Midnight Law

by Geanna Culbertson

  “Grab your whiteboard, Blue,” he said. “I’ll pause the movie and explain things as we go, but you’re probably going to have questions. A lot has changed since the nineties in terms of technology.”

  I thought that the Book of Speech Spells had a lot of information. I thought the libraries at school had a lot of information. But the fourth Die Hard movie, Live Free or Die Hard, had A LOT of information.

  Though I was impressed with Book’s new compact mirror technology, my mind was blown by Earth’s developments of computers, cell phones, and more. I was also glad Bruce Willis, despite being older, still kept it tight and feisty. Dude knew how to beat up a bad guy, and I loved that.

  When the movie was over, and my brain swirled with the sounds of explosions and the music of Creedence Clearwater Revival, I decided to take that walk on the beach that Michael had recommended. I slung my backpack over my shoulders and headed out.

  Sand squished beneath my boots. The waves against the shore were good contrast to the song stuck in my mind from the end of the movie. I couldn’t stop humming it in my head. A plane whirred overhead, making another fascinating noise.

  All of a sudden Jason appeared by my side. He gave a smile and a wave. I smiled back. We continued strolling together until we came to a beautiful spot where the sun hit the water in such a way that the ocean glowed like it was bathed in magic. I stopped and stared in wonder. Jason on the other hand moved farther up the beach and began dragging his foot in the sand, carving lines to form the word: “Hi”.

  I grinned and dragged my foot through the sand as well. “Hi”.

  He laughed soundlessly. Then his eyes lit up with an idea.

  He grabbed a stick and proceeded to write his name in the sand. Below that, he wrote “WERE HERE” in big capital letters. Then he added a plus sign after his name and offered me the stick. I gave him a look, but then accepted the stick and wrote my name in the sand. We stepped back to read it together.

  JASON + BLUE

  WERE HERE

  Jason turned and sat down on the sand, staring out at the water lapping the shore. He didn’t invite me to join him, but I did by my own volition. He didn’t acknowledge when I sat down. I scooted a bit closer so he would look my way. Finally he did. The light on the ocean reflected in his blue eyes. He was, in his own way, as breathtaking as the sea. And he filled me with more warmth than the sun ever could.

  Was I selfish for putting myself first and not giving us a chance? Was Lonna right about being able to have it all? Or was he and our potential relationship just weaknesses and temptations—the kind of thoughts that got strong girls in trouble?

  I didn’t know. I could only look into his eyes for a few more seconds before my fear of the answers made me turn away toward the seemingly infinite horizon.

  “Mermaid hair has special properties,” Ashlyn explained.

  She and her family had returned from fishing in the late afternoon. Donnie needed to take a business call in the house, but the rest of us were settled on the deck of The Seabeagle—parked next to the dock—with Lonna bobbing in the water alongside us.

  I’d shown Ashlyn the old story in the Book of Speech Spells and it turns out she and Lonna were familiar with it.

  “Mermaids place great value on long hair as part of our culture,” Ashlyn continued. “For females of our kind, it’s associated with nobility, beauty, and connection with the sea. According to legend, if a mermaid sacrifices her hair—thereby sacrificing a part of her soul—she can reap the soul energy of another with the blade she used. That blade would then become enchanted and can restore life to someone else.”

  “What about regular haircuts?” I wrote on my whiteboard.

  Tina Louise huffed, amused.

  “Once a mermaid’s hair reaches its ideal length, it stops growing,” Ashlyn replied. “If you cut it off, it will never grow back. I’ve had this exact hair length since I was a child. My girls are the same.”

  Jason held up our second whiteboard. “What about mermen?”

  “This doesn’t apply to them,” Lonna responded from below. “It’s a girl thing.”

  I scribbled on my whiteboard. “Sexist?”

  Arabeth shrugged. “I don’t know. Take it for what you will. I’m majorly into girl power, but not everything that’s different between men and women is sexist. Sometimes things just are. You can be a strong, empowered female without needing to bitch and moan about everything.”

