When, at last, he found me.

by Adrianna Stepiano

  Bottom line: Joseph lied.

  We drove along the coast. The water was rough and dark; unwelcoming. Only minutes before it was calm and peaceful. I hated it; the ocean was my enemy again—I felt betrayed and wanted to be far from it. For a long time, we didn’t speak.

  Ethan broke the silence. “I’ll consider that perhaps Joseph is hiding a few bits and pieces of the truth from us. But, can you accept that he’s not as horrible as you’re making him out to be?”

  Could I accept? I had been acknowledging things that were scientifically impossible. The existence of merpeople was something that I suddenly had to admit. Could I consider that Joseph wasn’t a horrible person? I didn’t want to.

  “Phin. You’re being stubborn.” Ethan stopped the car in the middle of the road. Cars behind us squealed and swerved as horns blared with anger. We were stopped along Route 3, a two-lane road that ran along the coast from Bar Harbor all the way to Northeast Harbor. The car sat on the bridge where Long Pond met Bracy Cove.

  “You’re not thinking logically.” Ethan spoke with a sense of calm. “You need to think about this. Really think. Don’t let your emotions get in the way.”

  Cars drove around us; a driver shot foul looks in our direction.

  I could not admit that what I saw was a mistake.

  “SeraPHIN!” That was the first time Ethan used my full name. It was startling and I gave him my attention. “You can’t do this. You don’t know all the details. We need Joseph and Nasani.”

  “We need them for what? Obviously, our initial objective has changed. Ms. Z no longer needs to be rescued.” My arms were folded over my chest like a stubborn child.

  “How can you be so sure? What if she still needs help? Ms. Z has always been there for you. Even if you don’t trust Joseph, the least you can do is trust in her.”

  Darn it. He was right. Ms. Z remained a loyal friend—unless I considered the fact that she knew I was a mermaid and never said a word about it. Though, she was probably doing me a favor; I wouldn’t have believed anyhow. Perhaps I was being misled—but not by Ms. Z, I decided. She would never do such a thing.

  Joseph was strange when we met. He stalked me for days after—showing up randomly. During one of the first arguments we had, he admitted to being jealous of the time Ms. Z devoted to me. When asked, he would not disclose any details relating to her disappearance—could the kidnapper be Joseph? And I still couldn’t shake Gianni’s words. Joseph was no friend. “Ethan, you’re right.”

  “I’m glad you’re seeing things a little clearer. Let’s go back to your house so we can pick up—”

  Before Ethan could finish I climbed out of the car.

  “—Phin! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

  I perched myself along the railing of Route 3. Below, a twisted whirlpool churned. A few weeks prior, I would have blacked-out at such a sight.

  Ethan opened the driver side door and was standing in the flow of traffic. Horns and profanities blared. A man driving by hollered. “Lady, you’re crazy.”

  The word crazy didn’t touch the way I felt. My life was ignominious. I had turned into a fantasy—any 5-year-old girl would give everything to be me. . But however outlandish it was, being a mermaid was my reality. I had to face it. I was through being manipulated. Yes, Joseph helped me to discover who I was—but my life did not belong to him. As a matter of fact, he needed me more than I needed him. The relics had been given to me; I am my father and now my mother’s secret. I recalled Joseph’s words the night before. My parents knew I was a Guardian. In a way, that fact solidified everything. I was no longer just a scared girl. “Here’s something even crazier; I am Guardian of the Sea, chosen to protect. It’s time I started living my ludicrous life.”

  Falling into a backward dive, I spread my arms wide. As I cut through the surface of the water a hysterical laugh rang through my head. It was my own. Transforming easily; I powered toward Great Cranberry Island. Sounds, scents and sonar came from all directions. I ignored them all—nothing could take my focus off of the island. The message my father left was clear thanks to Orin. I knew the place he referenced. We spent hours collecting the low bush cranberries year after year. The seeds grew best in his favorite place to pick—that is where I would find the relics. I was certain.

