"Lucy? Lucy, could you check the bread dough? It should be risen by now." Helen Pevensie pushed her younger daughter into the kitchen.
"Yes Mum."
"We need everything to be ready. Oh, what a day, what a day!"
And what a day it was. The war was finally over, Mr. Pevensie was back home, and Peter had finished his studies for the year and was coming home too. No one felt today's joy more deeply than Mrs. Pevensie, who had worked five years in a munitions factory, sent her husband to war, her children to the country, and seen them all come back changed. Something had certainly happened to her children all those years ago in the country, but whatever it was, they'd all grown up so wonderfully. She personally suspected they'd been made to do farm labor, but they refused to tell.
"Bread dough's risen, Mum!" Lucy took the dish towel off the bowl of dough and punched it down. "I always love punching the dough."
"Don't punch it too hard." Susan was standing by the table polishing silverware. "Or else it'll come out flat."
Lucy nodded and carefully transferred the bread to the baking board, pausing to push loose strands of hair out of her face as she worked and glaring at Susan while the latter wasn't looking. Lucy had been kneading the bread dough for a few minutes and already had flour down her front, while Susan had been cleaning the house all day and was still spotless.
"Girls, do you know where Edmund ran off to?" Mrs. Pevensie looked around the kitchen. "Is he with Dad?"
"He's at cousin Eustace's house." said Susan, who had moved on to washing out a heavy glass vase. "Said he had to borrow something to show Peter when he comes home."
"Oh. Well, he mustn't miss supper."
"What on earth does he want to borrow from that little twat?" Susan frowned and scrubbed at a stubborn spot.
"He's borrowing that painting." said Lucy mildly. "The one of the Dawn Treader. Peter wanted to see it."
"Right." Susan rolled her eyes.
As if on cue, Edmund burst through the back door with the painting tucked under his arm. "Got the painting all right!"
"Aunt Alberta was all right with it?" Lucy paused to wipe her hands.
"You know Aunt Alberta. She hates this thing. She'd never know if it was gone."
"And are we showing this thing to Peter tonight after dinner?" Susan asked.
"Well, you and Peter both." Edmund set the painting on the table next to the silverware Susan had finished polishing. "You haven't seen the painting either, I guess. But Peter was the one who wanted to see it. I was thinking we all could look at it after dinner."
"Well don't take too long." Susan picked up the silverware and returned it to its drawer. "Robbie Heatherwick is having a party tonight and I can't be late again."
"Oh yes, of course, mustn't miss whats-his-face's party tonight." Edmund snapped. "After all, there's going to be oh so many soldier boys there."
"You know, Ed, it might do you good to get out and go to a party every now and then. It's loads better than being holed up with Lucy talking about silly old Narnia."
"We like talking about Narnia."
"Narnia's in the past along with the war, there's no good talking about it anymore." Susan took Edmund's arm and dragged him across the floor, pausing to twirl him under her arm. "The war's over and the future is wide open. Think about the possibilities!"
"I don't need you to help me think about possibilities, thank you very much." Edmund tugged his hand out of Susan's. "I'd better take this upstairs."
"Fine. Be that way! Be boring!"
"With all due respect, Susan, you're the boring one." said Lucy.
"I'm practical, Lucy. Besides, there's nothing wrong with having a bit of fun. You and Edmund could try it sometimes." Susan went back to cleaning, intentionally not meeting Lucy's eyes. She knew too well the scornful look Lucy would have, a look frequently reserved only for her. And everyone always said Lucy was the kindest of the Pevensies.
"Well, we're off to pick up Peter from the train station." Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. "Will you all be all right while we're gone?"
"We'll be perfectly fine." Susan didn't even look up from her work. "Drive safely."
"We'll be back later."
After the elder Pevensies left, Lucy wrestled the bread dough into a pan, slid the pan into the oven, and went upstairs after Edmund to look at the painting. Once Susan had cleaned the kitchen to her liking she, too, went upstairs, though not to Edmund and Peter's room where the painting was. She went to her own bedroom to pick out a dress to wear to tonight's party.
