Son of a Mermaid (11 page)

Six soda cans, three water bottles, a tangle of balloon strings with one lonely balloon still attached, a small gray sand shovel, four lids to Styrofoam coffee cups, an empty plastic container marked ‘fresh bait’ with black marker, and five wooden fishing lures in various hues.

Shea went over the list of the morning’s trash again in his head, squinting his eyes against the glare. The bright sunshine sparkled upon the river’s surface as the water rushed back from the ocean, the swift current creating streams of light out of the reflected brilliance.

“I love watching the tide come in,” Hailey said. The pair sat on the edge of the dock, their bare feet dangling inches above the rising surface. Fishing poles and sandals lay behind them as the pair sat mesmerized by the flowing water. “It’s as if the river has been out to play in the ocean and is now rushing home for lunch.”

He elbowed her side and laughed. “You think about food all of the time, you know that?”

She turned to grin at him. “I’m food deprived. Have I told you my mom can’t cook?”

“Only forty million times. And I’ve only known you about a week!” He paused, watching a seagull wheel overhead. “Finding all those wooden lures this morning really made me want to go fishing. You didn’t have to tag along.”

“I wanted to,” Hailey insisted, turning her face upward to watch the same gull. “Fishing is a good Cape Cod experience, and it gets me out of the house. Chip has been awful to live with lately.”

“He still doesn’t like it here?”

Hailey shook her head. She stood up on the dock and pulled her hot pink shirt over her head, revealing a plain, black one-piece Speedo underneath. “C’mon, Shea, let’s jump in and swim.” She shimmied out of her shorts, dropping the clothes in a heap on the wooden dock before cannonballing into the river.

He threw his arm across his face to block the splash, laughing. “That’s okay, I’ll sit here and watch you drown. I told you, I can’t swim.”

With an exaggerated pout pulling her mouth into a frown, Hailey swam back toward him. “It’s no fun alone. Help pull me back onto the dock.” He stood and bent to help her, but she gave his arm a hard tug and he toppled into the river beside her.

The blue-green coolness swirled around him as he tumbled down through the water, arms and legs flailing helplessly as he struggled to hold his breath. Somehow he managed to get his head over his feet, but still he descended into the murky depths.

Millions of air bubbles traced the path of his body, the precious oxygen escaping from his clothing and through his nose.

He hadn’t been kidding at all when he told Hailey he couldn’t swim. Suddenly, he realized he was inside one of his nightmares, but this time he was really drowning!

Eyes wide with panic, he clawed helplessly at the water as a huge school of minnows parted down the middle to swim around him, surrounding him like a wall on either side. Turning his face upward to the surface, he could still see Hailey’s legs kicking above him as he sank further and further under the water. He’d had no idea the river was this deep! How would he ever get back to the surface?

His throat and lungs burned from the effort of holding his breath. Darkness pressed hard against his eyes as he sank deeper, swirls of strange colors dancing in front of him as his whole body strained against the sudden lack of oxygen
.

I need to breathe
, he thought desperately, his whole body feeling like it was on fire
. This isn’t a dream. I’m going to die!
His flailing limbs slowed their movements as his feet finally hit the mucky river bottom and came to a stop.

He pressed his eyes tightly closed as an image of his father went through his head. Next to his dad, he saw the face from his dream. The blonde woman he now knew was his mother, but who looked like a mermaid. He was afraid to open his eyes, in case she was really there in the water with him.

His head pounded as searing pain ripped through his throat, as if his throat was going to tear open any second from the effort of holding his breath. Finally he opened his eyes, expecting to see her there by his side. Smiling at him. Reaching for his hand.

Nothing. Nothing but the swaying fronds of seaweed reaching up from the mucky river bottom, tangling themselves around his bare shins. There was no mermaid to save him. He was going to die.

Finally, the pain was too great. He couldn’t bear it any longer. He gave up trying to fight and opened his mouth to exhale the stale air that pounded like a jackhammer in his lungs. Large bubbles rushed to the surface as he struggled to breathe, but there was no air on the river bottom, only water, which filled his mouth and lungs.

And somehow felt like fresh air to his exhausted body.

I can breathe under water?

He took a second deep and satisfying breath, not understanding how such a thing could be possible.
I’m breathing water!
Maybe this is how drowning feels.

His head pounded and his body felt like it was on fire… But he was breathing. Water. He sucked big mouthfuls in and out, faster and faster, realizing he wasn’t going to die after all.

Not…going…to die…
his eyes rolled backward and he drifted into shocked unconsciousness.

Slowly his eyes fluttered open, but Shea closed them again quickly to block out the bright sunshine burning his face. A shadow moved in to block the beams of light and Shea cracked one lid open again to check his surroundings.

“Welcome back, buddy,” Hailey said softly, her face hovering over his, her hand gripping onto his shoulder. There were tears in her eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice cracking with the effort. He was lying flat on his back, and could feel sand under his hands and feet. He must be on the shore, but how?

“You sunk to the bottom like a rock,” she told him. “I guess you really can’t swim. I had to go down there and pull you back up. You weigh, like, a ton.”