  “Arabeth!” Ashlyn warned. “Language. Book does not have many bad words, and I would prefer if our protagonist friends did not take any new ones back with them.”

  “Sorry,” Arabeth said.

  “Humilde has short hair,” Lonna pondered out loud. “I wonder if that’s a part of her genetic mutation? Maybe she can’t grow it out.”

  “Maybe,” Ashlyn said. “Her mother had short hair too. So it is a fair guess that this is also a part of their unique genetic makeup, in addition to their tentacle mutation and the lack of a voice. A combination of all three traits would make achieving acceptance in Mer society next to impossible.”

  Even though she was mostly submerged, I could see Lonna’s shoulders slump. “I’m beginning to feel really bad for Humilde. Her mom is known for all that Sea Witch nastiness with regard to the Little Mermaid, but it seems like she and Humilde never stood a chance.”

  Girtha gestured for Jason’s whiteboard. We waited as she wrote. Then she held up her response. “Maybe no one stood by them.”

  Our group sat in silence, the boat bobbing lightly up and down on the water. I agreed with Girtha’s perspective. Confidence was often a two-sided coin. You needed to generate confidence for yourself—owning who you are without constantly seeking outside approval. Create and foster self-love, as it were. But if no one ever showed you the same kind of love—returned the acceptance—then things could get lonely and it was natural that your self-esteem would disintegrate over time. A person didn’t need the acceptance of others to have self-worth, but having it in addition to self-love could make you strong, no matter how different you were.

  I was there when Crisa told Girtha that if she wanted our classmates to accept her and move past her reputation as a bully, she had to earn it herself by changing—doing the work on her own. Girtha had heeded that advice and done that. In return, she’d made friends who mirrored the acceptance that Girtha had finally given to herself.

  The same thing went for Chance. I wasn’t a witness to Crisa’s exchanges with him, but I knew she had told him to change for himself first and only then could acceptance of others (herself included) follow. He’d really been trying to do that. It didn’t make up for his stupidity, which had gotten Crisa trapped in Dreamland, but I had to admit it was impressive how he’d gone from being a stuck-up pariah to an integral member of our group.

  It was admirable the way both he and Girtha had changed. Unfortunately for them, these nice sentiments disintegrated in the face of the mistakes they made and the blame I found comfort putting squarely on their shoulders.

  Overall, my feelings toward the pair were very much like the tide below us—pushing me one way then pulling back in the other direction. Because as much as Chance and Girtha had improved, I wondered if we would’ve been better off if they’d never changed and become a part of our team. Maybe we wouldn’t be here now . . .

  Chance gestured for my whiteboard. I sort of drew back, my body tensing naturally to interacting with him, but I resigned and passed over the board. He wrote and held it up, angled so Girtha could see the message clearly.

  “Humilde hasn’t learned what you and I have.”

  Arabeth tilted her head. “I don’t get it.”

  Ashlyn glanced at Girtha’s face. “I think she does.”

  A small flash of blue light caught the corner of my eye. I glanced toward where it had come from—Tina Louise—but the light was gone. All I noticed now was a fresh cut on her bicep that bled a single drop of blood. I didn’t get a chance to ask about it as the conversat
ion shifted.

  “Do you think . . .” Lonna paused and bit her lip. “Do you think that if Humilde felt accepted by Mer people, she’d stop trying to seek vengeance and drop this whole voice-stealing Sea Witch persona? Or is that super naive and optimistic?”

  “I think it is super naive and optimistic,” Ashlyn said. “But that does not mean it cannot also be right.” She sighed sadly. “My mother was a generous, warm person with a heart full of more hopefulness than anyone I have ever known. But when she told me her fairytale, even she expressed doubts about how fairly the Sea Witch was treated in the end. Yes, the woman was cruel—much more so than your Humilde sounds—and had made plenty of deals over the years that cost Mer people their lives as well as their voices. However, at the end of the day, my mother chose by her own free will to make a deal with the Sea Witch. My mother dove in headfirst, as was her spirit when she was young, which I can relate to.”

