Lovers Peak

by Dani Stowe

  That’s when I felt it—something painful, both physically and emotionally. The dragon felt it too and darted away. I grabbed the end of its tail as it swung around and the dragon pulled me towards a mess of debris floating from Porterman’s sunken ship.

  I made my way towards a large open trunk floating aimlessly and surrounded by circling sharks. I wiggled my lower half to bring me higher out of the water to see what was inside and there she was. Wet and crouched in a fetal position to her side, I noticed Kumiko—she was bleeding.

  “Orphelius!” she cheered and reached out to grab me. The trunk tipped and she slipped halfway into the water, but I was there to catch her—with my tentacles!

  She observed my transformation immediately. It was hard not to notice—her legs slid easily along the smooth mass below my waist and the suctioning grip of many cups sprawled along my new limbs wrapped around her back to keep her from sinking.

  She let her eyes wander about before she hugged me and I’d never felt so much relief. “Hold me,” she said and I wrapped my arms around her. “Tighter,” she demanded, and I squeezed.

  I felt an ache but I knew it was not coming from me and I lifted my lover’s arm to see a gash at her rib.

  “Don’t look at it,” she whined and turned my face away.

  My heart sunk. “I have to take you back to the ship.”

  She squeezed me tighter. “You can’t take me back. I want to stay here. Take us where no one will find us.”

  I repeated my last statement to her; never had words felt so despondent and jarring. “I have to take you back to the Annabelle. There is a doctor on board.”

  “No, I don’t want to go. I will be fine,” she cried and she kissed me.

  The kiss should’ve been comforting, but all I could feel was sheer pain from the wound at her rib. It was at that moment I knew I had to take her back to her lord. Kumiko needed a doctor and, as much as it pained me, I had no choice in my action.

  My lady fought me as I pulled her grip from my neck to force her back into the trunk and lock her in it. I recovered a piece of rope and it was only a matter of minutes before I brought us alongside the Annabelle. I found it easy to loop the rope between the anchor and the trunk, which allowed the Annabelle to pull the trunk with it. Luckily, the first light of the morning sun had begun to pierce through the sky, which made the trunk easily visible. I fell behind but followed to ensure the trunk would be seen in tow. And, indeed, it was found trailing.

  After the trunk with Kumiko inside was hoisted aboard, for weeks, I followed behind the Annabelle until the ship finally made it to the new land that would be America. When I saw Kumiko walk down the plank and onto the pier, my heart was jubilant.

  I lingered about the pier for a few days. I had no idea what to do with myself in this new form and realm I regretted being my new home. I hung around the Annabelle, careful not to be noticed, although it was fun to scare a sailor every now and then. I was hoping some news might be overheard of Captain Willis or perhaps of Henry, but at that time, I figured they drowned and perished.

  I did miss my friend, Willis, as we had known each other a long time. But I missed Kumiko more although we had shared nothing but one night in a tight embrace.

  I felt as though I had been waiting for an eternity to overhear any kind of news. The fish I could command would not talk, although the unusual sea dragon that was always at my side comforted me. But even with my new friend, I was becoming depressed, particularly in observance with the peculiar state I was in. Until finally, she came to me.

  It was the dead of night when I saw Kumiko sneaking onto the pier. She was disguised as a man, but I knew it was she. The second she came near the water, I could feel it was her.

  I was suddenly worried about the way I looked, about the state of my being. This wasn’t some mask I could just take off.

  She squatted at the edge of the pier and whispered a call to me. “Master Mayhem.”

  When I was sure no one was looking, I reached with two long boneless limbs and pulled her through the air to me. She giggled until she was submerged up to her waist in cold sea water, at which point she gasped and I regretted she was chilled, but I didn’t want to let her go. I felt warmer when she wrapped her arms tight around my shoulders.

  “My Master,” she said with a smile and kissed me.

