ELEMENTS: Acquiesce

by Kathryn Andrews

  All of a sudden, the sun was no longer warming Flynn’s face and he opened his eyes to see a storm brewing; dark clouds rolled in from all directions as loud thunder rumbled and heavy rain lashed down. The wooden boat creaked as it rocked to and fro, rose up on the waves and smacked down on the ocean with a judder. Flynn was tossed around like a rag doll and clung with all his might to the edge of the boat. A gust of wind unexpectedly and violently swung the boom, striking the fisherman on the head. He fell backwards onto the deck as lightning struck the top of Bishop’s Island.

  With blood streaming down his face, Flynn scrambled to the back of the boat to pull his fish filled net to the surface. He hauled his catch onto the deck before frantically raising the anchor and turning the boat towards the sanctuary of the bay. Flynn hadn’t noticed the large egg caught inside his net. As he approached the mouth of the bay, the waves were reaching the cliff top at George’s Head. In all his years, he’d never seen waves as big as these. The sea was white with foam and it took all his strength to keep the boat away from the perilous black rocks that lay beneath the surface. The motion of the boat caused the egg to crack and the fragments of shell were washed into the sea. The mighty waves carried the fishing boat all the way to the seaweed-strewn beach where Flynn washed the blood from his face and returned to his cabin where he sheltered until the storm passed.

  When the sky had cleared and the sea was calm again, Flynn returned to the deck of the boat. He was shocked to find a baby lying quietly amongst the fish, looking back at him with nothing more than a tuft of silver grey hair upon her head. He looked around the boat to see if anyone was there but there was nobody.

  “How the blazes did a baby get on my boat?” he said to himself.

  Bewildered, Flynn wrapped the baby in a blanket and carried her in his arms to the promenade. He asked the town folk if they knew of any missing boats or shipwrecks that day which might explain why he’d found a baby lost at sea. He wanted desperately to reunite the child with her family and walked the streets speaking to everyone he met, but nobody claimed the child. The weary fisherman bought a few supplies in town, including clothes for the baby before heading back to his boat. He placed the child in a basket made of willow branches and watched her as she slept. Flynn vowed to find her family but days turned into weeks and still there was not a whisper from anyone, not in town at least.

  While the people of Kilfearagh were busy getting on with their daily lives, members of a secret sea community were frantically looking for the infant. Triton Morgan, messenger of the sea circle, son of the famous Triton and grandson of the legendary Poseidon was swimming the seven seas in search of the infant. Triton was half man, half fish with a muscular upper body, a strong tail and green hair. Rumours that an egg had fallen into the sea and mysteriously vanished were circulating the seabed. Triton Morgan knew more than anyone that this was no ordinary egg. He’d heard about the egg from Mazu and he was determined to find it, or indeed the creature inside but wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for. His vague questions had some members of the sea community doubting his sanity but Triton and Mazu knew there was a lot at stake.

  When they’d searched every inch of the seabed they made their way to the surface and began their search on land. Dressed head to toe in their Victorian finery and Triton’s green hair tucked neatly under his top hat, the pair were ready to mingle with polite society. They wandered through town, watching, listening, certain that someone must know something. The well to do people from Limerick had been in town for weeks already for their summer holidays and they were strolling along the promenade in their best clothes, men in their top hats and ladies in long dresses under which they wore layer upon layer of undergarments which made their bottoms look bigger.

  It was almost midday when Triton and Mazu stopped and chatted to a man named Jerry who was selling seafood from a basket on the promenade.

  “Top o’ the mornin’ to you,” he said with a smile, craning his neck to get a better view of Triton who towered above him.

  “How do you do?” replied Triton.

  “I’m very well, thank you Sir. It’s a beautiful day isn’t it?”

  “Indeed.”

  Mazu stood back a little and held a handkerchief to her nose, not because of the fishy smell, which she was well used to, but because the man had a strong odor of ale about him.