  “But didn’t the Sea Witch interfere with your mother’s pursuit of her prince, which would’ve returned her voice?” Lonna asked.

  “Yes, but the Sea Witch also never said that she wouldn’t. My mother should have paid attention to the fine print in her contract. Is what happened next—my mother nearly dying of a broken heart, the Sea Witch being fossilized, and so forth—my mother’s fault, or the Sea Witch’s? It depends on your perspective. There are two sides to every story, and villains are not always as blatant and evil as we would like to think.”

  Lonna didn’t say anything. Glancing over the side of the boat, I saw her pensively looking at the movements of the water. I knew from even our brief association that the mermaid was a lot deeper than people may give her credit for. At first meeting she came across ditzy, vapid, and flighty—but impressions of a person weren’t about first meetings; they were about a feeling. Everything that came next built from that. Our conversations and her caring had opened my eyes. She had the soul of a hero. I felt certain of it. And like any hero, her brain was trying to solve a problem in a way that would maximize good consequences and minimize bad ones.

  “When you all return to Book, I know you won’t have long to make a decision before Humilde’s deadline,” Tina Louise said slowly. “However, what people truly want and what they ask for can often be different things. Maybe there is something else you can give Humilde that will bring this to a better conclusion. Fighting is natural for heroes, as is picking out villains; that’s a part of your design. But maybe that’s not enough to make this story end correctly?”

  Chance wrote on his whiteboard and held it up for us to see. The sentence was underlined. The last word was doubly emphasized.

  “Sometimes the right ending to a story requires patience.”

  The setting sun bled through the window, oozing all over the living room floor.

  After dinner at the Inero house, we’d gone our separate ways. I wanted to read the Book of Speech Spells, but Girtha claimed dibs on it at dinner. As I didn’t want to spend any buddy-buddy time with Girtha, I agreed to let her have it and take my own turn with the book in a couple of hours. In the meantime, I was nosing around the family’s movie collection.

  I idly looked over shelves lined with the DVDs—shiny discs significantly smaller than the VHS tapes we’d watched the last time I’d been here—when Tina Louise entered.

  “Considering watching something that doesn’t star Bruce Willis?”

  Is there even a point to that?

  “Is there even a point to that?” Tina Louise said.

  I pivoted in surprise right as a blue aura faded around Tina Louise. A fresh cut appeared on her arm beside several new, thin scrapes.

  “My mom says that her mom is an empath—she can read feelings,” Tina Louise said, casually going for a box of tissues to dab her arm. “I’m a telepath—I can read thoughts. Using my power on Earth hurts, but like all magic wielders I have to use magic occasionally or it builds up and causes much more painful side effects. I am due for a little magic expulsion, so I’ve been using it on you guys.”

  I opened my mouth, remembered I couldn’t speak, then looked around for the whiteboard. Tina Louise anticipated my question.

  “I didn’t mention it before because it takes a lot of concentration and I can only connect with one person at a time for short bursts,” she explained. “I wouldn’t have been able to read everyone’s thoughts in a group conversation. Plus, some of the thoughts I’ve heard today were kind of private. I’m only intervening now because I saw a need to.”

  I lifted an eyebrow.

  “I heard your thoughts on the boat this afternoon. It doesn’t take an empath or a telepath to notice your body language when you’re with Girtha and Chance. But your thoughts in reaction to what Girtha said about no one ever standing by Humilde were moving. Even though you are clearly mad at Girtha and Chance, I think it would be a good idea to put aside your issues with them. A few minutes ago, I spoke with Chance using my powers. He has an idea for what to do about Humilde, but I think he would feel more confident in that plan if you would back him. Or at least be open to hearing him out. It’s a bit . . . crazy. But I think it has a shot.”

  I crossed my arms and looked to the floor.

  “There’s a stigma with sequels,” Tina Louise said, approaching the DVD shelves. “Just like there’s a stigma about the children of powerful or important people. We never expect them to be as stellar as the originals. That’s not always right, but maybe in the case of villains that can be true in a good way. Perhaps hereditary wickedness is like soda with ice. It gets watered down over time. Maybe Humilde can change and be different than what came before her.”