  Chapter 10

  Kumiko

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  Pushing my way through heavy doors, I stop before I enter completely. I look about the hall filled with shelves high and wide of books, but the racket I’m hearing—the banging and cursing, is not what I’d expect to hear from the inside of a library.

  “Fuck this stupid piece of shit.” I hear a woman cry.

  Making my way in, I head to the checkout counter to find a fair-skinned woman beating up a copy machine. She hits it with her hands a few times and I force a cough to divert her attention.

  The thin woman wearing a long black skirt with a cheap white rayon shirt showing her cami top through turns to me. She looks me up and down through her large rimmed glasses and furrows her brow. She doesn’t approve of my attire—frayed, short denim shorts and a purple halter-top that shows off my tattoo. The clash of our attire is an attestation of our age difference, which I suspect must span nearly a decade.

  “I can’t help you today, Kumiko,” she says.

  “How’d you know my name?”

  “I know a lot about you. I’m the town librarian and historian, among other things.”

  “You know, it’s a little creepy you say that yet I have no idea who you are other than what I’m assuming is the librarian.”

  “Shelley didn’t tell you about me?” she asks, fixing her glasses with one hand as she keeps hitting the big green button on the machine with the other.

  “Athena?”

  “That’s right.” She smiles cockily.

  “Athena, I don’t think that machine is going to work no matter how many times you keep pushing that button.”

  She kicks the copy machine and it lights up. She clasps her hands together and does a little dance. “Oh please!”

  I look at the mess of papers and books Athena has sprawled about. It looks like she’s attempted to put together a flyer of some sort. SAVE THE DOLPHINS TOWN HALL MEETING: 7pm @ The Library, it says at the top. She’s added a portrait of one the mammals, which she cut out of a book and below the image she added, FREE FOOD.

  More banging resumes, except it’s not Athena. It’s the copy machine sounding as if it’s whacking at itself from the inside before it finally craps out.

  “No,” she whines and stomps a few times like a toddler.

  I feel bad she’s so frustrated, but I’m also glad. Maybe she’ll pay attention to me now. “Sooooooo, do you have a minute?” I ask.

  She sighs and turns to me, running her gaze over my tattoo. “You died,” she says.

  I’m so frustrated. “Why does everybody keep saying that?!”

  Athena forces a half grin. “Sit down,” she grumbles. “I’ll get the book.”

  The Book. Shelley talked about it, but I wasn’t listening. Athena has some special book all about Henry and his sea mates. Henry this. Henry that. Henry’s a fish then he’s a man. I still can’t come to grips with all of it despite everything I’ve seen.

  When Athena comes to sit next to me in a hard wooden chair at one of the tables, she spreads the infamous book open in front of me. I am reminded of what Shelley tried to tell me—something about Henry and his mates being stabbed by a fork.

  It was funny at the time, but seeing the disturbing drawing of a slave with a trident—each prong drawn with a man impaled upon it, brings bile to the back of my throat. I swallow hard when I see the man in the middle who resembles someone I’ve only recently met—Orphelius.

  Confusion plagues me for in the drawing he has legs, not tentacles. My heart floats above the bile in my esophagus. I feel my cheeks warm and the corners of my mouth can’t help but turn upward when I see
a sword in his hand. A replay of this morning briefly plays through my mind as I imagine Orphelius with legs and a sword, instead of birds, and he comes crashing through the window to save me from being violated.

  I run my fingertips across the page.

  “Don’t touch it,” Athena warns like the book is as special as the men and their stories.

  It is in that moment in which I finally do feel like they are special—Henry and Orphelius, the mermen. Regardless of how it happened, Orphelius did save me this morning.

  “Have you met him yet?” asks Athena pointing to the stabbed Orphelius.

  “Well, sort of. He kinda abducted me and brought me to a secluded beach and the whole thing really freaked me out—”

  “You know you are meant for him.”

  I roll my eyes. It pisses me off. Some people might think the whole fate thing is real, but not me. Look at my parents!

  Hell, even if love is real and people are meant to be fated to one another, look at Shelley’s parents. Sure. They’re together now. Together forever and dead at the bottom of the sea because of love.

