It was still, completely still. The water was completely still. The ship no longer caused a stir, the power the storm that blew them there gone. The ship was completely still. Seaweed touched the calm surface. The seaweed was completely still. The captain leaned over the side. He grasped a bottle of empty rum in a hand

He let the bottle go. It splashed into the sea. Little waves rippled the surface of the water. The sea was no longer still. The bottle bumped into seaweed. The seaweed was no longer still. The captain smiled sadly, shock his head, and went to his cabin.

The seaweed rustled and a small head popped out of the water. It was a she with green tinted skin and seaweed hair. The cabin boy waved at her; she waved back. She opened her mouth and sang.

Sleep fell across the ship. The captain fell onto his bead and started snoring as he developed a blue bruise on his forehead in the shape of lips from the carvings around his bed. Sailors slept on their post and the singing continued.

When everyone but the cabin boy slept, green heads appeared around the ship. All of them sang, even the cabin boy. A wind stirred and the sails stretched like a balloon.

The singing carried the ship to port and left it there. The original singer stayed. When she was alone, she swam up to where the cabin boy was. She sang up to the boy and the boy sang to her.

The sailors awoke to the singing, the captain still slumbered but with good dreams. Those away cried out at the site of port.

The singer waved and left the boy. “Goodbye,” he whispered, “Mother.”