A Merric's Tale

by Margs Murray

  “Oh, yes, dear.” Iris nodded sincerely and took my hand. “We all have people like that in families, but you mustn’t believe their tales. The Galvantry have done many terrible things to this country. You’re young, but when you see a little more of the world, you’ll see. You’ll see.”

  “My, you are young looking.” Mary squinted at me. “How old are you?”

  Geez, I hadn't expected that question. Eighteen was way too young to get hitched and I couldn’t remember Hannah’s stats so I went with Andrew’s age. “We’re both twenty-two.”

  “Andrew looks his age but Hannah, you barely look sixteen.”

  I’d always looked young. It was the genes. “My mom and grandma look young too.”

  Greer nodded. “We get that all the time. You should see the looks people give us.”

  “To be young and in love again,” Iris lamented.

  “Forget love, to be young and have fun.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” The women clashed their glasses together.

  “So what other theories does your uncle have?” Iris asked, and her eyes went to slits. “I hope we’re not riding with a Galvantry sympathizer.”

  Greer stood up. “You’re running low. How about I get you both a New England Sunrise?”

  “I like how you think,” Mary replied.

  “How about four! The more the merrier.”

  “All right. Four drinks and a turkey sandwich.” Greer came over and hissed in my ear. “Say nothing. Excuse yourself and go to the private bathroom across the hall until I return.”

  As soon as he left, I stood up and was holy cow dizzy. I had to hold the seat to steady myself. Mary laughed. “You are a lightweight. First time drinking? Spend the week with us and we’ll turn you into a fish.”

  “Excuse me. I have to—”

  “Sit, sit. We must talk.” I walked towards the bathroom, but the movement of the train and the drink made it difficult.

  Iris took my hand and put me back in the seat. “So, tell us about your husband. How did you meet? What was the wedding like?”

  “I, um—”

  “The tension between the two of you is plain juicy,” Mary said. “I bet the wedding night was fun, to say the least. What’s he like?”

  “He’s a gentleman,” I said. “He’s probably the best person I’ve ever met.”

  It hit me then how much I meant it. He was the best person I’d ever met or would ever meet. This wasn’t a simple crush and I didn’t just like Greer.

  “How long have the two of you been together?”

  “Only recently, but I’ve had feelings for him for some time. Maybe the moment I met him.” My stomached swirled with butterflies. Vague half-truths rushed their way out of my mouth. “Maybe it was at the opera, or the hike on the hill. The river when we saw the owl. Running in the rain. I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  “We can see the love between you as plain as day.”

  Greer returned with three pinkish purple drinks. He played all nicey-nicey with the women but gave me quite the scowl. I smiled, letting him know I’d done all right and not said anything that would get us in trouble.

  The women were oblivious, and Iris admitted, “Your wife was telling us how much she loves you.”

  “Oh, was she?” He smiled down at me.

  “So, when did you realize you were in love with Hannah?”

  I waited with this sickeningly hopeful feeling.

  “The moment I saw her.” He said this offhandedly, like it was nothing. Unlike me, this wasn’t real to him and his response was proof. When Greer first saw me, he told me to run and, in the cellar, he’d forced sunglasses on me and said he knew what I was. He didn’t love me at the beginning and never would.

  He gave the women their drinks, and I noticed his was different. Less cloudy, less pinkish. I doubted his drink had alcohol in it. He was playing these women.

  I sat closer to the window while Greer and the women raised a glass to toast love. If I looked at him or them, I’d lose it. I attempted to think back to when this crush had become so large, like if I replayed the moment my feelings could revert, but it was impossible. I deeply cared for Greer, and while I didn’t know if it was love, it was something very close. Adoration was the right word for it. I adored him, and yet our situation was temporary. We couldn’t hide in the hills forever. I had to help my grandma because she was the reason for being in that crumby world, and yet the thought of not being with Greer was bringing me close to tears.

  Chapter 33

  Oh, Stuff It, Greer

  It was a short ride, but Greer kept the drinks flowing, and by the time we reached our destination, the women were six drinks in and all three were singing in their seats. The women were well pickled and they never noticed Greer was acting. I doubted they observed much about him after drink number five. I, at least, found one area where Greer did not excel: his singing was terrible.

  The ladies leaned heavily on my fake husband as they exited the car, yelling it was the most fun they’d ever had on a train. I stood alone outside the train station as Greer helped them into a cab for their destination. I couldn’t help being jealous of the women, and not just because they’d had a great time with Greer, a better time than we had ever had. They had a vacation of fun and relaxation ahead of them, and I was attempting to find words, running away from the government and helping an organization I knew nothing about. I needed a break.

  Across from the station was the largest pile of sand I had ever seen. Even through the cars and clamor of the crowd, I easily heard the surf crashing on the other side. I’d never been to the ocean before.

  I couldn’t help it. I picked up the bags and climbed the sand mound. The ocean was so large, so blue. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Greer called my fake name behind me, but I didn’t call back. I wanted this for me. I dropped the bags on the dry sand and kicked off my sandals. My feet hit the sun-cooked sand, and I ran towards the ocean.

