She kissed both of my cheeks. "And you, Mira. I hope your land-cycle produces a daughter and that she fills your heart. Perhaps the next time I see you, I shall meet her."
I watched her stride into the surf, almost disappearing into the darkness of the night. She walked until the water swept up over her head and was gone, leaving no more than a tiny ripple. I stood there a moment longer, watching the dark water ebb and flow, feeling the salt caress my feet. I turned and walked back to the party and back to Nathan.
42
After we'd been taken back to The Red Star, tipsy and drowsy, and said good-night to Garrett and Anna, Nathan pulled me close against him and whispered. "I know where the best place on the ship is."
I had nearly forgotten about the sailor who'd told us about it on the first day. I turned to him, my curiosity aroused. "Where?"
"We might get into trouble," he warned me.
I smiled. "I think we can handle it." I had lived my life on the edge of trouble.
Nathan took my hand and we walked casually toward the stern, Nathan glanced around for staff. A few people milled about, heading for their cabins or standing and chatting on the moonlit deck. Nathan and I leaned on the railing and waited until the coast was clear. We hopped over a rope cordoning off a short and narrow staircase.
"This is where the crew parties," Nathan whispered.
Voices carried over the wind as people passed by not far from us on the deck. "Come here," Nathan pulled me in front of him and lifted me up onto the roof over the steps leading down into the hold. The huge boom creaked over head. "Climb up on the boom."
I hopped up and discovered a nest of canvas where the sail had been tied down. A cradle had been made in the canvas, up against the rear mast and I crawled into it. Nathan hopped up after me.
"Cool, huh?"
"Very cool," I whispered. Nathan crawled behind me and sat leaning against the mast. He pulled me back against his chest and I leaned back into his warmth. The canvas piled up on either side of us made blinders to block out everything except the black sky, which was peppered with bright stars. We leaned back and looked up, watching the stars sway as the ship rocked back and forth. I sighed happily. We cuddled and stargazed, listening to the water and feeling each other breathe.
"I found something interesting in the sand, I'll have to show it to you," I said.
"Yeah? What is it?"
I described the artifact to him as best I could. "It might be worth something."
Nathan chuckled and kissed my temple. "Don't get your hopes up, Mir. It sounds like random junk to me."
I shrugged. I knew the color of real silver. "Maybe. Maybe not."
"Maybe we should get something nice to bring home for your dad."
"That's a good idea," I said. "And Crystal."
"For sure," Nathan said, his voice drowsy. "I think she'd like a captain's hat."
I laughed. She would. Nathan knew her well.
"Mir," Nathan said.
"Yeah?"
"We're going to let your dad be a grandpa to our kids, right?"
I blinked at the unexpected question. If my father was planning on living in Saltford for good, then this was a possibility. I thought about what Aris had said about why my father's memories were coming back.
"Mir?"
I cleared my throat. "Yeah. Yes, of course he can be grandpa." I said.
He nuzzled into my neck. "Good."
We stared up at the stars a while longer. Nathan thinking his thoughts, and me thinking mine: that I sure hoped Aris wasn't wrong.
43
I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, pressing my head back into the headrest. Maybe my reaction to the first plane ride had been a fluke?
"Mira, hon are you okay?"
I turned my head toward Nathan and forced a smile and a nod. He put a warm palm over my white knuckles.
"What's wrong?"
Dang. Was I that bad of an actress? "Nothing," I said through a tight jaw. "Just not loving the whole flying thing."
He put a hand to my forehead. "You look ill. As soon as the plane levels off, put your seat back and try to sleep, okay?"
I nodded. As the plane climbed, the pressure pulling down on me increased. My vertebrae creaked. My ears squeaked the way they did when I was descending into the depths of the ocean, only they didn't relieve any of the pressure. Both ears popped and I winced.
"Shall I see if one of the crew has something you can take?" Nathan reached his hand toward the call button.
I blew out a breath. "No. Thanks, love." I'd never ever taken a pill. I didn't know what synthetic substances built for and tested on humans might do to me. Maybe they would help, but I was too scared to take the chance. "I'll just try to sleep."
