by Greg Weisman
Neither moved nor spoke. Rain was out of words. Frankly, I was amazed she had been as eloquent as she was. Then she spoiled the moment.
“Um, if it helps, you can keep the camera.”
Aycayia smiled. She opened her mouth and a sound emerged that was something like the bark of a seal. (Certainly not a bark any self-respecting canine would utter.) Rain briefly feared the Manatee-Woman would try to speak in Sea Mammalese and grow angry when Rain didn’t understand.
But Aycayia was merely clearing a throat that hadn’t uttered a human syllable in centuries. When she spoke again, her voice was halting yet melodious. It was the voice of a Siren, for there was nothing about Aycayia the Cursed that wasn’t beautiful, enchanting. She said, “You seek a prize that isn’t mine to offer, Searcher.”
Rain couldn’t help herself. “You speak English!”
“I have listened to the people on the boats. And to the children who have joined me along the way. I know many of their words.”
“Then you understood me. You understand their parents—”
“It is not for me to return them to their parents. In my life—in my natural life—I was given few choices. I cannot—I will not—steal away that gift from my young ones.”
“They aren’t your young ones.”
“That is for them to decide.” She turned to her pups. “Stay with me,” she said. “The sea is ours. There will be no sorrow, no rules. Only play and mischief and devotion to one another. You will never know life without love. For you are precious to me, children. More precious than gold. More precious than the most precious of pearls. More precious than mine own life. I love you all.”
The pups snickered and called out their approval. Then they turned toward Rain.
Rain stared at them stupidly, not sure what came next. She glanced from them to Her and suddenly realized she was now supposed to make her case to the Kimlets. She wasn’t prepared for that. She had spent the entire day going over and over what she would say to Aycayia, but she had no clue how to compete with Her for the kids. How could she compete with Her? Immediately, she wished Miranda were there instead. The Kimlets liked Miranda. Or Charlie. Rain knew Charlie would have found the words. Even Renée seemed a better candidate. She could probably intimidate them into coming back. Rain felt entirely unequal to the task, but the sun continued to sink in the afternoon sky, and she knew she was running out of time. Now or never.
She cleared her own throat with her own nervous little bark. She looked at the Kimlets and decided to keep it simple. “Guys. Your mom, your dad, they miss you. They’re so scared for you. They’re heartbroken. I know—I know—you love them as much as they love you. You just can’t swim away and leave them alone. They would never, ever recover from that. I know Aycayia cares for you, and she’s magical and beautiful and everything. But your mom and your dad, well, they’re your mom and dad! Wendy, John, Michael, please, please come back to them.”
The littlest pup hid his face beneath the water. Wendy nudged him back to the surface. Do dolphins cry? Saltwater ran down both their snouts—but whether it was the sea or their tears, Rain could not be sure. John swam forward toward Aycayia and nudged her. She lifted his bottlenose chin with one hand and stroked it gently, looking into his eyes.
Then she turned to Rain and smiled sadly, saying, “They have chosen to follow you home, Healer.”
Before Rain could even register her victory, Aycayia the Cursed leaned over and kissed John’s snout. Immediately, he began to transform. Before Rain’s eyes, his snout shrank, his skin changed color. Flippers grew into arms; flukes split into legs. Hair sprouted from his head. He actually had a neck again. He became John Kim, floundering a bit before finding his footing in the shallow water.
Afraid to jinx it, Rain didn’t move as Aycayia kissed Wendy and then Michael, morphing both into human children once more. The Kimlets clung to Her. Still holding her skin in one hand, Aycayia wrapped both arms around them and said, “I will miss you.”
The Not-So-Lost Kims all spoke over each other. They would miss her too. They would never forget her. They loved her. They just loved their parents too. She reassured them she was not angry. She understood. But for each child, she shed one tear: one perfect pearl, her final gifts to her pups.