  The cool surf lapped over my slightly singed feet. The sand bubbled as the water receded, only to return with a purple shell. This shell was mine. I picked it up and held it in the palm of my hand.

  Greer came over. “You can’t go off like that.”

  Oh, stuff it, Greer. I didn’t even want to see him at that moment. I wanted to be alone with this beautiful monstrosity. I wanted life to be simple again. I wanted to just be Waverly at the beach.

  Greer had the bags in his hands. “Come on, we better get going.”

  My feet were sinking in the wet sand. “It’s so big. I knew it would be. I mean I’ve seen movies and pictures and stuff, but this… this is amazing.”

  “You’ve never been to the ocean before?”

  “I never left Barton.”

  “Didn’t your parents take you to the beach on vacation?”

  “When I was younger, they didn’t have a lot of money. It’s hard finding a job for two teachers in our town because the school is so small, and when they finally had money, Grandma was already sick.”

  “So, your uncle never gave your family money?” Greer asked, confused.

  “Bollard wasn’t around a lot before Grandpa died,” I told him. “Grandpa was a farmer, Grandma stayed home, and they never went hungry, even when the crops weren’t great. Knowing what I know now, Bollard probably did give them some money but not a lot. Just enough to get by. He paid for Grandma’s nurses. My dad hated Bollard, and Mom wasn’t a big fan. He gave decent gifts, but they weren’t that extravagant when you consider his money. A computer. My phone. Grandma knew the truth. I was the only idiot in my family.”

  “You’re not an idiot,” Greer said. “Far from it.”

  “I didn’t see my uncle for who he was.” The waves crashed over my ankles. “I thought he was benign, you know. Kind of boring and weird. I was so wrong.”

  “Your grandmother was sick, so who would believe her? Bollard used his powers on your parents, and your father felt something was off. If you have a flaw, it is that you are trusting, but I
can’t blame you.” The next wave soaked the bottom of Greer’s pants.

  “Why do you think my uncle wasn’t around much until after my grandpa died?”

  “Your grandfather probably knew the truth.”

  I turned away from the ocean and to him. “You think he knew about this world and the Merrics?”

  “Yes, he was her anchor, so I’m sure she told him everything.”

  “Anchor? I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “She loved him, and he loved her. He made everything better for her by being near her. Let me guess; she got sick unexpectedly after he died.”

  I nodded. It was true. “After the farming accident.”

  “It wouldn’t have been any better if she had died first. He would have died too. It’s in the Merric DNA. Once they fall in love, true love, that person doesn’t have a choice. They’re locked with the Merric until the Merric or the man dies.”

  “You make falling in love with a member of my family sound like a trap.”

  He didn’t disagree. “The man can’t help it even if he tries. The anchor loves the Merric for the rest of his life.”

  I wanted to think of an example of someone who had gotten a divorce in my family, but my family was so small, limited. Mom was an only child. Grandma only had one brother, and he’d died in the war, only to be replaced (mistakenly by my family) by Bollard. My great-grandparents didn’t divorce but then again, people didn’t divorce back then. If my great-grandmother had siblings, it was beyond my knowledge.

  “People fall out of love all the time,” I said. “Grandma loved Lothaire, and he loved her, but they broke up.”

  “She loved him, but he wasn’t her anchor. He wasn’t her true love. Her true love never would have let her leave. He wouldn’t have cared about what the Merrics did because he’d love her so much he’d die before he left her. He’d fight anything, run anywhere just to be near her.” Greer took my hand again. “Time to go back, Hannah.”

  The road to Pea Island was slim with the bay on one side and large dunes and the ocean on the other.

  The cab dropped us off at a small cafe.

  Greer opened the door for me. I waited at a little round table at the back of the store while Greer purchased us both coffees. It was growing on me although I wasn’t sure if I liked it or if it was because Greer kept getting coffee for me.

  A man on his cubox was reading a paper. Headlines were about the Kansas attack. Report: As many as five hundred killed in camp explosion.

  I leaned over to see better, but I could still only make out the headline. The man waved me over. “Would you like to read it?”

  “Sorry,” I explained. “I forgot my cubox at home.”

  Some 500 people—including ten first responders—died in a massive explosion Wednesday night at a Libratier base outside of Larned, Kansas, Mayor Joanie Ernst said, according to The Kansas World Journal.

  Residents packed the Church of the Anointed in Larned to remember those who died and to pray for the survivors.

  James Sampson, the head of Larned Medical, where many victims were taken, said ninety-seven patients were still hospitalized, including twenty in the intensive care unit.

  The area around the site of the massive explosion that flattened much of the small Larned base remains “very volatile” due to the presence of—

  Five hundred people dead. Five hundred people. I couldn’t fathom it. I didn’t want to. Enemy or not, they were people. They had families. They loved their children and their spouses. They had parents and brothers and sisters.

  Greer came over and handed me my coffee. We sat in silence and drank our coffee in the air conditioning.

  We left the cafe and traveled down the street and to the beach. The afternoon sun worked with the dunes to shade the once-hot sand.

  Children played in tide pools. A few surfers caught small but rather lame waves. People sunbathed. Couples walked hand in hand along the shore.

  We walked hand in hand.