"Here's a pillow. Prop it on my shoulder if you want. And here's some water." Nathan pulled a water bottle out of his seat pocket and stuck it in mine.
The pressure increased and led to nausea and a bone-deep exhaustion. I let my eyes close and focused on breathing. I did sleep, but it was a strange uncomfortable slumber haunted by dreams of dense, amorphous blobs hanging from my every joint.
When we arrived in Houston to change planes, I made a beeline for the bathroom, my stomach churning. I sat on the edge of the toilet taking deep breaths and feeling my strength slowly returning. When I looked in the mirror I was the same color I often took on when swimming through kelp forests - green. I splashed water on my face and braced my hands on the counter, dreading the next flight.
"Airsick?"
My eyes took a moment to focus on the teen with long yellow hair washing her hands next to me.
"Think so," I said.
"Here." She fished in her pocket and pulled out a nearly empty pack of gum and handed it to me. "Chew this for your ears. And get a bottle of ginger-ale on the plane. It's the only thing that keeps me from spewing chunks."
"Thanks," I tucked the gum into my hoodie pocket.
As Nathan and I buckled our seat-belts on the next plane, preparing for take-off, I popped a piece in my mouth.
"You don't chew gum," Nathan said as he tucked the bottle of soda we'd purchased at the terminal into the seat pocket in front of me.
"Girl in the bathroom said it would help," I replied around the gob in my mouth.
It didn't.
44
Nathan's arm snaked around my ribcage and he pulled me back against his warm chest. I smiled and made a noise of pleasure. I never wanted to leave this flannel and down cocoon we'd made, finally at home in our own bed. Nathan gave a deep sigh and kissed behind my ear. "Nice to be home," he croaked in a sleepy voice. He squeezed me tight.
"Lets never leave," I said.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Nathan and I jerked with surprise at the sound of pounding on his front door.
"Go away," I mumbled, pulling a pillow over my ear.
Nathan rolled toward his bedside table. "It's six-thirty, Mir."
"In the morning?"
"At night," Nathan laughed. "We're all screwed up."
Bang. Bang. Bang. More urgent this time.
Nathan got out of bed and padded to the door in plaid pajama pants. He grabbed a t-shirt from the armchair in the corner and pulled it on. I threw the covers off and followed him down the stairs in my nightshirt. The front door was at the bottom of the stairs. I recognized the shape behind the frosted glass window.
"That's Crystal," I said, as Nathan unlocked the door.
She stood on our frosty porch, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her breath hung in a cloud in front of her face. A wet sloppy snow plopped onto the ground behind her. The fading sunlight slanted across the street and the snow caught the light.
"Snow!" Nathan said. "We should have stayed in Costa Rica. We haven't had snow in May in a decade."
Crystal gave a tight smile. "Sorry, guys. Helluva welcome home, I know. I'd ask you how your trip was an' all, but," her eyes tracked from Nathan's to mine. "It's Hal. Can you come?"
45
"When Phil refused to serve him a drink, he went behind the bar and helped himself to a bottle of Jack when none of us was lookin'. I should have realized when he moved from the bar to a booth, claimin' he wanted to eat alone. He ordered a burger but didn't touch it." Crystal was striding across the parking lot towards the Sea Dog, her legs moving almost as fast as she was talking.
"There's his truck," Nathan said, pointing to the old red flat bed. "He won't be driving that home."
Crystal continued as though Nathan hadn't spoken. "Took me an hour to put two and two together, and by then nearly half the bottle was gone..."
I felt the blood drain from my face and the edges of my vision fuzzed.
"No," Nathan hissed. "You let him drink half a bottle of whiskey?"
Crystal turned on him, her eyes flashing. "I didn't let him. Don't blame this on me. He's a crafty bastard, all addicts are."
Nathan gave her a look. I broke into a sprint and he thundered after me.
"It's full of customers," Crystal yelled behind us. "Don't make a scene!"