The four hugged each other as if they’d never let go. Until they did. Aycayia the Cursed relinquished her hold on them and stepped away. She nodded toward Rain, who stepped forward. Michael filled the void in his arms by hugging Rain’s leg. Even Wendy took Rain’s hand. Only John stood alone as the four of them watched Aycayia unfold her skin and climb back into it. The mouth of the manatee swallowed Her up, and Aycayia disappeared into her animal self. They watched the Manatee-Woman dive and surface and wave one last time with her tail. Then she was gone. The Six Sisters—Aunties no longer—followed, disappearing with Aycayia under the sea.
Rain and the Kimlets stood there for many long seconds, just breathing.
At first, Rain’s thoughts were filled only with unadulterated relief. Soon enough, other concerns crowded their way into her head. She said, “Okay, this is good. This is good. Just one last problem.”
“We’re naked,” Michael said.
“Well, there’s that, yeah. But I was thinking more about how we’re ever gonna explain this to the adults…”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
DUELING REALITIES
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 17
Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted, Rain entered the Nitaino Inn with ’Bastian, Charlie, Miranda and—unfortunately and unavoidably—Renée. The lobby was packed. Iris, Alonso, Judith, Cash and Constables Thibideaux and Viento stood in a semicircle (like Aunties) cordoning off the entire Kim family. Esther Kim was on her knees, holding her boys, John and Michael. Fred Kim stood right behind them with both arms wrapped around his Wendy.
Rain feigned surprise. “You found them!”
Wendy called out, “They found us!” She grinned.
The parents, eyes literally glistening, hugged their kids tighter, then traded kids and hugged again.
Charlie chewed on the inside of his mouth. ’Bastian scratched an eyebrow with a pinky—his standard method of avoiding eye contact, now rather unnecessary, as no one but Rain and Cash could see him. Miranda teared up legitimately. Renée too, appeared touched by the reunion—even as she leaned over and whispered in Rain’s ear, “Sugar … I own you.”
Rain kept a smile plastered on her face and nodded …
It had all gone as well as could be expected.
The dolphin pod had done them three last favors, given them three last gifts, easily as precious as their youngest sister’s pearls.
Favor One: First Sister, still carrying Alonso’s camera, had swum to the far side of Back Bay and gibbered at Charlie—dolphin to Dauphin—summoning him back to Rain. Ariel, expressing no surprise at seeing Rain with three clothes-challenged, Formerly Lost Kims, piloted the boat as close to shore as possible. Miranda and Charlie jumped ship into the shallows with towels to wrap around the Kimlets. Renée stayed aboard with her mouth hanging open. Stunned, she said nothing.
Favor Two: As Charlie lifted Michael into Ariel’s arms, Miranda pointed and said, “What’s that?” “That” was Wendy’s swimsuit floating to the surface of the water, followed by John’s and Michael’s. Second Sister, Third Sister, and Fourth Sister had preserved them—like manatee skin—for reasons perhaps obscure. The suits were, of course, soaking wet, but not even Michael complained as the three Kimlets put them back on. Renée stared, shook her head but said nothing.
Favor Three: Per Rain’s instructions—and Miranda’s confirmation—Ariel was gunning the speedboat toward Windward. The danger at this stage was that the authorities—and even volunteers like Rain’s father—were out in force, searching for Wendy, John and Michael, and it really wouldn’t do to find them with our stalwart teens (and Renée). To this end, the Kimlets lay flat on the deck of the boat, hidden under their towels. They couldn’t stop giggling.
It was all part of their Awfully Big Adventure, and it was contagious. Despite the ongoing seriousness of the situation—or maybe because they were by this time desperate for a cathartic release—Miranda, then Charlie, then Rain started giggling too. Renée laughed once, a sharp and triumphant bark of her own, but still she said nothing. Ariel did not so much as smile but kept her eye out for other boats and deftly steered clear of any and all. By this time, the sun was within minutes of hitting the water, and Rain feared they wouldn’t find a safe landing before Santa Julia reared her stormy head. That’s when Fifth Sister and Sixth Sister appeared, leading them to a deserted beach just south of Windward. (By now, the phrase “Follow those dolphins!” no longer required verbalization.) Rain, Charlie and Miranda took the Kimlets to shore. Michael wanted to build a sand castle, but just then the Rusty’s Gourmet Sandwiches food truck pulled into the parking lot, sporting a flat. Cassie Barrett got out of the cab, saw the nail in her tire, and began swearing like a sailor—which started John giggling all over again. Cassie heard the boy, turned and spotted the three kids. “Oh, my God!” she said, pulling out her cell phone and dialing 911. She did not see Rain, Charlie and Miranda swimming underwater to the speedboat, which was ensconced out of view, just around a bend in the coastline. A smiling Renée helped them aboard, and still.… she said nothing.