  It took minutes before the island was in sight. The bottoms of research vessels lined the boardwalk that ran along the CORE property. I avoided that area—my destination was on the other side of the island. Only a few homes remained but most of the shoreline opposite CORE was vacant, waiting to be developed. When I reached the rocky beach, I was careful that no wandering eyes watched when I emerged from the surf.

  “Alright Dad—it’s just you and me now.” I muttered while trekking though the overgrowth covering a once maintained path leading to an abandoned house. The house from the photo—I was close to our cranberry gathering site.

  The rocks and twigs covering the ground created a rough surface and a sharp edge sliced the bottom of my foot. The lack of shoes was another downside to traveling by sea—so much of the lifestyle was inconvenient. Blood seeped from the wound. I had nothing to bandage it with. I continued on—a bit crazed. Limping, I made my way to the site my father referred to. Low-bush cranberry plants littered a large clearing—though none were ripe, they held lush green leaves and the beginnings of berry-buds. I nearly melted at the sight. Memories came flooding back and any anger I held turned to sorrow.

  An enormous flat boulder—20 feet in diameter sat just above the earth. I made my way to it. Years had no effect there. A picnic lunch atop the rock; a game of tag in the neighboring field; and a roll down the hill that seemed so much bigger years ago—I closed my eyes and there we were. I envisioned my father and I living our lives, our once ordinary lives. “Why here? Why did you have to bring me back to this place?” I whispered to my father. Pains of loss stabbed.

  A low breeze blew. Gentle arms wrapped around my waist. Joseph was holding me. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know he was there. We were connected—my body knew his—there was no other way to explain the feeling of his touch.

  “You lied.” I said—my eyes remained closed.

  He didn’t speak. Instead he placed his head against the nape of my neck. I felt the wet of his hair.

  “I don’t need you.” My mood was a bit combative and the stubborn side was not ready to forgive. A truer statement would have been I don’t want to need you.

  Still, he remained silent though he held me tighter.

  “Have you nothing to say for yourself?” I turned to face him but instead gasped at the sight of his battered face. Blood dripped from his eyebrow and mouth—his eyes were nearly swollen shut. I took his hands into mine; his knuckles were raw and bloodied, claw marks ran down his arms. “Joseph? Who did this to you?”

  He only shook his head.

  I shouted. “ANSWER ME.”

  His head jerked up.

  Before I knew what was happening he was pulling me through the field telling me to run. I tried to pull my arm from his grip but it was no use—he would not let go or slow down. Crazed he looked toward the shoreline—a loud screech came from the clearing. Joseph ran faster; nearly dragging me as I stumbled over the rough brush with my injured foot.

  We were only a few feet from the shore when a whirlwind surrounded us. Joseph continued pulling towards the water. Sand and pebbles pelted at my skin. The force of the wind was direct—like a weapon. He stumbled and I tripped over him; we both lay flat on the rocky sand—the water washed over my right arm. Joseph still gripped my left. His body lay twisted and bruised.

  Another loud screech filled the air.

  Joseph tried to stand but his knees buckled. He let go of my arm. “Go.” He mumbled.

  I knew we were in danger. The screeching was not human—nothing friendly could have made such a horrid sound.

  Our eyes connected. For the first time panic filled his. I lifted mine to see three winged creatures. They flew side-by-side and when the cen
ter creature lifted her wings, the outside creatures dropped theirs. Beautiful was an understatement. Their bodies covered with a coat of creamy white feathers—like three clouds moving swiftly through the sky.

  The screeching turned to a soft melody that was calming. I relaxed at the sound. Time slowed and even though the wind remained violent—it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Joseph was crawling on his elbows—dragging his lower body though the sand. He was shouting—I smiled. He was handsome—I wondered if he liked the flying ladies. Drunk with pleasure, I asked him, “Do you like them? I do. They’re so pretty.”

  He continued to shout but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  Like a dream, Ethan appeared.

  I wondered if Ethan liked the flying ladies. He ran past me, into the water. It didn’t matter if he liked them. Everything was going to be wonderful—I could just feel it.

  The sand moved underneath my body—the cool rush of water and Ethan’s arms around me. He was pulling me into the water—but I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay and listen to the bird ladies sing. They were singing for me. Ethan was too strong. I struggled to get away but failed.

