by Aratare, X.
Nothing? Casillus laughed, clearly not believing him.
Nothing important, Gabriel answered stiffly. I’m not talking to you any more.
Why not? Have I said something to offend you? Casillus sounded genuinely concerned.
No! I mean … I’m sorry, though why I’m apologizing to myself I don’t know. But you aren’t real. You’re a voice in my head that has appeared because I suffered some kind of brain injury in the cave, Gabriel said to Casillus, though he was really saying it for his own benefit.
I see.
Good.
I see that you have been greatly wounded by your time among the humans and that—
No! No more talking! I’m not listening!
There was a soft huff of laughter from Casillus. That is all right, Gabriel. I will be here with you all the same. And when you are ready, all you need do is reach back to me.
Gabriel’s hands trembled at his sides. Another burst of Corey’s laughter had him balling his free hand into a fist. He plastered a smile on his face, opened the door, and strode inside.
Everything is fine. It is fine. JUST FINE.
“Gabriel, there you are!” Grace stood up from her spot at the head of the table.
The room was lit only by candlelight, which cast a golden glow over everyone in the room. Corey, his grandmother and a handsome older man already had plates full of food in front of them. The older man was undoubtedly Johnson Tims. Johnson was powerfully built and appeared to be in his late fifties. His arms were bulging with muscles that were impressive by any standard. He was ruggedly handsome, with a cleft chin and a shock of salt-and-pepper hair. He had on a neatly pressed pair of jeans with a green button down shirt.
Gabriel realized then that his grandmother was also dressed nicely. She wore a pale blue skirt and a scoop-neck cream colored top. She also had on a strand of pearls that he had never seen her wear before. He felt distinctly under-dressed, though that feeling abated slightly when he saw what Corey was wearing. His best friend had on one of his shocking orange and red tie-dyed shirts, a pair of banana yellow shorts and lime green flip flops. Gabriel’s questionable clothing choices weren’t that obvious compared to Corey’s.
“Yeah, sorry it took me so long,” Gabriel said with a sheepish rake of his hand through his wet hair. He quickly dried his hand off on his pants. He feared that any more moisture on his skin might cause a change. How could he explain sudden webbing between his fingers?
I thought this was all in your head? Casillus teased gently. How could your mind make other people see webbing between your fingers or gills on your sides? This is your delusion alone, isn’t it?
Gabriel flattened his lips and did not respond to those words.
“He had to make himself beautiful for us,” Corey laughed from his spot in the middle of the table. He was sitting with his back to the window. Gabriel knew that if it had not been dark out he would have been able to see the ocean over Corey’s shoulders. He was glad it was night. He had had enough of the water for one day.
“It’s good to finally meet you, Gabriel. I’ve heard so much about you,” Johnson said.
The older man stood up and stuck a massive hand out for Gabriel to shake. Gabriel took it and wasn’t surprised by Johnson’s crushing grip. The older man seemed like the type that judged a man’s masculinity by the strength of his handshake.
“Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Tims—or is it Dr. Tims? My grandmother speaks highly of you.” Gabriel was pleased that he sounded so normal.
“It’s doctor, but please just call me Johnson. I feel like we’re family even though we’ve just met,” Johnson said.
Gabriel gave a tight smile. He didn’t let people into his “family” so easily. And though it was petty, Johnson was sitting at the opposite end of the table from his grandmother, which was where his dad used to sit, and that just rubbed him the wrong way. There was a frisson of territoriality in Gabriel’s chest.
“I’ve been quite boastful about you, Gabriel,” his grandmother admitted.
Johnson settled back down in his chair while Gabriel sat across from Corey in the last empty spot. He couldn’t stop himself from looking over Corey’s shoulder at the windows. The glass only showed his reflection. Gabriel imagined, though, that he could feel Casillus out there bobbing in the waves.
Can you see me? Gabriel asked, breaking his vow not to talk to himself.
Yes, I can, Casillus said. You look tired. Beautiful, but tired.
