Spirits of Ash and Foam

by Greg Weisman

  “Ow! Cut it out. I thought you wanted me to pay!”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “I dunno. You looked at me.”

  “And that look said pay the man for counting to three?”

  “A dollar one way or another’s not going to make any difference!”

  That shut her up. She knew he was right. After a few beats, she exhaled loudly and said, “Okay, maybe we’re going about this wrong. Instead of buying a new camera, let’s get the old one back.”

  They all stared at her. Finally, ’Bastian said, “How?”

  “The dolphins were working for Her. For the Manatee-Woman. We need to figure out what she was exactly. Once we know more about Her, we can figure out where she’ll go. If she’s there, the dolphins will be there. And if the dolphins are there, the camera will be there, too.”

  “Yeah, no,” Charlie said.

  “You could pilot Alonso’s boat through the holes in that logic,”’Bastian added.

  She pounded the table. “If you two have a better idea…”

  Miranda was already doing another Web search. “No, it can’t hurt to try. I’m searching manatee.” She held up her phone and showed them a picture of a manatee. “Order Sirenia.”

  Charlie leaned in. “Like the Sirens in The Odyssey?” He and Rain had read Homer’s epic poem in seventh grade. (Well, Charlie had read it. Rain had only made it about halfway through—which might explain why he got an A- in English and she got a C+.)

  “I don’t know. But there’s a myths and legends section here.”

  “What’s it say?”’Bastian asked. Rain repeated the question.

  Miranda read silently to herself for a bit, then summarized. “There’s a lot, actually. But it fits. In West African folklore, manatees were once thought to be human. Um, oh, wow. Okay, manatees are linked to mermaid folklore. They’re thought to be the origin of all mermaid legends. Hold on, there’s a mermaid link … Whoa, this is a long article.”

  “Search mermaids and San Próspero,” Rain suggested. Then she caught sight of the Koko’s sign out of the corner of her eye. “Or, no, that might be too specific. Search mermaids and Caribbean.”

  Miranda complied, skimmed and said, “Both Columbus and Blackbeard the Pirate reported seeing mermaids in the Caribbean.”

  Charlie looked at Rain and said, “Great. So all you need to do is find their ghosts and ask them exactly where those sightings were.”

  She didn’t appreciate his sarcasm. “You make that sound so impossible.”

  He rolled his eyes at her, and she rolled hers right back. Despite the earlier gloom, they broke out laughing. ’Bastian took it as a good sign.

  Miranda glanced up at her friends. Maybe Renée’s right. They are kind of perfect for each other. I should go. Or maybe … maybe I can even help. She started to speak, to say something like You guys both know you should be a couple, right? But she chickened out, looked back down at her phone and clicked on another link. “I’m just surfing a bit now. When mermaids die their bodies turn into seafoam. Chinese mermaids weep pearls for tears. Oh, and this is semi-interesting. There’s a Scottish mermaid called … well, I don’t know how it’s pronounced, but it’s spelled c-e-a-s-g. If it’s captured, it grants three wishes.”

  “Wish number one, give me back my camera.”

  A new voice said, “What’s wish number two?” They turned. (I turned too. It was like Grand Central Station around here. Not that I’ve ever been to Grand Central Station.) It was Marina Cortez, this time without a boy on her arm.

  “Hey, Marina,” Rain said with decidedly mixed feelings.

  Charlie looked around apprehensively. “Are you meeting Hank here?”

  “Yeah, but I’m way early.”

  Charlie relaxed slightly—though he glanced at his watch to make sure he was keeping track of the time. He wasn’t sure he’d survive interrupting another of his older brother’s dates. He saw Miranda looking uncomfortable and made introductions. “Oh, Miranda Guerrero, this is Marina Cortez. Marina, Miranda. Miranda, Marina.”

  ’Bastian scowled. “That shouldn’t get confusing at all.”

  Marina, uninvited but unashamed, took a seat across from Rain. It had been ’Bastian’s seat, but he was still standing in the middle of the table. This made things rather awkward for both him and Rain. She had to look at Marina through ’Bastian’s pale, transparent form, and he just felt trapped. Trapped enough to walk through Rain—causing her to shudder violently. He turned and stood behind her.

  Marina noticed Rain’s shudder and said, “Someone walk across your grave?”