I flew up the gangplank and barreled through the door. The restaurant was jammed with people, elbow to elbow. A waitress I didn't recognize carried a tray of steaming plates from the kitchen. She looked up and saw Crystal and I read her lips saying 'Thank God'. I scanned the faces in the main dining area. No Hal.
"She said booth," Nathan said. We squeezed between the tables toward the alcoves.
"He's not here," I said, seeing nothing but families jammed in every booth. Worry fluttered in my stomach.
"He left, Mira." I turned to see Phil wiping his hands on a towel. Sweat beaded his brow and his face was flushed. "I took his keys and tried to call him a cab but he slipped out without saying good-bye. I couldn't keep track of him in all this busyness." He put his hands out. "I'm sorry. I went out and called for him. He'd just vanished."
"Any idea where he went?" Nathan asked.
Phil shook his head. "Hopefully, he just decided to walk home."
I felt a little better. At least he was still in good enough shape to walk. "How long?" I asked.
"Twenty minutes. Try the harbor, maybe?"
Nathan and I turned and snaked our way to the door. Crystal was at the entrance, her hand on the door. "Well?"
"Gone," I said.
The three of us left the restaurant and stood on the dock. I scanned the ground but there wasn't enough snow for footprints and the sleet was melting away as it struck the ground.
"He's on foot, and he's only been gone ten minutes. Lets split up," Nathan said. I'll walk towards his apartment, I know where it is. Mira you take the south boardwalk. Crys, you take the north? Whoever finds him, just call."
We went our separate ways. The boardwalk extended for a long way in both directions up and down the coastline. It was interrupted in places for parking lots, parks, some private waterfront properties and a handful of boating clubs. I began to jog, scanning the boardwalk railing and benches for Hal's stooped shape. Wind blew the snow toward me and it made my face and clothing wet and cold. Nervous energy was building in my limbs.
My phone rang. I stopped running and let out a breath. That hadn't taken long. I pulled out my phone and looked at the number. It wasn't Nathan or Crystal, it was Hal.
"Dad?" I put my head down against the wet snow and wind.
"They aren't dreams," he said in a throaty voice I barely recognized.
My head snapped up. "Where are you?"
"Tell me the truth, Mir. So help me..."
"Tell me where you are."
"You can't see me?" He breathed heavily into the phone. "I can see you."
I spun in a circle, my eyes roaming the boardwalk, the rough waves tossing along the rocks, the street running parallel to the boardwalk. A truck drove by, its headlights sending two beams out into the snow.
"Down here, daughter."
The only down was over the railing. I stepped close to the handrail and peered over it and into the rocky shoreline. Snow plopped on the tops of rocks while water licked up between the boulders, and washed away the white. My eyes followed the boulders beyond the circles of light provided by the street lamps. My eyes sharpened on a dark strip of boulders jutting out into the water. A moving shape. My father stood on a boulder at the very end of a dyke. He held up a hand in greeting.
I hung up the phone and opened messenger. I pounded out a text to Nathan and Crystal to let them know I found him and where we were. I put the phone in my pocket, climbed over the railing and down onto the stones. I ran along the tops of the boulders toward the dyke and then out into the water where Hal stood. In the dying light, he looked even more haggard than normal. Dark bags circled his eyes and his cheeks looked sharp and hollow in the dim light.
"You've been drinking," I said, stopping at the boulder next to his. "Where's the whiskey?"
"I left it at the pub, believe it or not. I need something stronger."
"No you don't, Dad." My heart ached at the look on his tortured face.
"You're right, I need you to tell me the truth."
"Tell me what you think you remember."
"I don't think!" he yelled, spittle flew from his mouth. "I know."
"Okay, Dad. I'm sorry," I kept my voice calm. My siren sound had begun to swell in my chest when he raised his voice, but I suppressed it. I wanted to know what he remembered, what to say to him. The waves hit the bottom of the boulder and sent spray up around us. "Why don't we go home and talk?"
He shook his head. "We're staying right here." He took a step closer to the edge of the boulder. His intention suddenly became clear to me.