  The instant my head dipped below the surface of the water, reality reared. Joseph was lying on the beach—blood pouring from his wounds. Ethan held his breath and would soon need air. I had been tricked by their melody—they put me in a peace coma. The world was falling apart and they made me forget all my worries. What magic was this?

  Their sharp talons fit claw marks on Joseph’s arm.

  I tried to get a closer look at the creatures; lifting my head above the water. Ethan pulled me down—pointing to his ears and shaking his head. I resurfaced again, making sure to keep my hands over my ears. Ethan broke the surface, took a deep breath and went back under.

  I watched the middle creature tuck her wings and fly dangerously close to Joseph on the beach. He took a handful of sand—throwing it in her face. She pulled back in anger but then reached out blindly with her claw; slashing his back. His body arched in pain.

  My heart screamed. No.

  The other two creatures tucked their wings. They were preparing to attack—I had to stop them before they killed him.

  I concentrated on the anger; on the ache. The sky turned dark—churning with thick black clouds. Hurricane force winds moved in from the ocean, as the waves built a wall behind me. “Hang on Ethan. Things are about to get rough.” And I meant it. The power of the storm was revitalizing. My guard fell. All the years of blacking out—protecting myself from the terrifying emotions—meant nothing. The only thing that mattered was the man who needed my help—the man who had helped me so many times—I owed Joseph.

  The creatures found it difficult to maintain their flight—they landed on the beach, just a few feet away from their target. Black clouds billowed and hail began to fall—pelting the attackers. Nothing distracted them from Joseph. Who was I fooling? I was no match. I was making things uncomfortable but I wasn’t yet a threat.

  They surrounded Joseph—he didn’t cower. Though his eyes showed fear his actions were brave.

  I ran—Ethan ran. We were side-by-side. He was shouting. “PHIN! The waves!” He stopped.

  I stopped. We were 20 feet from where we started but the ocean was still only inches behind. The waves swirled and crashed at my ankles. The water seemed to be attached—but I didn’t have time to figure it out. Joseph needed us.

  Focusing on his eyes, I dove through the white feathers. He reached out his arms, grabbing me and falling—the wave swallowed us all. White feathers blurred—angry screeching bubbled from their mouths. The three creatures tried to escape the surf but Ethan pulled at their wings, legs or whatever else he could grab hold of.

  I sheltered Joseph’s injured body with mine. Claws met my skin only once but the pain was excruciating. It wasn’t hard to imagine what Joseph had gone through before he met me on the island. I cringed when I thought about the pain he must have been in.

  The water moved us out to sea.

  The creatures had enough and as Ethan grew weary he released them one at a time. They shot out of the water like cannons. He surfaced.

  Joseph and I floated in each other’s arms. His eyes were closed. I traced his swollen face—his lips parted under my fingertips. He mouthed ‘thank you’.

  I wanted to lean in closer—but his lies kept me back. My heart sought to forgive but my head reminded of his betrayal.

  We kicked to the surface, both silent until we broke through. Ethan was only a few feet away. He was waving his fist in the air, taunting the creatures to come back and fight. They were far off in the distance—fleeing to safety.

  “Ethan, don’t invite them back. Let’s be satisfied knowing we scared them away for now.” I urged.

  Joseph clung to me. He could barely hold his head up. His eyes opened and closed sporadically and when he finally spoke it was to ask for Nasani. There was nothing more I could do for him. My powers stopped there. We needed her.

  Ethan helped me bring Joseph to the house I passed earlier. We knocked and no one answered; Ethan kicked in the door. It was clear the house had been vacant for a long time.

  Joseph collapsed onto the floor.

  Ethan gave me a weary look—worried for his friend. “I’ll get Nasani. You stay with him. Try to stop the bleeding.” He left.

  I stared at the broken man sitting before me. “Joseph.”

  He lifted his head. Sadness filled his eyes.

  “Don’t die, please,” I knew it was an empty request that neither of us could promise true.

  A crack of a smile slipped through his swollen mouth and his eyes lightened just a little.