  “Something like that,” Rain said, swallowing hard and shooting ’Bastian a dirty look.

  “So what are you guys doing?” Marina asked.

  The thirteen-year-olds exchanged glances. Then Miranda volunteered, “We’re looking at mermaid legends.” The truth seemed the most harmless course of action.

  “That’s so weird! I totally saw a mermaid once!” Marina said enthusiastically.

  They stared at her.

  “I know, I know. Everyone in my family thinks I’m crazy. But I was on the commuter ferry from Malas Almas, and I saw a woman swimming in the water, totally keeping up with the boat. And then she dived. And for a second, I saw her bottom half, and she didn’t have legs. She had a tail.”

  “Like a fishtail,” Charlie said slowly.

  “No.” Marina gestured with her hands. “It wasn’t vertical like a fish. It was horizontal like a dolphin. But not like a dolphin.” She focused past her hands and saw them looking at her with slack jaws. Instantly, she looked embarrassed. “And now you three think I’m crazy too.”

  While Charlie tried to assure her otherwise—without revealing what they had seen—Rain was trying to work it out. The Manatee-Woman was not a mermaid in the classic sense. She hadn’t been human from the waist up and fish from the waist down. But if she had been in the process of putting on or taking off her manatee skin, then it could fit. A horizontal tail like a dolphin, but not like a dolphin. Maybe like a manatee. She said, “When was this?”

  “Last June.”

  “And where exactly did you see Her?”

  “I told you. On the commuter ferry.”

  “Yeah, but where was the ferry?”

  “Um, let me think. I was heading here. I think we had just passed Tío Sam’s. Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s right.” She leaned to look over Miranda’s shoulder. “What else does it say?”

  Miranda was still staring at her, and it took a couple of seconds to focus again and look down at her phone. She read, “Um, it says, ‘Mermaids and selkies are perhaps both born of the lost souls of the drowned.’”

  “What’s a selkie?” Charlie asked.

  “I don’t know,” Miranda said, clicking on the selkie link. “Okay, selkies are mythological creatures in Scottish and Irish legend. They live as seals in the sea but humans on land.” She gasped quietly and looked up at Rain. “They shed their seal skins to become human.”

  “Keep reading,” Rain said breathlessly.

  “Um … ‘Selkies are usually depicted as beautiful women. A selkie can only become human for a short time unless another human—usually a man—steals and hides her seal skin. In that case, the selkie falls under the human’s sway and often falls in love with her captor. Many fishermen sought out selkies, because they were thought to make true and loyal wives, who gave birth to children with an affinity for the sea. A selkie might remain with her human family for generations, but if a selkie wife found her stolen skin, she would use it to return to the sea, even if it meant abandoning her human children.’”

  Miranda paused for a moment. Long enough to make Rain recall the portrait in Pablo Guerrero’s study. She glanced at Charlie to see if the same thought had occurred to him, but he was staring at his father’s watch. Maybe he was worried Hank was about to show up. Or maybe he was thinking of something—and someone—else.

  Miranda cleared her throat and continued. “‘The
re’s the story of a selkie that donned her skin to save her human husband when he was lost at sea, even though it meant she could never return to her land family. She would, once a year, appear to her human children as a seal and play with them in the waves. But she’d always have to leave them behind, and she couldn’t return at all if her beloved husband was near.’”

  “That’s kinda tragic,” Marina said quietly.

  “There’s another legend here too,” Miranda said. She looked up. “Some selkies lure humans into the water—like Sirens—and neither selkie nor human is ever seen again.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AYCAYIA THE CURSED

  SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 13

  The ghost of Cash, a.k.a. the spirit of Milo Long, a.k.a. the phantom of the Pale Tourist (a.k.a. the individual Rain had been longing to talk to), was wandering around the Plaza del Oro Mall, looking for a girl. Or rather, the girl he had heard Hura-hupia mention as a possible target for the Hupia. He wanted to warn this mystery girl, if such a thing were possible. True, he wasn’t usually the kind of guy to go out of his way for a fellow human being, but being dead now, he figured he could use the karma points. Besides, that mosquito-swarm-Hupia-thing had killed him. Who knows? Maybe this girl could help even the score.

