by A. L. Knorr
After Georjayna's parents got a divorce and her father disappeared, an awful new possibility began to haunt me. If her father could just up and leave his family like that, what was stopping my mom from leaving too? I would ask her outright if she was thinking about running away, and she'd kiss me on the top of my head.
Of course not, baby. I love you.
But I knew that she was. She had become unhappy on land. I imagined her happy and free in the water, and miserable on land with me and my dad. The contrast I imagined she suffered terrified me.
I had nightmares that I'd wake up and run into my parents room to find my father dead of a broken heart and my mother gone. Then I'd wake up for real in a cold sweat and be so relieved that it was a dream, but my fear was stirred up again. It was never allowed to die.
I began to get up quietly every night and peek into their room after they'd gone to sleep just to make sure I could count two bodies in the darkness. Sometimes one of them wouldn't be there, and I would know that she had gone out for a swim. I would go back to my room, my heart pounding and my mouth dry. I'd sit on the floor inside my door until I heard the front door open and close, so quietly that I had to strain to hear it. Then I'd watch for her through the crack. Only when I saw her come back did I go to bed, but I never knew for sure if she was going to come back at all. And just when I was sure we were going to wake up and find her gone and never to return, my father died for real and everything changed.
We never even knew that he'd had a heart condition. He was a young, strong man. He liked to play hockey in a beer league every winter. He'd always come home happy after his games. I would struggle to stay awake, because I knew he'd always be home before midnight. He'd sneak into my room and kiss me good night. He'd have cold cheeks and the sweet smell of beer on his breath. Sometimes I'd throw my arms around his neck, trying to pull him down. He'd laugh and rub my face with his beard.
But during one of these games he simply collapsed. The doctor told us that he'd likely been dead before he hit the ice and that he'd felt no pain. He was just gone. We'd grieved for a long time, my mom and I. It was hard on both of us but it was especially hard on her. Because then, not only had she lost her love but she had a daughter who'd failed to turn and yet couldn't be left alone. She couldn't even escape the grief by drowning her memory in saltwater. She either had to live through it or abandon her little girl, so she stayed. How she fought the call of the ocean and grieved her loss at the same time, I'll never know. Years later, she'd joked that she was the only mermaid alive who knew what the five stages of grief were, let alone to have gone through them.
We received some insurance money but it wasn't enough to last and so she was forced to find some kind of employment. What does a siren do for a living? My mom never even finished high school, she went into the ocean after her mom passed away from cancer. She was only eleven. I guess even mermaids aren't immune to the big C-word. Mom was living in the ocean when most women are focused on an education. The testament to her brilliance is that she built herself a career as a human salvage diver, from scratch. You know what they say about the truth being hidden in plain sight? The irony of it still takes my breath away.
She got the idea when she saw an ad in the paper offering a reward to anyone who could return some valuable items which had been lost at sea. The items had been lost where else but Devil's Eye Cove. There had been talk around town that they'd never be found and anyone who attempted would die trying. Naturally, she recovered them easily and she made sure the media knew it was she who had done it. At the time, I think she was hoping for others who had lost items at sea to approach her so we could live off reward money. But it didn't take long for the story to reach Simon at Bluejacket and soon she had a job offer.
There was some scrambling in the beginning to make sure she'd covered all her bases. She had to learn how to use diving equipment and handle herself on salvage dives. She joined the all-male team and they didn't make it easy on her. The first few years were pretty bumpy, but she hung in there. My mother is so tough she's almost callous, and I doubt there are many human women who would have stuck with the job the way she has. I know I wouldn't have.
The truth is, I really don't know how she does it. Whenever the Bluejackets have a salvage job, she dons the diving gear along with the rest of them and plays the part. It just about drives her insane. I have tried to imagine what it's like for a mermaid to enter the deep encumbered by human legs and diving gear instead of her own gills and fins.
But the secret of the team's success lays in what she does on her own time. She dives under cover of darkness and sets the dive sites up for maximum success. She unearths the valuables and places them strategically throughout the site for the team to find with efficiency but without raising suspicion that the site has been tampered with.
It's so easy for her to do that I had asked her once why she didn't start her own company. She'd said that the business side of it would probably kill her. She had no interest in being an entrepreneur. She just wanted to make enough money to keep us reasonably well looked after, and she wanted to spend as much time in the ocean as possible.
She used to try and hold back and let the men stumble across as many pieces she had strategically placed throughout the wrecks as possible, without 'finding' them herself. But with all the Bluejackets' success it had only been getting harder and harder for her to spend time in the diving gear. So, she gave up the pretence and works as though she knows the sites like the back of her hand, which of course she does.
Her performance underwater soon made her a legend. She doesn't even need GPS to find a wreck site a second time, once she knows where it is she can find it again like it has a built in homing beacon. The men can't account for her clairvoyant-like skill, and it has sparked jealousy and sour feelings within the team towards her.
Every dive she does in gear wears her patience thinner. She can't call in sick and skip the dives because her pay is contingent upon her being present. She used to have a bit of a reprieve every winter because the Bluejacket team could only take foreign jobs once the snow and ice had blown in. Cold water is no problem for my mom in her mermaid form so winter quickly became her favourite season. But as the Bluejackets' success has grown, Simon wins more foreign jobs and the team has to make trips to the Caribbean or wherever the work is. Unlike the rest of the gainfully employed, my mother is never more miserable than when she has to make a work trip to somewhere tropical. It means she has to spend a lot of time in the hated diving equipment and away from me. It also means she has to spend a lot of time with the guys on her team and their jealousy.