Now you couldn’t shut her up.
Over and over, she urged the Kimlets to tell their story. She knelt down to their level, fascinated. As previously arranged, Michael took the lead—telling the absolute truth (minus the involvement of Rain et al.)—from their introduction to the Womanatee to their transformation into dolphin pups to their nights as naked wild children eating soup by a jungle campfire, and so on. Of course, the truth played like fiction, and Fred Kim wanted to get to the bottom of it all. As did the constables. Wendy and John took over, telling another version of the story. In this version, the kids were swimming off Windward Strand when they got caught in a tide or current they couldn’t fight. It took them down the coast before they could fight their way out of the water to the shore. They walked off, looking for help, but it got dark. They were found by Aycayia and her sisters, and Aycayia took them camping in the jungle and offered them soup.
“And this was on San Próspero? Near Windward?” Renée asked, rather gleefully.
“Yes,” Wendy said slowly, her eyes narrowing.
“Did she keep you there against your will?”
“No,” Wendy said, showing enough caution toward Renée to raise the younger girl in Rain’s esteem by a considerable number of notches.
“Then why didn’t she bring you back?” Renée wondered, oh-so-ingenuously.
“She did,” Wendy emphasized. “Tonight.”
“She gave us these,” John said, holding up his pearl. Wendy and Michael held up their pearls too.
Everyone, even Renée, marveled. She said, “Those can’t be real.”
“They’re real!” John insisted.
“She cried them,” Michael said with a single nod of his head designed to put the matter at rest.
Fred took a few steps back, not at all sure what to make of these recitations. Rain saw him give Constable Thibideaux a questioning look. Thibideaux leaned in and said, “They seem to be all right. It doesn’t look or sound like they were abused.”
“Abused? I—I didn’t even think of that…”
“And you shouldn’t. But you should have them checked. Just in case.”
“You think this woman—”
“We’ll find this Aycayia,” Thibideaux said—though Rain had her doubts. “Get an explanation. But if I had to guess, I’d say your kids were helped by a kindly drug smuggler.”
“What?!” This last was said too loudly, and Fred Kim actually hushed himself when all eyes turned his way and the room got quiet.
Jean-Marc kept his voice low. “This isn’t a serious issue on the Ghost Keys, but we do have the occasional group of amateurs running pot—marijuana—to and from the islands. It’s not big business here, but it happens. It’s usually mainlanders in their early twenties looking for a little extra cash. And sometimes they’re not paid in cash but in things they can hock. I’ve never seen a payment in pearls before, but it fits.”
Cash snorted derisively. Rain wondered if it really did fit—or if the constable was simply trying to create a logic that conformed to his worldview more easily than either Michael or Wendy’s tales. Once more, she felt a desire to chuck all the pretense and shout out her truths, but she knew better.
Thibideaux went on, “If these young women, this Aycayia and her sisters, were waiting to make a connection, it would explain why they couldn’t risk bringing the kids back until the deal was over. Fortunately, it sounds like they took fairly good care of them. Even kept them entertained.”
Now it was Michael’s turn to stare. John shook his head, and Wendy did everything in her power not to laugh. Michael turned to his mother and said, “Is he making all this up?”
Renée said, “Sure he is. Adults have fairy tales too, you know. Even teenagers tell stories.” She glanced pointedly at Rain, who rolled her eyes, despite the danger she knew she was in. Renée was like a bomb waiting to go off, but for whatever reason, she had given herself a long fuse, and Rain made a conscious decision to enjoy the respite—for as long as it happened to last.