  But where to find her? Having ridden the Sycorax Ferry across the bay, he thought checking out the mall might be a good bet. That was as far as his thinking had taken him. He had no idea what this girl looked like, and only a single name: Cacique. Still lying under my table, my lower jaw flush with the paved stone floor, I watched Cash wander in and out of shops and stores and Koko’s. He had no more luck finding a girl who could commune with ghosts than he previously had finding a spiritual light to walk into.

  To be fair, it probably didn’t help that Rain was no longer at the mall and had—for the time being—forgotten about him.

  She and ’Bastian were walking home. The night had turned sticky, and Rain felt a palpable need for a shower to wash away the saltwater film from her frustrating swim and the sweat accompanying her depressing camera dilemma. All thoughts of proving manatee-Her existed, speaking to recently deceased ghosts, investigating mysterious swarms or finding all-important zemis had been pushed from her mind. She needed the camera or the money to buy a new one. Neither seemed within her reach.

  Grandfather and granddaughter trod down Goodfellow Lane. Moonrise was still an hour or so away, but the streetlamps illuminated the cobblestones—and lured in mosquitoes. Rain said, “Maybe Miranda could get Ariel to take us past Tío Samuel to look for Her or the dolphins.”

  ’Bastian sighed. “It’s a big ocean.”

  “Yeah.” Rain’s shoulders sank dramatically. “I don’t suppose Mom would give me a year’s allowance in advance without asking why?”

  “Have you met your mother?”

  “Yeah.” Her shoulders sank a little more. ’Bastian thought they’d be dragging on the cobblestones any minute. They paused outside the Nitaino, with Rain more than a little reluctant to enter.

  Inside, Mr. and Mrs. Kim were at the front desk, telling Iris they were hoping for a little quality time tomorrow. That is, a little quality time alone. That is, alone together. That is, together without their kids. They were wondering if Mrs. Cacique could contact that nice Miranda and ask if she’d be willing to babysit.

  This put Mrs. Cacique in an awkward position, as no one—not her husband and certainly not her daughter—had mentioned anyone named Miranda. Ever. “I’m … not sure Miranda’s available tomorrow,” she said.

  “Well, what about Rain?” Esther Kim asked.

  “I’m afraid Rain doesn’t—”

  “I’m in!” Rain spoke before the door to the Inn had shut. “Happy to do it.”

  Fred Kim said, “You can handle all three of them? For the whole day?”

  “Definitely.”

  He turned to Rain’s mother, looking for some confirmation. Iris tried to suppress her surprise and answered the unspoken question honestly (or honestly enough). “Rain’s very responsible.”

  Fred still seemed dubious, but Esther was quite pleased. “Great. Say, nine A.M. tomorrow?”

  Rain looked at her mother, who said, “That should be fine. The Bernstein-Shores will be on an excursion to La Géante, and Ms. Vendaval doesn’t usually take breakfast.”

  Rain said, “Then I’m all yours. Or all theirs, anyway.”

  Esther said thank you and ushered her husband upstairs before anyone involved could change his or her mind.

  Iris eyed her daughter suspiciously. “I thought you swore you’d never babysit tourist kids again.”

  “I … deny … ever taking such a vow. Besides, these are great kids. They’re so easy.”

  “We are talking about the Kim kids, right?”

  All these white lies were making ’Bastian’s eyebrow itch. He scratched at it with his pinky while spending a few seconds contemplating the postcard rack and the question of what would actually make a ghost itch.

  Rain, meanwhile, was on a roll. “We had a blast with them today.”

  “A blast? With the Kims? You, your father, Charlie … and Miranda?”

  “Exactly.” Rain kissed Iris on the cheek, said good night and headed toward the kitchen, dragging ’Bastian along behind the armband and leaving her mother exasperated.

  In contrast, Rain was feeling worlds better. If she played it smart, she could earn enough money in one day to buy that replacement camera for her dad. Of course, babysitting would be a royal pain, but maybe she wouldn’t have to suffer it alone …

  In the kitchen, she phoned Charlie. Always eager to be her hero, he agreed to help. She hung up to call Miranda, then realized she didn’t have Miranda’s number. She called Charlie back. He had Miranda’s cell phone number. Rain jotted it down on the whiteboard on the fridge. She called Miranda, who was unsurprisingly enthusiastic. Feeling more than a little proud of herself, she went up the back stairs to shower and get ready for bed.

