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TITLE Copyright © 2022 by Tobie van der Westhuizen.

All rights reserved. Printed in South Africa. No part of this book may
be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in
critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses,

organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

ISBN: 123456789

First Edition: July 2022

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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 Broken

the humans, she was suddenly and violently swept away by a power
of the sea that she had never encountered and that she was not ready
Chapter 1 for. She struggled with all her might but could not get out of the
current. Within seconds she became one with the great and mighty
waves, tossed to and fro like a bobbing cork. The last thing she
remembered was being lifted by a gigantic breaker and seeing the

Broken dark jagged rocks waiting below - like the hungry fangs of the great
sharks…

O
ne day the most beautiful of all the mermaids saw a man The mermaid first became aware of the blackness, and then of the
walking alone on a pure white beach. The manner of his pain. She had never felt so broken in her life. The only comfort
walking, and the way in which his shoulders were hanging, seemed to come from her hair. The rest of her body was screaming,
made the mermaid think that he was very sad. screaming, screaming. But not her hair. Her hair felt strangely alive
She became curious and swam closer. - as though the great God of the sea and land was breathing on every
Before I tell you the rest of the story, let me tell you something lock and curl.
about mermaids: Mermaids never go close to the beaches. It is a rule It was a feeling that she had never felt before. It was a feeling that
amongst them that they should stay away from any place where she wanted to hold on to for the rest of her life. She wanted to capture
humans can see them. The reason for this is not that they have a it, to make it hers, to never ever let it go. And so, with the last of her
particular desire to remain undetected, but that they know that the strength, she lifted her right hand and reached for her hair.
humans are the greatest enemies of the sea creatures. As she touched it she touched the life that she was feeling. It was
However, this day the beautiful mermaid broke this rule and there, and it seemed to make her broken hand come alive. The glow
ventured outside the place of safety that she knew so well. She spread from her hand through her arm and into her whole body. It
thought that she would do it with the greatest care to ensure that she was no longer just her hair. It was her entire being that came alive.
would not be noticed. What she did not know was that there were It gave her the strength to open her eyes, and as she did so she stared
strong and dangerous currents close to the beach where the man was into the face of the man who had been walking on the beach.
walking. Her first thought was a strange one. She felt no fear or
As she crossed the boundary between her world and the world of bewilderment. Rather, she found herself wondering why the sadness
that had hung over him had disappeared. There were tears in his eyes,
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 Broken Broken

but they were tears of wonder and compassion, not of crying. He that he somehow knew what she was thinking - that he was reading
had found her, she realised. And he had been sitting with her, her mind.
stroking her hair, hoping that she would wake up. Perhaps that is part of the magic, she thought. It was a thought
What was it that she felt? What was this emotion? Was this the that calmed her. She tightened her grip on his hand and closed her
love that she had heard of? If it was, then it was mightier than what eyes, and the darkness returned.
she could ever have imagined.
She knew that some of her own had been lost in the name of this
love. Some were captured by seamen and never seen again. Others,
like her, had wandered from their own dwelling place and never
returned. It was always said that love did it. That love was a form of
human magic. That love, like some evil charm, would captivate and
enthrall in the beginning, but destroy in the end. That love would
deceive you into thinking that you had crossed over to the other side,
but that it would ultimately make you a prisoner in a world that you
were never created for.
She knew all of this, but in that moment she did not care. She was
under love’s spell. She had drunk the poison and she wanted more.
She wanted to feel not only the stranger’s hand in her hair. She
wanted him to touch her face, her hands, her arms. She wanted him
to embrace her and hold her. And she wanted to do the same in return.
The roaring seas behind her now seemed distant and cold. She
did not want to go back there. She wanted the stranger to pick her
up and take her to his home. She wanted to become one with him,
knowing full-well what that meant. She would have to become like
him, so that she could receive his love and give him hers.
She wanted to tell him this, but did not know how. Yet she sensed

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 Whole

of loving a new life is formed.

That is why I am dead to my old life and alive to the new, she
Chapter 2 thought.
From that point on her recovery was fast. She recovered as a
human, of course. Since the night that she woke up she knew that
would happen. She had been warned that love could make you lose

Whole your body, but she was never told that you would be given a superior
body in the process.

