Silver Light

by J. R. Rain

  “Gerald and I need to umm.” She’s quiet for a few seconds. “We need to ‘make arrangements’ for David and Christina. They umm…”

  Hearing her fight tears gets me choked up. “I’ll help out. Tell me what you need.”

  “We need to identify them and make arrangements with the funeral home… and there’s some lawyer we need to see about Hannah. They want to make sure we can take care of her. David’s will names us as guardians in the event something happened to him, but at our age, social services wants to make sure.”

  Gerald mumbles something about a formality in the background.

  The light changes and we creep forward. I’m not even in a hurry, but the driver is going so slow, I’m getting angry. “Idiot.”

  “That’s what I said.” Lorraine sighs. “But, we need to spend a few hours at this and we were hoping you’d be able to sit with Hannah so she’s not alone.”

  Gerald murmurs.

  “I know there’s a police officer here, but Hannah doesn’t know her. She knows you, Ms. Silver. She trusts you.”

  All the animosity that I’ve been building up for Mr. Civic pops like a balloon. I grin. “Of course. I’ll be there as soon as traffic allows. How’s she doing?”

  “We’re still at the hospital,” says Lorraine. “They wanted to keep her another day for observation and to see a psychiatrist.”

  “I’m sure it’s routine. I’ll be there soon.”

  Yes! I cheer to myself. Changing course will get me out from behind this moron.

  “Thank you so much.” Lorraine sniffles and clears her throat. “We’ll be here until you arrive.”

  Our call ends with a pop from the Rubi’s speakers, and a second later, The Box Tops’ The Letter resumes playing. One thing about the sixties, the music was awesome. I escape the ‘nowhere to be and all day to get there Civic’ at the next intersection with a right turn that squeals my Rubi’s tires. Maybe I’m a little too happy to get out from behind him. Maybe I’m going a bit fast.

  Yeah. The flashing lights in my mirror confirm that. Only nine over the limit; this cop’s either hunting quota or he wants my number.

  I pull over and wait, the police interceptor nosing straight up my ass. Hey, at least buy Rubi dinner first. A minute or two later, a cop walks up to my door. He doesn’t look a day over twenty, short buzz-cut, sunglasses, and probably more than a few steroids. Nope, this guy wasn’t after my number, he’s new. The rookies haven’t quite worked out that whole ‘leave people alone until they’re more than ten over the limit’ thing.

  As soon as he makes eye contact, his ‘I’m the king of the road’ drill sergeant face melts into the expression of an eager puppy. He stares at me with a vapid smile, probably without a single idea remaining in his head to explain why he’s standing next to my Jeep.

  “Is there a problem, officer?” I ask in a sweet tone.

  “No, ma’am.” He continues staring into my eyes. “I… Umm. What do you want?”

  My smile grows into a grin. “I’m just so thankful you decided to let me know my third taillight didn’t come on. I promise I’ll get it fixed right away.”

  “Yeah.” His posture slackens and he leans on my door, twirling a bit of my hair around his finger. “You should get that taillight fixed soon. They’re important, but not as important as you being safe… and happy.”

  Hitting him a little hard, are we?

  Oh hush. It’s not me. It’s him. This guy’s so lonely, I’m half-tempted to date him for a couple months so he loosens up.

  He looks like the type who adores controlling everything. No wonder he’s alone.

  Yeah well.

  “I appreciate your concern.” I keep on my ‘innocent girl’ voice. “You know what scares me?”

  His eyes widen. “No. What? Tell me.”

  I make a demure face. “There’s bad people out in the city doing bad things. Would you be a dear and keep me safe from them?”

  “Yeah, sure! Right away.” He grins and starts to walk away, but stops as a bit of his training kicks in. “Uhh, you drive safe now, all right?”

  “Will do. Thank you, Officer.”

  I stare at him via the rearview mirror as he walks back to his car and gets in. As soon as the mars bar shuts off, I signal and pull into traffic. Damn, I love being a mermaid.

