I work at an aquarium and get to take care of the bull sharks, the conger eels, a tank of nudibranchs, and the tide pool tanks that contain anemones, urchins, and sea cucumbers. It is a dream job for a future marine biologist like me. My whole life I have studied, collected, and read all I can about sea life, and anything having to do with the ocean. I am a college student at a major California university.
When I got the job at the aquarium I knew I had died and gone to heaven. My life got even better when one night after everyone less motivated than me had gone home and I, quite by accident, discovered the tanks in the sub basement section of the premises at the far corner of the nearly forgotten area behind the clearly restricted section called the 'experimental' tank area that had a worn and rusted sign that said "research staff only."
Incredibly curious, I worked my way passed the out of bounds signs and came upon a large well-kept tank with a bright light above it and a large platform built on one side with a small bed-like piece of furniture and what looked like an operating table. When I came near I saw a swirl in the water and a splash as something frightened by my presence dived below the surface.
My curiosity would not let me leave and I ducked behind a partition and waited, watching for whatever it was in the big tank. For nearly an hour I squatted back on my bent legs and watched the surface of the pool. Nothing happened for the longest time. Finally, just before I was ready to give up and leave a head popped above the surface. Slowly, cautiously. It was, I finally realized, a woman's head. The creature looked around warily, then climbed out of the water and sat on the edge of the platform. I could not believe my eyes. It was certainly a woman, at least most of her was. I watched her for nearly an hour, stunned at what I was seeing.
What, or who, came out of the water was certainly mostly woman, mostly human, lovely actually, but with a tail. A beautiful, mostly human woman with bare breasts, long wet hair, and a fish-like tail: a mermaid. A creature I didn't believe in. I had enough empirical knowledge that I clearly know such creatures did not exist. I knew most of the species at the aquarium, their scientific names (genus and species). I knew their phylum, their class, family, genus and species. Since most were in the animal Kingdom I knew that as well. But I had no idea what this creature could be.
Finally, I made a noise and she whirled around, catching sight of me and hurrying for the water. I quickly moved out from my hiding place and called to her, imploring her not to go. For some reason she paused and gazed at me and didn't move. I came out from behind the partition and moved slowly towards her, my arms out to my sides to let her know I meant her no harm.
She clearly was lonely, stuck back in the back of the facility, all alone, totally isolated from everyone. I moved up next to her and she looked puzzled, not knowing who I was. I was not one of the biologists who worked with her, but not someone who she seemed to be afraid of either. Somehow we communicated without knowing each other's language. I told her with hand signals that I would come back to see her. I had been able to sit close to her, to somehow let her know I was a friend. I was able to sit with her on that platform for over an hour and eventually I touched her arm. She did not pull away and seemed to need the physical contact. I had seen a cardboard sign on the side of the tank that said Elsa on it, handwritten in bold black lettering.
"Elsa," I said. She seemed to know it was what they called her and she smiled at me and pointed to me. "Jacob," I said slowly, pointing at my chest. She tried to say Jacob and came close, trying a number of times. When I finally left, I realized I had been down there nearly three hours, and I quickly resolved to return soon to see her again.
I had met and communicated with a live mermaid, and I could hardly control my elation, my excitement, and
the incredible realization that I had seen something that most people didn't even believe in, including me up to that moment next to the tank.
When I got home, I eagerly searched for her taxonomy, her classification. I needed a taxonomist, but was afraid to ask anyone directly what classification a mermaid was. I certainly knew what I had seen. What person in his right mind, however, would come right out and ask an actual scientist what was the genus and species of a mythological sea creature that everyone knew was imaginary
Elsa is clearly a chordate, unquestionably mammal, has all the characteristics of being a primate, but what family would she be? What genus? Let alone what species? I looked in every source I could think of: every book I owned, websites, did Google searches, emailed experts, even took the chance to casually ask, being as seemingly droll as I could be, my biology professor. Laughing as I asked, wanting to seem as if I were actually just kidding. He simply laughed, believing, of course that I was joking.
