“Wait a minute!” I look under the bed and pull out a tube of Benjie’s. It rolled under there ages ago, but I was too lazy to get it.
I rub a generous amount of the vapor rub onto his bad knee. He lets out a long “ahhhh.”
“You have to remember you’re not young, Daddy.” I rub his knee clockwise, then anti-clockwise.
“ ’Ush your mouth and rub the next knee,” Daddy replies. “It’s been acting up lately. Maybe I should see a doctor.”
“For old age?” I ask cheekily, putting the balm on the other knee. But even as I joke, I’m worried because this knee has never given Daddy any problems. At that moment, I also notice there are gray hairs at the top of his head.
Daddy sucks his teeth. “I don’t know where you get all that mouth from.”
“I get it from you!”
Daddy laughs, and then ruffles my hair. “I miss this, yuh know.”
A time before Mariss.
It’s like Daddy reads my mind. “I’ll ask Mariss ’ow much longer till ’er roof is finished.”
“Wait—no!” I exclaim, and Daddy arches his eyebrow. I want Mariss out of the house, yes, but she commanded a mutant lionfish to attack Miss Alleyne and sent zombie fish after me when I upset her. With just a look, she reduced the normally boisterous Mrs. Edgecombe to a nervous cockroach hiding in the bathroom. If Daddy asked her to leave she’d lure him to the bottom of the sea for sure. And he would follow her to his death, willingly turn himself into fish food under her control.
“Somebody finally warming up to Mariss?” Daddy asks in a teasing voice.
“Uh, no, it’s just that, uh.” I search my brain for a lie. “She told me it should be done in about two weeks, and she, uh, feels really sad that she has to leave, so best not to bring it up. Don’t say anything.”
“Mmm.” Daddy settles into my pillow.
“How’s Miss Alleyne?” I ask, remembering his plan to visit the hospital today.
“I ain’ bother go, man,” he replies, yawning. “We can all visit this weekend.” I breathe a sigh of relief at one less problem to worry about, thankful that Daddy recognized the need to keep the peace. After a few minutes, he starts to snore, and I ease off the bed to close the door. The doorknob jiggles when I push it, and even in the dim light, I can tell it’s broken. There’s no way to keep Mariss out if she comes after me again.
I get back under the sheets and stare at the door until the roosters crow, their loud cries now sounding like strangled warnings. Daddy and I can’t survive living with Mariss for much longer. We’re both already on her bad side; I’m so tired I can barely see straight, and I’ve never seen Daddy more frail. I don’t think he has the strength to fight against Mariss’s mind control, even if he wanted to. It’s up to me to free him from her spell.
I have to find that comb and return it to her lair today.
* * *
“Knock knock!” chirps Mariss, pushing open the door with her pinkie. I glare at her, my eyes red from lack of sleep, and squeeze Daddy a bit tighter.
She smirks at us cuddled together in the bed. “I didn’t get an invite to the sleepover.” I can’t help but cower under the sheet as she steps inside my room. She’s wearing a bigger spiral pendant today.
“I’m up! I’m up!” says Daddy. He untangles himself from my sheet.
Mariss takes a step back and wrinkles her nose. “What’s that smell?”
“Oh, just a lil Benjie’s Balm for my knee,” Daddy replies. Without thinking, I roll over on top of the tube before she can confiscate it.
“Those chemicals can kill you. Please get rid of it,” states Mariss, as if talking to a child. “I’ll make some turmeric tea to help with the pain.”
Mariss hurries away. Daddy and I exchange a look.
“Well, I better get ready.” Daddy stands and stretches. “I ain’ catch a thing yesterday, so me and some fellas going up north to see ’ow the fish biting. I will be ’ome late.”
“How late?” I demand, trying to hide the anxiety in my voice. “Maybe you should give the fish a break and try again next week.” Hopefully by then it will be safe for him to go out to sea.
“Bean, relax,” he says. “One evening with Mariss ain’ gine kill you.” His ominous words hang in the air.
“Your tea is ready, Vincey!” Mariss calls from downstairs. Daddy makes a face.
“Don’t worry, Daddy. Later we can make soup, and you can have all the dumplings you want.”
