5: A Revelation About Mermaid

Indeed, there was always a lesson to learn in life and Amber had just learned one that she needed to apply. Hence, she had to say something to stop her mother from suspecting she was going through any kind of hell at Isis’s home.

“You worry too much mother, I’m fine. Remember, they even changed my wardrobe.”

Miriam seemed convinced given the smile she gave Amber.  Amber was relieved that her mother did not have to worry about how she was being treated at Isis’s house even as right there she remembered an ugly incident that always broke her heart whenever it came to her mind.

She could still see the smoke that rose from her burning clothes on the ground around which stood a sad looking her, a laughing Rhea, and a disdainful Isis. They were all staring down at her burning clothes on the ground behind Isis’s house. She could still recall the dialogue that followed.

“So you miss these rags?” Isis had scoffed.

“I liked the dress with many colors.” Amber had said tearfully. “My mother made it for me. She spent days on it.”

“She spent days on it.” Rhea immediately mimicked her, increasing her hurt.

“You will not wear rags in my home.” Isis roared. “They stink. My god, I fear it will take ages to get the stink of poverty off you.”

Amber had started to cry and Isis had simply ignored her and stormed back inside the house while Rhea with a snort had followed behind her, both of them abandoning her in the blue state they were responsible for putting her in. Amber could still recall the salty taste of her tears of humiliation that had continued to roll down her face as she continued to stare at her burning clothes.

Amber breathed deeply, re-adapting her focus to the present so that sadness would not show up in her countenance and worry her mother.

“Don’t worry mother, they are nice.” She told Miriam.

“Okay, if you say so.”

They returned to their meal.

 “Mother, do you know anything about Isis?” Amber asked out of the blue. She did not have a particular reason for asking but she just wanted to know something about the woman.

“Not really,” Miriam replied. “Apart from living off her late husband’s wealth, it is whispered among some villagers that she hates the poor. They say she loves being the wealthiest person in the village after the king. Rumor has it that she kills people’s source of income. I don’t know how true this is because we have not had a personal encounter.”

One thing bothered Amber about the information her mother had given her.

“Well, if she hates the poor, I'm also poor.” She said.

“You are there to work Amber, not beg.” Miriam pointed out.

Amber was quiet, remembering for a second that Isis seemed to hate her. She now knew why or at least, she now had an idea why that was so. It was because she was poor. But her mother had a point she reasoned even though it didn’t console her so much. 

Amber knew her countenance was leaning towards sad again as she became aware of Miriam studying her closely.

“My star, is Isis treating you badly?” Miriam asked looking alarmed, “Because if she is…”

Amber firmly shook her head, interrupting her mother.

“Don’t lie to me. You can come back if she is. We will find a way to manage.”

Amber placed a reassuring hand on her mother’s shoulder again and forced another convincing smile.

“Mother,” she said. “Like I always say, you worry too much. It’s great over there and like you said, am not there to beg but to work.”

“Okay.”

Amber wanted to change the subject and immediately remembered the mermaid incident. She decided to mention it. It was perfect timing and it was a subject guaranteed to provide a distraction, she believed.

“Mother, I saw a mermaid in the river at Isis’s place.” She said and Miriam gasped in surprise. Amber mentally patted herself on the back for finding the perfect distraction.

“Really?” Miriam asked. and Amber nodded.

“Folktales tell that Upland’s deity was a mermaid who abandoned the people for the constant wickedness many engaged in.”

“That’s interesting,” Amber remarked.

“True. It’s been a long time since anyone mentioned it though. No one would believe.”

“I see. No wonder Isis and her daughter didn’t believe me either.” Amber stated, remembering the unpleasant drama that had played out when she had told them. She quickly blocked out a threatening replay of the mocking laughter that had erupted from them the evening she had been forced to tell Isis.

“I never believed others too until your father also claimed the same but I believed him then just like I believe you now.”

Amber was consoled by the knowledge that her father saw a mermaid too and smiled as Miriam ruffled her hair adoringly. Amber basked in her mother’s love, wishing that she did not have to return to Isis’s place the next day. But she knew that she had to go back because the work paid her.

Sometimes, one had to go through pain to achieve success, she reasoned and knew again that she had just learned another life lesson. (“Life is not a bed of roses,” her mother would say) and she understood that statement better now because in life there was both pain and joy.

Amber mentally compared life’s pain to the thorns of roses and life’s joy to the beauty of rose petals. Yes, roses were so beautiful but they came with thorns. Indeed, life was not a bed of roses because life was a combination of pain and joy, of roses and thorns.