  “What can I get you?” asked Jerry. “Lobster? Crab? Crawfish? All caught fresh this mornin’.”

  “We’re looking for something else,” said Triton. “Something...”

  “Cooked periwinkles? You won’t find better anywhere else. Caught ‘em in the shoreline this mornin’.”

  “No, not periwinkles.”

  Jerry scratched his head. “Is it seaweed you’re after? The poppin’ kind? Some people use it for medicine.”

  “A shell. It’s a shell we’re looking for,” said Mazu.

  “An egg shell,” said Triton. “A large egg shell.”

  Jerry paused and a look of puzzlement grew upon his face as he slowly shook his head. “No. No eggshells. Have you tried the farm down the road? They have hens.”

  “It’s not a chicken egg we’re looking for,” said Mazu impatiently.

  “Did you ever find anything unusual amongst the fish?” asked Triton.

  “The odd shoe here and there. We once found a white shark washed up on the beach. ‘Twas the talk of the town for months.” Jerry scratched his head. “Come to think of it, young Flynn found a baby in his net a few weeks ago. I suppose that was a bit odd. That’s who you want to be askin’. He’s the one I get most of these fish from. No idea how she got there. Never did find her parents.”

  Triton and Mazu’s eyes widened.

  “Sounds fascinating,” said Triton.

  “You’ve been most helpful,” said Mazu.

  “I don’t suppose you could tell us where we might find Flynn?” asked Triton.

  Jerry pointed to a wooden boat docked at the pier and without hesitation, Triton and Mazu made their way along the promenade towards the boat.

  “Good day to you!” called Jerry.

  Walking towards the pier they could see a man and a young infant sitting on the deck in the sunshine.

  “It has to be the child,” said Mazu. “She must be the one.”

  “What exactly are we looking for?” whispered Triton, stopping to peer through a pair of binoculars.

  “It’s hard to say,” replied Mazu. “Something different I suppose.”

  “I’d say her hair’s fairly different from other girls her age.”

  “What’s her hair got to do with it?!” snapped Mazu, snatching the binoculars. “When did the colour of someone’s hair make them dangerous? Look at your hair. Bright green! People would die from fright just looking at the colour of your hair.”

  Triton adjusted his hat to make sure there were no loose strands on show. “Aside from the hair she seems quite normal looking to me. A pretty little thing.”

  “But what is she? Is she one of them or one of us?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “Wait!” ordered Mazu. “What if she’s one of them? What do we do?”

  Triton was already striding along the pier with his cane and as he got closer he heard Flynn talking to the child.

  “I suppose we’ll give you a name will we?” he said, holding her in his arms. “I think Cordelia would suit you.” The child’s piercing blue eyes gazed back at him and she smiled. “That’s it,” he continued, “we’ll call you Cordelia, daughter of the sea.” Then he placed a delicate necklace around her neck with a single pearl that had belonged to his wife.

  Triton paused.

  “Well?” asked Mazu, “What should we do?”

  “Nothing. Not yet.” He turned on his heel and walked away, followed closely by Mazu.

  “Nothing?” asked Mazu. “Do you think she’s the one?”

  “I’m certain of it.”

  “And you want to do nothing?”


  “Are you ready to raise a child Mazu? She has someone to take care of her and we don’t know enough about her so we’ll wait.”

  “How do we know she won’t kill him?”

  “We don’t. Only time will tell.”

  As time passed, Cordelia grew into the most beautiful child Flynn had ever seen and all the while, Triton and Mazu watched closely. She looked like an angel and her silver grey hair always shimmered in the moonlight. Of course, Flynn thought it unusual for a child to have grey hair but it suited her and there was nothing he could do about it so he let it be. He’d taught Cordelia how to swim from a young age, which she loved. She swam with such grace and it didn’t matter what time of year it was, Cordelia was in the sea every day; unlike Flynn, she didn’t seem to feel the cold. Since there was no school for girls in Kilfearagh at that time, Cordelia spent her days helping Flynn on the boat, clambering across the rocks and exploring caves and in the evenings he’d teach her how to read, write and pray. Though Flynn hadn’t attended church since the loss of his wife, praying was his one hope of salvation.