He smiles and pinches my cheek, and I watch him hobble out of the room, wishing I could lock him away in a safe place.
I check the doorknob. It’s broken all right, almost falling off the door. Mariss tried to come in last night; now I’m even more determined to find the comb before she gets another chance.
I press my ear against my bedroom door and hear Daddy and Mariss bickering downstairs, so I scurry across the hall to Daddy’s bedroom to search that box in the closet.
But the door is locked.
I resist the urge to pound my fist on the door, and exhale, trying to clear my mind. Mariss wouldn’t have locked the door if there was nothing hidden inside. I’m sure the comb is in that box, and I’m not going to let something as simple as a locked door keep me out, not when a master lock picker lives right next door.
Ahkai is talented with a whittling knife, but I found out the extent of his skill when he used it to break into Mr. Atkins’s drawer after he confiscated my cricket ball and one of Ahkai’s favorite books.
I just have to persuade him to help me.
I get ready for school as normal. I have to stick to the same routine so Mariss doesn’t suspect anything. If I faked a sickness, she would probably volunteer to stay home with me. But I plan to skip school with Ahkai and break into Daddy’s bedroom.
Now that my home is enemy territory, after I’m dressed, I peer out into the hallway for any sign of Mariss. She’s in the shower, this time belting a sharp, fast-paced opera tune instead of her hocus-pocus wedding hymn. I confirm that Daddy’s bedroom door is still locked before hurrying past the bathroom and through the steam floating out from under the door. She’s draining all the hot water from the pipes.
Daddy’s downstairs by the bar, scowling and scooping vegetable gunk off the counter and into a bowl. “Pass some tissue there, Jo.”
Eager for him to leave, I search the cupboard for paper towels but find bags of table salt, sea salt, brown rice, and basmati rice on the top shelf. I remember Miss Mo talking about the soucouyant, her hands bent like claws. “If yuh can’t find she skin, put some grains of salt or rice around the house. She has to count them before she can come in and kill you!”
This theory is just as wacky as walking home backward with one shoe, but I haven’t secured the comb yet, and it can’t hurt to see if Mariss has other weaknesses. Mariss’s cooking is so bland that perhaps salt really is her natural enemy.
I grab a large bag of salt, and sprinkle a line along the entrance to the kitchen. It looks like a white ants’ trail.
“Don’t worry about it, I gotta go.” Daddy pushes the bowl aside. “Ask Miss Mo to take you school or you can walk there with Mariss.” Before I can utter a word, Daddy is out the door.
This is perfect. I know the comb is in Daddy’s bedroom, but I still have no idea where Mariss’s lair is located. Today I can tail her, and maybe she’ll lead me straight to her watery kingdom.
The bathroom door creaks open, and I dash outside, not even pausing to put down the bag of salt. Then, I hide in the hibiscus bushes, peeking through the kitchen window, eager to see if the salt will be effective.
Finally, she appears, looking like a stony queen in a silky wrap dress with red-and-silver lines. It’s so long that the bottom drags on the floor. All that’s missing is a tiara.
Mariss pauses by the entrance, looking down at the trail of salt. I brace myself, preparing for whatever happens next.
Without further reaction, Mariss glides over the trail. Her dress doesn’t even shift th
e grains.
I guess I can cross “salt” off the list. A gentle breeze rattles the leaves and Mariss turns toward the window. I duck, folding in my lanky frame as much as possible, until I remember that blue-and-pink plaid is the worst kind of camouflage. I scramble out of the bushes and sprint over to Miss Mo’s house.
It’s unusually quiet, and I find Ahkai in the kitchen, poring over a stack of books.
“Where’s Miss Mo?” I ask, leaning back against the door.
“She left home at a much earlier time to carry out stocktaking at the market,” he replies. Excellent, one less obstacle to face. Finally, the tide is turning in my favor.
Ahkai glances at me. “Why are you holding a bag of salt?” I reluctantly confess to the trap I staged for Mariss.
Ahkai stares at me without blinking. “It seems highly improbable that sodium chloride would prevent an attack from such a powerful creature, if it existed.”
