The inlet of water was deeper than it was wide, creating a darkness that looked as foreboding as its name of ‘Deadman.’ But neither the name or the shadow deterred Mason from his goal.
The boat was almost too small for both Mason and his cello as he rowed to the center of the inlet and dropped anchor. He waited for the sun to silently slip beneath the distant waves before he stood the cello up and began to play.
Mason was in his own world and didn’t at first notice the dozens of eyes that stared at him from the water, heads bobbing in the gentle surf. His audience, mermaids and mermen, could feel the vibrations of the music resonating from the bottom of the boat through the salty brine of the sea.
The longer and with greater spirit Mason played, the larger his audience grew and the closer they came. In fact, to his amazement several of the mythical creatures clung to the sides of the row-boat, listening and cooing in soft tones between one another.
Mason’s heart filled with delight and he played until dawn, the sun bursting from the eastern hillside, upon the open water. Finished, he laid his cello aside, stood and took a deep bow, awaiting his sea-bound listeners to heap their praises upon him.
His cello was unscathed.