She couldn't care less about the way her team feels about her. When I urged her to be more considerate toward them she'd say that she didn't work there to make friends. Her lone wolf attitude mixed with her siren's allure makes for a lot of confused emotion in the office. For her exemplary performance, Simon has given my mother lots of bonuses. He puts her on a pedestal and encourages the team to emulate her. But the guys don't have a hope of competing with her.
Simon went through a phase where he tried to get my mom to break down her 'techniques' and give the guys workshops so they could all learn how she did it. That turned out to be a disaster because my mom couldn't teach them what she couldn't explain and she hated being the centre of attention.
To make things worse, the men don't understand why she's so damn attractive to them. They resent her, but they all want to be with her at the same time. I used to drop by the office just to watch the subtext play out. I have come to recognize two emotions very keenly, desire and resentment, the latter of which is just a hairsbreadth from hatred.
At my urging, she finally asked Simon to stop recognizing her in front of the team. She'd also asked him to minimize the amount of press she got. She doesn't want the public accolades. Supposedly he tried, but the media is often insistent. Salvage diving has its own following, and the press always wants to talk to the rock star of the deep. That's what they call her, ev
en though most of their dives aren't even close to being 'deep'. A few years back there was a television producer who wanted to make a reality series centred around my mom, and Simon saw dollar signs. My mom threatened to leave if he didn't shut up about it.
She's now a legend in the diving community and the press loves her because she's gorgeous, rough around the edges, and makes for a great interview. She makes people laugh just by being her blunt self and giving one-word answers. They can't tell if she really is that rude, or if she's just playing a part.
We don't talk about my father or her work struggles much anymore. I know that the pull of the ocean is very strong on her but between the diving time and constant busyness, somehow she copes. These are my mom's demons and I know she wrestles with them daily.
As for mine? I could never bring myself to tell her I'd be ok if she left. It's my biggest fear that she'll leave and never come back. I don't want her to go, even when I am all grown up. I can't picture a day when I won't need her.
As a siren, the entire ocean should be her playground but for my sake she's restricted to staying close enough to Saltford to be back in time for supper. It's the equivalent of keeping a tiger on a three-foot chain.
It pains me to know how much she denies her true nature and how torn she must feel. I blame myself. If I had only been able to change, things would be so different. I carry the guilt with me always because I know that I have failed her.
So, she has her demons and I have mine. Sometimes it feels like life is just a test to see who will crack first.
Seven
Before I knew it, it was the night before we were to leave and we had boxes and bags of gear and luggage crammed into the truck. We had to be at the airfield at 4:30 am. Martinius had arranged for his own pilot to pick us up in his private jet.
There was no way I was going to sleep tonight; I was way too excited. Mom made me go to bed early anyway, which was weird because she never enforced bedtime. She went to bed early too, and I noticed that she was drawn and anxious looking. Her mouth was tight and she looked tense. This was out of character for her but for a good reason. My mother hated flying, it made her feel sick. She was meant to be swimming in the depths of the sea, not hurtling through the sky in a metal cigar-tube at 30,000 feet. I hated to watch her stress levels mount before a flight. At least this time I would be with her the whole time.
I did fall asleep after a while and by the time my alarm went off at 3:30 I woke up and bounced out of bed, wide awake. I hadn't been on a plane since I was just a kid. I was eager for the experience of a private jet.
Mom on the other hand, had shadows under her eyes. I watched her as we ate breakfast in sleepy silence. She was staring out the window watching the sky turn from black to black that was thinking about turning pink.
"Did you sleep ok?" I asked as I watched her eat her oatmeal slowly, her eyes at half-mast.
She gave me a wan smile. "I slept a bit. You know that I've never been a big fan of flying. It's the only thing that really saps my energy."
"I'll be with you, Mom," I said, giving her a hug.
"Thank God for that," she said, squeezing me back. "Don't worry. I'll be fine, lovey. I'm old hat at this now. Just don't be worried if I try to sleep the whole time."
"That sounds like the perfect solution," I said.
We arrived at the airfield a half hour before take off. Today's Bluejacket Team was eleven men strong, including Simon. My mom, the only woman, brought the crew to a dozen.
I shook a lot of hands. There were many team members I didn't know but I was too excited to remember all their names. Mom explained to me that some of the men were strangers to her, too – they were contractors that Simon found just for this job. My mom referred to them as 'cowboys'.
The small jet had the words NOVAK STOCZNIOWCÓW BRACIZ stencilled on the side. As part of the logo there was a stylized image of an old-fashioned sailing vessel with three masts painted on the aircraft's body in navy and white. I assumed the image of the ship was to add character, because from what I'd overheard, the Novak corporation's empire was the most cutting edge shipping company in Europe. I didn't know anything about the industry, but I was pretty sure their vessels didn't look like the ship out of Peter Pan.
We entered the plane through a small door beside the wing. The interior was nicely finished in navy leather with cream coloured piping. The pilot was a smart looking man with a lot of laugh-lines. He introduced himself as Ivan. His warm eyes lingered on my mother as she boarded the plane and turned to go down the narrow aisle.
My phone chirped as I was stuffing my carry-on into the overhead bin and I reached into my purse, wondering who was texting me so early in the morning. I looked at the screen to see that it was Georjayna.
Have a good fight to
