03 The Fate Of The Muse - Marina's Tales

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03 The Fate Of The Muse - Marina's Tales Page 21

by Derrolyn Anderson


  I tossed in bed for hours, watching fast-moving high clouds alternately cover and reveal the bright moon in my window. It enthralled me with its blue light and then disappeared, reminding me that I shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts of surfing. I rolled over and tried not to look, but I was being jerked around like a marionette in a perverse game of peek-a-boo. I finally sat up in bed, unable to lie still one second longer.

  Without even thinking, I automatically reached for my bag and started to slip on my wetsuit. Once I got down to the dark and deserted beach I zipped up, donning my hood, booties and gloves for extra protection against the cold night breeze. I had a good five hours before the first glimmers of breaking dawn would signal me to start for home, and I trembled inside with anticipation.

  “Lorelei!” I threw my head back and called her, sitting up on my board on the blustery nighttime sea. She arrived swiftly, as excited by the moon as I was, ready to play.

  “Marina! Let’s go see Nixie!”

  Why not? I thought, there was plenty of time. I went prone on my board, relaxing and letting Lorelei take me out to the wild waves. I let go of everything, all my fears, desires and ambitions. Being with my mermaid sisters was like a vacation from thinking, a state of grace with all logic and responsibility washed way. My father would have hated it, but I knew that my mother craved it even more than I did.

  Nixie and Nerissa’s glowing heads appeared out of the foggy night sea, as excited about my nocturnal visit as they ever were. I wondered if it was my imagination, but in just the few days since I’d seen her, Nixie appeared to have gotten a little bigger. At this rate she’d be fully grown within a few year’s time.

  I watched as she greeted Lorelei with enthusiasm, wrapping chubby arms around her neck. They tossed and rolled in an exuberant reunion dance, a wild and fluid ballet that seemed to be an expression of pure joy.

  We surfed under the black velvet sky, each one of us lost in the power of the ocean’s rhythms. The mermaids tackled the surf with complete focus, obsessively gliding through each wave as if it were the very first one, never seeming to tire. I could feel myself growing weaker, increasingly having to pause and rest my shaking legs. I told Lorelei that I needed to stop and she pulled me out to calm water.

  “That was fun,” I sighed wearily, “But I need to go home now.”

  “This is your home. We are your sisters.”

  I rolled my eyes at her, too tired to argue, but my sarcastic look was completely lost on her, and she took my silence as a sign I was considering her suggestion.

  “You should stay!” she cried, as if the thought just occurred to her. If she wasn’t being exasperatingly vague, she was annoyingly persistent. I wondered if she’d ever stop asking me.

  “Yes! Swim with us!” Nixie chimed in, tugging at my wrist.

  I smiled weakly down at her, “No. I have to go back to the land.”

  Nerissa rested her cheek on the end of my board, “She’s going to leave,” she sighed, tracing the wave design printed on my surfboard with her finger.

  I relaxed on the tow back to Aptos, and was deposited on the beach in the densest fog I’d ever seen. I hauled my board ashore and trudged onto the wet sand with a satisfying feeling of tiredness. There were faint strains of music in the background, and I looked around the foggy darkness suspiciously, unable to make out more than just the sand around me. I hauled the board up the beach, feeling my way to the dry sand, plunking down with a grunt to take off my boots and gloves. Suddenly, the fog swirled and parted to reveal a large ship docked at the end of a pier, rows of lights along its side burning through the swirling mist.

  I startled, and sprang to my feet in confusion. Where had Lorelei brought me? The dense fog moved back in, obscuring my view of the ship and its surroundings. My heart beat in my throat as I looked around for any sign of a landmark to get my bearings, hoping I wasn’t too far from home.

  A lone figure walking along the shoreline approached me, and I tensed up, ready to ditch my board and break into a run. As it drew closer, the silhouette of a young girl was revealed in the faint misty light. She wore a vintage polka-dot party dress that nipped in tightly at the waist, with cap sleeves and a petticoated full skirt. A pair of high heels dangled from her hand, swinging to and fro as she walked along the shoreline barefoot. Her dark hair was softly waved and rolled up at the sides. She seemed oddly familiar, and yet I was certain I’d never seen her before.

