Come on, please, I thought.
“Well, if you’re sure it’s okay. I could use an extra pair of eyes.”
“What are you looking for?” I asked, dreading the answer and wishing I didn’t have such a big mouth.
But most of all, I was hoping—hoping Pavati would forgive me for using our son as bait.
34
GABRIELLE PETTIT
Danny Catron had been kind of a putz in high school, but he seemed to have filled out quite a bit since I saw him last summer at that horrible camping trip to Manitou Island. And I was glad to see his eyebrows had grown back. In a way, now that he was older, he looked a little like Jack. Same coloring, anyway. Different eyes, though. Who had blue eyes like that?
In fact, now that I thought about it, Catron wasn’t bad-looking at all. But there was something else—and not just his eyes or his mild resemblance to Jack—that kept my attention locked on him. Some distant memory of a fight. In the woods beyond the bent chain-link fence where kids went to light up in the morning before school.
Only about ten of us had gathered because the fight hadn’t been well advertised. Besides, it was a family matter. Brother on brother. Danny was getting the shit beat out of him, which wasn’t that interesting on its own, but the older brother said something that now, in retrospect, held possibilities.
“Mermaid,” he’d said. “Effing mermaid.”
Was it a coincidence Jack and Danny had both found their way to Lily Hancock? I doubted it. And what was with this baby?
“I’m babysitting for my cousin,” Danny said. “Want to give us a ride?”
The baby wriggled on the dock, head nestled in Danny’s well-worn Nike. His cousin must be a real piece of work to put him in charge of a kid that small. “Is that okay with its mom?”
“I’m pretty sure. His mom is a water enthusiast.”
Smooth, Catron. Okay. I’ll play along. We can see where this goes. “Well, if you’re sure it’s okay. I could use an extra pair of eyes.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Did you hear about my brother Jack?”
Danny’s face went slack, like he’d had a stroke or something, but his silence was all I needed. Obviously he knew all about Jack, and then some. I started up the boat and brought it up against the end of the dock. Danny handed me the swaddled baby, which felt surprisingly solid for something so small.
Danny picked up his shoes and threw them into the hull, stepping over the side rail. The bottom of his T-shirt was smeared with some yellow gunk. With my luck the baby was a puker.
Danny took the kid back from me right away. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. A dude with a baby. It was cute in a bizarre kind of way.
“So, you heard about Jack?” I asked again, since he didn’t show any sign of answering.
He swallowed and looked down at his feet. “I heard he died. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Where did you hear that? From Lily?” I folded my arms over my chest.
He shook his head, eyes still downcast. “It was in the paper.”
“The paper said he was missing. His body has never been found.”
“Oh. Right.” He nodded. “I guess I just assumed.”
“What would you say if I said I thought a mermaid took him?” I paused to let that sink in.
Danny looked up. His eyes flashed and he dropped onto one of the seats, his face turning a little gray. “I don’t know. That it sounds a little crazy?”
“Maybe.” I studied the lake surface that lay between the Hancocks’ dock and Madeline Island. “But where would two crazy people look for a mermaid?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
I sighed for effect. “You’re a terrible liar, Catron.” Then I turned back to face him and smiled consolingly.
Danny fidgeted on his seat and wrapped the blanket tighter around his little cousin, who’d fallen asleep. “I suppose I wouldn’t be looking along the shoreline,” he said. “I suppose I’d try deeper water.”
“Hey!” called a voice. Danny and I both jumped, and jerked our heads toward the darkened Hancock house. Lily’s little sister was running across the yard for the dock. “You guys going for a boat ride? Can I come, too?”
35
CALDER
There are some moments in life you plan for. You’ve imagined it so many times you have to remind yourself it hasn’t really happened. Not yet. Maybe not ever. And then all of a sudden, it’s a day like any other, maybe a Tuesday, and you’re standing in The Moment.
For me, it was like riding on top of a soap bubble. I barely breathed for fear it would burst, and I would fall to Earth, and my mother would see me for what I was: unworthy, floundering, and clumsy. Because for all my imaginings, I didn’t know how to do this.
I watched my mother through the window, seeing my own reflection superimposed over my view of her as she moved around the room, touching this, straightening that. Her hands … My God, I remembered her hands, and a small red box of raisins in them. I followed the fingers to the wrist, up the arm. Was this the right face?
She must have felt the intensity of my stare because she looked up, then paused—surprised—before her face broke into a smile. I followed as she waved me toward the blue door and turned the dead bolt. She left the Closed sign in the window.
I stepped inside, inhaling the rich scent of ground coffee beans and the sweet slip of sugar glaze. “Mom.”
Another pause, but this time accompanied by a jerk of her hand. My eyes followed her every movement.
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Boyd asked.
Without planning, I threw my arms around her neck. She staggered back from the force of my weight and caught herself against the table.
“Calder? What’s wrong? What happened?”
The scent of her was a time machine. I was three years old again, sobbing on her shoulder with no ability to make voice and teeth and tongue work together and give meaning to the sounds coming from me. I clung to her too tightly, and she tried to break away.