T
he stranger took her to his house. She was unaware that he And so, her dream of loving the stranger fully was no longer just
did so. She was more hurt than she had realised, and spent a dream. It became a very real possibility. He knew what had
many days drifting in and out of consciousness. happened to her, but he never talked about it. Not because he felt
The stranger was always there. Sometimes she was aware of him, awkward, but because he loved and respected her.
other times not. In those days she never had the same vivid He knew where she had come from, and he felt no need to ever
experience of him that she had had on the jagged rocks. But refer to that again. She was the most glorious creature he had ever
somehow she knew that that did not matter. come across and he wanted her as much as she wanted him. When
It was meant to be and it would be again. she was ready to become his wife, he asked her to marry him. She
She was taught that love is a destroyer and a killer. One dark night happily obliged, and so they were married on a small island just off
she woke up with those words in her mind. It was the first moment the coast where she had seen him the first time.
of complete clarity since her fateful accident. In that moment she
realised that the words were true. Love does destroy and kill, she
thought, but that is only half of the story. It also creates. The death
is necessary for the new life. How can you love one thing above all
else unless you have stopped loving that which used to be in its place?
And so, she realised that the fear of love only applies to those
who are left behind. They are the ones who experience the death and
separation. The one who loves does not experience it, for in the act

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 Storm Storm

The sea, despite its volatility, allows itself to be largely

predictable for its inhabitants.
Chapter 3 It was a dark and stormy night when it first happened. The man
was awoken by a loud clap of thunder and instinctively reached out
for the hand of his new bride. His wooden house was built against a

Storm hill overlooking the beach where he had picked up her broken body,
and so it was particularly exposed to the sounds of the sea and the

I
wish I could tell you that they lived happily ever after, but then sky.
I would not be telling you the whole story. He wished to comfort her, but when he reached to her side of the
Oh, they were happy. Don’t get me wrong. They were bed she was not there.
happier than anyone I have ever met or heard of. It is just that they The house was not big, and it did not take him long to establish
were not happy all the time. that she had left. He grabbed his raincoat and ran out of the house
You see, there is something about the sea that is very different to into the drizzle that he knew would soon become a downpour. He
the rest of the world. The sea, unlike the earth, is not stable. It has shouted for her, sliding down the muddy path leading down to the
tides and storms. Much of the sea is dark, unknown, and extremely beach, falling over rocks and bushes.
dangerous. She was nowhere to be found. The howling winds grew stronger,
What the people of the land do not know is that the sea creatures the sea began to roar, and the raindrops became a blizzard. All night
can only survive by adapting themselves to the moods of their world. the man searched for his beloved but found nothing.
It is as though they become one with the spirit of the sea. Let me It was only when the morning broke that he noticed her limp body
give you an example: The creatures of the deepest darkness let go on the rocks. He ran to her, shouting, screaming, praying. She
off their sight, for it serves no purpose there. And they change the looked like she did when he found her the first time. Broken, bruised,
shape of their bodies to adjust to the enormous pressure of the waters damaged.
down there. There was one difference, though. She was a woman, not a
In the same way, the rest of the creatures of the ocean constantly washed-up sea-creature. She was not supposed to be here. It was
adapt themselves to its changing moods. They do this by reading the wrong, wrong, wrong.
signs, and signs there are many. He took her home and cared for her, exactly as he did the first
time. Like the first time, she recovered. She did not tell him what
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 Storm Storm

had happened and he respected her enough not to force her.

And so, he waited…
And so, peace and happiness returned to the little house on the
The next storm was as fierce as he expected. This time the man
hill. Nights were spent in front of the fireplace. They drank wine,
did not sleep. He sat awake all night and was ready when his wife
read poetry, and loved one another.
got up. She did not respond when he spoke to her. When he tried to
Truly, they were as happy as any couple could be.
restrain her with force a struggle ensued that carried on all the way
Until the next storm.
down the mountain. She somehow seemed stronger and more
When the man woke up he instinctively knew she would be gone,
determined than he had ever seen her, and he quickly realised that
and so she was. This time he knew where to go. He rushed down to
he did not have the power to stop her.
the rocks and was just in time to see her walking into the roaring
The waves took them again, and again they were spewed out on
waves. He shouted and screamed, but she did not hear him.
the rocks. This time the man managed to retain his consciousness
Or perhaps she preferred not to hear him.
throughout the whole episode, and so neither him nor his wife got
She simply kept on walking, like someone in a trance. He ran as
as badly hurt as the previous time.
fast as was humanly possible but could not make it to her in time.
The days after the episode were quite days, and it took a while
As his feet touched the water, he saw her disappear under the waves
before the incident was forgotten and the fire was lit again.
in front of him. Seconds later he was there, grasping and feeling
Happiness returned soon afterwards, and when it did it was in such
under the water, hoping to be the rescuer once again.
a way that the man felt it had all been a bad dream and that it would
This time, however, he also became a victim of the ocean’s rage.
never happen again.
The next morning there was not one limp body on the rocks, but two.
But it did. Again, and again, and again. Sometimes he would
Both had gotten terribly hurt.
carry her to the house, wet and cold. Other times their broken bodies
This time the recovery took longer, for the man was too weak to
were found on the rocks by passers-by.
give his wife the same attention that he had given her before. But
over time, they both recovered, and happiness returned to the little
house.
There was something different, though. The man, who had never
been afraid of storms, now dreaded the thought of another storm. He
wanted to pray that it would never rain again. That the wind would
never blow again. But he knew that such a prayer would be foolish.
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 Fisherman