"Dad," my eyes widened. "Please, don't do anything reckless."
"Why not? You won't let your old man drown."
I waited. His foolishness wasn't evident to him. I didn't need to transform into a mermaid to save him if he jumped into these waters. They weren't deep. He'd also die of hypothermia long before he drowned.
"What did you see, Dad?" I coaxed.
For a long time, he didn't speak. Then, "You were just little. So little. We were camping." His voice slurred a little, and he swayed on his feet.
I knew instantly what he was talking about. My first transformation had happened during a camping trip. The only camping trip we'd ever taken.
"Trina's laughter woke me." He brushed an arm across his face. "But I woke up alone. The trailer was empty, and you were both gone. I followed the sound to a bluff overlooking the lake." He spoke in slow motion, his consonants soft. "That strange, salty lake."
"Lake Manitou," I said.
"I forgot the name." A wave crashed into the rocks and sprayed up behind him, splattering us both with cold Atlantic water. He looked faraway, focused on nothing. "I saw Trina in the moonlight. I saw..." His focus sharpened and he looked at my face. "A tail, just like a fish. I couldn't believe my eyes. And you were there, like it was the most regular thing in the world." He drew a ragged breath. "I ran, thinking I was having a bad dream. I ran back to the trailer and made myself a drink."
"And after Mom tucked me in for the night, you two went for a walk." I remembered the night well. After all, it was the night of my re-birth. But I hadn't known that Hal had been watching from the bluff.
He nodded. "Trina told me I never woke up, never saw anything. And that's what I thought for the rest of my life. Until now. It's all come back to me. The truth. What your mother did. What she said. How she duped me." He held up a finger and swayed again. "Duped."
"She did it to protect you, Dad," I said.
"You knew about Trina, what she was," he accused.
"Dad, I am what Trina was," I said, softly. "I can't help what I was born as."
He shook his head. "No," he grated.
The sound of truck tires crunching on snow made me turn. A work truck was headed our way, slowing as it approached the dyke.
"Nathan," I whispered.
Hal knocked into me as he stepped passed me. I grabbed his arm and he spun back toward me, his
eyes wild. "You can't marry him, Mir. Either you leave him, or I'll tell him. It's not right," he's slurred. "It's not right."
At the utterance of this threat, I could no more have stopped my siren voice than I could have held back the tide. "Listen to me, Hal Belshaw," I said, the violins poured from my throat and even the wind could not knock them away from my lips. The sound vibrated and shimmered in the air. All of the anger and betrayal in my father's face melted away, his face and body relaxed. "You never woke up that night at the campground. You slept solid through the night. You and I never fought at the wedding. Mermaids don't exist."
His lips moved as he repeated my words.
The truck came to a stop.
"You had a relapse and wandered away from the Sea Dog," I finished. My heart was pounding in my chest like a drum. Both doors opened and Nathan and Crystal crossed the road towards the boardwalk.
"...Away from the Sea Dog," Hal repeated.
I swallowed down the siren sound. It tucked away easily, now that my identity was out of danger. "Let's go get you sobered up, Dad," I said. My mouth was full of ashes, my stomach a turmoil of anxiety, and something darker. Wasn't my dad right? If I really loved Nathan, shouldn't I leave him so he could make a life with a human girl? A voice screamed in my head at the thought of leaving Nathan. Something inside me began to bleed.
Nathan and Crystal came across the dyke stones to meet us. Snow caked one side of us as the wind increased and whipped across our bodies.
"I'm sorry," Hal was saying as Nathan put a steady arm around his shoulders and steered him toward land. "Must have had a relapse and wandered away from home instead of t'ward."
"You were doing so well, Hal" said Nathan, his voice warm. "What happened?"
"I... I..." Hal stuttered, unable to explain. "I'm not sure."
Crystal looped an arm through Hal's other side. I trailed behind, feeling emotionally battered and bruised. I couldn't tear my eyes from the broad back of my husband. Was what was good for me, bad for him?
Sirens and Scales Page 102