“Mom,” I said again.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Calder.” She shoved me, and I let go. “But I don’t appreciate it.”
“It’s me,” I said.
“Yes, I see that.” Her pinched lips told me she was both annoyed and embarrassed about how I was behaving.
“I’m Patrick.”
A flash of pink joy turned to black as her hands shook like aspen leaves. “Get out.”
“It’s really me.”
“Get out!” she demanded, louder.
“I’m Patrick,” I repeated, suddenly comprehending how ridiculous I sounded.
“Patrick is dead.”
“I’m alive. I can show you,” I said, pulling her toward the door.
She yanked back her hand. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know how you know about Patrick, or what you’re trying to do, but I want you to leave.”
A swirling array of color spun out of my former employer—my mom—like a box of melted crayons. She was crying. In my impulsiveness, I’d hurt her again. I didn’t know if I should step back or put my hand on her arm. I didn’t know if I should stay or run.
“It’s me,” I said again, as if the words should have been enough.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” she said, “or what you think you have to gain, but you don’t look anything like Patrick.” She searched my face. Perhaps hoping to find something to make her believe? “Your eyes are all wrong.”
“I can explain that,” I said.
“And you’re far too young to be my son.”
“I see,” I said, bowing my head. I gathered the bits of information I had that might convince her and hoped against hope that they’d be sufficient. “It was the Rhapsody in Blue. It was my uncles’ boat. I fell overboard, and Dad dove in after me.”
“You could have read that somewhere. Calder, why are you doing this?”
“Raisins,” I said.
&
nbsp; “Excuse me?”
“You gave me a box of raisins. Right before I fell out of the boat.”
“Impossible,” she murmured.
“Please,” I said. “Come with me down to the lake. I want to show you something.”
Her eyes widened and her jaw fell; her aura changed from confusion and grief to hope and possibility. She moved her shaking hands to cover her mouth and spoke through her fingers. “The Star of the Sea? The redheaded woman who sat with me on the rocks?”
I didn’t know what she was talking about, and I shook my head. “I don’t remember much else,” I said. “I don’t have anything more to convince you with.”
She laughed, startling me. “That’s the most convincing thing you’ve said so far. If this were a con, you’d have done better research.”
A smile pulled at the corners of my lips but quickly faded. “I want to take you to the lake. What I need to show you … I can only show you there.”
Her serious expression returned. “Because it’s her, right? She’s back?”
“Who?”
“The Star of the Sea. Our Lady.”
So all these years it was someone else she’d been hoping to see. I was going to be another disappointment.
“She appeared to me one day,” Mrs. Boyd said. “Years and years ago. She told me she’d send Patrick home. I didn’t believe her, of course, but still I prayed she’d keep her promise.”
Ah. Nadia. Lily was right all along.
“She did send me home,” I said slowly, hoping the weight of my words would convince her. “I’d like to explain. Please come with me, and I’ll show you.”
“But you’re still too young,” she said, doubt returning.
“I know, just please come.” I took her hand, and she stared at my fingers, running her thumb over the back of my hand.
“Too young,” she said, but she took a step toward the door.
I led my mom to the fishing pier by the playground and told her to wait, then I ran toward the trees.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
I turned and walked backward a few steps. “Just over there for a second. I’ll be right back.” But once I reached the trees, it took me longer to get up the courage than I had planned. What would she do? Would she scream? Would she run? I worried she’d get tired of waiting and head back to the café.
Deep breath. Deep breath. You have nothing to lose. Everything to gain. Nothing to lose. Deep breath. Don’t be a coward. This is your mother. Your mother. Deep breath.
After what seemed like hours, I waded into the lake, out of view but close enough to hear my mom walk the length of the pier, the creak of dry splinters under sensible shoes. In the near distance, I could hear the dull rumble of an approaching boat. I’d have to make this quick.
I submerged and swam underwater, making the transformation a hundred yards out, then swimming back to the shore head-on. When I surfaced, cutting through the bands of light and the disk of sunlight, she had left the pier and was standing on the shore. “What on earth are you doing out there?” Then her hand went to her heart. “Is the Lady here, too?”
“No,” I said. “Not anymore. Or … at least … not where we can see her.”
She smiled. Embarrassed. “Then get out of there before you catch your death of cold.”
I raised my hands from the water, palms facing her. “Not yet. I want to show you the reason why I don’t look the same, why I look too young.” I dove, flashing my silver tail in an obvious display, the kind of reckless thing I would normally never do so close to shore. When I came up again, she’d fainted dead away.
Gah! It was a completely stupid thing to do. What was I thinking? How could any mother accept a son like this?
“Mom?” I called, barely more than a whisper. I swam in and pulled her out to three feet of water. Maybe the cold would revive her.
When she came to, frantically blinking her eyes, I let her go and retreated a hundred feet so as not to scare her again. But this time, there was no fear in her eyes. Her face glowed with unrestrained amazement, a bright white light streaming from every pore. She burned with light as if she were her own solar system. A million stars against the dark water.
