by A. L. Knorr
She laughed and swatted my butt as I went by her to my room. "By the way, sweetheart," she said, looking over her shoulder at me.
I paused with my hand on the door handle, "Yeah?"
"Martinius has planned a wind-up party for the Bluejackets and the Novak employees. It's next week."
"What's a wind-up party?" I asked.
"To celebrate the end of the project, and all the successes and such," she explained.
"Ah." I shouldn't have been surprised, after all his family had been searching for The Sybellen for a century and a half. It was something worth celebrating. "What kind of party will it be?" I asked. My mind was going through the clothing in my luggage and coming up empty.
She showed her teeth in a grimace, "From what I've gathered it will be quite the affair." She looked up at the ceiling with a pained expression, and then recited word for word what she'd been told in one long outward breath. "Friends of Martinius and prominent members of the community have been invited, also dignitaries and politicians from other Scandinavian and European countries." Then she took a big breath in. "I memorized that, just cuz I knew you'd ask."
I laughed, but now I was concerned. "We didn't pack anything suitable for that. I mean, I sure didn't, did you?"
"Nope," she sighed, getting up and stretching. "We're going to have to go shopping."
I gave an exaggerated groan and planted my head on the door.
Twenty-Seven
I chewed on the dress problem for a day or so. Antoni had already shown me the fashion district in Gdańsk so I knew where to go for clothing, but I no longer had a desire to spend time in the city. Most girls would love to head to the brand name stores on high street with a wad of cash but I'd rather pick trash out of a tangle of seaweed than try on taffeta.
"I know," my mom said with empathy, "now that you're a siren you can hardly think of anything you'd rather do less than go shopping. But, I've got some cash for you, an advance on your part of the performance bonus. So at least you can get something nice."
"Thanks Mom," I said, giving her a hug. It never occurred to me that I'd be paid for the small amount of help I had given. "I'm still dreading it. Do you think Martinius would mind if I asked his secretary to go shopping for me?" I joked.
"Why don't you just order something online, lovey?" Mom said. She was probably sick of listening to me complain.
I blinked in surprise. "You're a genius!" I kissed her cheek.
"I'm not just any old fish, I'm hip to the times," she said.
"I think the fact that you just said 'hip to the times' means that you're not," I laughed. "But that is a golden idea. What are you going to do for a dress?"
"One of our meetings this week is at a lab in Gdańsk, I'll just pop into one of the shops while I'm there and pick something out. It'll take me thirty seconds."
I knew it would, too.
I got the Novak estate delivery address from Antoni and borrowed my mom's credit card and laptop. Within the hour, I had found a simple black baby doll dress that I thought was perfect. As I was trying to figure out the confusing European sizes, Mom came into my room.
"Let's see, what did you find?" She turned the screen towards herself. "You're kidding, right?" she said. "That's what you're ordering?"
"What wrong with it?" I said, defensively.
"It'll make you look like you're twelve, that's what's wrong with it. Move over."
I squirmed over on the bed and made room for her. "Since when are you a fashion guru?" I asked. Mom had the most boring wardrobe on earth.
"Just because I don't like to dress up doesn't mean I don't know how to." She began scrolling through the dresses on the bespoke site that I had found. "Now this..." she turned the screen back towards me, "...is more suitable for a siren, don't you think?"
It was a gown for a princess, not a beach bum like me. The irony that she'd chosen a mermaid style dress wasn't lost on me. It was truly exquisite. It was a strapless, body-hugging gown with ruching up the back. It was described as a one of a kind, ombre design starting with aquamarine at the top and ending in navy blue at the bottom. The silk had been hand-painted using a salting technique to leave a stain suggestive of swirling water. It was made to hug the curves and the 'tail' part of the dress was cut on the bias to give it an elegant draping effect. It was perfect. So why was the thought of wearing it so terrifying?
"If you order anything but that I'll strangle you with your own bikini," Mom said as she slid off my bed and left the room.
