After swim class my 7-year-old student took a Benadryl and asked
The Mermaid Game and the 911 Call
After swim class, my seven-year-old student took a Benadryl and asked, “How long can you hold your breath underwater?” I smiled. Maybe like 120 seconds. Why?
Well, I can do 3 minutes because me and daddy play mermaids every night.
I raised an eyebrow. And how does that game usually go?
When it’s 8:30, we get in the special water. No moving allowed, even when the sparkles come.
The sparkles?
Yeah, they come after you count to 100 under the water. My brother Mikey was the best at getting sparkles. One time he got so many that daddy had to call an ambulance.
She yawned. But that was before he moved to grandma’s house. Except grandma died last year, so I don’t know where Mikey really is.
That’s when I noticed the streaks of concealer on her shoulders. Yellow-green bruises showed underneath.
3 minutes is a long time to hold your breath. I kept my voice steady while checking my phone. Her mom was already 20 minutes late.
Not if you practice every night.
Daddy has a special stopwatch just for mermaid time. Emily rubbed her eyes and more concealer smeared away, revealing purple fingerprints. Last week, I did 3 minutes and 17 seconds. That’s my record.
That’s impressive. The entire pool hall was now completely empty. What happens if you come up early?
That’s losing. Losers don’t get breakfast.
She said it matter-of-fact, like she was explaining game rules. She crossed her legs and her sweatpants rode up, revealing deep circular bruises around both ankles. Rope marks.
Katie only lasts 40 seconds because she’s five and she’s weak, so she hasn’t had breakfast in 4 days. My stomach dropped.
Katie’s your sister.
Yeah.
She cries too much during practice, so now she has to do it twice, morning and night. Emily shifted and her swim bracelet slid up. Underneath was a faded hospital band. Daddy says crying means you’re not trying hard enough.
I gently touched the hospital band. What’s this from?
Oh, that’s from when I slept too long in the tub.
She twisted it around her tiny wrist. The doctor asked, but daddy explained that doctors don’t understand mermaid training. The Benadryl was making her drowsier.
I tried texting the school counselor, but the automated response came back immediately. Office closed after 5:00 p.m.
Does mommy play mermaids, too?
No. She watches TV super loud during practice time. Emily’s words were starting to slur.
I scrolled through my contacts looking for anyone who could help. Every teacher had gone home.
My daddy’s the best.
Emily smiled sleepily. He gives us medicine to help us stay underwater every night. He said, “Most daddies don’t do that.”
Emily, has anyone else seen you play mermaids?
No, silly. Just daddy and the camera.
She picked at where more concealer was flaking off, revealing greenish-yellow bruises down her arms. He records us with the waterproof camera. He says it’s for his special folder to show other daddies how to train mermaids.
40 minutes late. Daddy was a Navy SEAL. Her eyes were barely open now.
He can hold his breath for five whole minutes. He showed us once, but mommy ran out and threw up, so he doesn’t demonstrate anymore.
What happened to Mikey before he moved in with your grandma?
He was really good. His record was 3 minutes and 47 seconds.
She yawned. But then he breathed in the water and ruined everything. Daddy was disappointed because Mikey was so close to becoming a real merman.
What? That’s when you transform.
When you become a real mermaid forever and ever. Daddy said, “If I don’t make 4 minutes tonight, I’ll have to go live with grandma, too.”
Suddenly, her eyes were filled with light. That’s why tonight is special. He said, “If I make it to 4 minutes, I’ll grow a tail and never have to come up for air again.”
I brought her inside for some food, and as soon as she was distracted, I dialed 911. I need police and CPS at the aquatic center immediately. A child just disclosed systematic drowning abuse.
I rattled off the address while watching the parking lot entrance.
“Katie’s home by herself right now.” Emily suddenly remembered. She’s waiting in the bathroom. Daddy makes her sit there until we get back for practice.
What if I don’t make it to 4 minutes? Emily asked drowsily. Will I have to go away too?
A gray Corolla finally pulled into the empty lot. I stepped in front of Emily. Her mother saw me on the phone and her face changed. She knew exactly why I was calling.
Is that mommy?
Emily tried to stand but wobbled. I can’t be late for practice. Tonight’s the night I become a real mermaid.
The mother stepped out of the car but stopped dead when she saw the flashing lights pulling into the lot behind her. Two police cars rolled up with their lights on but no sirens.
Her face went from confused to angry in about 2 seconds. She started yelling that this was all a big misunderstanding about swimming lessons while her hands shook as she dug through her purse for her phone. I kept my hand on Emily’s shoulder while she watched her mom trying to call someone.
The officers got out of their cars and walked over to us. One of them bent down to Emily’s level while his partner moved toward her mother.
The mother kept saying this was just swimming practice and I didn’t understand their family’s training methods.
Emily looked up at the officer who was talking to her and asked if she was in trouble for not making it to 4 minutes yet.
I told her she didn’t do anything wrong and squeezed her shoulder gently. The officer asked Emily about the marks on her ankles that were showing under her sweatpants.