It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
36
MARIS WHITE
Below the spot where Lily and I swam, a crayfish was caught in some lost fishing line, the other end of which was tangled in a leaf. He was dragging it like a ball and chain. Lily surprised me with an ironic laugh that cut off all thoughts in my head. It wasn’t really funny, which told me how far Lily had fallen. Still, the human trill of her laugh reached my own hungry soul. There hadn’t been any good hunting yet this season.
When we were little, Pavati and Tallulah would try to copy the effervescence of a human laugh. They could rouse up only a hollow imitation. Not so with Lily, even though, right now, her laugh sounded more maniacal than joyful.
It struck me how Lily didn’t realize how powerful she could be. That was a good thing. I didn’t need another competitor, but I could use a follower. I didn’t know how everything got so out of hand. Wasn’t it just last spring I could turn Pavati, Tallulah, and Calder in whatever direction I wanted them to go? That was how it should have stayed. I couldn’t put my finger on the moment when I lost control.
Still, if I was losing Pavati, this Half was a good replacement. My dark colorations made me the better stalker, but just like Pavati’s blue shimmer, Lily’s color would make her the better lure. Beautiful. With that innocent expression that drew people to her. It would be a binge-worthy feast.
Pavati was proven and true in this regard. Given a choice, I’d prefer to stick with a tested hunting partner. If only that baby hadn’t interfered with what I’d spent years cultivating. What I wouldn’t do to subtract it from the equation.
When I refocused on Lily, I saw the cloud descend on her face. I could hear the cat-hissing static in her brain. She glowered at the crayfish now as if she wanted to destroy it.
“Why do you fight yourself?” I asked.
Lily covered her ears with her hands and shook her head. “I JUST WANT IT TO STOP!”
I drew closer. I meant it as a comfort. “You feel the worm inside your mind? Feel it twist? There is a cure for that, you know.”
Lily looked at me with a pained expression.
“Follow me,” I urged.
A low growl rumbled in Lily’s chest.
“That’s right. You were born for this life,” I said, low and soothing. “Human beings, they were born to sustain you in this life. It’s nature’s plan, Lily. There’s nothing wrong with being at the top of the food chain. You don’t have to apologize for being what you are.”
“I can’t,” Lily said, but it was a lie. She knew she could. In fact, she knew she would. “But I have to, don’t I? If I don’t, I will die right here. I can’t let my parents find me dead. That would be cruel. I couldn’t do that to them, so I will hunt for them. I owe them that much.”
I nodded. It was as good a rationalization as any.
“Don’t fight it,” I said, my voice falling deep and low, soft as velveteen. It was good advice. I could watch the urge aligning itself within Lily, see it tumbling over her vertebrae like water over a rocky, shallow creek, branching over her shoulders and down her arms to her fingertips.
Lily’s hands clenched and unclenched, seeking some invisible body. Her thoughts roiled like thunder, pounding out all other sound. Her legs gave way. The water came up to meet her face.
“Dive, Lily!”
It wasn’t so much a dive as a collapse. Lily crumpled, falling inelegantly into the water. Her skin split and tore, finally exploding in a riot of pink sequins. But it didn’t matter to me how she entered. What mattered was how she was going to leave.
I raced along beside Lily, pushing her forward. We listened to the sounds of the lake, but there was nothing human. No swimmers, and there was not enough wind for the slower-moving sailboats. Lil
y was already giving up. She was pathetic.
“Don’t give up so easily,” I coached. “They’ll come. There’s always someone.”
“No one’s in the water today,” Lily said.
“Then lure one in.”
“How?”
“Lily, you’re a stunningly beautiful creature. Do what comes naturally, but you’ll need to move fast. There can be no hesitation, or they’ll sour. Strike. As soon as the impulse hits, you must strike and dive.”
Lily groaned, imagining the feeling that would fill the empty recesses of her heart. To feel what she’d once felt so easily and taken for granted …
“Listen,” I said. “Someone is talking.”
“They’re not in the water.”
“No, but they’re close to it. You need only ask. They will follow you.”
The current pulled Lily’s hair across her face, and she drew her arm over her eyes to clear her view. She smirked at me with red lips. Then suddenly—like some supreme gift—the body behind the voice entered the water.
Lily and I both gasped with exaltation as a white-hot explosion of unrestrained joy burst from the woman, more exquisite than anything in recent memory.
“Strike!” I cried
Lily’s thoughts echoed back to me: “Yes!”
“Do not hesitate!” But then, from a different direction, a familiar scent flooded my senses … though not firmly rooted in my memory … Pavati’s child? Pavati’s child was in the water? How could this happen? My luck was finally changing. If I could do away with Pavati’s child, there’d be no more need for this silly standoff between us. Things could go back to normal. We could finally be a family again.
Pavati raced up from behind us, yelling, “No! He’s mine!”
Lily Hancock was all but forgotten.
37
PAVATI WHITE
A boat motored overhead, then pulled away, cutting the engine and dropping anchor some fifty yards from the pier. I waited for the customary fishing line to drop, but nothing happened. Instead of the leaden plunk and the thin, spiraling fizz of the sinker, there was the faraway sound of Maris and Lily talking. I groaned. Same old, same old. As soon as my back was turned, Maris was always right there, setting her hooks, making her play.