and was no longer star struck by big city lights, but she was far from a typical Angelino. Lana had no desire for plastic surgery and showed no interest in designer label clothes. She didn't have a driver's license and showed no interest in getting one. She cheerfully used ride-share to get to and from work. One day, she asked if I could pick her up from work. She wanted me to see her work. So, that evening, I drove down to the popular fusion seafood sushi restaurant to watch my sister swim.

Mizuko is a trendy restaurant though the A-list crowd had abandoned it months ago. I stepped inside the cool dim restaurant reminiscent of a 1930's Shanghai ballroom with gold leaf wallpaper, dark wooden columns and furniture, red leather booths, and stylized gold fish figurines. A bar spanned the far wall and another dining area was on a mezzanine level. To the right was the restaurant's jewel; a fifty foot long, twenty five foot high aquarium situated in a sunken cocktail lounge with chairs and little tables. I waited behind the supper crowd waiting to be seated before speaking to the hostess. I told her I was here to pick up my mermaid sister and she told me I can wait at the bar. Walking towards the bar, I deviated from the path and ambled down a few steps into the aquarium lounge where a few people sat at tables, talking and enjoying cocktails. I approached the tank where a family of three, a man, his wife, and a little boy stood inches away from the tank's glass.

The tank was an unbelievable watery seascape. Colorful tropical fish lazily swam in man-made salt water currents. Constant streams of bubbles floated from oxygen lines hidden behind seaweed, boulders, and a fake coral reef. A huge pearl gleamed in giant clamshell while a real crab scuttled about the sandy bottom. I was entranced by the scene. Then, like a fantasy, Lana appeared, swimming from behind a mound of boulders. She looked like a real mermaid. Her skin tone, paled by turquoise water and light, blended with her pale blue mermaid tail with purple tips that spread like a goldfish tail. Two scalloped sea shells covered her breasts, held in place by a flesh colored bandeau. Her now silvery blonde hair fanned behind her as she swam towards the family. Her lips seemed poutier than usual from her muddy pink lipstick. I expected to see her cheeks puffed out from holding in air, but her face was very relaxed as though she truly lived underwater. The little boy raised his hand to the glass and Lana swam towards him. She smiled, pressing her palm to the glass. The father seemed hypnotized by the sight of her suspended in tranquil waters, her pale blonde hair billowing behind her. The wife wasn't as enthralled. She scowled her disapproval of her husband's fascination with the nubile mermaid. Lana didn't care. She blew a bubbly kiss towards the man before swimming away to disappear behind a pile of distant boulders. I stepped up to the tank and waited for her to emerge. A short time later, she swam from behind the rocks and performed a slow backwards summersault, her head touching her tail, until she was upright once more. She swam upwards and I leaned into the glass to see her break the surface before coming right back down. Then she saw me and smiled before approaching with undulating kicks of her tail until she was a few inches from my face. I gave her a small wave. She waved back and then she pointed upwards. I frowned with confusion. She pointed to the bar then pointed up again.

I pointed to the bar and mouthed, "Go to the bar and ask to go up?"

She nodded before swimming away to disappear behind a reef. I walked up the steps to the bar where the bartender was quick to place a napkin on the counter. "What can I get started for you?"

"Yeah, the mermaid, Lana, she's my sister and she told me to ask you if I can go up?" I said with a shrug. "I'm here to pick her up. Her shift is almost over."

He looked at the tank and I turned to see Lana give the bartender a wave and pointed up. The bartender pointed to a potted plant a few feet from the edge of the aquarium's glass. "There's a door by the plant. Just go on in and take the stairs up. It takes you to the tank."

I thanked him before making my way down to door with no knob. The door popped open with a press of my palm. I entered an eerily dim and humid cinder block stairwell filled with the hum of an electric generator before closing the door behind me. My footsteps stomped up the grated metal stairs to the landing where I opened the only door to the tank's maintenance room above the wide open tank. It resembled an indoor pool with artificial grass covering most of the concrete floor. The fluorescent lighting above was harsh and white and angled to give the illusion of streaming sunlight. Cleaning supplies, pool skimmers, buckets of fish food and scuba gear were all neatly stacked against the walls. Moisture dripped from exposed pipes running about the large cinder block room. I heard footsteps coming up behind me so I stepped aside and held open the door. A young woman with auburn hair, brown eyes, and a pretty heart shaped face said, 'excuse me' as she trudged by me carrying an oversized duffle bag. She walked the length of the tank to an open door which looked like the entrance to a locker room and closed the door behind her. I ventured in and walked to the edge of the pool to look down into the water. I stepped back as Lana shot up from the depths to break the water's surface. She wiped her hair from her face and blinked a couple of times before looking up at me with a smile.

She sweetly drawled, "Hey, Dane."

"Hey. So, this is where you work?"

"This is it."

The locker room opened and the red haired girl stepped out in a starfish bra, bikini bottom and a metallic purple mermaid tale with its mono fin draped over her arm. She sat at the far end of the tank's edge. Hearing the locker room door slam behind her, Lana turned and upon seeing her co-worker she called out, "Hey, Riley."

"Hey, Lana," she replied before stepping into mermaid tail. "Who's your friend?"

"This is my brother, Dane."

I gave her a little wave. She gave me a coy smile before shimmying into her mermaid tail, hopping up and down as she tugged up the latex up to her navel where it clung to waist.

To my chagrin Lana's tail emerged from the water to flick water my way. It splattered onto my shirt.

"Hey," I griped, grimacing at the dark water spots dotting my shirt.

She giggled at my distress. "Go hang out at the bar. My shift is almost over. Then I need to shower and change. I'll be ready in a little bit."

She huffed some air before taking one deep breath and dove back under the water. Riley dove in join her. It was like watching a couple of real mermaids retreat to their watery home.

I returned to the bar and ordered a beer. I'd learned that a 'little bit' meant at least a half an hour in Lana speak. I drank my beer and watched Riley and Lana face off while circling each other in a dreamy mermaid stand-off before sweetly embracing each other in corkscrew spin before parting and swimming off out of sight. After that, it was just Riley darting back and forth in the tranquil blue water with her red hair flaming behind her. Twenty minutes later, Lana texted me that she was ready to go and was waiting me at the restaurant's back door. I retrieved the car from the parking lot and drove down the alley to see her leaning against the wall with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder and her eyes squarely on her phone as she swiped away.

I rolled up on her, rolled down the window and said, "Come on, little bit." From then on, I affectionately called her Littlebit.

We stopped by the supermarket before heading home and as I pulled into the driveway, I could see my neighbor, a petite brunette dressed in black leggings and a hot pink sports bra, jogging our way. She wasn't just any jogger or regular neighbor. My neighbor, Mia, is former teen star, Mia Portrero. She once starred on a popular family show but she broke free her sugary image when she made an erotically charged independent movie before drifting into obscurity. And now at the age of thirty five, she was having a hard time securing acting gigs though she didn't have to work. Her parents managed her money well and put it into a trust fund on which she comfortably lived. Though I've spoken to Mia a few times, I didn't have the nerve to tell the pretty woman with the big brown eyes that I had crushed on her back in the day. Mia stopped at the edge of my drive as Lana as I gathered the bags of groceries. She greeted me with a cheerful "Hi, Dane" before turning her curious gaze towards Lana who she acknowledged with a cordial hello. Lana replied with a with a pleasant hi. Mia eyes shifted between me and Lana, curious about my dinner date. I could torment her no longer.