Deep Blue (The Mermaid Chronicles Book 1)

by J Turbett

  "They don't even have internet in the hotel!" David whined.

  "We'll have internet when we get to our home."

  "We won't be there for another week!"

  “Just relax and enjoy the scenery, honey. You could even explore the town, do something outside for a change!” Sarah tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice but failed.

  “I’ll do something outside when she does,” David pouted, nodding toward Alice with his arms folded across his chest. He stared across the table at his sister, but she was just staring into space. It was a long moment before she even realized she was being stared at, and then she turned her face away again.

  “One Beef and Reef and two fish and chips.” The waitress’ interruption halted David’s musings, and stopped his mother from going into convulsions of frustration.

  “Why, thank you,” Sarah looked up at the waitress, forcing her most winning smile. One child dead to the world, the other one angry at being left behind. It was more than a mother was ever meant to handle.

  David huffed, forcing himself to stare at his own food. He couldn’t take it, watching his sister poke at yet another meal without really eating it. She could have almost passed for a skeleton already. The transformation had happened right before his eyes, and the shell sitting across the table wasn’t his sister at all. It was the muscle mass she had lost first, then her hair had grown to cover her face, and she became further and further from anyone’s reach, even his.

  Alice stared out the window at the calmingly provincial scene. She saw people milling about, the blond guy leaving the diner, followed by his harem, forcing people to make way on either side. It didn’t matter; when she closed her eyes, all she saw was the darkness, all she heard was the gasping, all she smelled was blood. The world around her was nothing but a gnat flying around her face. There was another smell, fighting for dominance over the scent of blood she never forgot: the ocean, the deep blue environment she could almost surrender to, but she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to wake up, she didn’t want to be a part of this world, a world where all bright things turned dark eventually. At the same time, she could see herself on the diving board, feel the water as she sped through it at competition, she could hear the cheers of the audience, none louder than her brother. She had to shut it off, she had no choice, the next time she found comfort someone would challenge it again, she was powerless as a slug against the salt, and worthless. Shut out the sounds, shut out the smells, shut out the light, breathe. It was the only way she could retain a shred of sanity. The only way she could hold her broken pieces together.

  Ronald watched his wife bring the steaming cup of tea to her lips. Sarah was wrapped in a blanket in a wicker chair on the porch. Inside, Alice was asleep facing a wall; if he didn’t know she was asleep, he could have believed her dead. David slept on the couch, arms crossed across his chest as if he were still angry, even in sleep. Ronald shivered at the breeze coming off the ocean. The way Sarah looked over the water reminded him eerily of the way Alice stared at everything; empty. He walked over to her and laid his hand on her shoulder, wanting to interrupt that look in the worst way. He didn’t need to lose his wife too.

  She looked up at him with her endearing smile on her face, but there was loss there too, and worry. He took the seat across from her. “What is it?” he whispered, keeping his voice low.

  “What is it always, honey?”

  “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t send her to the hospital.” He said casting an askew glance to the door and the sleeping kids inside.

  Sarah looked at him pleadingly. “You should have seen her at the diner today. She’s no better. It’s like she only gets worse. If only she would just talk to me, help me understand.”

  “We’ve been down this road,” he took her free hand, and squeezed it, trying to encourage his shaken wife.

  “I thought the smell of the ocean would bring her back to us, but all it truly did was drive her further from us. David is right: why should he participate in this world when his sister is the walking dead?”

  “It’s too soon to say that this move isn’t helping. We have to have faith in her.”

  “We’ve put so much faith in her already! We’ve moved her several places, we’ve uprooted her life and now we’ve crossed the ocean, all in the hopes of getting her to smile again.” She looked up at her husband, her big chestnut brown eyes glimmering with tears. Ronald took a deep breath and looked out over the sea. Sarah was right: they were near their wit’s end with their daughter. Since she had returned from California she hadn’t participated in anything, she refused to be present for any event, and this was the last straw. They couldn’t undo the move, there had been so much tragedy for Alice there, and the loss of Ron’s mother affected him more than he would dare show the kids, so a new start was needed for them all, but if this didn’t work, he didn’t know what should come next.

  “We have to give her a couple of months; let the sunshine and the new environment do their work,” he sighed, “If things don’t improve we’ll send her to a hospital.”

  Sarah contemplated her husband. He was so worn down by this, more than she had let herself realize. She could swear there were a few more wrinkles in his familiar face. He spoke the truth though: they had been in Australia all of two days.

