Surface Tensions

by Jordan, G R

"Don't you speak so rudely. All you men think about. Apologise right now."

  "You hit me with your car. You've smashed my kneecap. I bloody swear you've broke it."

  "Language." Another slap to the cheek. "Where is she?"

  "Dad took her. Down to the loch side. Down that way. Bloody hell, leave me alone. Get an ambulance you silly bitch."

  Slap! Slap! Slap! James arrived at the scene.

  "You okay, Mrs. McKinney?"

  "She's fine. Just keep her away from me. The stupid bat's lost it."

  Slap!

  "Young men today, just have no manners," accused Laura.

  "Looks like he's in a bit of a mess," said James, "Did he say anything about Kiera?"

  "Who the hell's Kiera?" shouted young McCreedie.

  "Black hair, slim figure, good…complexion?" said James with one eye on Laura.

  "Blonde! I told the daft cow, she was blonde with big boobs."

  Slap!

  "He said they went down to the loch," added Laura.

  "Well we need to go down then, whoever has sent the message."

  "What about this potty-mouthed, young man?"

  "Get me an ambulance," shouted young McCreedie.

  "I'll tie him up, the police shouldn't be too far behind."

  James removed the young man's shoes and used his laces to tie his hands behind his back before dragging him to the side of the road. When he came alongside Laura, who had returned to her car, she was holding a poker in her hand.

  "Where did you get that?"

  "I was taking it to the charity shop, but now it has a better use. My husband's in hospital, your girl has been harpooned, Kiera is in difficulty and there's a buxom blonde in trouble. It's time to end this nonsense."

  Without asking if he was coming along, Laura turned and walked downhill towards the loch-side. Left with no option James followed.

  Laura covered the ground surprisingly quick for an older woman, and James struggled to keep up, his senses reeling from the crash. Continuing as if the collision hadn't happened, Laura marched across the uneven ground until she got to the loch side. The water was calm and everything seemed peaceful but the ground was disturbed with several sets of footprints.

  "Look, Mrs. McKinney, there's more footprints going this way. Do you think we should try this way first?" James' words were half lost as a rifle shot resounded from the mountains around the loch.

  Laura didn't even flinch as she turned and followed the greater footprint impressions. Defying her age, she started to break into a light jog, poker held high.

  ***

  "Anyone does anything stupid, and I'll blow a hole in you!" Now with the barrel back between Hayley's shoulder blades, McCreedie radioed his colleagues. After giving his location, all he asked for was to bring the dynamite.

  "Now, then, if we can all come together and sit down just over there."

  Tommy walked slowly toward the rock McCreedie was pointing at, staring all the time at Hayley who was shaking with fright. Donald took Kiera's hand and led her to the rock. Coming closer, McCreedie pushed Hayley with the barrel into Tommy who grabbed her and held her close. "Just sit there and you'll be fine. All I want are the mermaids. Get rid of these bastard creatures once and for all."

  "What have they ever done to you?" shouted Hayley.

  Tommy held her from jumping back up at the gunman.

  "Killed my brother. On that boat in the harbour. Killed by that merman. Well, that ain't enough to see that merman dead, going to kill the lot…before people get sentimental about these killers. Time to eradicate them. Stick of dynamite should be a start. Especially now they are hiding below.

  The gunshot had made the mer-people dive but the occasional flipper and head could be seen popping up to the surface.

  "Don't do this," begged Kiera. "They have young and mothers in there."

  "All the better, we'll get them before they can breed again. Stop them before they start. Ah, my fellow hunters, I see you managed to subdue them. You," McCreedie said pointing at Tommy, “take their bonds off. No messing or I'll blow blondie away."

  Doing as instructed, Tommy received a punch across the jaw from the man he had hit with the rock. Containing his rage, Tommy returned to Hayley and held her, examining her face, and realised she had been struck several times.

  They're going to pay for this, thought Tommy, I'll rearrange his face.

  "Once the lads are here with the dynamite, we'll sort these fish out. No more trouble from them."

  "What makes you think they're all in there anyway?" asked Kiera.