“I told you I couldn’t swim.” He grimaced, raising a hand to his forehead. It felt like someone was trying to split his skull open with an axe. “The pain was awful,” he said, looking away from her concerned face and out at the river.

The tide was rushing in even faster than before, creeping up the bank closer to where he lay. Slowly he pushed himself up into a sitting position and pulled his feet away from the water’s edge, as if the lapping waves might cause him more pain. He wiped his cheek against his shoulder, and looked down at his shirt in surprise. “I’m soaked!”

Hailey laughed, her eyes still glued to him. “No kidding, Sherlock. You fell in the river. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“No, you don’t get it. Gramma’s going to be seriously pissed at me. I’m not supposed to go in the water. Period.” Forget all the nightmares about drowning. At the moment, he was more scared about incurring Martha’s disapproval.

“No problem,” Hailey said, rising to her feet and brushing the sand off her knees and shins. “I mean, it could be worse. You could be dead.” She frowned. “We can borrow some clothes from my brother. And by the way, you’re welcome.”

Shea shook his head as he stood, putting a hand on Hailey’s shoulder to steady himself. His body felt weak, as if he’d been on a ten-mile run. His head felt funny. “Welcome? Do I need to thank you? For what?”

“For saving your life, dummy.” Hailey eased herself out from under his hand and pushed her way through the tall sea grass growing up the riverbank.

Shea stood on the sand a few more moments, staring out at the sparkling water. Could she seriously be upset that he wasn’t more grateful? “You’re the one who pulled me into the water to start with,” Shea grumbled. “Why am I supposed to thank you for that?”

At the top of the hill they veered back toward the wooden dock where their poles and the tackle box still lay in the sun. Hailey walked straight past the equipment and sat down on the edge, dangling her feet in the water. He followed, the rough wood of the dock feeling solid and comforting under his muddy feet.

She cleared her throat. “So, umm, I hate to bring this up,” she started without looking at him, “but you were underwater for a really long time. Probably five minutes. Or more. You’re very lucky you didn’t drown.”

“What do you want from me? I told you I can’t swim,” he said sharply, still a little hazy on the details of what had happened. He thought he remembered breathing in the salty water
. No
, he told himself,
that can’t be right
.

“Hello? I saved you didn’t I? Only… ” Her mouth clamped shut, her sentence unfinished.

“I don’t know what happened either,” he said, not wanting to think about it anymore. “I held my breath as long as I could and passed out. And I guess you saved me just in time. Can we fish now?”

He turned his back on her and opened the tackle box, taking out a Styrofoam container of sea worms. He wanted to focus on something normal.
Fishing is normal. Breathing underwater is not.

Pulling one of the bristly creatures free of the writing mass, he squeezed the head tightly so the worm’s mouth gaped wide open. Rows of tiny razor-sharp teeth glistened in the sunlight.

“Those are so nasty,” Hailey said, the disgust evident on her face. The ugly worms succeeded in changing the topic of conversation away from Shea. “They don’t even look like worms as much as prehistoric hairy snakes.”

“Yeah, but the river is salt water, so regular earthworms or night crawlers would be useless,” he explained, relieved to talk about fishing and not about his near-death experience. He carefully pushed the fishing hook in past the two rows of teeth and down into the worm’s belly. “Gramma showed me how to hook them the right way, so they don’t latch on to your fingers.” As if that were the most dangerous thing that could happen to him today
. Forget about drowning, who wants a sea worm biting off a chunk of finger?

“How does she know how to fish?” Hailey asked as he handed her the baited rod. She held it carefully so the worm dangled far from her body.

He shrugged, the wet shirt clinging to his torso exaggerating the gesture. “She knows everything about the ocean.” He reached into the bait container again and started skewering another sea worm onto his own hook.

“Your hair already looks dry,” Hailey commented. “Must be the bright sun. Maybe if you hang your shirt over the dock railing it’ll dry quickly, too.” She cast her line into the water. “I don’t know what to tell you about the shorts, but if your hair and shirt are dry maybe your grandmother won’t notice the rest.”

“I guess so.” He put his fishing pole down on the dock to strip the shirt off, revealing chest muscles still hardened from long hours of farm work. The sun had tanned his face, neck and arms to a warm brown, but the color stopped abruptly mid-bicep, where his sleeves normally hung.

Hailey’s eyes widened as she laughed. “It looks like you’re wearing a white t-shirt now!”

“Ha, ha,” he said and stuck his tongue out at her. He hung the shirt over the rail and sat next to Hailey at the end of the dock, picking up his fishing rod in the process.

“I didn’t realize you had so many…muscles,” she said, still staring openly at his chest. “Did you used to work out, or play sports, or what?”

He shook his head. “No time. Running a farm takes a lot of work.”

“Hey, what’s on your back? Seaweed or mud?” She reached over to wipe the brown smudge.

“It’s a birthmark.” He flinched, pushing Hailey’s hand away. “It’s been there forever. The kids at school used to tease me about it.”