I stared at the dress. I couldn't imagine myself in it. I'd never worn anything remotely so beautiful. It was a once in a lifetime dress for a once in a lifetime party.
I punched in my information and hit 'submit'. It was done. After that, I forgot about the dress until it arrived two days later. There was a knock on our door in the morning and I opened it to find Antoni standing there with a large box in his hands.
"Your hairpiece has arrived," he said, grinning.
I whacked him on the shoulder, took the box and shut the door in his face.
"Do I get to see it on you?" his voice came through the door.
"Mom!" I yelled into the room. "Is there anyone you didn't tell about this dress?"
"No, honey," Mom called from her bedroom.
"Shameless!" I hollered back.
"Is that a no?" came Antoni's muffled voice.
"Go away," I said, and heard him chuckling as he walked down the hall.
I tore open the box, a little embarrassed at how excited I was about a dress. I guess there was still a human girl buried in me somewhere. I opened the tissue paper wrapping and the dress came spilling out into my hands like a waterfall. It was very soft and had the cool, clingy sensation of pure silk.
Mom came out of her bathroom brushing her teeth. She pulled the toothbrush out to say, "So, try it on."
I took it into my room and stripped down to my underwear. After a second thought I took those off too. I gingerly unzipped the back of the dress and stepped into it. I pulled it up my body, languishing in the cool feel of it against my bare skin. I held the front up to my chest, then discovered that I wouldn't be able to reach behind myself and zip it up without it falling down.
I waddled out into the sitting area where my mother was waiting, and turned my back to her. She zipped it up for me, and it closed around my body without pinching or drooping. The cool silk hugged every curve. I seemed to have a lot more of those since I'd started swimming for hours every day.
I turned to show my mom. Her expression said everything. Gone were her teasing remarks. What I saw in her face was an awe that her little girl really had grown up.
"You're perfect," she said, softly. "Go look."
I went into the bathroom where the biggest mirror in the suite was hanging on the back of the door. I closed the door and looked at the figure standing there.
It was a disaster. I looked like a fraud. My hand went to my mouth, unconsciously. The girl in the mirror did the same. Her teal eyes were wide with horror. Her long black hair fell in tangled waves down her shoulders. Despite hours of sunlight her skin was ghostly. She looked like she was trying to be someone she wasn't. She was a little girl playing dress-up and everyone would know it the moment they saw her.
"Targa?" I heard my mom's voice. "What do you think? Should I leave you two alone for a while?" she teased. She poked her head into the bathroom and the image in the mirror went sideways out of my view.
As soon as she saw me, her face changed from happy to concerned. "What's wrong? You don't like it?" She came into the bathroom and shut the door. The fraud in the mirror reappeared.
"I don't want to go to the party anymore, Mom. I can't wear this. I don't feel like me," I explained.
Mom stood behind me and pulled my hair away from my face and back off my shoulders. She looked into my face in the mirror and I looked into hers. Hers was a face that belonged over a dress like this, not mine. We did look a lot alike, it was true, but she was older, more womanly. My f
ace looked young, unfinished.
"Darling, look at your reflection and answer me this. Do you see a beautiful girl looking back at you?"
I looked. And yes, I knew that I had beauty. I nodded. The girl nodded along with me.
"Well, I don't," she said, surprising me. "You know what I see?"
I shook my head.
"I see a creature so rare that humans don't even believe she exists. I see an invincible being who is only at the start of a life that will span multiple centuries." Her voice morphed into a quiet symphony of strings. Gooseflesh had come out on my skin, but she wasn't finished. The violins grew as she spoke, "I see a creature who will go places that humans can only dream of going. I see someone who is gifted with everything she needs to find a deep and satisfying love, with or without her siren abilities."