  A short while later―after driving only five over the limit―I arrive at the hospital while House of the Rising Sun blares from my speakers. There’s a small line of cars waiting to get into the parking garage. I wind up grumbling, tapping my fingers on the wheel while fuming at the idiot in the enormous SUV with a lift who isn’t sure if his truck will fit. The guy in front of me thinks his car horn is a musical instrument. Of course, he’s so close to the SUV, it can’t back out. Eventually, SUV guy decides to chance it, and rolls forward at an excruciating pace with less than an inch of clearance.

  Finally.

  The Bird is the Word starts on the radio.

  Oh, hell no. I’ll be humming that all day. I shut off the console five seconds into the song and drive into the depths of the Hospital parking deck. As soon as I reach the bottom of the first ramp, my inner warning sense begins buzzing in my ears. It’s faint, but noticeable. When I park and step out, the buzz intensifies.

  Motion attracts the eye of predators. Humans have that predatory instinct, and my kind even more so. A shift in the shadows to my left draws my attention. Heavy scuffing shoes and a waft of their scents tell me two men watch me from behind a concrete column.

  Great. This is the jinx trip from hell. First, I get pulled over, now some yahoo wants to grab my purse. Watch, the elevator’s going to die on me. Maybe I should take the stairs.

  Sure enough, as soon as I close my Rubi’s door and start walking, two figures slip out and follow me. I’m not in the mood for subtle, so I stop and whirl around.

  “Something I can do for you two?” I ask, my voice hard as steel.

  They take off running in two different directions.

  Figures. Probably thought they’d found some timid little dame they could drag into a dark corner who wouldn’t put up much of a fight. Only reason I can think of they’d skedaddle so fast is that they’re terrified of being arrested. I saw them coming and they didn’t want to risk me screaming, or worse, putting up a fight that gets them caught.

  They’re out of sight too fast for me to read their thoughts, but the Stricklands are waiting for me, so I can’t go chasing these two idiots around the parking garage. I hurry to the elevator and go up to the hospital’s ground floor. After a quick stop at the security desk to let them know there’s a pair of thugs in the garage who tried to do something, I head across to the wing where Hannah’s room is.

  The girl’s sitting up in bed playing with a handheld video game, her plush unicorn seated dutifully at her side. Gerald and Lorraine stand and approach as soon as I walk in.

  “Thank you for coming.” Lorraine grabs my hand.

  “Sorry it took so long. I’m having a weird morning. Traffic. Every single red light.” I roll my eyes.

  Gerald nods. “Appreciate you doing this for us.”

  “She’s scared,” whispers Lorraine. “The police came by to ask her about… that man with the needle. Idiots. She had no idea.”

  “Why would they do that? They know she was unconscious at the time.” I massage the bridge of my nose.

  “She told us you saved her from that raft.” Lorraine raises an eyebrow. “She trusts you.”

  So much for secrets. “I’ve had a bit of practice diving, so I decided to try and find the boat. Happened to spot the bright yellow raft, and found her. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not make it public.” I lower my voice to a near-whisper. “I did tow her to that boat. It was the fastest way to get her off that raft and into a warm place with water.”

  “People on that boat saw something under the water in front of the raft. They seemed to think it was a person, but one guy admitted it might’a been a dolphin.” Gerald scratch
es his head. “‘Course, they also said that raft was moving pretty fast.”

  I raise my left hand and tap my forearm. “My dive suit has little pods with electric fans and a battery backpack. The rig lets me swim faster than an unassisted diver, but if they called me a speedboat, they were exaggerating. I’d prefer keeping out of the spotlight. I’m happy enough that I was able to find her in time.”

  Lorraine hugs me with unexpected strength while Gerald stuffs his hands in his pants pockets and gives me a solemn nod.

  “We’ll never be able to thank you for that.” She sniffles. “I don’t think I could have handled it if we lost all of them.”

  Gerald wipes at his eyes.

  If not for being what I am… A strong thought of gratitude gets Licinia to squirm around at the back of my mind. It’s been a long damn time since anyone regarded her with emotions beyond fear or loathing. Even as a mortal, the last decade or so of her life had inspired terror in everyone who came near her―even her youngest child. Hardened Roman soldiers who’d been sent to beseech her aid had quaked like schoolboys under her gaze. Even Tiberius himself, when meeting her in secret, had kept quiet and hesitant in her presence. For the first time since we’d become this combined presence, my feelings leave her speechless.

