“How much longer?” I asked. We’d only been off the ferry for half an hour and were currently heading into the middle of nowhere.
“Three hours.” Grandma drove perfectly for someone who was probably suffering from dementia. “But it'll be a lot longer if you keep refusing to talk about it.”
I raised an eyebrow and searched for evidence of craziness: shifting eyes, twitches, shortness of breath, mutterings. “What's there to talk about?
“The fact that you're a sea-witch. You have yet to acknowledge the truth of what I told you.” Grandma shook her head the exact same way Mom did when she was disappointed in me. “I expected more from you, Vanessa Maxine. Though when you were born, I didn't expect anything at all since your mother didn't inherit the gene.”
I shook my head. “You're crazy...or kidding...or something. Witches don't exist.”
“So you crashed the car into the fire hydrant then? You dyed you hair with some awful chemical product purchased on the Internet?”
My temper flared. “No! Neither of those things were my fault.”
“Then explain them.” Grandma’s hands closed tightly around the steering wheel.
“I...I can't.”
“Because you're a sea-witch. Because you're one of a handful of magical creatures on this planet and, as such, things happen that you can’t explain.” She shifted her eyes to me for a moment. All I saw within their stormy blue depths was a clear, intelligent gaze.
“Are you trying to lighten the mood and make me feel better because I'm stuck living with you for an indefinite amount of time? Because—just so you know—I don't need you to lift my spirits. I'm perfectly fine being who I am: a completely normal, non-witchy-person. Just like my parents.”
She sighed deeply, steering the car around a curve on the road. “I'm trying to prepare you for what lies ahead.”
“You're trying to prepare me for trees, rocks and endless ocean? Because I've never seen any of that before.” I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. “I'm perfectly okay with nature if that's what you mean.”
“As a sea-witch, you'll need a few years to learn all the facets of your gift.” She spoke slowly, muffled, like she was talking through clenched teeth. “And it will take a while for you to adjust to the new feelings and emotions you'll experience. The hardest part will, of course, be adjusting to not being normal anymore, and guarding a secret identity you can’t tell anyone from your old life about. But the reward will be great. You'll work as I do; protecting the sea from harm.”
“Crazy...” I said in a sing-song voice.
Grandma growled softly. “This is the truth Vanessa; your truth.”
“Prove it,” I said, hoping to put an end to her nonsensical talk.
“Fine, if that's what you need in order to believe, I will.” Grandma veered left, turning off the highway and onto a side street. I slammed my hand into the door, trying to get purchase on anything I could in case she rolled the car—something she was likely to do at the speed she was going. But a short while later she slowed the car right down, and parked on the side of the road next to a deserted beach.
“Get out,” she said.
I looked fearfully at the abandoned expanse of sand. “No. I'm not getting out.”
“Get out.” She stepped out of the car, taking the keys with her. She slammed the driver's door. Cautiously, I followed her as she walked farther and farther out onto the beach. When she reached the edge of the water, she looked back at me, turned toward the ocean, raised her arms, and closed her eyes.
I watched her. Nothing happened. “This isn't what I'd call proof, you know.” I was just about to turn around and walk back to the car when I heard a crushing sound, which reminded me of my visit to Niagara Falls when I was eight.
The ocean rushed toward me, rising like a tsunami. I didn't have time to run. I didn't have time to take a single step before the water reached up and swallowed me whole. I panicked, fighting to reach the surface through the cold, wet blanket of the sea.
I barely had time to wonder if Grandma knew I couldn't swim.