Gabriel let out a gasp that he quickly covered up, but not quickly enough. Corey cocked an eyebrow up at his reaction. Gabriel gave him a goofy grin in response. Corey shook his head, clearly thinking that Gabriel was just being odd.
He has no idea, Gabriel thought.
He is human. He can never fully understand you, Casillus said.
That’s a conceit if there ever was one. God, do I really think that Corey doesn’t understand me? He understands me all too well!
He loves you. That is different than understanding you, Casillus suggested.
Gabriel shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was going to ignore Casillus again. He was going to be normal and participate at dinner. With those resolutions in mind he put the journal on the table. The worn cover looked right somehow in the candlelight. His grandmother’s gaze immediately dropped to it. Her eyes lit up with interest.
“Are you starting a new story, Gabriel? I absolutely loved Swimmers,” she gushed, mistaking the old journal for a notebook he was using to sketch out story ideas. She turned to Johnson and said, “As a librarian, you cannot know how gratifying it is to have a writer in the family!”
“Grace let me take a gander at your story, Gabriel. It was quite interesting.” Johnson’s slate gray eyes studied him over the top of his beer.
“Johnson doesn’t like romance,” Grace clucked.
“On the contrary, I liked his story just fine. It was quite well-written. It was the subject matter that interested me the most, of course.” Johnson took another gulp of his beer.
“Because of the Mers’ connection to the settlement?” Corey asked.
Johnson nodded. “It always fascinates me how the truth becomes hidden in tales.”
“You think there’s ‘truth’ to mermaids and mermen?” Grace teased.
Gabriel stiffened slightly. He forced himself to relax. Surely Johnson, with his gruff, no-nonsense exterior and military bearing, wouldn’t believe in Mers! But Johnson did not laugh like Gabriel expected him to.
“I keep an open mind,” Johnson finally said.
“Cool. I think being open-minded is the way to go.” Corey nodded thoughtfully.
“I like my mermen only in stories. And speaking of stories, do you have anything for me to read, Gabriel?” His grandmother looked at the journal expectantly again. “Have you started on a sequel to Swimmers?”
“This journal isn’t mine. It’s something I found in the basement that I thought you might like to see.” He slid it along the table to his grandmother. At the last moment he felt strangely reluctant to let it go, as if it would somehow reveal what had happened to him that afternoon. But he didn’t stop Grace from picking up the journal. She began to peruse the interior. Gabriel couldn’t drag his eyes away from her face. He kept expecting her to suddenly lift her head and say something about Mers.
She’s not going to do that. She doesn’t believe in them. There’s nothing in that journal which can harm me, Gabriel told himself.
You are shaking, Gabriel, Casillus said.
Gabriel realized that his hands were indeed slightly trembling. He clenched them into fists and hid them in his lap. How can you see that from the ocean? Let me answer that: you can’t, because you aren’t in the ocean, you don’t exist outside of my head.
I can see through your eyes. That is how I can tell you look tired. You can see your reflection in the glass, so I can as well. You can see your hands shaking, so I can.
You can see through my eyes? Gabriel almost jerked in his chair
again.
Just like you saw through mine in the shower, Casillus explained.
That was you?
Yes, Casillus said. Our minds can become one. Our senses can join.
I don’t believe that. It’s too …
What? Perfect? That is what you are thinking. That such a thing would be perfect, Casillus answered for him. A connection like that to another person—
Is a fantasy! Gabriel cut him off. If you really are a Mer, how do you even know what a shower is? And what about English? How do you know any of this if you’re a different species and hardly ever come on land?
There was a faint chuckle. I am not speaking in English or in any other language, Gabriel. Our minds are exchanging ideas. I know what these things are because you do.
If that were true and we are exchanging ideas, how come I don’t know anything about you? Gabriel challenged.
Because you have not fully transitioned. This is blocking our ability to join, Casillus stated. And … and your rejection of me and your true nature is not helping.