  “‘Lexa!” says Hannah.

  “That’s our cue.” Lorraine smiles. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. Thank you again.”

  “Yes, thanks.” Gerald pats me on the arm as he walks by.

  I walk over to Hannah and flop in the chair between the bed and the window. “Hey there.”

  She pulls out the earbuds from her game, spins the wire into a quick bundle, and drops it on the blanket in front of her crossed legs. “Is it true?”

  This could go in several directions. “Is what true?”

  Hannah bites her lip while staring at me. She bows her head, causing a waterfall of blonde to hide her face. “Did someone try ta hurt me when I was sleeping?”

  Oh boy. No sense BS-ing the kid. I take her hand and, in a low, comforting voice, say, “A man did try to hurt you, yes. I didn’t let him.”

  She shivers. “You stopped him?”

  Her hand is so small and warm. I squeeze it reassuringly. She brightens at my touch and looks me in the eye again.

  “He won’t ever try to hurt anyone again,” I say.

  “You put him in jail?”

  When I shake my head, she goes wide-eyed.

  “Dead?” she whispers.

  “The thing he was going to try and hurt you with hurt him. He fell.” There; that’s not technically a lie. He did fall―after his heart stopped.

  She thinks for a few seconds before nodding. “He was big. Did you beat him up ‘cause you’re a”―Hannah’s voice drops to a whisper―“mermaid?”

  I blink, stunned, and stare at her for the span of a breath in silence. “You were awake the whole time?”

  “Yes.” She holds up her right arm. “Someone squeezed my hand and whispered I should wake up. I saw the man, but I was too scared, so I played sleep. The person who told me to wake up said ‘scream.’” Hannah looks down. “I didn’t. I’s too scared.” Her shame/fear evaporates, and she grins up at me. “But he bumped the cart, an’ you came outta the bathroom, and beat him up.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry you saw that.” I stroke her hair while gazing at the overbed tray table still holding evidence of the girl’s breakfast. Maybe it’s Licinia giving me a subconscious prod to do that; she has experience with kids.

  “It wasn’t as scary as when the bad man hit Mommy. I pretended to be sleep ‘cause you did mermaid stuff so no one asks me what happened an’ I have’ta lie.” She shakes her head. “I’m not a good liar. Mommy always knows when I don’t pick up my room.”

  I nod, aghast that an eight-year-old has the presence of mind to think that and… something told her to wake up. What are the odds that thug bumped a meal cart by chance? Doubtful. Guardian angel?

  Sounds about like what they’d do, though talking directly to her was an act of desperation. Bending the rules, so to speak. They usually influence circumstance.

  Like nudging a cart into his path so I’d hear him bump it?

  Yes, things like that.

  Over the next hour and change, Hannah migrates from her bed to my lap. She doesn’t appear in any way in need of being hospitalized. Even the IV is out. In the midst of telling me about her drawing, dolls, friend Renee at school, and every other tiny little detail about her life, she fades off to sleep. I gain sudden understanding of why cat people don’t want to move when their kitty is curled up in their lap. I barely even breathe in case it might disturb her. Why am I feeling this? My biological clock hasn’t stopped ticking―it’s been smashed with a hammer.

  It’s not required to create a child for you to take care of one.

  I know, it’s… the whole lifespan thing.

  My analogy is going to sound more heartless than intended, but people who find comfort in the presence of cats and dogs know they won’t last forever, but they keep getting more.

  Yeah. I know she’s not implying I get a ‘pet,’ or calling children pets as much as she means I’m going to be around long enough for somewhere between five and ten infants to grow up, get old, and die one after the next. I’ve seen the effect losing a dog has on someone. I can’t imagine how I’d feel at the death of a child/person/adult I’ve known for their entire life. Not to mention the freak show of me always remaining twenty-five.

  They won’t spend their whole life under your wing. You could always start small.