  I looked around the house, gathering a few items that had been left behind; a large beach towel and a blanket. I tried the faucet but no water flowed. Returning to Joseph, I spread the blanket on the pine floor; a poor attempt at adding a little comfort to his aching body.

  He lay on his side—exposing his raw, bloodied back. It was all I could do not to wince at the sight. Three distinct and deep claw marks ran the length of his body. I tore the towel into smaller pieces of cloth to bandage his injuries.

  “Does it look as bad as it feels?” He asked weakly.

  Blinking back my tears and swallowing hard I tried to hide my fear. “Nothing Nasani can’t fix.” I assured him though we both doubted my optimism.

  The day passed; Joseph slept and I worried. Outside a light drizzle consistently fell—I wondered if it was a result of my sadness. Occasionally he would moan with pain. I’d rush to his side though there was nothing I could do to ease it.

  He watched as I paced the room. Joseph wasn’t the only one hurting though he was by far the most critical patient. The cut on my foot burned and so did the scratch from the creature’s claws that ran down my arm.

  “Seraphin, you’re hurt.”

  Disputing his claim, I tried not to limp but it was difficult. The last thing I wanted was for him to be concerned with me.

  It was not the time to ask about Ms. Z, though it consumed my thoughts. He was in no shape to speak at length about anything—rest is what he needed. I’d question him after Nasani worked her magic.

  Night fell and there was still no sign of Ethan and Nasani. The side of the island that we were on was remote and no streetlights lit the way. I worried that they would not be able to find us in the dark. The rain drizzled as I continued to agonize.

  Finally I sat near Joseph on the blanket. He had fallen back to sleep and his breathing was labored. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. The loss of blood was great—I feared for his life. Taking his head, I lifted it carefully onto my thigh. Running my fingers through this hair I wondered why the creatures would attack Joseph with such fury. They were the women in Orin’s vision—that much was certain. I prayed that they would stay away until Nasani arrived.

  I shifted my weight, bending at the knee and pulling my foot closer. He turned his head, my fingers continued to mindlessly twist his wavy hair.
I didn’t notice when he reached his hand to my foot and could barely hear the low humming. After everything he had been through, he was doing for me the one thing I couldn’t do in return. The wound on my foot slowly began to close—the stinging stopped. I felt a force push from the bottom of my foot, up my leg, through my torso until it found the wounds on my arm.

  I pleaded with him. “Stop—don’t waste your energy.” My words meant nothing; he continued to hum his healing tones. I wanted to do the same for him even though it was impossible.

  The wounds on my arm closed—I could feel the power that Joseph used. I willed it to my hand. Placing my fingers to his battered face, the healing energy moved through my body and into his. I was a conductor. With my help, he was healing. The cuts closed, the swelling went down and the bruising of his face began to fade but those were only his minor injuries. I wanted to help heal his back where blood continued to seep. My hands moved to the nape of his neck, the Rune of the Sea was glowing.

  Joseph caught on to what was happening. The tones grew deeper and more intense. He summoned with meaning—sitting up and baring his back to me. As he bent forward his hands reached, grabbing my legs and folding them around so my feet rested across his lap. The energy continued to move from his hands to my feet, through my body; finally escaping out of my hands, like a complete circle.

  I wanted to heal him—to feel his energy. Placing my right hand between his shoulder blades and my left hand just above his tailbone, I focused on drawing out his pain. His back arched, his head threw back; resting on my shoulder. Our cheeks touched and my face vibrated from the deep moans that came from his throat. I was supporting his weight and we were perfectly balanced.

  My eyes closed. The clear colorless waves moved around our bodies—though they were not the same ones I saw when he healed me on the shoreline or in the cavern under the Gulf of Taranto. They were more intense—intimate curves intertwined between the silhouettes of our bodies. Dark lines were being pulled from his wounds—disappearing into the tangled web of healing energy. When there were no more dark lines to pull, Joseph slowed his humming to a whisper and then to a stop. We remained still for several minutes, just breathing each other in. As I began moving away, his body twisted and his arms reached—pulling me around onto his lap.