by Starla Night
She leveled a slice of papaya at him. “Sometimes, it feels like it.”
They ate a subdued breakfast. The kids haphazardly finished their chores and then spilled down to the sand, but the fighting and crying did not let up.
“Mom, Squiddy washed up on the beach.” One of Meg’s younger sons waved a floppy, very deceased squid. “Can you fix him?”
Meg pursed her lips. “Again? Oh…”
The squid hung cross-eyed and upside down, was missing one long arm and several smaller tentacles, and was coated in sand.
He was an ex-squid.
“I think it might be his time,” Val said from the breakfast table.
The child shrieked hysterically. “It’s not his time! He’s coming back! Just like Dad!”
Oh, no.
Meg headed down the beach and hugged her sobbing child.
Dannika’s heart ached for both of them. Because honestly, her son’s cry echoed what they were all feeling.
Silently begging the warriors to come back, fearing they never would, promising herself that she just had to be patient one more hour and then Ciran would climb out of the sea triumphantly leading a whole army to rescue them. She had to cling to that fantasy.
Because if it didn’t happen, then she’d never know. They’d wait on, suspended between hope and terror, day after day. Like Bex had been for three years.
Dannika shuddered and hugged the cracked Sea Opal.
You are all right. You are fine. You are my soul mate.
Come back.
Meg carried Squiddy down to the beach and disappeared with him into the rough waves.
After just a few minutes, Angie joined the heartbroken boy. She scowled out at the ocean. Any warrior who saw her right now would turn around. But without the barrier, they couldn’t feel safe.
Not that they ever had been safe. As Nuno’s abduction proved, the coral was illusory.
“You know, if Meg’s smart, she’s out there hunting for another squid missing a long arm and a few tentacles.” Val munched on a snack of smoked fish. “You all are going through a tough time. The kids don’t need more trauma. But how can she keep bringing it back? That squid was a little too ripe for calamari if you know what I mean.”
Dannika did.
Meg eventually emerged and waved at the water. Her child pranced happily. Angie descended beneath the waves. Despite the missing barrier, they didn’t want to totally take away the familiar play area. Their current safety system was to let the children play in the shallowest section of the reef with an adult or older teen always present.
“Did you bring that squid back?” Val asked Meg. “Or was it an honorable burial at sea?”
“No, I did something. I don’t know if you’d call it healing at this point, but yeah, he scooted off with a new, probably temporary, lease on undersea life.” Meg slumped on the bench and dropped her wet face in her hands. “Ugh.”
“All hail Lazarus,” Val muttered.
“That’s amazing,” Dannika agreed. “I mean, the squid was dead this time. Really dead.”
“Argh!” Meg straightened and lifted her hands to the sky. “Why? Why don’t I have a useful power like shielding or pushing? Then we could’ve stormed off with the warriors and I could have shielded them.” She glanced at Dannika. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I know.” Dannika stroked the Sea Opal. “I’m the one to blame.”
Meg stood abruptly. “This isn’t helping. I have to do something. Something!”
Her kids screamed. “Mom. He started it. Mom!”
“Okay, that’s not what I meant.” Meg sighed heavily. “I’ll be right back.”
Sick pets were followed by broken toys. Everything went wrong. Everything was a crisis. And when the youngest kids cried to their mothers for comfort, they got hugs but left after mere moments, unsatisfied, and started wailing yet again.
Bex spent the morning hunched beside a salt-scummed, waterlogged, sun-bleached radio box.
Val stretched out her leg. It might be Dannika’s imagination, but the swelling finally seemed to go down. “Any luck with the radio?”
“Not yet.”
“Did that whole caboodle wash up on shore?”
Bex shook her head. “Itime’s dad, Elder Daka, brought us stuff. He said he was negotiating peace. He did always tell Ankena to go back to his dad and mend the rift, but Ankena said his dad was beyond hearing it.” She shrugged. “Ankena was right.”
“It’s a marine radio?”
