by JE Hunter
Dinner was awful, and it wasn't because of the food, it was because of the cooks. I ate my battered fish, corn on the cob, and ketchup chips in utter agony. Did Caesar and Shia really have to laugh so much while cooking?
I slipped into my tent, putting on my turquoise hoodie, dark green toque, and matching green mitts. When I came back out, everyone was sitting around the fire. I joined them around the orange and yellow flames, which warmed the front of me but left my back chilled in the rapidly cooling September evening. The fire illuminated the small circle of new friends and classmates I was slowly getting to know.
Colleen, who’d entered the tent just as I’d vacated it, returned wearing the purple hoodie I’d bought her with my emergency credit card. She sat down on the log beside me, wrapping her arms around herself. “I'm so cold.”
“If you sit here for a while you’ll warm up. But no more late night swimming—not when you no longer have a nice warm house to sleep in.”
Colleen smiled mischievously. “I couldn't help it. All selkies love swimming at sunset. There's just something so serene about the reflection on the water. This coast has the best sunsets of them all.”
I smiled. “It was the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. The fish you caught for supper was amazing, by the way.”
Colleen shook her head. “I really didn't have much to do with that other than catching it. Shia did all the cooking with Caesar.”
“I noticed.”
Colleen's head turned sharply in my direction. “You don't sound very happy about that.”
“Do you think he likes her?” I asked, looking across the fire to where Caesar was strumming on a guitar—a talent I hadn't realized he had until tonight. Shia was right by his side, looking beautiful with her long dark hair and pale skin.
Colleen scrunched up her nose. “Why would I care who Caesar likes? You shouldn't care either, Nessa. How many times do I have to tell you that he's no good for you?”
“He's a good guy. He cooks, he plays the guitar, he volunteers. He listens.”
Colleen's eyes flashed. “Have you been talking to him?”
“Yes.”
“Nessa –“
“I'm allowed to talk to whomever I want; stop telling me whom I can and can’t be friends with.” I took the last sip of rum and juice from my canteen.
Colleen shivered. “He’s the reason my dad’s missing—possibly even dead. Just try to understand how I feel. What if he was the one responsible for your dad’s accident? I'm just looking out for you. Have you forgot what they did to me last year?”
“You're looking out for you.” I stood up. “I'm going to sit with Amynta.”
The siren waved at me the minute she saw me heading in her direction. “Nessa, come and sit down. It’s time for the ghost stories.” She was wearing her thick white sweater and was cuddled up next to Markus. She looked warm. I peeked over at Caesar. He didn't notice me.
“Thanks for the seat. But I don't think I need any ghost stories. Not after last night.”
“Oh, right. But these are just for fun. And we’re safe here. You have all of us to watch over you–”
“And the boundary,” I said it before she could, causing her eyebrows to shift downward.
“Seriously, Nessa. You’re safe here.”
I nodded, focusing my gaze on Juan, who was leaning close to the fire, patiently waiting to tell his tale. Colleen caught my gaze from across the flames. I couldn't tell if she was angry or hurt, but she definitely wasn't smiling.
Amynta passed me her canteen. “Do you want a sip?” she whispered.
I took the canteen just as Juan began telling a story about a pirate and British sea captain—a true history that was unlike anything I'd ever read in the history books.
Juan's story was amazing. But Nor—one of the first year mermaids—followed it with an even better story about a merman who got lost during a hunt and had to sell his scales one by one in order to find his way home to his true love. But when he arrived home he discovered he’d been tricked by an evil octopus who'd used the scales to transform into a merman and marry his true love in his absence. I couldn't help but look at Caesar as Nor told his story. Caesar was riveted by Nor's voice and storytelling ability, and didn't move his eyes from Nor's face. I took another sip from Amynta’s canteen as Nor finished his tale. Once he was finished, Telmath stood up. His vodiani hair—recently shorn due to his transformation during class—stood on end and swayed.
“Now I will tell you the story of the kurage,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice, pulling everyone in. “Years and years and years ago, in a small village on the coast of Japan, lived an evil man. This man was human and he was a fisherman. He caught all the fish for his village. This man was also a farmer and grew all of the vegetables for his village. For this food, the man charged the villagers all the gold they possessed, and he became rich and powerful to the point where he could have whatever he wanted. So it was that he began to believe he was the God-Of-All-Things. Even when the villagers began to grow sick and weak, he still charged them more than they could afford for the food that they desperately needed.
“Just outside of the village lived a sea-witch who had many children, but her children were sick and no matter what she did, no matter what she asked of Sea, her children did not get better. She thought she must have angered Sea, and she spent her days and nights wandering the coast and the sea floor, trying to figure what she had done to earn the wrath of Sea. This is how she discovered the fisherman’s secret. The fisherman had invented a device that when placed in water, would kill all the fish for miles and miles around. The dead fish would float to the surface, and the fisherman would pluck their still forms from the surface of the water until his boat was full, and then he would go back to his village, leaving many, many dead fish on the surface of the water, wasted.