  "Doesn't matter. ‘Eye for an eye’ they say, isn't it? It'll be plenty more not to kill another fisherman."

  Hayley bowed her head in Tommy's lap and wept.

  All my life I trained to help animals, she thought, and he's just going to kill them right here in front of me. I can't watch. I can't.

  During the next hour, Donald became more interested in some variations of colour he could see on the edge of his vision. Someone was on the move in the fog, and they were being careful to stay just out of clear vision. They seemed to be scouting the area, from what Donald could make out. He was sure there were at least two because their clothing seemed to be a different colour.

  Continuing to watch the surrounds, Donald tried to look nonchalant as he did this. For the next half-hour, the captives and the fishermen waited in an uneasy stand-off, waiting for the other hunters to arrive. From out of the edges of the fog two men appeared, one carrying a rucksack and the other a rifle.

  "Calum, is that it?"

  "Yeah, McCreedie, as requested. Twelve sticks in there. Where are the wee buggers anyway?"

  "Gone down to the depths, though it can't be that deep here. Set the dynamite up. We'll fire it and launch it in from here. John," McCreedie said to the other man who had arrived and indicating Donald and his friends. "You keep your rifle trained on them. I don't want anyone disturbing this.”

  McCreedie watched the preparations until he was satisfied. Taking one last glance at the captives and noting they were secure, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and took the first stick.

  "Calum, is the lighter ready?" Calum didn't answer but stared over McCreedie's shoulder. "I said, is it ready? What the hell's the matter with you?"

  Calum just pointed behind McCreedie who turned slowly to see a new arrival.

  An older woman was slowly but deliberately making a line towards McCreedie. She appeared to be nonplussed by the guns held by the hunters and appeared unarmed.

  "You sir, what do you think you're doing?" demanded Laura. McCreedie blinked his eyes in disbelief. "I asked you a question, young man, now be so good as to answer me."

  "Who the hell's this?" asked McCreedie turning to his compatriots.

  They shrugged. Laura continued to advance.

  "Will you answer me, young man? Don't be so impertinent."

  Young man? thought McCreedie, I'm sixty!

  Getting to within three feet of the fisherman, Laura made an abrupt halt. "And guns, don't you realise people could get hurt, carrying on like that? What's that in your hand?"

  "Dynamite." McCreedie wasn't sure why he had answered. It was like the lady expected an answer and so it produced itself from his mouth.

  "Now that is dangerous. Didn't you ever read about those poor men in that mining disaster in '63? It's just not safe that type of explosive."

  This is silly, thought McCreedie. Who does she think she is? Time to teach the damn busybody a lesson.

  "Now listen here, Mrs. Do-gooder…"

  The poker struck him on the side of the head with surprising force for an older lady, and McCreedie tumbled to the ground. Having come from behind Laura's back, he never saw the poker except for a brief glimpse in his peripheral vision, but by then it was too late. The other captives and the fishermen were engrossed by the developments and hadn't spotted James coming close. As the poker was produced, he threw two large stones in quick succession at the other gun holders, striking one
in the head, felling him, and the other on the arm so that his gun dropped.

  As McCreedie fell, his gun, without the safety catch on, came off his shoulder and fired upon hitting the ground. The deafening shot caught Laura in the foot knocking her over. With chaos ensuing, Donald and Tommy grabbed their chance to jump on the other hunters and hand-to-hand fighting broke out. Kiera ran to Laura's aid, while McCreedie rolled about on the ground holding his face.

  Donald exchanged blows with Calum before diving at him and knocking him to the ground. Tommy and James were struggling to hold their own against larger opponents. Hayley tried to intervene but received a blow to her mid-riff for her pains. The fight was in the balance and blood had been drawn by both sides.

  "Stand down, police! I said police! Stand down!" The harsh bark of the Chief constable broke through the fight and slowly the participants began to desist. Policemen started appearing at pace from all sides. "Everyone lie down on the floor with your hands behind your back, well away from your guns. No one make any aggressive moves. You are surrounded, and you can't escape." Donald, Tommy, James and the other participants of the fight began to drop to their knees until another voice rang out.

