“Please help me,” she whispered.
Amara bent down, wrapped her arms around the mermaid’s waist, and tried to lift her. The mermaid was heavy, and Amara was not strong enough, but she tried her best. She placed the mermaid’s arm over her shoulder, and the mermaid leaned heavily on Amara. Her swollen belly made it hard for her to move easily.
Amara took one step, then another, her legs shaking under the weight. They moved slowly, step by step, trying to avoid the dry leaves that made noise beneath their feet.
The mermaid winced in pain, breathing heavily and holding her stomach.
“Ah… ah…” she groaned softly.
Amara looked at her with pity. She did not know how long it would take to reach her hut, but she could not leave the mermaid behind.
Every few minutes, Amara had to stop and rest. She would bend down, allowing the mermaid to sit on the ground for a moment while she wiped the sweat from her face.
Her clay pot of water was still behind them, but she could not carry it now. She left it there and focused only on getting the mermaid to safety.
The morning sun was beginning to rise, and the birds were singing louder now. Amara’s wrapper was soaked with sweat and her back was aching, but she kept moving. The mermaid was crying softly, her face pale and her hands holding her big belly.
“Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to die,” she kept whispering.
“I will not leave you,” Amara said, even though her body was exhausted and her legs were shaking.
They passed through small, narrow bush paths, avoiding places where people might see them. Amara was afraid that if the villagers saw the mermaid, they might call the hunters or bring trouble upon her.
They stopped to rest again under a mango tree, and Amara checked the mermaid’s face.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly.
The mermaid nodded weakly, though tears rolled down her cheeks.
After some time, Amara gathered her strength and lifted the mermaid again. They continued moving, resting, and moving until finally they reached Amara’s small mud hut at the edge of the village.
Amara pushed the wooden door open carefully and looked inside. Her two children were still fast asleep on the mat. She was thankful they were still sleeping, so they would not see the mermaid yet.
Amara helped the mermaid inside and laid her gently on the floor, which was covered with a small old mat. The mermaid groaned in pain, her hands on her belly, her tail lying weakly across the mat.
Amara looked at her with concern. She saw that the mermaid’s body was swollen in some places, and there were red marks where the rope had bound her.
“I will bring hot water,” Amara said softly.
She quickly went outside, took some water, and placed it on the small fire in her kitchen. When the water became warm, she poured some into a small bowl and brought it inside. She dipped a clean cloth into the hot water, squeezed it, and gently placed it on the mermaid’s swollen arms and shoulders.
The mermaid winced in pain, but after a while she let out a soft sigh of relief.
Amara continued to care for her with the warm cloth, wiping away the dirt and sweat and pressing gently on her back.
“Thank you. Thank you,” the mermaid kept whispering, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Amara felt pity in her heart, but she also felt afraid. She did not know what would happen next, and she did not know why the mermaid had come onto land, pregnant, only to be caught by hunters.
The room was quiet except for the mermaid’s soft groans and the gentle crackling of the fire outside.
Amara looked at the mermaid’s large belly and wondered, What kind of baby is inside her? Will it be a fish or a human?
She did not know. But she knew she could not let the mermaid die.
The mermaid opened her eyes weakly and looked at Amara.
“My name is Nene,” she said softly.
Amara was surprised. “Nene? That is a beautiful name. My name is Amara.”
Nene smiled weakly, though her eyes were still filled with tears.
“Thank you, Amara. I will never forget this,” she whispered.
Amara nodded and held Nene’s hand gently.