  I couldn’t imagine what she was up to, dressed like that, all alone in the middle of the night. I found myself staring at the incongruous sight as she drew near, singing to herself softly and staring straight ahead. I stood watching her silently, and just when I thought she was going to pass right by me without any acknowledgement she paused.

  She looked up at me with a sly smile, wagging a finger at me, “Hey Kiddo, I see you’re up your old tricks again. You best be careful, because that big cheese is still out to get you. You got a real hellhound on your trail.”

  “What?”

  She put her hands on her hips, leaning towards me with a gentle, knowing look, “They already pulled the wool over your eyes once… Gosh! Whoever woulda thought that creep was in cahoots with his sis?”

  “Um, excuse me, but I’m afraid you must be–”

  “Listen Dollface, things aren’t always the way they seem. You be on the lookout!” She smiled warmly and continued on her way down the beach, shoes swinging alongside her billowing skirt.

  When I finally recognized Stella’s voice, my knees gave out. I was kneeling on the sand when she called back over her shoulder, “And watch out for that red-headed dame. She sure gives me the heebie jeebies!”

  When I looked up again she’d disappeared into the fog. I was trembling, shaking with a combination of fatigue and shock when the swirling fog receded again, revealing the wrecked hull of the cement ship, sitting low in the water. I don’t know how long I sat there, awestruck, but finally, when the first blush of a pretty pink dawn brightened the horizon I staggered home to bed.

  I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow, and surprisingly, I slept soundly. At noon I woke to look out my window onto Abby’s beautiful sunny garden. It always reminded me of Ethan, and I wished he was in it. Last night seemed like a dream, but I knew that I’d seen Stella again, only this time she’d delivered a warning, and her confusing words replayed endlessly in my mind.

  The redhead she mentioned must be Olivia, but I didn’t need to be warned to be wary of her. It struck me as odd that Stella would appear to me as her younger self, and I wondered if perhaps the warning she sent had been meant for my mother. Maybe it was some sort of wrinkle in time, like a recording of an exchange that had really occurred long ago.

  My mind kept straying back to Stella. The second time around, the thought of seeing a ghost didn’t seem as weird, and I wondered what Ethan would think if I told him. When I told him, I reminded myself.

  If I was going to stop him from working himself to death, then I had to change too. I knew that my secretive nature only made him more anxious. Maybe if I could learn to be more open, he could learn to deflect my influence, and gain the immunity to my muse powers that he clearly had to Evie’s.

  I spent the rest of the day with Abby, painting the walls of the nursery a soft sky blue and standing on a chair to brush some fluffy white clouds across the ceiling. I finished off the room with a border of vines twining up and around the window.

  “I can add some pink flowers later,” I smiled at her, “If it’s a girl…”

  She laughed, rubbing her belly as she addressed it, “Hear that sweetie?” Dutch and Abby had decided to wait to find out the sex, repeating the old saying that they didn’t care what it was, as long as it was healthy. Abby sat down in her new rocking chair with a little groan and watched me paint.

  “Is everything okay with you?” she asked, “Are you and Ethan getting along?”

  “I’m fine,” I reassured her, “Ethan and I are going to spend the whole day toge
ther tomorrow.”

  “That’s good,” she rocked slowly, “He could use a day off. He sure has been working harder than usual lately.”

  I nodded in agreement, all of my worst fears confirmed.

  Charlie the cat slept curled up alongside me that night, purring madly whenever I stirred as if to try and entice me to stay. I patted him absently, and though I was tempted by the siren call of the waves, I denied myself the satisfaction. Ethan was coming early, and he said I’d need my rest. I wondered what great new surfing break he’d show me, and I remembered our trip to Monterey with a shiver of anticipation.

