Dyesebel

Call Of The Sea 

Growing up is such a barbarous business, full of inconvenience… and pimples. - J.M. Barrie

I was a comic book nut.  

Friday afternoons, I would wait for the hawker's voice, plying the latest edition of Tagalog Klasiks. I loved its stories of magic and dragons.

I grew up on the hilarious antics of Kenkoy, scary bouts with the tikbalang, and adventures of super-heroines like Darna.

But my most favorite of all? Dyesebel.

She was half-maiden and half-fish, both mysterious and enchanting. Like fairies, she had magical powers. She loved music and often sang.

I was enthralled that she had the ability to breath underwater. I would imagine her many exciting exploits.

Like when she fell in love with the human Fredo.

I think she was sunning on a rock and he just happened to be passing by. 

He smiled and she smiled back at him with unguarded pleasure. No words needed to be uttered aloud. It was a companionable silence, not the silence of strangers but of lovers who knew each other intimately enough that words weren't necessary when the moment spoke for itself.

Sigh... 

Snuggled in a rattan hammock under our balkon, comic book in one hand and a pan de sal in the other, I remember how I would savor each episode, smiling coyly. I was mouthing the words without making a sound as I read on.

And how I would whisper in protest when the episode ended with, Itutuloy (To be continued).

(Spoiler alert): In the end, Dyesebel became a human permanently, and she and Fredo got married.

In my youth, I hadn't realized it, as I do now. 

Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living.

It's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. 

Perhaps, even through the rear end of a mermaid's tail fins.