thought that the question was perhaps a sign that he should do so.
Chapter 4 And so, he spent the next hour relating the story of his bride’s
strange behaviour.
Of course, he did not say where she had come from, He thought
that such information would be both irrelevant and embarrassing.

Fisherman He did not need to, for the fisherman was a wise man who knew
the sea. “You married a mermaid”, he said, “and you know it. What

T
he man was a writer, and he had little contact with the you do not know is that the mermaids are the sea’s most sensitive
outside world. He preferred the safe seclusion of his creatures. They cannot tolerate anything that resembles chaos, such
existence and had never allowed anyone in his house except as loud noises, abrupt changes, or any form of uncertainty. And so,
his beautiful bride. they are the master readers of the sea’s signs. They are the first to
Every six months he would travel to the city to take a manuscript recognise a threat, the first to know when and where a wind will
to his publisher. This was the only time that he had any semblance blow, the first to know where a storm is developing. Whenever they
of a social life. He would stay there for a few days to discuss the sense this, they gather themselves together and dive to one of their
publication and, if necessary, edit the manuscript. At night he would deep and dark hiding places. There are many of these places in the
go for walks and find a restaurant or pub where he would eat, have ocean and no one except the mermaids knows where they are or how
a glass of wine, and perhaps talk to a stranger or two. to get to them. This instinct is so deeply ingrained in them that even
It was on such a night that the man met the fisherman. He was in those who cross over to our side retain it. When they see the signs,
seventies and had piercing blue eyes, a leathery skin and grey beard, it takes over and they want to take the dive. Sadly, they no longer
with the ocean written all over him. have the ability to do so.”
They started talking at the bar, enjoyed one another’s company, The man was stunned.
and decided to have a meal and share a bottle of wine. Halfway “Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
through their conversation the old skipper said: “I see the sea in your The fisherman’s eyes became sad. He sat quietly, like someone
eyes, but it is covered in pain. Is there something you want to tell who had lost a child a very long time ago and stumbled unexpectedly
me?” onto an old toy the two of them used to play with.
The man had no inclination to talk about his personal life, but he And then he spoke. Gently, yet with authority: “You find them
all over the world. The houses with the graves. They are always
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 Fisherman Fisherman

close to the sea and they stand alone, a testimony to the way in which they came from. Nobody knows where they go, whether they return
their former owners chose to live their lives. That is, until love to their former state, or are simply swallowed by the darkness.”
opened the doors of their abodes.” The words pierced the writer like the stab of a knife. “This is
He was quite again, and the writer thought that he saw the deeply disturbing,” he said. “Surely this cannot be!”
glimmer of a tear in the eyes of the fisherman. The old skipper looked intently at him. “You did not know, and
After a brief pause, the old man continued: “The very love that you are excused. But now you know, and you are not excused. Use
opened these doors, and the doors of their hearts, is the love that led your knowledge wisely.”
to their deaths. You see, they all did what you did. They all thought The wine was finished, and so was the conversation. It was
that they could conquer the spirit of the sea that was in their beloved. obvious to both men. They got up, embraced, and without a word
But over the months and the years the sea took its toll. And so, one went their own separate ways.
by one they were led to their final journey from which they never
returned.”
The pain had become unmistakable in the fisherman’s eyes. “I
saw it, one morning - a battered woman making her way up to a
cottage, with the dead body of her husband on the rocks. Somehow,
the mermaids always survive, as though the sea punishes but spares
them. But the husbands do not. Their retribution is final. They must
pay the price for taking what never belonged to them. And so, these
houses are eternal testimonies to both the power and destruction of
love.”
He paused again. “The mermaids, of course, never stay on in the
empty houses. They bury their beloved and then they, too, make a
final journey. But they don’t wash up on the rocks. They simply
walk back into the sea and are never seen or heard of again. It is as
though they are given the strength that had evaded them on all those
stormy nights. And so, they conquer the waves and return to where

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 Survival

As he made his way up the mountain he kissed her hair, and with
Chapter 5 the taste of the sea in his mouth he whispered to her: “It’s okay, my
love. I can take care of you. I am fine.” And so, he was reminded of
the very first time that he had carried her up the winding path that
led to his house.