  I tried not to dwell on Stella, but eerie dreams plucked at my mind all night long, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the afterlife and what it might be like for her. It was funny, for Ethan thought her passing made me doubt my choice to remain mortal; on the contrary– I had a renewed faith that I was exactly where I was meant to be. Stella had shown me that common ordinary people could be every bit as mysterious and amazing as mermaids.

  I was reminded of a line from another Shakespeare play, and I struggled to recall it. “There are more things in heaven and earth”, I remembered it going, “than are dreamt of in your philosophy”.

  Evie certainly understood this, but I wondered what my father and Ethan would think of my ghostly sightings. I pet the cat again and rolled onto my side, snuggling deeper under the covers. I was going to do my best to make tomorrow a perfect day.

  My fate was in my own hands.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  RIDE

  Sunlight streaming into my little room woke me up, and I rolled out of bed and hurried into the kitchen. Ethan was already there, talking with Abby and politely eating her tofu scramble. When he looked up to see me his face broke into my favorite smile, and only Abby’s presence kept me from hurling myself onto his lap.

  “Good morning sunshine!” she chirped, “Let me get you a plate.”

  “OK, but just a little,” I shrugged, smiling at Ethan. If he could take it, so could I. Abby set a plate of unappetizing looking white and green mush before me with a brilliant smile.

  “It’s a new recipe… with kale,” she announced proudly. “Greens are very good for you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, meeting Ethan’s amused eyes and taking a bite defiantly, “Where’s Dutch?”

  “He had another fishing charter this morning. Boy, business sure is picking up ever since he got the new boat!”

  I avoided looking at Ethan, assuming he’d still be wearing a knowing smile to tease me. I shoveled the rest of the mushy tofu in my mouth and sprang up from the table, putting my plate in the sink and announcing I was off to get dressed.

  “Where are you two going today?” asked Abby.

  “It’s a surprise,” Ethan told her.

  I turned around with a smile, “I’ll go fetch my wetsuit.”

  “Nope,” he said, “We’re not going surfing.” He got up and walked to the counter, looking back at Abby, “Do you mind if I take a couple of these?” he gestured to a bowl of small apples on the counter.

  “Sure honey,” Abby smiled.

  I raced for my room with a lighthearted feeling of suspense, curious as to what he had planned. I brushed my hair and slipped on some jeans, topping them with a pretty green blouse embroidered with white daisies. Ethan stood with a smile as I climbed in the truck, leaning over to plant a kiss on my cheek before he closed the door. He drove us inland, to the park in the woods at the base of the redwood forest.

  “Are we going hiking?” I asked, looking down at the flimsy ballet flats on my feet.

  “Nope,” he smiled at me, driving further up the country road. He continued on, turning into a gravel driveway and going under an arch with a bunch of horseshoes nailed across the span. A carved wooden sign read, “Skyline Riding Stables”. My stomach dropped, and I looked over at him with wide eyes.

  “Horses? No way.”

  He grinned at me, pulling into a parking area alongside a big barn and oval arena, “Yes way.”

  I looked at the saddled horses standing behind the fence, and suddenly felt like I was a scared seven year old again, “I’m not going,” I announced, tensing up.

  He looked surprised, “You’re kidding, right?”

  I shook my head no, biting my lip, “I can’t.”

  “You’re afraid of horses?” he asked incredulously.

  “I had a bad experience when I was little,” I said with a shudder.

  He reeled back in his seat, “Lemme get this straight… You go surfing at night… at the point… and you’re afraid of riding horses?”

  “I’m not going,” I repeated.

  He looked puzzled, “I thought you loved animals.”

  “Not big scary ones that can hurt you.”

  His brow knit together, and he got out of the car deliberately, coming around to my side and opening the door, holding out his hand, “C’mon, let’s just go see them.”

  “I’m not getting on one.”

  “Come on,” he said firmly, offering me his hand.

  I took it and climbed out of the truck reluctantly. He slipped his arm around my waist and steered me towards the horses in the corral. One was dappled grey with a silvery mane and tail, the other, a rich chestnut brown with a white star on its forehead.