  When we were safely away from people, I asked him. “Did the Galvantry hurt those people?”

  I expected him to say no. I expected him to say it was a Libratier ploy to get people on their side. “I don’t know.”

  I turned on him. “You don’t know. How do you not know?”

  “The Galvantry doesn’t tell its members all of its plans.”

  “But you’re the good guys.” When I said it, Greer looked away. “Aren’t you?”

  “I never said the Galvantry were innocent.”

  “Yes, and they want me to—well, you haven’t exactly explained it but, Greer, you understand how scary this is?”

  “The Merrics play the press. Through their connections, they practically own everything that’s printed.”

  “You say this, but I know nothing about the Galvantry except what’s in the paper, and the paper doesn’t look good.”

  “The Merrics are much worse,” he said. Greer ran his thumb over the top of my hand. “It’s over here.”

  A man in a red Hawaiian shirt leaned on a dune-top deck, looking down on the ocean. His hair was receding on the sides, and he had a clefted chin.

  “Before we go talk to him, I must warn you that the professor is true Galvantry.”

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t think you know what that means.” Greer stopped talking and weighed his words out carefully before saying them. “He has a vendetta against the Merrics, so let me do most of the talking.”

  “I shouldn’t come then.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  The professor didn’t acknowledge us until we were practically at his stairs.

  “Professor.”

  “Hello there.” The professor stood up straight, his thin hair picking up in the breeze off the ocean. “What brings you to the beach today, Mr.—?”

  “Let’s avoid names for the moment,” Greer interrupted and jerked his head in my direction.

  “Whatever you’d like. Greer it is,” he said.

  It was only the three of us in earshot, and Greer had signaled toward me. I had always assumed Greer was his last name. Now I wasn’t entirely sure if Greer was his name at all. The professor knew his name; it was me who was in the dark. Greer didn’t want me to know his name, and my heart deflated into mush. Perhaps it was Andrew or Christopher? Elsa called him Greer, but she said, ‘My Greer’. So he didn’t trust me with something as common as a name.

  As crushed as I was, I had to recover fast. I needed to stay on task and find out what I could about the necklace, the words, and the fortune teller.

  The professor stared at me and said in a stern, precise voice, “So we are clear, I recognize your guest.”

  “I knew you would,” Greer said. “I was wondering if we could speak.”

  “I doubt I can say no. My fiancé will be home soon, and she does not know about my proclivity towards usurpation, so we’ll need to be quick.”

  “We’re in a hurry too,” I said.

  “You better be.” The professor signaled us to follow him.

  The professor led us up three flights of outdoor steps. I assumed he was taking us to his bedroom or study, so I was surprised to see the living room and kitchen upstairs in this house.

  “Having a Merric in my house,” the man said in disgust.

  “I’m not a Merric.” This guy already hated me because of a fake family I hated too.

  He took a better look at my eyes. “The truth is plain for anyone who wishes to see it, and those contacts aren’t covering much.”

  I should have let it go, but this guy was making assumptions about me based on the Merrics. I was sure the Merrics had wronged him, but people shouldn’t make assumptions about others based on family or wealth or looks. Besides, I had just arrived on the scene and I had no intentions of ever going back to the Merrics.

  “My name is Waverly Wilson, not Merric. My parents are teachers, not royals. My grandmother is sick. We live in a small farmhouse in a different world. The Merric’s gave noth
ing to us except a little money to help with Grandma’s care.”

  “I’m sure the fine citizens of America would like to know they are paying for the witch Helena’s medical care.”

  “Witch? That’s my grandma! You don’t know her or me, and yet you stand here already hating me and not giving me a chance.”

  “Spoken like a spoiled teenager who has no comprehension of the consequences of action. The Merrics steal everything they have from anyone they see fit. I don’t know why you brought the enemy to my house, young Greer, but I can tell you she is not welcome.”

  We were getting nowhere with this guy, and with as much as he hated the Merrics I doubted he would tell me anything. “Fine, I’ll wait out on the beach.” As I walked towards the door, I saw three orbed shadows at the man’s feet.

  Greer placed his hand on my shoulder. “Please, Waverly, we need him.”

  The professor spit out the words. “Help a Merric? Are you mad? I’d rather a bullet right here in the heart. It’s dead anyway.”

  “I know how you feel about the Merrics,” Greer said.

  “Same as you, I thought.”

  “But Waverly is different. She has something to offer you that you’ve always wanted.”

  “She can bring back the dead, can she? Well, let me start with my daughter.”

  His hatred of me was making more sense. The shadows circled faster and faster, looping up the walls, onto picture frames and paintings and then back to his feet.

  “We’re wasting time.” Greer pulled the ring and necklace from his pocket and forced them into the professor’s hand. “Here.”

  “What is this?”

  “Helena’s ring and Lothaire’s necklace.”

  “If you are trying to buy me off, I don’t care for jewels.”

  “The night that Helena’s anchor died, a fortune teller visited Helena and foretold of Waverly’s arrival in this world. She told Helena that Waverly would find a cure to the Tennabris.”

  “A woman foretold?” The professor sat down in shock. “Pythia? She’s alive?”