I ignore him and check to see if Mariss followed me. I wonder if her snake eyes can see through the crack in the curtains.
“Did you leave a banana peel for her to slip on? That would expose her calf’s foot.”
“A Sea Mumma doesn’t have a calf’s foot!” I shriek, throwing my hands in the air. Is this how Miss Mo feels? “You know she has to be half snake. We found the snake skin!”
He frowns. It’s the one thing he can’t explain. “It states here that the sea snake does shed its skin every four weeks on average. They rub against coral or other hard substances to loosen it.”
I’m hit by the image of Mariss constantly rubbing her skin on the walls.
“Every four weeks?” I whisper.
“Yes, and the new epidermis is very delicate and easily damaged.”
Now it makes sense. A full moon occurs once a month, so maybe that’s why Mariss snuck out that night—to shed her, ew gross, skin. It’s probably when she’s at her most exposed, her most vulnerable. This is why I have to return the comb during the full moon! It’s my best chance of success.
“Alpha Mike,” I say in a solemn voice, and close the book. “We have a new mission.”
I’m no Lagahoo so I change my appearance the old-fashioned way. I raid Miss Mo’s closet and grab a long flowered skirt and a black-and-white cotton blouse. I check out my new look in the mirror.
Not bad.
I pull on a black, straight-haired wig hanging from the side of the chest of drawers and secure it in place with a wide-brimmed straw hat, then hunch my shoulders forward and take a few stiff steps. There’s no way Mariss will recognize me in my old lady disguise.
I take a tan wicker purse with pearly white buttons from a nail in the wall, and when I check inside, I find a few pieces of tissue paper and a couple of black-eyed peas at the bottom. No, a pack of peas didn’t happen to burst in her bag; Miss Mo believes that black-eyed peas can ward off evil spirits. I grab a few of the peas and put them in Ahkai’s pants pocket, ignoring his mocking expression.
I’m not taking any chances.
While Ahkai finds a disguise, I peek through the windows, making sure that we don’t miss Mariss. It seems like the soul has been sucked from my house, like its bright burgundy walls have retreated to a murky brown.
I rush Ahkai to choose between three shirts, so he decides to wear all of them, finishing off his bulky outfit with a baseball cap and sunglasses. There are already beads of sweat on his forehead.
Ahkai looks through the binoculars.
“The target is approaching,” he says into the walkie-talkie, even though I’m right next to him.
Tailing is not as simple as people think. It’s hard to stay undetected, because the brain alerts you that something is out of the ordinary, or as Miss Mo would say, “a mind tell me.” That’s why Ahkai and I have to work together, ducking behind the coconut trees, trusting ourselves to let Mariss get out of sight, and taking shortcuts to regain a visual. Ahkai hides behind newspapers at bus stops and whispers into the walkie-talkie, updating me with Mariss’s position.
Mariss looks straight ahead, even when other bystanders—the men in particular—wave at her or bid her greetings. A man sitting at the side of the road with a three-tooth smile chokes on his catcall. I don’t know what Mariss did but he’s abandoned his cement block by the time we pass by.
Mariss doesn’t ever move her black case from her left hand to her right because it is getting heavy, and she doesn’t look back once, which is why I can’t understand how she gives me the slip as soon as I reach the bottom of Coconut Hill.
I stomp my foot into the ground and then turn left, assuming she’s gone on to the fish market. But today, the market is unnervingly quiet, not bustling with its usual activity. Most of the stalls are empty, and the few stalls that are open have no fish displays, just vendors packing fish into freezers.
“I’ve lost the target. Do you have a visual? Over.” Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I pull the hat low over my face before turning around.
It’s Ahkai.
“Where is she?” I hiss. I can’t afford to lose track of her; lives depend on it.
Ahkai raises his shoulder and sticks his palms out. Then he gasps and pushes me into a narrow space between two stalls. The wall is covered with peeling newspapers and sticky black grime.
“What—”
“Shhh!!!” Ahkai points to a figure.
It’s Miss Mo!
I press my back farther onto the icky wall. Miss Mo stops at the stall in front of us. She just has to turn a little to her right and look down, and we’ll be discovered. I’m already thinking about excuses as to why we aren’t at school and why I’m dressed in her good church clothes.