  "I don't think so, Mr. Policeman." All eyes turned to see McCreedie holding his cocked rifle at Kiera's head.

  "Don't do anything stupid. No one has to get hurt here," advised the Chief Constable.

  "That's where you're wrong, copper. You see there's a debt to be paid by some little fish-ies in this here loch. A family score to settle you might say, and this wench here is going to help me." McCreedie tapped Kiera's head with the rifle. "Nobody else move or she gets it."

  "That'll be murder. You'll never get out for that."

  "Well, there'll be no need if she does what she's told. You, girl," he tapped Kiera's head again, "get the lighter." Slowly, Kiera moved to pick it up with McCreedie keeping the gun on her head all the time.

  Keep your head, Kiera told herself. Keep your head. Her heart beat fast, and her knees were quivering. Hold it together, I need to hold it together.

  McCreedie's men, rather than step back into the breach, could start to see a wildness in his eyes. There was one thing to threaten and another to parade around with a gun in front of the cops. If anything happened, this would be cold-blooded murder with no way out. The common sense in each of them said now was a time to remain clear of their leader. After all, he was the leader, his idea. They each rehearsed in their heads their defence, Honest, Mr. Policeman, we were only after the mermaids.

  Watching helplessly, Donald was torn in two between a dramatic dash to help or keeping a cool distance and preserving Kiera's life. So much had passed between them this last week, and he just couldn't believe it could end here. He could see the fear in her, saw how her hands trembled, her knees shook. And as she caught his eye, her fear of losing him nearly broke him.

  "Blondie, pick up the dynamite and follow us." Hayley, sniffing as tears overcame her again, slowly picked up sticks of dynamite until she could no longer carry any more. There were six in her hands. McCreedie, with Kiera at gunpoint led her onto a jutting rock some ten meters away. The rock was shaped so as to overhang the loch slightly and provided a good place to launch the dynamite from. Moving backwards up the rock with Kiera behind him, McCreedie placed himself at the edge.

  "Give me a stick, Blondie," ordered McCreedie. Hayley couldn't look at him but offered a stick and then retreated.

  "Don't do this," offered the Chief Constable one last time. “They'll put you away for a long time."

  "For killing mermaids, I doubt it, cop. Switch the lighter on, bitch." Kiera did as she was told and McCreedie leaned forward with the stick. The fuse lit and McCreedie straightened up to throw the dynamite. There was an eruption in the water as a merman leapt out and caught McCreedie's shoulder with a flick of its tail. Kiera felt the gun move off her head and took her chance. Driving her elbow backwards, and directly into McCreedie's manhood, Kiera let out a shriek as all her pent up tension was released with brutal force. McCreedie buckled, dropping the dynamite and fell backwards into the water. The water became violently agitated as fins and limbs could be seen repeatedly surfacing.

  Running forward, Donald grabbed hold of the burning stick of dynamite as it toppled back towards the watching audience. Although it was his left hand, he instantly hurled the stick which exploded some three seconds later before the dynamite had hit the ground. The force sent a few watchers to the ground but did no damage to any onlookers. Donald looked up to see a weeping Kiera running and then falling on top of him, clutching him tight, holding on for as if her life was still in the balance.

  He turned to look at her and she mouthed "I can't lose you."

  "I know, Kiera, I know."

  Without giving a damn about anyone else, Donald took her in his arms frantically kissed her, before settling into a longer and deeper kiss. Kiera broke off, just as Donald was ready for another.

  "Sorry, Laura's foot. I need to…" Donald nodded and stayed put as he watched Kiera race to Laura.

  It was at least a minute, Tommy reckoned, before they could pull McCreedie from the water. He was battered, bruised and bleeding but alive unlike his brother. Hayley was clinging on like the end of the world had just been averted. But Tommy didn't care. She was clinging on.

  Breathing heavily, exhausted from the tension, the Chief Constable scanned the scene in front of him. After calling for ambulances, placing an officer over the dynamite, sorting out the wounded and making sure the guns were disarmed, he took a moment to look at the now peaceful loch where the mer-people had resurfaced. They were swimming around, looking at the activity on the shore, some cradling small ones, others performing dives and somersaults.

