When they
found her in The Galapagos Islands
( on San
Cristobal
sitting in the
shallow tide. Her torso
slid into a
tail of silver scales. The rest of her
perfectly human.
Sun-bleached hair surpassing the length
of her six foot frame –was braided
and looped
over a stone pillar.
During capture,
Someone had leashed
and
tranquilized her, preparing
the specimen
for shipment.
When the
scientists approached
and tapped her
pale shoulder,
there was a
hollow chime, a lightness inside
as that in
hollow teak or bisque. They were baffled.
An old man hunched in an overcoat
with his triangular
beard and cravat askew,
trudged toward
them. He spoke
wearily and whispered
–
She is not a mermaid but an ancient
species of woman, half mammal, half
serpent;
preserved and prevailing in fresh water
on the other side.
.
When hunters dragged her from the cascade
and drenched her veins with dope,
they forced out her breath, her will. I
felt it rise
like an updraft into the clear sky.
Storm doves glided on its heat. Then it
spilled
over the mountain in massive clouds
like ashen lava. Her venom.
The man turned
and was about to leave
when one of
the young biologists
asked his name.
He straightened his back, echoing
in the most
august voice – Charles, Charles.
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