“Yep.” She scratched off a speck of rust. “If I get it working, the range will be tiny. Someone will have to sail past, and you might as well light a signal fire. But.” She shrugged again. “It’s something.”
And they all needed something.
Especially Val, who couldn’t transform. If the warriors didn’t come back, the kids would grow up. The women could try something crazy like swimming to Miami or Nassau. But Val couldn’t. She was stuck.
“I hope we get lucky,” Val said.
“Yeah.” Bex blew air out of her mouth and worked on the wires again. “Could use some luck.”
The morning passed into lunchtime. Tulu and Hadali traded places with Angie supervising the beach, one in the water and one on the sand, watching two fronts for danger. Angie returned to the firepit to start lunch.
“Everyone’s snappish,” Val said from her usual spot. “Maybe the air pressure’s down. Hurricane’s on the move.”
“Good,” Bex said.
“You want a hurricane? Here?”
“The Luscans only attack in clear weather,” she said.
And Stevie might be crossing back and forth, in a grid pattern, exposing himself over and over to the danger.
They ate an uncomfortable lunch, and then the kids fought on the shore. Something was rising, and it wasn’t just their impatience.
“Okay.” Dannika addressed the adults together. “Let’s just be honest. We all feel bad right now. And Bex?”
Bex looked up from the radio she was tuning from static to static.
“I’m sorry for doubting you,” Dannika said. “You must have been living with this feeling for a long time.”
“What feeling?”
“Like something is wrong,” Meg said. “Like Itime’s imprisoned and helpless, alive, he but can’t get out. He’s trapped. That’s how it feels.”
Angie crossed her arms. “I thought we weren’t talking about this.”
“We have to talk about it, Mom. Dannika’s right. Bottling it up isn’t helping.”
“It’s helped for the last twenty years.”
“Okay, well, that’s what you said when Dad filed for divorce, married his best friend, and gave you the yacht as the ‘sorry I convinced you to live a lie, I guess I couldn’t really do it after all’ for also, if I recall, twenty years.”
Angie flattened her lips into a white line.
“It doesn’t matter how long you push the feelings down. They’re going to come fizzing back up in the most dramatic, day-drinking, ‘I’m not an alcoholic because I don’t drink at night—because I pass out at 4 pm’ drama queen bull hockey. And this time, Konomelu’s not here to tell you to let it out.”
“Language,” Angie said.
“You want language?” Meg snapped her fingers. “I can tell you exactly what I think in Latin or Cantonese.”
Mother and daughter glared at each other.
Bex turned to Dannika as if no one had interrupted. “Yeah, I’ve been feeling this way for three years. So, thanks. I’m glad you believe me.”
Meg’s shoulders dropped and she opened her arms to Bex. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry. I believe you now. Hugs.”
Bex accepted her hug with her usual stoicism, but her blonde brows lightened.
Angie smoothed her grass skirt, which today had a hibiscus corsage, and put on a pleasant smile for Val. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. Normally, we disagree with more grace.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Val snacked on a strip of r
oasted seaweed. “This stuff is better than popcorn.”
They all took a seat around the table and broke into the snacks and wine. It really felt better to discuss her dread in the open, and so once they’d all had a few sips, Dannika continued her facilitator role.
“Okay, so we all feel like our warriors are trapped. What do we do?”
“There’s nothing we can do, which is why I refuse to dwell on the negative. Why upset ourselves for no reason?”
“Now, can I ask you something?” Val held out her hand. “Did you know your husband was gay when you married him?”
Angie sighed. “Yes. Of course I did.”
“You didn’t mind?”
“Well, I wanted to have children, and he was from a good family. Besides, I wasn’t in love with him, either. He was a kind man, and great with the kids. It was a different time.” Her eyes narrowed. “And then along came that Ellen and ruined everything.” Angie took a bigger gulp.
Meg rolled her eyes. “And then along came Konomelu and five more children. Hello?”
Angie nodded, unable to argue.