“Why?”

“They called it the mark of the devil, since it’s shaped like a pitchfork.”

“Let me see,” she insisted, craning her head around to get a better look. He flinched again under her gaze, but let her look. He knew the six-inch long brown patch between his shoulder blades would be starkly visible against his white skin. He’d seen it in the mirror, and knew it clearly resembled a three-pronged fork.

“Maybe not a pitchfork so much as a trident, since the middle prong is longer than the other two,” Hailey observed. “See?” She traced the mark with a finger, sending a shiver down his spine. “Kinda cool.”

“It’s not cool, it’s embarrassing. I always get teased, so I keep my shirt on.” There was a long stretch of silence as he cast his line into the water alongside Hailey’s. Finally he asked, “What’s a trident, anyway?”

Hailey squinted her eyes. “You know, from Greek mythology? Poseidon, god of the ocean, carried one around with him to zap the bad guys.”

“We didn’t do any mythology in school.” He shrugged. “At least, not in my classes. They cover that in tenth grade English, I think.”

“Well, we learned it in eighth in New York,” She closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to remember what she’d learned. “Poseidon was one of the gods from Mount Olympus. When they defeated the Titans, Poseidon claimed the oceans as his domain.”

“So he’s like King of all the oceans?” Shea smiled. “And I have his mark on my back? I guess that’s kinda cool.”

“Way cool,” Hailey said, nodding. “My teacher said Poseidon was really powerful, and the Greeks totally worshipped him. He divided his kingdom among his children, marking them all with the trident symbol. Maybe that’s why you didn’t drown,” she added with a laugh.

“So I’m marked by the gods.” Shea’s face brightened as he slowly reeled in his line to cast again.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Hailey said, “because once you get a tan no one will even notice the birthmark. All they’ll see are these wimpy muscles.” She flicked his bicep with a finger.

He pushed against her shoulder and laughed as she leaned too far to get away and almost lost her balance. “It’d serve you right if you fell in the river.”

“Yeah,” she retorted, still smiling. “But I can swim.”

***

They sat together on the dock quietly, lines dangling in the water. The only tugging came from the insistent current, still bringing the tide in from the ocean. A salty breeze stirred the air, flapping Shea’s drying shirt against the railing. Two gulls circled overhead.

Hailey broke the silence. “How come you don’t know how to swim?”

He shook his head. “No oceans in Oklahoma.”

“Give me a break,” Hailey said, frowning. “I’m sure there were pools and rivers and lakes and swimming holes, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he agreed, turning his head away from her.

“So how come you almost drowned today?”

He shrugged his shoulders and raked his fingers through his dry hair, now stiff with salt. “There was never any time, what with running the farm and all. And besides, my dad said he’d had enough of swimming to last a lifetime. He grew up here, you know.”

“Yeah, I figured that out for myself,” Hailey retorted. “Since your Gramma lives here. But it seems kind of irresponsible not to teach a kid how to swim.”

Shea wasn’t sure how to respond. He’d asked his dad lots of times over the years, but always got the same response. Now he wondered if there was more to his father’s reluctance. The silence stretched between them, each lost in thought. A sudden tug on his fishing line almost jerked the pole from his hands. “Whoa, I think I caught something big!” He stood to reel it in.

They watched as a large bluefish broke the surface of the water halfway across the river, flying into the air and jerking the line from side to side as it tried to pull free. Shea waited as the fish struggled, and then reeled it in a bit. He paused again while the fish swam furiously from side to side, and then reeled it in a little bit more. “Hailey, bring in your line. I’m going to need your help landing this big guy.”

She complied, quickly pulling in her empty hook and putting her rod on the dock behind them. “What can I do? I have no idea how to catch a big fish!”

He glanced at her. “Neither do I. I’ve only caught small-mouth bass and trout in the lakes back home. Where’s that net we brought?”

She looked around the dock before spotting it on the shore next to their bicycles. “I’ll get it.” She sprinted up the walkway and was back in a flash, net in hand. He reeled in the blue a few inches at a time. “Wow, that fish is a fighter!”

“I don’t think he wants to be dinner,” Shea said, pulling back on the rod so it bent nearly in half. As he eased up on the pole, he quickly reeled in more line. The fish was close to the dock now, and they could see he was almost three feet long. “The net,” he directed. “You should be able to get him any minute now.”

Hailey held the net over the water, glancing at him for more direction. “What now?”

“He’s too big for me to pull out on my own,” he explained. “The line’ll break if I try. When I get him to the surface of the water, you scoop under him. Got it?”

“I – I think so,” Hailey said, her voice sounding less than certain. She lowered the net until it touched the water, and waited. The knuckles on both hands turned white as she gripped the pole. The blue inched closer to the dock with every twist of the reel.

Suddenly, there it was, breaking the surface right beside her. Hailey scooped the net underneath the fish, catching it squarely in the basket. The blue struggled, but had already used too much of its energy fighting the fishing line. Arm muscles straining, she tried to lift the net onto the dock. “This guy is wicked heavy!”