My mother's skin had become luminescent, like a million microscopic lights were sweeping under her skin in waves. It reminded me of the bioluminescent algae that sometimes graced the shores of the ocean at night, churning beautifully onto the beach. Her eyes changed to an even more brilliant blue and became lit from within like the luminescence lived in the iris of her eyes. Her voice was soft but held a promise of power. It was like listening to a hundred-piece orchestra playing low, with suppressed ability. "I see someone who knows when to go after what she wants, and when to sacrifice. I see a living legend, a myth come to life. I see my daughter, a mermaid."
I was staring at my mother in the mirror, transfixed. A few moments of silence passed. "No wonder men find you irresistible," I said, finally. "If it's that important to you, I'll wear the bloody dress."
She laughed, her music fading away now and her luminescent skin and eyes dimming to normal. She let go of my hair and kissed me on the cheek. "Wear the dress. Don't wear the dress. Do whatever makes you happy. You have time to exchange it if you want to. Just come to the party. It will be dull as paint without you there."
Twenty-Eight
I didn't wear the dress. I tried it on half a dozen times and I liked wearing it in the privacy of my own room, but I knew I wouldn't be comfortable wearing it in public. It was too flashy, too overstated, and I felt like it would make me look like I was begging for attention. As a siren, with so many ways to attract men already built in, the dress felt like serious overkill.
So, I returned it and chose a strappy, black knee length dress with a lace overlay. It was elegant and comfortable. It came with a lace wrap to drop over my shoulders or wear as a scarf. I also ordered a pair of black vintage pumps, and thank goodness they fit. I put my hair up into a French twist and donned a simple pair of pearl earrings. I had a black clutch into which I tucked my phone and some lip-gloss. I felt good. My outfit was formal enough to be appropriate for the occasion, but simple enough that I wouldn't feel self-conscious all night.
My mom chose an emerald green column dress made of crepe. It was billowy and concealed her body most of the time but as she moved, it revealed a hint of shape. She wore a tiny pair of emerald studs in her ears which my father had given her and a matching necklace and bracelet. With her hair up in a messy bun and not a stitch of makeup on, she was stunning.
We were transported along with the Bluejacket team to the city in the same black SUV's that had picked us up from the airport. The party was to be held at a hotel in Gdańsk but I didn't know what to expect. Aside from school dances and a couple of weddings, I had been to no formal events.
Once we pulled up to the hotel entrance, a valet was there to open the door. We stepped out onto a red carpet and looked up at the huge stone building we were about to enter. It wasn't a hotel. It was a castle.
"Holy shit," Mom muttered under her breath.
"Yeah," I agreed, my neck creaking as I looked up in awe.
We went into the lobby, which was a large courtyard open to the sky; only the seating areas and front desk were covered with stone archways. A sign saying 'Novak Stoczniowców Braciz' and an arrow pointing through an arched double doorway showed us the way. We went through the doors and down a long stone hallway lined with antique furniture, paintings of green countryside, and suits of armour. Muted classical music played in the background and as we approached two huge wooden doors we were welcomed by a man and a woman both in black tie who opened them for us.
On the other side of the doors, we came to a halt. A line-up of formally-dressed people, including some Bluejacket team members, were waiting to be welcomed one at a time by Novak executives. We joined the line-up and waited our turn, my mom ushering me ahead of her.
The Novak team greeted every guest; Martinius waited at the very end. Antoni was also there, nearer the front of the line. I assumed Antoni's placement was in accordance with his authority within the company. The fact that he was in the line-up in the first place was already impressive to me.
When I got to Antoni, he took my hand warmly and bowed to kiss it. He showed me no special treatment but was perfectly polite. Trust him to be the consummate professional. "Welcome, I'm so happy you're here. Thank you for coming," he said to me squeezing my small, cool hand in his big warm one and smiling down at me.
"Thanks, um, you too," I said. I kicked myself inwardly for not having thought of what to say ahead of time. By the time I got to Martinius, after greeting a dozen more people in the welcoming committee, I had finally pulled my words together.