  “That’s absurd,” I smirk. “People are not meant for each other. It’s that kind of thinking that forces people to do stupid things.”

  “Like fall in love?” Athena asks and flips the page.

  I gasp with astonishment. It’s me—except it’s not me. The woman in the picture has my features, but is thinner and dressed in a kimono—and dead! My throat is cut and I’m lying in what looks like a pool of blood around me. What I don’t understand is why I look like a sea monster is dragging me. Tentacles are wrapped around my wrists and the dead me is being dragged to what looks like the next page.

  I turn it and there I am again! It’s just my face that is drawn with a slit throat as Orphelius kisses me with squinted eyes and tears in each corner. Orphelius is crying as he kisses the dead me.

  The. Dead. Me.

  I shut the book. “I don’t understand this. What does this mean? Is this some kind of joke? Did Shelley and Henry put you up to this?”

  “Put me up to what? You’ve seen Henry. You’ve seen him with your own eyes. Why are you in denial? You know you want to sleep with the tentacled Orphelius.”

  “No, I don’t.” Gross!

  “If you didn’t Kumiko, you wouldn’t be here. You’re really here to see if it’s safe and I can tell you for sure, Orphelius may look scary—a bit different, but—”

  “Different! The man has a massive balloon for a lower body that splits into a mess of purple slimy feelers that reach at least twenty feet long! He’s a freak!”

  Athena’s brow furrows again. “They are not freaks. And by the way, have you looked at yourself lately? If there are any freaks in this town, it’s you,” she says pointing.

  I look down and I don’t get it. “So I like cute clothes, that doesn’t mean I’m a freak.”

  “You’re right, you’re not a freak. You look like a slut who’s in desperate need of attention.”

  Bitch! “I’d rather be a slut than a virgin.” Athena bites her bottom lip. I knew it! The nerd is a virgin.

  She closes and then retracts the book.

  “Don’t tell me you’re saving yourself for one of them,” I sneer.

  Athena stands up and cradles the book against her chest. “I’m sorry. This is not how I planned this conversation to go. I really do wish you would at least consider befriending him; he is very special. A Master at Arms and officer in the old British navy, but you see, Orphelius will never be able to come on land until he finds a mate that will accept his ring and lay with him. According to Henry, it’s a relief to live like a normal human, but more so among friends and not in isolation. He says it feels like being stranded. It’s not something I guess we can understand.”

  “So, I’m just supposed to spread my legs and sleep with a sea monster?”

  “You might enjoy it. It’s obvious you’re looking for—oh, I don’t know, something.”

  Athena turns her back to me, heading towards the copy machine again to knock it around. I look at the flyer she’s left behind. The words FREE FOOD triggers a grumble in my stomach and I’m missing Shelley and Henry more now because they cook.

  I don’t cook so I figure maybe I should come back for the food, plus I like dolphins, especially more so after I’ve interacted with a few.

  “Athena, what’s this thing about dolphins you’re preparing for tonight?”

  She stops banging. “There’s a tank at the marina the university uses on occasion with its students, but the tank is privately owned. There’s a baby dolphin that got put in there last night. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to keep the animal in there and the poacher is taking bids to sell it. I went to the sheriff, but he says he won’t do anything about it.”

  I rub the top of my head where a welt still throbs. “Who’s the poacher?”

  “Brad something. He’s new in town. Would you believe I hardly know anything about him? I do know he was at the hospital this morning after a freak attack by a bunch of seagulls. He lost one of his eyes. Serves him right though. Seriously, who steals baby dolphins from their mothers?”

  I recall asking myself the exact same thing: Who steals baby dolphins from their mothers? Rapists!

  “Are you coming tonight? The whole town will be here,” Athena continues. “Not much ever goes on here except during the annual Booty Festival, but you missed that. So, if you come, I’m sure you’ll pretty much get to meet everybody. I’m sure Shelley and Henry would’ve come.”