Meg shook her head at the other women. “I told you. Such a drama queen. But still, she’s right. Even if the warriors are in trouble, we’re stuck. We become true castaways. Nobody knows we’re here. We’re on our own.”
That was true.
But was it really?
Could she reframe this the way she reframed the laments of new clients who insisted they would never find love?
“We’re all feeling bad,” Dannika said. “Let’s honor our bad feelings.”
The women looked at her skeptically.
“Honor them?” Meg repeated. “Like, honor them how?”
“We have to feel them. Really lean into the badness. We’re all afraid of ending up isolated and alone. Let’s honor that.”
Meg set down her cup and rubbed her hands together. “Okay. Are we supposed to, like, close our eyes and hold hands?”
Angie pursed her lips.
“No, let’s just be quiet inside and listen to that bad feeling. What’s it saying?”
They all dropped quiet. The wind rustled the palms and the waves crashed on the shore. Insects buzzed and iguanas hissed.
Val crunched a seaweed chip.
Hmm. Well, maybe this had been a dud activity…
“Get out.” Meg opened her eyes. “It’s saying to get out.”
Oh. It had worked?
“Get out?” Dannika repeated. “Of the trap?”
Angie opened her eyes. “Of the water.”
At the same moment, Meg also said, “Get out of the water.”
They looked at each other, eyes wide.
“That’s a little odd.” Angie tapped her lip with her index finger. “I suppose we are mother and daughter.”
“Yeah, we’re on the same wavelength.” Meg laughed uncomfortably.
Val crunched another seaweed chip. “I thought the old reef was safe.”
“I know, it is.” Meg flubbed her lips. “That’s so weird. Whatever. Ignore me.”
Dannika hadn’t had any warning when Eliot had died. The storm hadn’t even made landfall, dissipating long before it reached her guest cottage as a mild gust of wind and a nasty black cloud. She’d had no idea that he’d already been ripped away from her forever.
But now she was a mer. She’d drunk the elixir and accepted Ciran’s Sea Opal. Dannika rubbed the sphere in her caftan pocket. She felt him.
And the mind-body connection was real.
It was the source of her power.
She’d pushed it away. She’d filled her heart with fears. So many fears, like the squid crowding Meg until she suffocated.
Dannika opened her mouth to say something.
Bex did it first. “Maybe it’s not safe.”
Everyone stared at her.
“Maybe you’re feeling a message.” Bex touched her chest. “Maybe you should hear it.”
“Oh, no. The children can’t lose another familiar comfort,” Angie said. “Besides, I’m used to this anxiety. Ask me how I was when I used to plan my husband’s big soirees.”
“When you were living a lie,” Bex said. “And ignoring the truth in your heart.”
Angie stopped smiling. “Yes, well… I don’t want to scare them…”
“Kids!” Meg screamed, running for the shore. “Get out of the water!”
Chapter Thirty
Angie watched Meg race down to the shore screaming. Her brows lifted. “So much for not scaring anyone.”
The kids hustled out of the water.
Hadali went to Bex. “What is it, Mom?”
She put an arm around him. “Keep everybody up here by Val.”
“Why?” Tulu carried his youngest brother with him while the others staggered, wet and dripping, behind them. “What happened?”
“Call it a bad feeling.” Meg touching each of the children as if to count they were all present. “Mother’s intuition.”
They milled uncertainly.
“Hey, kids.” Val summoned them to her side of the table. “You know what we can do on the interior of the island? A pirate treasure hunt!”
“Pirate treasure hunt?” the younger kids chorused.
“How it works is, I make a map with my fellow pirate leaders.” She winked at Hadali and Tulu. “And we make a list of the island’s secret treasures. Then you go and find them, and whoever gets them all first is the winner!”
Val was the true treasure.
And the amazing thing was how she kept coming up with new ideas to entertain the children.
“Are you sure you weren’t a preschool teacher instead of a pilot?” Meg asked while the kids got together and decided on teams.
