03-23-2023, 03:38 PM
“I I had been sitting at the bar for a short time before I noticed something strange on the wall not too far away. I thought I may be I was seeing things until the bartender, a lovely woman named Doris, came over and smirked at me.
‘You’re wonderin’ about the bra,’ she said.
‘Yeah, so it is a bra?’ I asked.
‘Sure is,’ she answered and looked at the slightly worn garment which had been mounted on a wooden plaque, not unlike a taxidermied animal. ‘And an unusual one at that. Made of some sort of scaly fabric,’ she said.
‘Why is it on the wall?’ I asked
‘You’re not from around here, are ya son?’ she asked as she planted an elbow on the bar and leaned toward me.
I shook my head, so she continued. ‘Years ago, when a terrible hurricane came through, a man and local legend named Mikeydoes stood on the shore out there and fished. Everyone thought he was crazy, even before he braved the weather. He’d come around claimin’ that the women of the sea always come to the beach during a hurricane. He was so bent on catchin’ one. That’s all he talked about near the end.’
I smiled at Doris and expected her to begin laughing. She, too, was smiling, but not because she was joking. I suspect it was because she knew just how crazy the tale sounded.
‘He was trying to catch a mermaid?’ I asked.
‘That’s right. And he nearly did, right out there,’ she said and pointed out a nearby window.
As we looked out at the beach she continued. ‘Some of us were determined not to leave for the storm, so we stood inside with all but that one window boarded. We watched him casting over and over, somehow managing to fight through the wind and rain. Suddenly his fishing pole curved and he went to battle with something big and strong. It seemed as if hours had passed while we watched. He’d reel it in, then it would swim back out. Over and over. Finally, when we were desperately trying to get him to come inside, the thing he’d hooked got away, the fishing pole suddenly went straight, and his lure flew back at him. Attached to it was that bra. The bra of a mermaid.’
‘What happened after that?’ I asked.
‘He picked up the bra and ran over here. We expected him to come inside so we could finish securing the place. But no,’ she said while shaking her head. Her demeanor suddenly changed from a sort of glowing happiness to obvious sadness. ‘He gave us the bra, stripped down so he was clothesless, and then sprinted into the sea while yelling, ‘She’s waiting for me!”
All we saw was his pale white backside go diving into the surf and then he was gone. No one has seen him since.”
‘You’re wonderin’ about the bra,’ she said.
‘Yeah, so it is a bra?’ I asked.
‘Sure is,’ she answered and looked at the slightly worn garment which had been mounted on a wooden plaque, not unlike a taxidermied animal. ‘And an unusual one at that. Made of some sort of scaly fabric,’ she said.
‘Why is it on the wall?’ I asked
‘You’re not from around here, are ya son?’ she asked as she planted an elbow on the bar and leaned toward me.
I shook my head, so she continued. ‘Years ago, when a terrible hurricane came through, a man and local legend named Mikeydoes stood on the shore out there and fished. Everyone thought he was crazy, even before he braved the weather. He’d come around claimin’ that the women of the sea always come to the beach during a hurricane. He was so bent on catchin’ one. That’s all he talked about near the end.’
I smiled at Doris and expected her to begin laughing. She, too, was smiling, but not because she was joking. I suspect it was because she knew just how crazy the tale sounded.
‘He was trying to catch a mermaid?’ I asked.
‘That’s right. And he nearly did, right out there,’ she said and pointed out a nearby window.
As we looked out at the beach she continued. ‘Some of us were determined not to leave for the storm, so we stood inside with all but that one window boarded. We watched him casting over and over, somehow managing to fight through the wind and rain. Suddenly his fishing pole curved and he went to battle with something big and strong. It seemed as if hours had passed while we watched. He’d reel it in, then it would swim back out. Over and over. Finally, when we were desperately trying to get him to come inside, the thing he’d hooked got away, the fishing pole suddenly went straight, and his lure flew back at him. Attached to it was that bra. The bra of a mermaid.’
‘What happened after that?’ I asked.
‘He picked up the bra and ran over here. We expected him to come inside so we could finish securing the place. But no,’ she said while shaking her head. Her demeanor suddenly changed from a sort of glowing happiness to obvious sadness. ‘He gave us the bra, stripped down so he was clothesless, and then sprinted into the sea while yelling, ‘She’s waiting for me!”
All we saw was his pale white backside go diving into the surf and then he was gone. No one has seen him since.”