  I didn’t like the idea of cutting Chance or Girtha any slack. However, I took a deep breath and tried to channel the calm reasoning that SJ so often employed. Her logical approach to problem solving wasn’t best in every situation, but I’d evolved enough as a person to know that my combative approach wasn’t always the answer either. Both peace-oriented logic and fiery aggression could be effective. It was like using a sword vs. a knife in a fight—both weapons were strong, but which would win in a duel depended on other factors, like range and how much damage you were willing to inflict and incur.

  While it went against all my natural instincts, I knew that my weapon of choice was not what the situation called for here. So long as we were on this quest, I had to try and support Chance and Girtha, even if it meant I couldn’t forgive them. Emphasis on try, of course. Anyone could play nice for a while. I’d rein in my aggression for this Mer quest, but I didn’t know if it would hold for the entirety of our Midnight Law journey.

  I glanced at Tina Louise then tilted my chin toward the door. She got what I was asking.

  “Girtha and Chance are in the kitchen. Why don’t we gather the gang on the boat one more time before the sun goes down? What he’s suggesting needs to be agreed upon by everyone. It’s a fate-altering decision.”

  I huffed in amusement. So it’s a normal weekday then.

  Then I frowned.

  I’m going to be glad to have my voice back. My sarcasm is so much more satisfying when I say these gems out loud.

  “Chance thinks you should offer to resurrect Humilde’s mother,” Tina Louise stated. The sun was falling fast on the horizon. Lonna’s blonde hair looked darker as the waters surrounding The Seabeagle absorbed nightfall.

  “He says it’s like the people he turns to gold,” Tina Louise continued. “If the Sea Witch was fossilized by King Tyron’s powers, her life force is likely still active and is only imprisoned in the coral and rock. Given that, maybe she can be revived with the right spark of magic, like how Crisa once gave life back to a dormant dragon statue in your capital city. Why not try the same thing here?”

  Both Jason and I scribbled furiously on the whiteboards.

  Jason’s said, “Crisa isn’t here.”

  Mine read, “Humilde’s mother could kill us all.”

  Tina Louise ceased to glow and a bruise appeared on her arm. “Sustaining my power is
getting too difficult to keep up, but the last thing Chance wanted me to convey was that you should offer Humilde this resurrection in exchange for the Midnight Law flame instead of what she asked for. You can make some kind of deal that you’ll bring Crisa back to Mer once you save her, and then she can revive Humilde’s mother with her powers.”

  I pointed at my board again and shook it for emphasis.

  Ashlyn’s kids and her husband turned to her. My teammates and I did the same. The boat rocked and the smell of saltwater seemed to be getting stronger. Ashlyn took a deep breath.

  “Humilde’s mother is very dangerous. Her Mer power was the ability to change the size of any undersea creature, herself included.”

  “Humilde has that same power,” Lonna commented.

  “But her mother is older and therefore has had a lifetime to let bitterness and resentment turn her wicked,” Ashlyn continued. “Being fossilized for so many years certainly won’t improve her opinion of Mer people if she were to wake again. But . . . I stand by what I said. She was never truly evil; she was an outcast that stood in the way of my mother’s happily ever after and used her business dealings to take advantage of my mother’s naivety and impulsive nature. Offering to bring the Sea Witch back to life could be enough motivation for Humilde to give you the flame. It shows your good faith and offers the promise of Humilde not being alone anymore.”

  “I’ll help with that promise,” Lonna asserted from below. “Humilde’s royal family may have snubbed her and her mother, but I’ll offer them a place with mine. My family is pretty kind and accepting. And I am heir to the throne. If I back Humilde and her mother, perhaps the rest of our kingdom will come to accept them and their resentment and bitterness will fade in time. It’s hard to hate people who welcome you into their home, right?”

  I noticed Girtha’s expression. She seemed doubtful. I wondered what she was thinking. She was still holding the Book of Speech Spells in her arms.