  Soon enough, with ’Bastian out on his nightly walk, Rain shut off her lamp and settled into her pillow. It had been a long day, tiring in more ways than one. She was soon asleep … and dreaming …

  In the First Days, the First Chief of the Taíno consulted with First Shaman. “The First Men fight amongst themselves,” First Chief said. “What is the cause?”

  First Shaman was old and wise and knew the cause. “It is Aycayia,” he said.

  Aycayia was the most beautiful woman in the cacicazgo. Every man desired her. And not simply the strong, young warriors. The little boys desired her. Old men desired her. Husbands desired her. Even women desired beautiful Aycayia. First Chief said, “Show me this Aycayia.”

  So Shaman brought First Chief to view Aycayia from afar. They approached the bohio where she lived with her six sisters. When the sun rose, First Sister emerged from the bohio. And she was beautiful, and First Chief said, “So this is Aycayia. I see now why the men fight over her.”

  But First Shaman said, “That is not Aycayia. That is but her eldest sister. Wait.”

  And Second Sister emerged from the bohio. And First Chief said, “Ah, yes. This is Aycayia. She is even more beautiful than her sister.”

  But First Shaman shook his head. “That is not Aycayia. That is another sister. Wait.”

  And so it went, as Third Sister and Fourth Sister and Fifth Sister and Sixth Sister emerged one by one from the bohio. And each was more beautiful than the last. But none was Aycayia.

  Finally, Aycayia herself emerged. She pretended not to see First Chief and First Shaman, allowing them to watch her bathe.

  The moment he saw Her, First Chief was enthralled. And even old Shaman was not immune to the curve of her hip, the fullness of her breast, to her raven-dark hair and the light in her eyes.

  And when she began to sing, her voice was so beautiful that First Chief said, “This Aycayia must be mine. I will kill any man who seeks to take Her from me. And I will make Her my queen!”

  And First Shaman turned
upon him. “No! I will call on First God, and he will strike you down and give Aycayia to me.”

  And thus Chief and Shaman, the First Friends of the Taíno, were ready to slay each other over Aycayia.

  Thankfully, the old crone Guanayoa appeared. She said, “First Chief, this Aycayia is no woman for you. She is First Witch. She robs you of your will to rule wisely.”

  And further Guanayoa spoke, “And Shaman, do not call on First God, for Aycayia’s magicks are so powerful that no less than First God would love Her. And using His power, she would bring an end to all the First Days.”

  Guanayoa’s words did not break Aycayia’s spell, but the men’s heat abated. And Guanayoa was able to lead Chief and Shaman away from Aycayia’s bohio. With time and distance from her spell, First Chief and First Shaman regained themselves and were First Friends again.

  “What must be done?” First Chief asked. “If she remains here, every man will kill every other man.”

  “That is Aycayia’s desire,” Guanayoa said. “She seeks to destroy you all.”

  “Aycayia must be banished from the cacicazgo,” First Shaman said. “Else this First Witch will triumph.”

  So it was agreed that Guanayoa would take Aycayia far away.

  Fourteen Warriors were placed in seven canoes. They were blindfolded, so they could not look upon Aycayia. And their nostrils were plugged with rubber gum, so they could not revel in her scent. Aycayia was led to the First Canoe. She was bound so she could touch no one. And she was gagged so her voice could not enthrall. For Aycayia’s magicks were so powerful, all the senses must be thwarted.

  Aycayia’s Six Sisters sat in the six other canoes. Guanayoa sat beside Aycayia and guided the blind warriors far away to Punta Majagua. There, Aycayia, her Sisters and Guanayoa were abandoned. The Fourteen Warriors were instructed to row toward the heat of the setting sun with their blindfolds in place. Only when night had fallen could they remove them and find their way home.

  Guanayoa, Aycayia and her Sisters built a new bohio. And for a time there was peace, as Aycayia was forced to care for old Guanayoa.

  But Aycayia would not be thwarted. She worked her magicks, singing to the First Men of the Taíno from afar. And each of the Fourteen Warriors answered her song. They sat in their canoes and put blindfolds on again. And they remembered their First Journey and crossed through the darkness in the same manner.