It was a peaceful day at the beach. The silent lagoon he and Thomas were visiting was calm and without tourists.
Mike found that for the first time in a while, his thoughts were not focused on Layla. Instead, he was there to relax. He looked down at his notebook, thoughts already whirling in his head as he continued to think about the current predicament.
A song…a song that would impress. That they hadn't played yet.
"Hey Uncle Mike, I'm goin' in the water, okay?" he heard Thomas yell. Not paying full attention, Mike nodded.
"Fine," he replied absently. "Don't go too far."
He turned back to the notebook, thinking. Thomas was a nice kid. Both of them had needed to get away from the stress of life. And the lagoon was the perfect spot.
He continued to think. I'm A Believer? No, they'd done that. He scanned the list of playable songs.
At the bottom of the list was a song that they hadn't played yet. They'd just recently added it to their sets, and it wasn't perfected yet. Last Train to Clarksville. Would it work?
He'd hardly had time to consider the choice when he heard a shout from the water. Someone was calling his name. He peered out over the water and squinted. The voice was far off.
Dread filled his veins. Trouble.
Far in the distance, he saw a figure. Waving its arms and shouting. Thomas.
"Thomas," he shouted. Fear ran down his spine. How had he not seen this coming? Thomas couldn't swim very well; he was only a boy. Why hadn't he paid more attention?
He forced himself to stop thinking and worrying and do something. Without a second thought, he ran into the water. He winced at the cold, but continued on. Thomas' life was at stake.
He must have been swimming for a good half hour and he didn't seem to be making much progress.
'Darn it,' he thought to himself. 'Where's a boat when you need one?'
"Will I work?" he heard a voice say behind him, and he turned.
Auburn hair, green eyes, beautiful face… "Layla," he realized. "I need your help."
"To save the boy. I know," she replied. "Get back to shore. He'll be safe with me."
"But-I-he," Mike protested. Layla shook her head.
"You try to save him and you'll both drown. Now get back. I swim better than you," she scolded him. Then, without another word, she was off, under the water, and away.
Mike sighed, knowing she was right. He swam back to shore and paced along the beach, waiting anxiously.
Somewhere beyond the waves, he spotted a small boy. In the shallow water, he came walking towards him.
"Thomas," Mike cheered. He'd never been so pleased to see him in his life. "Are you alright?" He rushed towards the boy and walked with him to shore.
"I'll be okay," Thomas replied. Mike wrapped him in a towel and looked out at the ocean.
"Where is she?" he wondered aloud. Thomas looked up at Mike.
"I-I don't know," he replied. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "She wants to meet you, Uncle Mike."
"Meet me?" Mike asked, confused.
Thomas nodded. He coughed up a bit of water and then continued: "At the cliffs," he pointed out to the rocky outcrop far out to sea. "She said she needed to talk to you."
"Will you be alright here?" Mike asked, reluctant to leave Thomas alone when he'd been nearly drowned.
Thomas nodded. "I'll be fine, Uncle Mike. Go talk to her." He smiled and wrapped the towel around himself.
Mike looked reluctant, but agreed. He swam out to the rocks.
"Layla?" he called in a whisper. "Are you here?"
"I'm right here," he heard her reply behind him, and he turned around.
"You wanted to talk to me?" he asked. Something shivering inside of him told him this was important. "What is it?" he asked, before she could speak another word.
"I have to tell you, Mike, you deserve to know," she told him.
"Tell me what?" he asked, putting a hand on her arm.
"Why you and I can't be together," she replied. "We're from different worlds."
"We don't need to let that stop us…" he began, but she cut him off.
"Mike, it won't work out," she told him. Mike felt a shiver run down his spine.
"It won't work or you won't let it?" he accused. "Layla, please. Give me a chance."
"Mike, I'm sorry," she replied, and turned away.
Mike grabbed her arm. "Layla, please. I'm beggin' you. Try."
"I wanted to help you," she began.
"And you did. You saved my life a million times. You don't owe me anything. But please."
"Mike, just trust me, okay? It won't work."
"Because you won't try!"
"You wanna know? Okay, here, I'll show you, Mike! I'll show you why it won't work out." Layla's green eyes were snapping with anger.
"Good, show me," Mike replied, his own temper beginning to flare.
Layla turned, breaking from his grasp, and dived under the water. Something large, green, and slimy-feeling splashed up in front of Mike's face.
Pure shock made him move backwards, and he gasped aloud.
"L-Layla?" he stammered, searching for her in the water. Had a giant fish eaten her?
Layla surfaced again. "Promise me you won't be afraid," she begged. "Please."
Mike was thoroughly confused now. "I don't understand," he replied.
"Just promise, okay? Promise you won't run away," she pleaded. Mutely, Mike nodded.
Layla sighed, taking a deep breath. "I'm not human, Mike," she told him. "I'm not from your world."
"But…you're here," Mike stuttered, unsure of what to say.
"Yes, but this isn't your world," she replied. "Your world is up there," she pointed toward the beach. "My world is right here."
"The ocean?" he asked, frowning.
She nodded.
"Layla, I don't understand," he began. Layla shook her head.
"I know," she replied. She leaned back in the water, lying on her back. Mike expected to see her legs stretch out in front of her, but instead of legs, he was met with the same thin, slimy thing that had greeted him before. Now he was able to see what it was.
It was a long, green, slimy tail. Like a fish had.
Mike wasn't certain what to make of it, and he began to mumble.