“Camp counselor.” Val rubbed her ragged collar. “Ten years. I’ve got all my badges. This is just the top of my carpetbag of tricks.”
“Entertaining the kids will save our lives.”
“Well, I hope it helps, seeing as there’s not much else I can do but sit by this radio and hope somebody stumbles upon our island.”
The radio crackled.
“Warn them about the reef,” Bex said. “I destroyed the big part but there are still fragments. They can bottom out.”
The kids gathered around Val in their pirate treasure teams.
“We’re ready for the pirate treasure hunt,” Hadali announced.
“Well, then, the first thing we need to find is ten seashells. Let’s—”
“Shouldn’t our hunt start at Cock-and-Balls Crater?” Hadali interrupted. “Everything always starts there.”
Val blinked. “Where?”
“Cock-and-Balls Crater.”
“Uh…”
“All our secrets are coming out today, ha ha.” Meg cleared her throat. “Why don’t you show Val?”
“Can we?” the kids chorused.
“Sure,” Meg said.
“I’m a little curious myself,” Dannika said.
The younger kids skipped ahead.
“It’s at the top of the crater.” Hadali brought over Val’s crutch. “You will need your staff.”
Val grabbed his hand, oofed to her feet, and leaned on the crutch. Up the hill, past the shower and deep into the interior they completed a short, sharp hike to the tallest point of the island.
The Bahamas were not volcanic islands, so weather or something else must have sculpted the “crater” from the ancient limestone. Vines trailed over the sides. Inside, at the bottom in a lake, a massive, weathered phallic statue thrust from two boulders. It did indeed resemble a short, squat, somewhat deflated male genitalia.
“Huh.” Val panted and leaned on her crutch. “Cock-and-Balls, you say…”
“It’s, ah, not the most poetic name.” Meg laughed awkwardly. “But this was the island of the sacred brides, so they would have fertility symbols, and once you see it, you can’t unsee it, you know?”
“That’s funny because I see more of a giant squid. Those bulges on the sides look like eyes. Tho
se ridges are tentacles climbing the walls.”
Huh.
Actually, when Val said that, the boulders did resemble eyes, and the triangular flaps on the sides were more like fins.
Meg laughed in disbelief. “Okay. We’ve been living here twenty years and I have never once thought it was a giant squid. But you’re right. That’s what it is. Is that crazy?”
“It happens.” Val grinned. “You just needed an outside perspective. Can we get down and check it out?”
“There is a way down.” Bex pointed out a narrow, vine-strewn ledge.
“I wouldn’t, though. Not with your foot. You have to hang off the cliff a little,” Meg said.
A strange tone echoed in the crater, resonant and deep, like an ancient bell.
“What is that?” Dannika asked. “I keep hearing it.”
Meg answered. “The, um, tentacles are clutching a bell. Like the Life Tree one, only bigger.”
“It sounds familiar.”
“We can go look at it. Actually, for us, there’s an easier route from the lagoon. It’s how we first discovered it.”
They left Val with the children starting the pirate treasure hunt. Val promised to keep the teams together and inland until the women returned.
Bex led them to the lagoon. They undressed, and Dannika folded her stretched, fraying caftan. Pretty soon, she would have to weave some scratchy grass or give up and go naked.
Bex stopped them at the ledge. “Wait here.” She dove into the water.
Her splash was bigger than the warriors who disappeared with barely a ripple.
She emerged a moment later, head up, on the far side. “Boulder’s in place.”
Dannika hadn’t even thought of it.
“Oh, good,” Meg said, also making an oops face.
“Yeah. Come on.” Bex dove.
The women hopped feet-first into the water. Dannika let the water flow into her, heavy and wet and honest. Her throat closed. Her lungs convulsed.
You are changing, Dannika. No one can believe this for you. You must believe in yourself.
Ciran’s voice said it, but her heart repeated it.
She had to believe it in herself.
Bex floated in front, her fins unfurled. “You ready for this?”
Nerves quickened with excitement.
Angie and Meg also unfurled their fins.