It was too bad about the rationing, otherwise she might have been able to get a new dress. But tonight she'd have to make do with either her blue party dress or her yellow party dress. She settled on the blue, made of delicate material that hugged her curves and matched her blue eyes. Maybe someday soon she'd be able to buy real nylon stockings too, now that the war was over. She took the dress and laid it out on her bed, then took the shoes she was going to wear and placed them at the foot of her bed. After that she went to her vanity and took out her favorite tube of red lipstick. The war was over, Peter was coming home. Everything was looking up tonight.
"We're home!" A voice echoed on the ground floor.
"Peter!" Susan dropped the tube of lipstick she'd been holding and hurried downstairs.
"Peter's home!" Lucy pushed past Susan and ran down the stairs.
"Hello!" Peter set down his bags as the girls ran into the room. "How are you, Su?" He pulled her into a hug.
"I'm all right Peter, how are you?"
"Exams just about killed me, but I think I got through all right. Lucy!" He pulled her into their embrace. "How lovely to see you! Where's Edmund?"
"Right here. I decided not run in the house the way these two did."
Peter clapped Edmund on the back. "How are you, Edmund?"
"Just swell. I finished up interviewing Polly about her time in Narnia to finish up my notes." Edmund had painstakingly interviewed Peter, Lucy, Eustace, and now Polly and Professor Kirke about their times in Narnia to try to build a comprehensive history of their adventures there. "Susan, there's still time if you'd like to be interviewed.
Susan made a face. "I'd rather stab myself with a fork."
"It's so lovely that you children still talk about you childhood games." said Mrs. Pevensie. "Come on now, into the kitchen, we've almost got supper ready."
"Yes, childhood games." Susan slipped past her mother and began to serve up food. "You would think dear Peter especially would have outgrown them by now."
"Don't you start." Peter whispered in her ear. "Don't. The war's over and everyone's back home. Let's be happy tonight."
"I wasn't the one who brought it up, Edmund was." Susan hissed as she slid the roast out of the oven.
"I don't care. You always make things worse when you talk about Narnia."
"I don't like it when Edmund brings it up." Susan slammed the roast onto the table with more force than was necessary. "He's incapable of talking to me in a mature way."
"Edmund, don't antagonize your sister." said Mrs. Pevensie, who hadn't heard most of Peter and Susan's conversation.
"I didn't do anything." Edmund grumbled.
The Pevensies sat down around the table and the conversation swiftly turned to what Peter had been studying with Professor Kirke. Susan stiffened every time the professor's name was mentioned and steeled her resolve, thinking about the party tonight where she and her friends would dance and make merry, and the dark days of the war could be forgotten. After all, she told herself, the dark days of the war weren't just the war here, but also the battle and bloodshed she'd seen in Narnia. And fighting mythical creatures with bow and arrow didn't make war any prettier.
"Well, Peter, do make sure to rest up while you're here." Mrs. Pevensie's voice jolted Susan back to reality. "You only have a few months before it's off to university in the fall."
"Look at you." Mr. Pevensie added. "Our boy, off to university." Susan smiled as she watched her parents fawning over Peter, hope gleaming in their eyes after so many years of destruction. Why couldn't Edmund and Lucy see it too? There was so much to hope for here, in the real world. There was no more room for talk of Narnia, an adventure that ended in heartbreak for Susan.
"And Edmund had something he wanted to show you, a picture of something . . . what was it, Ed?" Mrs. Pevensie went on.
"A painting." Edmund supplied. "A lovely painting that Aunt Alberta has. She lent it to me because Peter wanted to see it."
"Well, you'll have to wait." said Susan. "Mum, Lucy, and I spent all day cleaning this kitchen and cooking supper, and you'll sit and enjoy all of it." Susan knew the kitchen like the back of her hand after so many years.
