So, stuff. I got one review on the last chapter, but I'm hoping to get a few more on this one. Even if they're to say that I'm a horrible person for a variety of reasons.
Mermaids in the East River
Chapter 2
Whistler led David around corners, through narrow alleys, into and out of buildings, and over rooftops for what seemed like hours, until the darker boy was sure he'd never be able to find his way back to the lodginghouse. Finally Whistler let go of David's wrist and stopped.
They were on a dock at the edge of the East River, in an area that David roughly identified as Corlears Hook. The moon hung in the sky like a new minted dollar, its reflection quivering on the surface of the river. David looked at it for a moment or two, wondering at the mysterious beauty of the summer night.
"Now what?" he said.
Whistler held a finger to his lips, then took off his shoes and stockings, motioning for David to do the same. The redheaded boy then hopped down off the dock and onto the wet sand, padding on bare feet over to the water's edge. Crouching, he whistled a few slow trills, then sat back on his haunches to wait.
"What are you doing?" David whispered.
"Whisht!" came the hushed reply.
David had just come to the conclusion that Whistler was even battier than he'd thought when he saw something break the surface of the water about twenty feet from the shore. It was a head. A burst of giggling laughter rang out, then the head dove back under the water to be replaced by an enormous two-finned tail, which then also disappeared. David looked over at Whistler, who was smiling.
"Wait," Whistler whispered.
A flash of silver gleamed in the water, coming closer to the two boys. Then the head popped up again. This time David could see that it was the head of a woman with long fair hair and dark, slanted eyes. Her shoulders were bare. The woman smiled, and David shuddered. She had a strange, unearthly beauty that made him almost forget how sharp her teeth looked.
"Rhui," she breathed. "An grassoin duinne, quille?
"Ea David," Whistler replied. He pronounced it "Dah-veet", which he had never done before. "Ea ceiaraid."
"What language is that?" David asked, feeling rather left out.
The woman giggled. "English, then? Friend David?" she asked, skillfully skirting the question. "Rhui never mentions you."
"Who's Rhui?"
"I am," said Whistler.
The woman continued. "Rhui mentions others—Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon, Racetrack Higgins." She smiled. "Les Jacobs."
"Hey, that's my brother!" David exclaimed.
"He is very wise," she said. "He will grow up well." She turned toward Whistler, but continued in English for David's benefit. "This one is doubtful. Help me to show him."
Whistler rolled up his trouser legs and waded out to her. He lifted her clear of the water and carried her to shore, then set her gently on the wet sand.
David gulped. She had no legs, and in their place was a long, silvery-green tail with two fins at the end. He frowned.
"Whistler—" he began.
"You may touch," said the mermaid. David hurriedly shook his head. He wanted to go home.
"Maybe some other time, Airge," Whistler told her. "He's a little in shock at the moment. I should probably get 'im home."