  Flynn often told stories about his own childhood, his family and the day he’d found Cordelia in his fishing net. She loved hearing that story and how the storm had set in while he was fishing near the islands. Cordelia desperately wanted to see the islands but having experienced first-hand how dangerous it could be there, Flynn chose to stay away. He had responsibilities now and having been given what he believed to be a second chance at fatherhood, he wanted to keep her safe.

  Although they had fun, life on the boat hadn’t been easy. They’d struggled through the great hunger - few areas had been as severely affected as the west coast. People had died from starvation, not from a lack of food but from a lack of money to pay for it. Potato farming had been the main source of income for most people in this remote town and without a decent crop, they were barely able to eek out a living. Most families didn’t have enough money to pay the rent, let alone eat. Many fled the land in search of a new life in America. The population had dropped, houses stood empty and life was bleak. A feeling of impending doom spread amongst the town and in February of 1852, a wretched storm ripped through Kilfearagh without warning.

  It was early evening as Flynn prepared supper on the boat. All things considered, it had been a relatively normal day. There had been nothing to suggest that such destruction was on the way. If anything, the weather had been rather mild for the time of year, but as the sun faded and the sky turned black, Flynn noticed a sudden drop in temperature. That’s when everything changed.

  THREE

  Acquiesce

  Cordelia lay on her side, gazing at the gemstones on her bedside table, wondering how they were possible. It occurred to her that she was no longer crying. The tears had stopped. She needed to get out, she needed answers. She also needed to see something other than the curved walls of her chamber. In the absence of her tears, cheering and laughter echoed in the tunnel outside. She splashed water on her face from the wooden barrel. It was salty. The voices were coming from the right, which led downhill, further away from the lighthouse. As Cordelia walked slowly along the tunnel the voices became clearer. She felt the sea breeze rushing past her as waves crashed against the rocks. The tunnel led to an opening in the cliff wall. Cordelia watched from inside as a group of teenagers about her age sat on the rocks watching a diving competition. It looked fun, if not a little dangerous. She spotted a man with green hair on the rocks lower down and an old woman with white hair. They turned and whispered to each other when they noticed Cordelia. Not knowing who they were, Cordelia retreated to her chamber.

  Cordelia was filled with all kinds of emotions; excited about what she saw, nervous because she didn’t know them, guilty for wanting to be part of something that didn’t involve Flynn. Before she had too much time to think, Mazu knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” said Cordelia.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Cordelia shrugged.

  “Did you see the diving competition?”

  Cordelia nodded.

  “Did you like the look of it?”

  Cordelia nodded again.

  “The rocks they were sitting on, we call that the amphitheatre.”

  “Who was the man with green hair?”

  “That would be Triton Morgan. He’s the one who found you on the seabed the night of the storm.”

  Cordelia felt bad for retreating back to her chamber but she wasn’t to know who he was. “What is he?”

  Mazu smiled. “He’s a merman.”

  Cordelia felt a lump in her throat. “A merman?”

  “Yes, a great one too. He comes from merfolk aristocracy and is just as famous as his father.”

  “Famous?”

  “Amongst the sea community he is.”

  “And the lady with white hair?”

  “That’s Morwen Vanora, one of the elders.”

  “Tell me about these,” said Cordelia, picking up a gemstone.

  “You cry the tears of mermaids,” explained Mazu. “When a mermaid’s heart is broken her tears turn to aquamarine, a gemstone cherished by merfolk. Keep them safe. You never know when you might need them.”

  “How can I have the tears of mermaids? I’m an ordinary girl who grew up on a fishing boat.”