  They’re glorious, wonderful creatures, he thought. Then the vision of interviews, followed by paperwork, then the press conferences appeared before him. Bloody mermaids, he thought.

  26

  Reflection

  (Eighteen Months Later)

  Fanning her face with a rolled up newspaper, Kiera sat beside the fire and watched Donald swimming in the sea. Mackerel spat and fizzed on the grill which occasionally sent a blast of smoke into her eyes. Sitting there, she realised her contentment, her peace with the world. After losing her friend nearly two years ago, she had reached a point of healing, and one of the main balms had been Donald.

  The time with the mermaid had changed him. No, thought Kiera, not changed, just brought his true self to the surface. She remembered how that night after McCreedie had fallen into the loch, Donald had taken her down to this very beach, away from all the hubbub and noise surrounding those fantastical creatures. It had been a cool night, and she had shivered in his fleece as he dropped onto one knee. She had cried for joy and then laughed when he said, "let's do it tomorrow." But her eyes caught his and with a lump in her throat she realised he meant tomorrow.

  How, where, who would be there? Kiera had peppered Donald with questions. And he said with Murdo. But what about her Catholic folks back in Ireland? How would they accept a Protestant wedding? So he had rung the priest at 6 a.m. The phone call remained with her. Donald pleading with a man still in his pyjamas. Then a whirl of activity, and she was standing in the recovery ward side room, taking a ring upon her finger. Reverend McKinney and her priest presiding, Hayley with her bruised face and Alyssa with her painful shoulder, holding their bridesmaid's flowers. Tommy and James, standing with Donald and some nurses looking on, of which one rotund older lady was constantly in tears. And Laura, foot up in a wheelchair, just smiling and nodding her approval.

  Donald's mother hadn't been impressed, but she had attended the registry office when they had completed the civil part of the marriage. That had taken time and a little more formality but by then they were already a husband and wife, enjoying each other to the full, wondering how long this happiness could last. Well, it had lasted over a year.

  Other things had changed since then. Kiera looked at Alyssa who sat in the deck chai
r, beside her with a parasol stuck in the ground, providing shade. Once an admired girl displaying her charms on various beaches for all to see, she still had her shirt open, exposed. But now there were two small human bundles finding their sustenance from their mother with an adoring father who was currently kneeling at Alyssa's feet, fetching whatever she required for her motherly duties. After the mermaid excitement had died down, Kiera had been surprised that James and Alyssa had keep it going, for they seemed to be from such different worlds. She had returned to modelling although everything was clothed now, her scar preventing any further glamour work. But she kept coming back to the island, or rather to James, and now they had set up a home together.

  "I didn't think they would make it." Kiera turned to see Laura hobbling up to her. She had lost a few toes from the rifle shot and now had to use a crutch for balance. Sitting, she took Kiera's hand. "No, I put them down to part ways. Glad I was wrong."

  "Her getting pregnant probably helped," replied Kiera.

  "No, Kiera. If she hadn't have wanted him, the kids would have ripped them apart. She's found what she wants, and with her modelling still intact she's got to have her cake and eat it." Laura smiled.

  "But you did help them. Giving her a place to stay when she was up. Helping her with the trauma. Does she still have the nightmares?"

  "Oh, yes, poor thing. But she copes. No, they cope." Laura turned away to look at her own husband standing halfway down to the water's edge, looking out to sea.

  "How is Murdo? It wasn't right what they did. I feel responsible."

  "Stop that right now. He made his choice, and I stood with him. If people can't accept these things, it's their issue. He had every right to marry you."

  "But they threw him out, Laura. After all he had done in that parish, they threw him out, just for letting Father McGinley give a blessing. I mean it's the same God, the same Jesus."

  "I know, Kiera. But not the same church. Not Jesus' church. But don't fret for Murdo. His trips to the mainland working on the streets of the capital have changed him. He's moving forward, closer to our God. That's what we want."