You have an answer for everything, don’t you? Gabriel resisted shaking his head again.
Because this is real, not a clever hallucination as you keep fearing? Casillus said.
Gabriel thought on that a moment. If this is real, and you have access to my mind, what about … about secrets? Where does your access stop and my privacy begin?
Why should there be secrets? Casillus sounded genuinely confused.
Lots of reasons! People have secrets—
Humans have secrets. Mers do not. You are a Mer.
He was distracted from Casillus when Grace suddenly let out a grunt of disgust as she read the flyleaf of the journal. “Samuel Braven. My God, I’m surprised you found this, Gabriel. I thought all of his things were destroyed.”
“Why would they all be destroyed?” Gabriel asked, unnerved by her sudden change of emotion. His right hand fluttered up to touch the kalish beneath his shirt. His fingers twitched over the cloth covered surface. He felt far calmer as soon as he touched it.
Her expression grew even more severe as she said, “Because Samuel Braven was a murderer.”
3
MER BLOOD
“You’re kidding, Grandma G!” Corey exclaimed, his fork freezing halfway up to his mouth. “You’ve got a murderer in the family?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Grace let out a soft huff of air. She then saw that Gabriel’s plate was still empty. “Eat something first, honey. This is not a pretty story and I don’t want you to lose your appetite before you even start dinner.”
“I’ll be all right,” Gabriel responded faintly. All Gabriel could think of was the things he had read in the journal about the creature and Samuel Braven’s final solution. Then he remembered Casillus’ words about why the Mers had stopped watching the Bravens to see if Mer blood showed up in later generations: there had been a great hurt.
Was this the “hurt” you talked about? Did Samuel Braven kill his wife and her lover? Gabriel asked. He knew that asking this question completely went against his belief that Casillus and the Mer weren’t real, but he couldn’t help himself.
Yes, but Aemrys was not killed. Only Tabatha was. Casillus sounded incredibly mournful.
“Let me fill up your plate, bro,” Corey said, and Gabriel nearly jumped. When he “spoke” to Casillus, the “real” world sort of grayed out and he lost track of what was going on.
“Ah, thanks.” He gave Corey an uncertain smile. He hoped he didn’t look as odd as he felt.
There was a platter of steaks sitting in the center of the table. Beside it was a plate piled high with ears of corn, their burnt husks letting out a delicious sweet, charred scent. A bowl of roasted red potatoes with caramelized onions completed the meal. Gabriel’s stomach growled despite the topic of conversation. Like a mother hen, Corey proceeded to take Gabriel’s plate and put a thick, juicy steak and a mound of steaming potatoes on it. He balanced an ear of corn on top. He set it down in front of Gabriel like it was a work of art.
Gabriel blinked at it. “I believe you gave me enough food here for thousands, Corey.”
“You’re looking a little thin there, Gabe. Got to keep you from fading away.” Corey sat back down and tucked into his even bigger portion with satisfaction.
Gabriel looked down at the meal. The savory smell of potatoes and onions wafted up to him. It looked delicious, but right then he wasn’t sure if he could eat anything.
Do Mers eat meat? What about fish? Or would eating fish be like cannibalism? Gabriel bit the inside of his cheek to stop the hysterical laughter that wanted to flow out of him.
We eat many things. What you have in front of you is new to me, though. I look forward to experiencing it with you.
Experiencing it with me? You’ll taste the meat and everything? Gabriel asked.
Yes, that is part of oneness, Gabriel.
Don’t you find this oneness intrusive? Aren’t you sick to death of knowing what everyone else is thinking and doing? How do you keep from going nuts from it? Gabriel couldn’t imagine being aware of all of that all of the time. It would drive him mad.
I do not experience everything everyone is doing, not in a direct way. But since I am close to you and wish to connect, I feel far more intimately what you are doing, Casillus explained.
You want to be close to me? Gabriel found the idea of being that connected to someone both interesting and unnerving.
Yes, Gabriel, you need my help. I wish to help you through the transition and take you home.