  “My dear child, you are far from ordinary.”

  “I know nothing about mermaids. I wish I’d drowned with Flynn.”

  “Impossible,” said Mazu. “Mermaids cannot drown.”

  Cordelia wasn’t sure what to believe.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” said Mazu. “Flynn was a good man.”

  “How do you know?” asked Cordelia. “You didn’t know him.”

  “I know more than you think. We live here in the caves when we’re not at sea. It’s a closely guarded secret mind. Apparently we’re mythological; we don’t exist. If the town folk found out about us we’d all end up in a fish tank in Dublin.”

  “You don’t look like a mermaid, and neither do I.”

  “You’ve a lot to learn Cordelia.”

  “I didn’t see any tails at the amphitheatre.”

  “As I said, you’ve a lot to learn about merfolk. Do you want to learn?”

  Cordelia nodded.

  “Good. You can join in with classes tomorrow. How old are you now Cordelia?”

  “Fifteen. I’ll be sixteen in May.”

  “The students in your class started lessons when they were eleven so you’ll have some catching up to do.”

  “Were all the students at the amphitheatre mermaids?”

  “Merfolk Cordelia. Only the girls are mermaids.”

  Cordelia’s eyes widened.

  “Are you ready to brave the town?”

  “I don’t know, why?”

  “We need to buy you some clothes. You’ll need more than what you’re wearing. No need to worry about the cost. What do you say?”

  Cordelia smiled and nodded.

  They travelled into town by horse and cart, taking two of the horses that grazed by the lighthouse. The weather was dry with clear skies and there was a crisp chill in the air but neither of them felt the cold. They rode next to the sea wall as they entered the town and Cordelia’s eyes glazed over as they had done the last time she was there. She gazed across the bay. The debris had been cleared and the only sign that a storm had been were the few homes without roofs whose owners had long gone to America. Cordelia kept her eyes peeled, hoping that she might see Flynn.

  There was no mistaking the girl with grey hair. The locals recognised her from the times she and Flynn had delivered fish in town and as she and Mazu rode past, they stopped their conversations and stared. News travelled fast in Kilfearagh and they knew the fisherman had been lost at sea. Cordelia sat silently and the horse’s hooves echoed inside her head as a single tear rolled down her cheek and turned to aquamarine. Mazu stopped the horses in Albert Road. Although Cordelia had lived in this town all her life, it was the first time she had entered th
e shops. They made their way to a tiny little shop that sold lace, linen and ladies clothes. A brass bell rang above their heads as they opened the door into the long, narrow space. It was poorly lit with a dark wooden floor and a wooden counter, which stretched the length of the room. A mixture of must and lavender filled the air and behind the counter stood an old lady with grey hair rolled into a fancy up do. She had a button nose and her eyes twinkled when she smiled. There were clothes hanging on a rail high up on one side of the room and others were neatly folded on shelves behind the counter. Cordelia glanced around the room not knowing what to look at first.

  “Can I help you?” asked the old woman.

  “We’re here to buy a whole new wardrobe,” said Mazu as she opened a velvet purse and tipped its contents onto the counter. Elated, the old lady quickly scooped the jewels off the counter and put them safely in her till. Mazu had met the old woman when she and Triton first entered Kilfearagh looking for Cordelia all those years before. She’d stepped into the shop to buy a new dress and paid for it with a single red stone, which the old lady used to buy a horse and cart for her son.

  “Is it for yourself or the young lady?”

  The old woman hadn’t recognised Cordelia. She’d never met her but you’d think with all those customers in and out all day she’d have heard about the girl with grey hair. Perhaps it was the dim lighting that made it hard to tell what colour her hair was. Perhaps her eyesight was failing.

  “It’s all for Cordelia,” smiled Mazu and she slowly made her way along the rail of clothes, picking out items as she went. “She’ll need dresses and nighties, skirts and blouses, a jacket or two, and underwear of course.”