"Of course." said Peter. "Susan, I wouldn't dream of skipping out on the supper you worked so hard to prepare. Is there dessert too?"
"Yes, there's custard." The custard was probably extra tart because they hadn't been able to get nearly enough sugar, but custard was custard.
"I look forward to it."
As the last scraps of roast and bread and potatoes disappeared into the family's mouths, Susan went to the icebox and took out the dishes of custard. She was right, it had come out rather tart due to the lack of sugar. Still, no one commented on that as they ate. By this point they were all familiar with rationing. The family was quiet as they ate; they'd all had a long day and were anxious to rest.
"Well, all right. Peter, come upstairs, we've got the painting there." Edmund pushed back his chair and stood up as soon as he finished his custard.
The moment had arrived, then. Susan would have to go upstairs and look at that blasted painting. "I really ought to stay and clean the kitchen." She said, desperate to get out of this.
"No, no, Susan." Her mother said. "You cleaned the whole kitchen this afternoon. I'll wash up, you go and look at the picture Edmund wanted to show you."
"Oh, all right." Susan set her napkin down and headed up the stairs to Edmund's room, where the painting of the old, old ship on the sea was perched on the bed. Susan actually hadn't seen the painting before and a small part of her held curiosity, but she averted her eyes and chose instead to look at the framed family photo on Edmund's night stand.
"So that's the painting, huh?" Peter looked it up and down. "That is a Narnian ship all right."
Lucy nodded. "I know we can't get back into Narnia that way, but I wanted to see it again for old times' sake."
"Of course. Just like Professor Kirke let me see the old wardrobe while I was studying with him. It's all fur coats and mothballs now, but it made me smile every time I saw it."
Susan sighed loudly, but the others ignored her.
"That's the ship, then?" Peter leaned in closer. "Wow. Aslan had such mysterious ways of bringing us back, didn't he?"
Susan snorted.
"Did you need something, Susan?" Lucy asked. "Take my handkerchief; you sound like you're having trouble breathing."
"You could also just leave." said Edmund. "After all, you wanted to go to that party, right? Typical Susan, shallow and thoughtless—"
"Dammit, Edmund, I'm trying to pick up all the confused pieces of my life and you come in here parading around relics from your Narnia trip, a Narnia trip I wasn't allowed to go on, and on top of that you go and call me stupid!"
Lucy gasped. She'd never heard Susan swear before. "Susan!"
"I'm sorry, Lu. What I meant was, it still hurts being reminded that you and Edmund got to go again and I didn't. Dumped like so much garbage without a second thought."
"Aslan said we weren't coming back after that trip." Lucy sat down next to Susan. "I told you that, right?"
"Yes, you did. And I forgot you told me that. I'm sorry."
Lucy leaned against Susan's shoulder, swinging her feet. "We don't know why Aslan doesn't want us back, other than us being too old. But I'm sure it's for the best. He doesn't think we're garbage and he's never steered us wrong yet, has he?"
"I dunno. I guess not. What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That noise. That rumbling noise." Susan got up and went to the window, scanning habitually for German bombers. "Am I going crazy? I swear I hear a rumbling noise."
"No, I hear it too." said Peter. "It sounds like it's coming from in this room though."
"Oh me too." Lucy jumped to her feet. The floor was vibrating under their feet now, and they instinctively reached out and grabbed each other's hands. The shaking grew stronger and large cracks webbed across the floor between their feet. Susan had just enough time to scream before the floor broke in two and they all fell towards glittering blue water.
She plunged beneath the surface of the cold water, reeling, trying to find her way back up. Susan had always been a strong swimmer and tried to kick her legs to propel herself back up, but something was horribly wrong. Her legs didn't work right. She looked down and fought the urge to vomit. Her legs were gone, replaced with a shimmering green mermaid tail.
Susan screamed, realizing as she did so that she had gills on the side of her neck. She wasn't gasping or turning blue under the water. She flicked her tail and began to rise, finally breaking the surface. "We're mermaids!" she wailed.