Esther hugged Michael again, saying, “She’s right. We all have bedtime stories.”
“Bedtime?” Michael asked, yawning on cue.
“Yes. Baths first. Then bedtime. Then bright and early tomorrow, we’re all heading home.” She glanced up—not at Thibideaux but at his female deputy, Mariah, who found herself nodding confirmation before checking to see if her boss would concur.
That was all the permission Esther Kim needed. She ushered her children up the stairs—right through Cash, by the way, which served to remind Rain that although one crisis had passed, another had barely been addressed. Briefly, she wondered why there had been no storm tonight. Not even after the sun had set and ’Bastian had materialized on the speedboat en route home from Windward. Perhaps Julia, like Renée, was hoarding her destructive capacity for a more opportune time.
At the top of the stairs, Michael said, “I’m not afraid of the water anymore, Mommy.”
“That’s wonderful, Michael.”
From the lobby, Fred Kim watched his family ascend, until they vanished from view. Then he started to cry. Without shame. Alonso stepped forward, offering a reassuring smile and a reassuring hand on Mr. Kim’s shoulder. Fred smiled back at him and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He crossed the lobby to follow the other Kims—then stopped. He turned back toward Rain and pulled out his wallet. “I still owe you money,” he said.
Rain shook her head. “I’m just glad they’re safe.”
“Thank you, but one thing really has nothing to do with the…”
“I couldn’t. Really.”
Alonso beamed proudly at his daughter. Iris, who had been on an emotional tightrope for days, now sniffed and dabbed at her own eyes—and resisted the urge to hug her daughter, knowing it would embarrass her in front of her friends.
“Really,” Rain repeated. She saw ’Bastian raise an eyebrow. Both knew she felt too guilty over exposing the Kimlets to Aycayia in the first place to take any money. Camera or no camera.
Fred Kim finally took no for an answer. Or perhaps he just couldn’t wait to rejoin his family. He said, “Well, thank you,” turned on his heel, and practically bounded up the stairs.
Deputy Constable Viento turned to her boss. “Now what?”
Jean-Marc didn’t answer right away. He was looking at the teens and asked, “Where have you four been?”
Rain looked at Renée, who stood there, smiling pleasantly. Then Miranda said, “We were on one of my father’s boats trying to help with the search.” Charlie nodded. So did Rain. Renée said nothing.
Constable Thibideaux seemed to think about this. Then he nodded, turned to Viento and belatedly answer
ed her question. “We look for these smugglers. I’d lay odds they’ve already left for the mainland, but we put out a description of this Aycayia—”
“Which description? The woman in the seaweed bikini or the manatee?”
Even Jean-Marc chuckled at that. “Yeah, I don’t hold out a lot of hope for success here. And frankly, I’m not going to pull out all the stops to find a woman who ultimately rescued these kids, took care of them and then sent them home. But you and Stabler do your best.”
“Not you?” Mariah Viento asked, surprised he was delegating.
“I’ve got to coordinate with Vector Control. They arrived this afternoon to deal with the mosquito problem on Sycorax. They want to set up early, before dawn tomorrow.”
The constables then took their leave, shaking hands with Alonso and Iris, then exiting out the front door.
Tall and awkward, Judith Vendaval stood in the middle of the lobby at loose ends. She said, “Well, I should probably, um…” She trailed off.
Iris grasped her hands. “Please, join us for dinner?”
“I don’t want to put you out. I know it’s not included in—”
“It would be my pleasure. I mean, I haven’t started anything yet, but if you can wait forty-five minutes, we’ll have a feast, I swear.”
“Can I help? Or at least watch? Local fare is part of what I write about.”
“Sure, I’m happy to put you to work,” Iris said.
“Putting people to work is one of her talents,” Rain sassed.
Iris gave her daughter a watch it, kid look, but it came with another smile. Then she invited Charlie, Miranda and Renée to stay as well—if it was all right with their parents. They all accepted. Even Renée.
“Then I’ll put you to work, too.”
Rain said, “Told you,” as Iris led a procession into the dining room toward the kitchen. Rain held back and grabbed her father by his wrist to stop him.