  “I can’t come,” I tell her and to hear myself say that makes me sick of my own existence. I love that stupid little mammal and it might even be my fault it got caught, but I don’t want anything to do with Bradley. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to face him. In fact, it’s probably in my best interest to leave town because of him.

  I decide that’s what I’m going to do. I get up and head towards the doors when Athena calls out to me. “Kumiko! I forgot to tell you Orphelius has powers.”

  “Oh yeah?” I pretend not to know.

  “Yeah, Poseidon granted his powers between the three men. Orphelius has the power to control sea animals. He is a master of beasts. I suspect Orphelius can feel their pain. If you do see him, will you let him know I will do my best to return the baby to its mother?”

  I still think it’s very strange that Shelley and Athena can talk so coolly about mermen. The issue continues to feel foreign to me, but what I hate most is that the more I know, the smaller I feel in the grand scheme of things.

  I think of the birds that crash-landed into Shelley’s window. The small things saved me—sacrificed their lives to stop Bradley from assaulting me and I wonder if Orphelius could feel each bird’s pain. I wonder if he could feel each one dying just to save little ol’ me.

  I nod to Athena, who is without a doubt a much bigger person than I, and leave.

  Chapter 11

  Kumiko

  THE SUN HAS SET LEAVING only a trickle of light painted on the horizon. It took less than an hour to pack, but cleaning the beach house of feathers and—bluchk!—Bradley’s blood is taking a lot longer. Small drops of dried, marooned, splattered blood span across every corner of the house—the chairs, the cabinets, the walls. Just when I think I’m about done, I see another tiny little crimson speck and I have this insatiable need to wipe it away. I want to wipe it all away. I don’t know why. I don’t plan to stay here, but I just don’t want any traces of Bradley anywhere.

  I consider Bradley might come back, but when I get up off my knees from scrubbing, my feathered friend seems to always be on guard—except for right now. The darn thing isn’t even watching me. The seagull’s got its eyes closed.

  “Hey!” I shout. It fluffs its feathers as it opens its eyes, but turns its head to tuck it back between its wings to fall back asleep.

  I can’t believe I’m talking to a dumb bird and I’m expecting the dumb bird to be a better bodyguard.

  I throw the brown sponge
into the small bucket of hot soapy water, grab the handle, and head towards the kitchen. Leaning up against the kitchen sink for leverage to empty the bucket, I notice there’s a figure standing on the dry soil out front.

  I drop the bucket in the sink and it splashes; soapy water filled with the remnants of Bradley’s leftover blood is on me and I swear to God if that’s him coming back to try to finish what he started, I’ll fight him. I’ll really kill him this time.

  I reach over and grab a knife.

  I look back to the front, but the figure is gone and I hear a pounding at the door.

  Shit!

  I don’t say anything, thinking maybe he’ll go away and then I remember the broken window. He can easily come in through it and grab me. As I tiptoe over to the hallway, the beach house creaks and I have to slow down; I don’t want whoever it is to hear me. Even if it’s not Bradley, I don’t want to engage with whoever’s at the door because I have every intention of leaving this town tonight.

  I creep slowly down the hall to Shelley’s room. I’m trying to think of a way I can keep the door wedged shut if Bradley should try to enter through the window and I sense the figure beside me.

  I turn to my right swiping with the knife into the dark doorway—air—of the bathroom. I know I’ve let out a squeal letting whoever it is know I’m here, but there’s nothing in the doorway and I turn on the bathroom light.

  “Hi Cookie,” says a dark figure, a woman, in the mirror and I jolt back into the hall. I raise the knife; my hand is squeezing the handle, but I can’t keep the knife from shaking by my hand that is trembling.

  She laughs and I recognize the laugh. It’s the palm reader from the carnival years ago, the one who encouraged me to get the tattoo. I look about to my left and my right and behind me to the wall—she’s nowhere, but I sense she is everywhere. I reluctantly look back into the mirror. My reflection is gone and only she is there.