“Valerie.” Miss Mo talks to someone out of our view. “Do a storm special. Tuna, eight dollars a pound. I gine finish pack.”
Storm?
I look at the sky. The clouds are gray, with the sun struggling to break through. I had confused the stillness of the impending storm with my nerves.
“Ramona!” Miss Mo cries out. “Looka you! Oh, thank the Lord for his mercies and blessings upon us!”
Ramona is out of sight as well. “It’s a miracle, Auntie,” she says.
I want to know what they’re talking about. I inch toward the edge of the wall. Ahkai, who is trembling, holds on to my hand and shakes his head. I ignore him and crouch in the space, closer to the ground, which is filled with old newspaper and plastic bottles. Ahkai slides down next to me, muttering under his breath.
I take a peek.
Miss Mo is touching Ramona’s belly. The small bump is clear from my angle. My mouth falls open, and I move back into the hiding place.
“Ramona’s pregnant!” I whisper to Ahkai. He goes to put his hand to his mouth, but stops short on seeing the grime on his fingers. I know he remembers what I told him about the Sea Mumma. She can even cure infertility.
Maybe he’s starting to believe me …
“Take all the fish you want, Mummy! Yuh eating for two now!” We hear the rustling of newspapers and plastic bags.
“Now, you should put castor oil on that belly now and rub down the pain. Heat it up first, and massage it in every day. I barely feel a thing when Ahkai pop out.”
Ahkai looks mortified.
“Thanks, Auntie, I heading home before the rain come down.” We catch a glimpse of Ramona’s face when she turns to wave goodbye. I’ve never seen her eyes brighter. She is glowing.
“Look, the red flags up and fishermen securing the boats,” says Valerie, the thick woman with braids who Miss Mo was talking to before.
This means Daddy will be home soon … and Mariss. I need to get home and find that comb.
Ahkai and I stop breathing when Miss Mo seems to look in our direction, out toward the shore.
“That foolish one Seifert ain’ tying it properly! Seifert!” Miss Mo yells, heading down the path to the beach.
Now’s our chance!
Ahkai and I ease out of the space. We move to go in the opposite direction, but then I pa
use.
“Excuse me, young girl,” I say in a shaky, high-pitched voice. It’s my best old woman imitation. Valerie turns to me.
“Better get home, hear?” she says, lifting a piece of plywood on a small window. “Government order a complete shutdown. Nobody ain’ supposed to be outside after one.”
“I looking for Mariss. She ’bout here?” I ask.
“Who?”
“Mariss. She got a big afro, sells jewelry here at the market?”
Valerie shakes her head. “Only one person selling jewelry, and that’s a Rasta man. Never hear bout nobody name Mariss. What sorta name is that?”
There is a loud crack of thunder, and then the rain starts to drizzle.
Ahkai is way past frustrated and miserable. We haven’t eaten anything all day, and we both get soaked on our way back, but my fear is way greater than hunger. I don’t care about my wet clothes, although Miss Mo forever warns me that having wet hair and clothes is the path to certain death.
Ahkai takes off his baseball cap when we turn onto our street.
“Ahkai?” He doesn’t look around and walks a little faster.
“Please help me get into Daddy’s room.”
He picks up the pace.
“If we don’t find the comb, I swear I’ll stop. Please, Ahkai!”
I drop my shoulders when he turns left to go to his house, but he pauses, then looks back at me. “Let me get my whittling knife.”
I follow him inside to gather as many weapons as I can in case Mariss shows up. I grab everything she dislikes: toilet cleaner, mosquito repellent. I even take unhealthy things like margarine and leftover fried chicken from the fridge.
“Your mind has cracked,” declares Ahkai after seeing the items in my hands. I check the street for Mariss before hurrying up the pathway to my house.
“I know she’s hiding the comb in that closet,” I argue, following him to Daddy’s room. “Why else would she have the bedroom door locked when she’s just in the bath?”
Ahkai examines the doorknob and then shakes it.
“Tell me there isn’t something fishy about that!” I insist.
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