Martinius took my hand and looked me square in the eyes. "You know you'll always be welcome here, Targa. Come home anytime you wish," he said, squeezing my hand in a fatherly manner.
"Thank you Martinius, that's very kind. Congratulations on finally achieving your goal. I'm very happy for you," I said.
I noted with sadness that his hand trembled in mine and his head shook ever so slightly. It wasn't nerves. It was age. I had never noticed the tremor before and I wondered just what the project had cost him physically and mentally. He had never shown his stress but there must have been a lot at stake for him both professionally and personally.
"Thank you my dear. Without you and your mother, it never would have happened," he replied generously, patting my hand and then letting me go to greet my mother.
I was distracted from listening to their exchange when it hit me that he'd intentionally referred to his estate as my 'home'. It made me wonder if he still didn't fully believe that my mother wasn't Sybellen.
It warmed me all over to realize that by now, I did feel like this place was a second home. My heart ached when I thought about leaving. Would I ever come back? Would I ever see Antoni or Martinius again? Would I ever swim in the Baltic again?
I was about to ask my mother what Martinius had said to her when we entered the ballroom and I just barely kept my jaw from hitting the floor. The room was palatial. People milled about in gowns and tuxedos, making conversation and sipping champagne. It was all very civilized and I felt completely out of place.
As I looked out at the sea of white and grey hair, I realized that I was by far the youngest person in the room. Everyone looked like nobility. I even saw a few tiaras nestled in grey curls and princely red sashes cutting diagonally across masculine chests.
Elaborate crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and matching sconces lit the perimeter of the room. Tapestries and paintings hung on the stone walls while massive timbers criss-crossed over our heads. Round tables had been distributed throughout half of the room and set with eight places each. I had never seen tables so beautifully set with silverware, china, crystal and handwritten name cards. The presentation reminded me of the first dinner we'd had with Martinius, only this was even more sumptuous. Large flower arrangements which must have cost a fortune graced the centre of each table.
I came back to myself and turned to put my hand on Mom's arm, "What did Martinius say to you?" I asked her.
"He said thank you, and that he couldn't have done it without us," she replied. "You?"
"Much the same," I said. "Only he also said that I would be welcome home any time I liked." I emphasized the word 'home'.
>
"That was kind of him," my mom answered, and I couldn't tell if she'd had the same thought that I had about what his choice of words revealed.
I spotted the orchestra and realized with surprise that the classical music that had been playing in the background was actually live. A white video screen hung on the wall behind the orchestra and a vintage looking microphone had been set up in front of the conductor. The conductor had his back to the room and was moving his arms artfully to lead the music, his frazzled grey hair bouncing joyously.
"Look," my mom said, pointing to a far corner of the ballroom. Through a line of slowly moving people were tables but I couldn't see what had attracted the crowd. It couldn't be food because there was a sit down dinner to be served tonight, not a buffet.
"What is it?" I asked.
"It's artifacts taken from The Sybellen. Shall we go see?" She took my hand.
"Absolutely!"
My mother snagged two champagne flutes from a waiter on the way and handed one to me. "Just one," she said, giving me a smile. "To celebrate."
We clinked glasses and took a sip. The champagne was sweet and fizzy. I enjoyed letting the bubbles form on my tongue before I swallowed it down.
We approached the display and got in line. Spread out along four long tables covered in navy cloth were a plethora of artifacts which had been recovered from the The Sybellen. Each one included a label with a description - Old bottles of wine, vodka and cognac still with the corks in place, a dozen different kinds of coins of all different shapes, sizes, and metals. Heirloom earrings, bone china and silverware, candlesticks, knives, and pieces of armour.
"This is one of the hand carved chair backs that I was telling you about before," Mom said, as we approached an oddly shaped wooden carving.
If I hadn't known what it was, I'm not sure I would have figured it out. There was no seat or legs, only a slab of carved wood with two posts that would have attached it to its seat.