  Their heads turned towards us, large brown eyes regarding us with curiosity. Ethan called to them, speaking in a low, soft voice, and I was surprised to see them turn and slowly plod towards us. I squeezed his hand a little tighter and he pulled me right up to the fence where the two horses converged on us, snorting softly through their wide nostrils.

  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Ethan asked as he dropped my hand and reached out to pat the gray one’s jaw. It flinched a little, but held its ground. He continued crooning soft reassuring words to the big animal, taking an apple from his other hand and passing it through the fence. The horse snuffed at it gently and delicately gripped the fruit with its lips, working it back into its mouth and chomping away happily.

  Now the other horse nudged the first one out of the way, its curiosity piqued. Ethan handed me the other apple and instructed me to offer it flat on my palm.

  “How do you know it won’t bite my hand off?” I asked, having noticed the size of the first one’s teeth.

  “Don’t worry, they’re vegetarian,” he teased me.

  “We should have brought them the tofu,” I grumbled, gingerly reaching through the fence with the apple cradled in my palm. The horse looked at me with big calm eyes and took my peace offering. Its warm breath and velvety lips tickled my palm and I giggled nervously, pulling my hand back and wiping it on my jeans.

  “See?” said Ethan, “He likes you.”

  “Bribery works wonders.”

  I felt a little braver and reached out to stroke its cheek, running my hand down its strong neck. The horse stepped closer, lifting its head over the top rung of the fence and pressing its nose into my shoulder.

  “You should ride that one,” Ethan said, laughing.

  I was afraid to move, “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? It’s fun.”

  I described the spill I’d taken at the polo match with a grimace. A dog had spooked the horse I was sitting on, making it bolt and rear up. I clung onto it as long as I could, but it finally flung me off, dragging me a little ways until I rolled down into a ditch. As bad as the accident was, what had really frightened me was the look on Evie’s face when she reached me.

  I could still remember the blood, and the sharp sting as she picked the gravel out of my scrapes. I suppose I’d connected those feelings to the horse, and I’d avoided getting on one ever since. I knew it wasn’t very rational, but it had never really come up before today.

  The horse nudged me gently, as if in sympathy, and I smiled despite myself.

  “So… since when have you been such a cowboy?” I asked.

  “I used to go away to summer camp a lot when I was a kid. There was always h
orseback riding there.”

  “Really?” I was surprised. I suppose I’d always imagined him at the beach, surfing the summers away with his friends.

  “I think dad needed a place to stash me when he was off working,” he said.

  “After your mom left?” I asked.

  “And before. I think she wanted to get rid of me too.”

  I put my hand on his back, “That can’t be true,” I said softly.

  He shrugged it off, turning towards me with a smile, “Remember after I got hurt… and you told me that I needed to get back on that horse?”

  “That was a metaphor.”

  “And this is the perfect time to practice what you preach.”

  “You would remember that,” I grumbled.

  “I remember everything you tell me,” he said, brushing past the horse and coming in sideways for a kiss. He wound his hands in my hair and pulled me close, covering my mouth with his. I would have followed him just about anywhere at that moment.

  The sound of a throat clearing behind us brought me crashing back to reality. I looked up to see a mustachioed man, standing bow-legged and pigeon toed, regarding us with annoyed amusement.

  “You my nine o’clocks?” he asked.

  The next thing I knew, I was back in the saddle, and it wasn’t bad at all. My horse walked along the narrow trail behind Ethan’s, and I listened as the soft thumping of hooves on dirt pounded out a rhythm. The steady rocking motion reminded me of ocean swells, relaxing me. I might as well be on a surfboard, I thought, surprising myself by wishing we could go faster.

  Ethan turned back to check on me, “How are you doing?”

  I smiled, “Giddyup, cowboy.”

  I saw my horse’s ears swivel back towards me at the sound of my voice, and I had the strangest sensation that it had understood me. It picked up the pace a little, nudging Ethan’s horse in the flank. I reached down to pat its neck, grateful for its calm, steady bearing. It was nothing like the high-strung, skittish polo pony I remembered.

 

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