  Like get a goldfish?

  Licinia laughs. No, I mean stay in contact with this one. I can already feel her hold on you.

  Don’t you mean her hold on you?

  Is that not the same thing?

  She’s got me there. Maybe. I don’t know. Hannah has grandparents to take care of her. The last thing I need is having a child to worry about. Especially in my world. Every other week something would be trying to go after them or use them to get to me or…

  You’re making excuses. And I’m not suggesting you eat the Stricklands and take her as a daughter.

  That’s not funny.

  Hah. I mean look after her in some way. You two have shipwrecks in common, plus she has already seen our true self.

  I grin, thinking of Trisha Buda, my friend who likes for me to call her Mom. Hannah’s not old enough to be my friend.

  You mean she won’t go senile before she realizes you’re not aging. A tingle spreads down the back of my head, almost a motherly hand. Perhaps you should consider expanding your circle of trust beyond yourself. Let one in?

  I already have. Serrano. And… his finding out was unintentional.

  Same with this child.

  Yeah.

  Hannah shifts in her sleep. A whine slips out of her nose. She, or Lorraine, had painted her toenails hot pink. I give her a comforting squeeze and rock her a bit. Huh? Where did that come from?

  I could sing to her, but I don’t think she understands Latin.

  Hah! You’ve been around for almost two-thousand years and you sing in Latin still?

  How often do you slip phrases from the twenties? I never bothered to learn any other lullabies over the years as I had no need of them. A twinge of her bitterness affects me. She misses being a mother. I have no complaints about my mom, but any kid whose mother studied ancient, forbidden magic to protect them should consider themselves loved. Most parents would die to save their kids; how many are willing to destroy their soul?

  Not destroy. I’m outside the circle now. A small price to pay.

  “Mommy!” Hannah sits up, wide-eyed, and wraps her arms around me. It takes her a second or two to realize who I am and why she’s in a hospital―Mommy’s gone―and she lapses into sobs again.

  Crap.

  I’m done. Game over. This kid is going to be part of my life; I can feel it. Like what happens every time someone goes into a pet store ‘just looking.’ Only I’m not walk
ing out with a kitten. She’s a child. I can’t simply take her. Licinia’s got a point. I’ll start small. I did promise her a mermaid swim. Hmm. That’ll be tricky to pull off without her grandparents seeing me. I could take it out of their memory, but it’s not a worry at all unless they don’t want to let her spend an afternoon with me. Assuming they’re okay with it, I’ll need to get her a wetsuit too. The Sound is far too cold for a bathing suit, even in the summer.

  “I had a scary dream,” mumbles Hannah. She squeezes me tighter. “The bad man was chasing me and he had a knife.”

  “Dreams can’t hurt you, sweetie.” I rub a hand up and down her back. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

  “Can I be a mermaid too?” She sniffles and sits up, looking me in the eye while wiping her cheeks.

  That hits me like a slap. All at once I’m horrified at the thought of doing that to her, but pleased it happened to me. I’ve come to like this existence. Accepting my fate is quite different from tearing an innocent child’s soul out of whatever cycle of reincarnation exists. But how can I explain something like that to a kid her age? She has no idea what she’s even asking for. She’s thinking Little Mermaid, when the reality is quite a bit more monstrous. I proverbially won the lottery with Licinia. Who knows what kind of evil could take up residence in Hannah’s soul. Some Dark Masters are… no. I can’t. At least not this little. Probably not ever. Her grandparents, Hannah herself, and heck, even her guardian angel seem to trust me to protect her, and I’m not going to betray that.

  “Not without a special mermaid suit.” I wink and boop her on the nose. “You’re a human. And a cute one.”

  She smiles. “Are you still gonna take me swimming?”

  “I will, if your grandparents are okay with it. It’ll probably be a while before we can.”

  “I know.” She looks down. “We gotta have a funeral and stuff for my parents. I gotta go live with Gran and Pop now.” A sad smile forms on her face. “I like visiting them. Sometimes, I’d get to sleep over a whole weekend. Pop says it’s like I’ll be visiting for a long time.”