Oh, right, because you want to save me … that’s why you want to be close, Gabriel realized. Considering they knew next to nothing about each other it made sense, yet he felt a stab of regret that this was the only reason that Casillus was reaching out to him. Except he’s not real. So what does it matter what he says?
Gabriel’s attention was snapped back to the table when his grandmother let the journal fall shut. Her lips flattened. “What a sick, sick man. His hate radiates off the pages.”
“Who did this Samuel Braven kill, Grandma G?” Corey asked.
“He killed his wife,” she said succinctly.
“So he did kill her,” Gabriel whispered. Casillus had told him the truth.
It could have just been my mind making a lucky guess! Like Grandma said, anyone could feel the hate radiating off the pages of that journal, Gabriel thought.
Yes, that is true. Samuel Braven was a hateful, cowardly man, but that journal is not why I know what happened, Casillus said. Aemrys Liseas, Tabatha’s lover and your ancestor, told me what happened. All of the Mer know the tale. We share in each other’s pain as well as their joy.
If he told you in person then Aemrys must be pretty damned old considering this happened almost one hundred years ago, Gabriel objected.
He is over five thousand years old. Why is that important? Oh, I see, you think the Mer have a human lifespan, Casillus said.
All right, I’ll bite, how long do Mer live?
Forever, Gabriel, unless we are killed by violence.
Gabriel didn’t have a chance to be gobsmacked by that answer as his grandmother was talking to him. “You guessed what had happened from his journal alone, Gabriel?” Grace looked at him curiously.
Gabriel shifted in his seat to gain himself time to compose himself, but finally he got out, “At the end of his journal, Samuel wrote that there was only one choice left. I was pretty sure what he was going to do. I’m sorry I was right.”
His grandmother folded her hands under her chin and stared into the nearest candle flame. “His wife Tabatha had given birth the week before. Samuel murdered her and then drowned himself. The baby, thankfully, was not killed.”
“Holy cow!” Corey breathed, his big brown eyes filled with sadness.
“Are you sure Samuel killed himself?” Johnson’s gravelly voice broke the stillness that had descended upon the group.
“Well, he drowned. I suppose it could have been an accident,” she
said.
“There is another possibility.” Johnson’s penetrating gray eyes met hers over the table.
“What?” Gabriel asked.
“Murder,” Johnson answered.
Or justice. Casillus’ voice was grim.
“Who killed him?” Corey asked.
Yeah, who killed him? Gabriel found himself asking Casillus.
What was done was done out of necessity, Casillus said.
Johnson leaned back in his chair, his penetrating eyes going unfocused. “No one knows for sure what happened, of course. But there is a rumor that it was Tabatha’s lover. A man from the sea.”
You guys killed him? Mers killed him? Gabriel nearly gasped out loud.
He was a monster, Casillus answered succinctly.
Thinking back on what he had read in the journal, Gabriel tended to agree. He seemed pretty messed up in his journal.
Casillus’ voice reached out to him from the watery depths. Samuel was going to hurt the child that Aemrys and Tabatha had created together. Aemrys was too late to save Tabatha, but nothing on this Earth could stop him from saving his son.
His son? My ancestor … this is—this is too much. Gabriel ran a hand through his hair.
“How did you know about her lover, Johnson?” Grace asked, her eyes widening. “How did you know about Samuel and Tabatha Braven at all?”
Johnson’s lips twisted into an uncomfortable smile. “I did some research on you before I arrived in Ocean Side.”
Gabriel’s head jerked up. Research? What kind of research?
Grace’s eyebrows lifted into her hairline. “Research? On me?”
“On the Bravens.” Again, Johnson shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
“Why would you research our family?” Gabriel’s voice came out sharper than he intended.
“I had an idea of what we would find when Grace alerted Miskatonic about the settlement,” Johnson said.
“What does the settlement have to do with the Bravens?” Corey turned towards Grace and asked, “Do you guys have Native American ancestors?”