Survival It did not take long to put her to bed, to bind up her wounds and
to administer medicine. The man could concentrate all his efforts on

T
he writer returned home a few days later. This time, however, her, for he was not hurt. He never once thought about himself as he
he did so without the sense of dread that had become his nursed her back to health. This was a strange but wonderful
constant companion on the journeys back from the city. experience, and it was made more wonderful by the fact that she
He did not fear the next storm. Rather, he could hardly wait for recovered remarkably fast.
its arrival, for he knew what to do. The storms still came, with all their power and ferocity, and the
It was a mere week later when the winds came and the thunder man could not help but marvel at their indifference to the new
erupted. He got up immediately, as was his habit, but this time he pattern that was now developing in the little house.
did not leave the house with his bride. “They are so unconcerned”, he thought, “and that is why we
Once she had departed, he closed the door behind her, said a quite should never try and influence them. That is why we should find
prayer and poured himself a glass of wine. And then he waited. It some other way to outsmart them.”
was not easy, but he kept repeating the words of the old skipper in Outsmart them he did. One early morning, after a particularly
his mind: “Somehow the mermaids always survive… stormy night, as the writer carried his bride back to the house,
somehow…somehow…” kissing her hair and whispering words of love in her ears, she
The storm lasted until the early hours of the morning. When the responded. It was a faint response, but the words were
downpour became a drizzle, and the winds a breeze, the writer put unmistakeable: “Thank you,” she said. This had never happened
on his raincoat and rushed out. He found it strangely exhilarating to before, and the man’s eyes were filled with tears of joy at the sound
run down the mountain without a struggle. Within moments he made of those words.
it to the rocks, picked up the limp body of his bride and carried her The next time it happened again, and the words were clearer than
home, effortlessly. before.
And so, a few months and many storms later, it happened one
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 Survival

morning that she was conscious as he picked her up on those jagged

rocks. They talked all the way up the winding path, and for the first Chapter 6
time the writer suspected that she knew what had happened to her.
Yet, as always, the incident was never mentioned again.

Life

M
y story has a happy ending. To tell the truth, it is happier
than any one of the many stories I have written.
I am not writing from the grave, as is obvious. I am
very much alive. When I look out my window, I do not see a
tombstone, but a small boy walking with his mother on a pure white
beach. There are rocks to the one side of the beach, but we never go
there. I haven’t been there in years. The last time I went down there
I did not find what I was looking for, so I never returned.
She was not there. It is as simple as that. No one was there.
I remember that morning as though it was yesterday. The storm
was the worst we had had in years. The waiting that night was very
painful, for it was a long wait. When I finally ran down the mountain
I did so frantically, for I felt that something was different. For the
first time in months I had to remind myself of the fisherman’s words:
“Somehow…”
The refrain repeated itself in my head until I made it to the rocks.
But she was not there. The jagged rocks looked empty, as though
their victim had been snatched from them. I searched, prayed, and
yelled, but there was no one.

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 Life

“Perhaps the skipper was wrong”, I thought. “Perhaps no

mermaid bride has ever lived as long as this one, taken so much
punishment, been exposed to the elements so much. Perhaps…”
Yet there was a miraculous calmness in the ocean breeze that I
could not explain. And so, I walked back up the winding path, not
knowing what to think. That’s when I saw her. She was sitting under
a tree, as beautiful and peaceful as I had ever seen her. Her gaze was
directed at the ocean. She knew that I had run past her on the way
down, but she did not stop me. I had to see for myself, I realised.
“Come here”, she said, and held out her hand. “Come sit close to
me.”
I did so, not sure what to expect.
“I woke up”, she continued. “I woke up on the way down, before
I got to the water. And so, I could stop myself.”
She turned and looked at me. “This time we are both fine. Isn’t
that wonderful?”
Wonderful it was. More wonderful than I ever thought it would
be. We walked up that path, hand in hand, and we knew that we
would never have to do so again after a storm.
When the next storm came, the door of the house on the hill
remained closed. Inside was a fire, an open bottle of wine, and two
people lying in one another’s arms under a warm blanket .
Perhaps you are wondering, and the answer is “yes”. The boy on
the beach – he was born nine months later.

The End
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