“Sea did not like the fisherman abusing her gift, but was unable to do anything about it. But one day, the sea-witch discovered the fisherman’s secret, and knowing what he did was wrong, she set out to stop him. Under the dark of the night, the sea-witch crept onto shore, and into the large, empty house of the fisherman, who did not have a family. She carried with her ten dead jellyfish and a bucket of seaweed. The fisherman was asleep when she found him, but the minute she touched his skin with the first jellyfish, the fisherman woke up, grabbing a knife, stabbing the sea-witch. She was weakened, but she managed to use her magic to ensnare the fisherman in the seaweed. She told the fisherman that Sea was angry with him for taking advantage of the resources that should be available for everyone.
“The fisherman had no remorse. He said he was God-of-All-Things and tried to bribe the sea-witch by offering her money and doctors to heal her children. But the sea-witch recognized evil when she saw it. With the help of Sea, even as her own life slowly bled out of her, she spun her magic, binding the fisherman to the dead jellyfish, transforming him into a creature that was half man, and half jellyfish, half alive and half dead, and half visible and half invisible—for Sea wanted this man to live a half-life, part on land and part in the water, so that he would know that he would never be more powerful than Sea.
“And so it was that the fisherman was turned into the kurage, a poisonous, invisible jellyfish at high tide, and a human at low tide. He is forced to forever live a cursed life, unable to have a family, or to fit in with either the human world or the Neptunian one. And as the kurage slunk into the sea, the sea-witch collapsed, near death. But Sea would not let her die. A giant wave washed onto the shore, demolishing the fisherman’s old house, and carrying the body of the sea-witch into the water, where Sea breathed new life into her lungs.
“When she returned to land, the sea-witch found all of her children happily waiting for her, their illness gone. So let it be a lesson, that Sea will reward what is good, and will curse all that is bad.”
There was a moment of silence once Telmath ended the tale. Caesar pulled out his guitar and began strumming. Shia went over to
Caesar, begging him to teach her how to play her favourite songs. Everyone began moving around, and the sea-nymphs started dancing. I stood up, stretching my arms overhead.
“I’m hungry,” Amynta said, rubbing her stomach. “I’m going to see if I can dig up ingredients for the s’mores you taught me how to make—they're delicious. Do you want to come?”
“Of course,” Markus said in his deep Russian voice.
I shook my head. The moon had risen from the horizon, reflecting brightly on the water. “No, I think I’ll go for a walk.”
Amynta looked disappointed, then she looked over at Caesar and Shia and back at me. She was beginning to remind me of Marnie when she did that: figured out what I was thinking. “Okay, don’t be gone too long though.”
“I won’t. I’m only going down to the water.” I left the group silently, disappointed at my own inability to find a way to hang out with Caesar without incurring Colleen’s wrath. As I left, I noticed Colleen had begun playing cards with Kyle and his cousins; she didn't even notice my departure.
A steady breeze made me shiver. I wrapped my arms around myself, holding in what heat I could. Once I’d moved away from the group, I could hear the ocean calling to me. Each swish of a wave cresting on the beach echoed through my soul, lulling me with the most beautiful song in the world. It was like each rise and fall of the water was tied to my soul, expanding me to the horizon. I walked down to the beach, tossing away my worries and becoming part of the water, of the tide, and of the soul of the ocean itself. I could almost hear it telling me to let go, to become one, to forget my earthbound self and ride away on its endless waves. I let the peace and calm wash over me, and walked, paying no attention to where I was heading or how far I had gone. The tide was high, and the beach was much smaller now than it had been when we'd played water polo earlier. All the movement was making me warm. I pulled off my toque, stuffing it into the pocket of my hoodie, letting my red hair roam free.
The thing that shocked me out of my relaxed state was the sound. I turned my head to the right, sure that I'd heard someone walking in the underbrush—the sound of human footsteps was rather unmistakable. The hunter, was my first thought. But then I remembered the boundary, and all the assurances that I was safe as long as I was on this side of it.
Another footstep. This time I took a step toward the noise, sure that I was being followed and that one or more of the pirates or sea-nymphs was trying to play a joke on me. The only light I had was from the moon, filtering through the trunks of the tall, broad trees, bathing everything in a pale blue light. I turned on my flashlight for a better look. I pointed the beam into the forest, gasping when the light reflected brightly back at me. There was something—or someone—in the woods.
“Hello, who’s there?” I walked slowly forward, straining my ears to listen.
I took ten steps. A branch snapped to my immediate right. I whipped around. Something hard hit my hand. My flashlight went flying. I screamed. My heart pounded. Something slammed into me. I fell to the ground kicking. My foot made contact with something solid and I heard someone groan. I screamed again, crawling over the mossy forest floor until I reached a tree I could press my back against. I held my breath, hoping that the hunter couldn’t find me.