When the two reached the taverna on the desolate beach, there was no one there. Doc fondly remembered the place and was amazed how things had not changed in many years. As theirs was the first sea taxi of the day, he understood there might be more people arriving later, as it was Greece's island custom to party until late at night and wake up by midday or later for beach-going. That's when tourists and locals alike would head to the beaches and lounge for the remainder of the long day, swimming and sunning until sunset. At that point they would return to their hotels to shower, dress for the night and begin the whole cycle again.

But Doc and Maera were qualitatively different from all those who would be swimming and sunning on most of the beaches that day. He recognized his own uniqueness as a bona fide recluse, escaping humanity as he had once known and willingly participated with it. And Maera, well, Maera was such an enigma that she defied all explanation to anyone who did not know—as Doc so exclusively did, her origins somewhere manifested out of thin air, and the otherwise impossibility of physically embodying the ancient myths.

There on that unpopulated beach, as the two walked in the sand, it all seemed to make sense to Doc: That all of it—the world he once knew, had now morphed into something at once uncannily foreign and unrecognizable, yet at the same time beautiful and euphoric. He no longer wanted to question it, but rather just immerse himself into it further with his new companion, and in a way that continued to please both of them.

The two took refuge at the taverna from the early heat. They sat in the large purple beanbag chairs, and under the palm frond umbrellas. Doc could see no one working the bar inside and knew it was a result of the early hour. Maera, after placing her shopping bags on the chair, reached in and fished out her new pink bathing suit. Standing next to him she modestly turned around and quickly undressed herself to put on the suit.

"It's beautiful, Doc," she said turning and bending down to give him a kiss on the cheek. She took a long, loving look at the wide-open sea and walked toward it, eventually diving into the shallows and not surfacing until she was far out offshore. Doc took the occasion to also change into his bathing suit. Escaping the bright sun, he too waded out into the water and swam out a few meters, eventually immersing his whole body under the cooling salt water.

As he swam further out, he could clearly see the distant bottom brilliantly white and reflecting up. It was only a short time before Maera appeared as a pink and flesh-colored flash below him. She then surfaced and smiled, throwing back her golden hair out of her eyes.

"It must feel good to be home again in the sea," he said.

"Oh, yes," she answered, smiling again and gliding effortlessly close to him. "Doc, I want you to do something for me."

"And just what might that be," he asked, treading the water with some difficulty.

"I want you to kiss me . . . sweetly under the water."

It was a romantic idea, but there lingered in Doc's collective consciousness, some menacing idea of purpose that the Nymph might be up to. Wasn't this, after all, how she had behaved for thousands of years, luring helpless men into the sea, below the waves, and for just such a kiss?

"OK. So how do we . . ."

"Just go down under the water and meet me there. We will kiss."

Again, some distant alarm bell went off in Doc's former, more academic mind. This strange apprehension was compounded by his feeling of helplessness, being out of his element in the deeper water.

Maera moved closer to him. Close enough to hold him in her arms.

Was this how the end may have come to some of those unfortunate men of long ago--irresistible to the Nymphs' charms?

It was now all a matter of trust, Doc thought. And something else he had not counted on, as far back as first meeting Maera—his current and undeniable love for her.

"Alright. I'm ready," he said, pushing his fears away.

He took a deep breath. Then he surfaced-dived a good two meters below the surface and opened his eyes. A blurry Maera approached him in the turquois light and held her arms open to him. Their bodies met—reminiscent of how he had been with her only the night before in bed. Her face approached his, and he felt her warm lips press against his own. Her arms gently embrace him, then held him tightly. Doc prolonged the kiss as long as he could, caressing her back and shoulders during the final breathless moments.

It was now or never, he thought, if some other unexpected act would occur, consistent with the mythological protocol of Nereids and men. But there was none. Just her merciful release of him and their tandem rise to the surface.

"That was wonderful!" she said, showing nothing of his own breathlessness.

"Good. . . It was very different than kissing you . . . last night."

"Oh, don't remind me of that now, Doc. I will want you to do it all over again." She laughed, then surface-dived again and disappeared.

Doc looked around for her, below him and in the distance, but she was obviously manoeuvring adroitly as only a sea Nymph could below the surface. As he began to swim back to the shore, he looked out again and saw her head surface and hand wave to him—obviously content to be back in her home element.

When he reached the beach and the amorphous chair, he died off with one of the towels and sat, looking out to the horizon. Once again, that gnawing feeling came over him about Maera's capriciousness. Was she going to leave him there at that place? On that day? After her adventures—and after her carnal desires and interest in humans had been spent the night before?

Fortunately, an incoming kaiki took his mind off the lingering uncertainty. It was obviously the next beech taxi for the day, and once again. with only two last passengers in it. As it beached itself and the fisherman-captain threw down the portable ramp, an older man and woman, obviously not tourists, walked down carrying heavy boxes.

"Kalimera!," the couple said To Doc, then cordially asked him how his day was going in Greek.

He answered back in kind and told them he was enjoying the quiet and serenity of the far side of the island. The couple went about their business and carried their freight into the taverna. It then occurred to him that these were the proprietors of the beach bar, and most likely for many years, considering their age and weary demeaner.

"We'll have cold drinks in a little while . . . after the generator gets the refrigerator working," the woman said to him.

"Bravo," was Doc's response, adding a customary hand to his chest in appreciation. By then the kaiki had backed-up, putting its engine in reverse and soon was heading back around Lefkada to ferry but another group of beach-goers to their favorite piece of paradise.

It was another full hour while Doc tried to sleep in the shade of the umbrella, responding lazily to the rigors of his long night in the hotel. When he looked up, he thankfully saw the beautiful Nymph rising out of the water and padding across the sand toward him. He offered her a towel, but she refused, seeming to not want to part with even the silver droplets of water which had beaded up on her lovely skin.

"That was so nice!" she said. "I swam far out. And found the deepest canyon. So dark and blue and quiet. Only dolphins were there, Doc. And many fishes which I chased for fun."

Doc could see and hear the genuine elation in Maera's voice and her wide smile. It was touching to him to witness her joy at communing once more so fully with her natural element.

"Well, I actually thought maybe . . . you wouldn't come back. Now that you can return to the sea."

"No, Doc. I would not leave you here. We are together. And we are good for each other . . . in many ways."

This comment touched Doc's heart even more.

"Yes, I think we are Maera," he said softly.

For the rest of the day, the two napped in the sun surrounded by a few more adventuresome guests, who finally arrived on subsequent boats. Doc and Maera swam together, kissed again below the surface—as a silly favor to the Nymph, and generally spent much of the long day in each other's arms.

When the sunset came, and the last sea taxi blew its horn as a final warning to return, the fifteen or so beach-adventurers, along with Doc and Maera, climbed back onto the final kaiki, assisting the dutiful proprietors with their boxes on board.

"We'll go back on the ferry tonight to Mytikas," Doc whispered to her, en route to the Lefkada port.

"Yes," Maera said, whispering back. "To our home. Where you live on the land, and I live in the sea."

Doc just nodded and smiled to himself. It had truly been a beautiful day.

* * *