  Inside on the couch, David didn’t move and made sure his breathing was regular, but he heard every word. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard them discussing sending her to the hospital before. It wouldn’t change anything, anyway. If she went to the hospital it would just mean that no one would have to look at the shell of the person she used to be. At the same time, he felt a wet tear roll down his cheek. It used to be them against the world, him and Alice. When the big kids picked on him and his freckles in school, it was she who was there for him.

  He’d tried to be there for her this time, but she wasn’t there. His parents’ faith was unfounded, and as he fell back into his troubled sleep he wondered how long it would take Alice to find the local bar.

  Chapter 3

  Brassila Cove

  It took Alice a week to find the local bar and grill, much longer than David had anticipated. He was sitting across from her in the middle of the new living room, watching her mechanically opening boxes and looking inside until she found the one from her bedroom. She opened the box, then stared at it for several minutes before getting up and leaving the house. His parents thought she’d go to the sea or something, but David knew: his parents didn’t keep alcohol in the house anymore, so Alice had to find the bar.

  As the door slammed shut behind her, David got up and went to the box Alice had opened. He picked up the item on top, amidst a pile of ribbons and trophy’s, the picture frame. Tabitha was there, and so was Tabby’s brother, and David, everyone smiling. Alice had just won the gold at a swim meet and was posing in front with her medal, meat on her bones and that ingratiating smile on her face. David threw the frame back in the box with a clatter.

  “David, are you all right?” Sarah shouted over the racket of dishes being unpacked and put away.

  “I’m fine, mom.” David picked up Alice’s box of knickknacks and shoved it away at the bottom of the tiny linen closet.

  “Isn’t that from Alice’s room?” his mother asked, coming up behind him.

  He rounded on her angrily. “Who’s Alice?!” he stomped up the stairs before she could stop him and slammed his door shut. He didn’t need to listen to her shouts of outrage.

  Every small town has its bar. To Alice’s credit, her family had been very busy that day. The truck with their stuff had arrived before the house was ready, and so they had stored everything at the resort. Then, when the house was ready, they had to move the boxes from the resort to their small little house, one Jeep-full at a time. It had been late afternoon before the family had been able to do any unpacking, and Ron was already at work.

  The bar she had found wasn't far up from the ocean. The front was unremarkable; it was a mock-up of a plank lead
ing to a boat. Inside it was worn wood the color of coconut, with a tropical theme similar to the resort. It almost made Alice sick to look at it. There was a loft with extra seating that led to a balcony. It could almost have been a repurposed warehouse but Alice didn’t really see a purpose for there being a warehouse in such a small town. The back of the building was lined with windows that looked over the ocean and made the bar seem far more open than it should. Bars were supposed to be closed in, intimate and dark. The only time this bar was dark was when the sun set.

  There was a door in the back that led to a yard where tables sat unevenly on the ground creating even more seating that the bar didn’t really need, however most of the tables and chairs were pushed to the side to accommodate the band. The band was playing soft reggae music that night. It fit with the cheesy décor very well. The backyard ended in a sheer cliff with only a half-wall made of bricks to keep you from falling over; it could double as seating or a place to put your drinks, but there had to be some safety violations. Then again who would care about the safety violations at a small bar in the middle of Nowhere, Australia? It seemed that the idea here was that if you were dumb enough to fall over the wall, then you deserved it. What Alice liked was that the smells of the grill and the booze nearly overpowered the intoxicating smell of the ocean.

  Alice loved the smell of the ocean. She wouldn't go down to it but it was as much of a drug as the alcohol she was pouring into herself that night. She was already going crazy with nothing to do in this town. That smell, the smell of the ocean, dredged up memories she had avoided for so long. The bartender could see that the new girl was probably going to be a regular: she looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

  He nodded at the doctor when Adam entered through the giant plastic coconut doorway. Adam noticed Alice immediately, and smiled a little. She looked so far gone, but he couldn't resist. He walked up to the bar. Adam had always kind of had a thing for lost causes, even in medical school. The truth was someone had to. If you always wrote off a lost cause, none of them would get saved. Sometimes you even got lucky when you poured your best effort into one. So this night he approached her as he would any patient who didn’t have a chance in the world, with a friendly smile, all his attention focused on her waning vital signs.

  "Aren't you a little young to be drinking?" She looked up.

  "Aren't you a little young to be a doctor?"

  "So you do speak!" the doctor retorted, ordering a drink. Great, a comedian, Alice thought, but his joke hit close to home: the only time she ever did speak was when drinking. She hoped that he would lose interest and be on his way soon. At the same time, she had a good buzz going, and he was looking at her expectantly as he leaned against the bar.

  "I'm twenty-three," she said, resigning herself to conversation.

  "Well, I'm twenty-eight," Adam replied, noticing the dilated pupils of her eyes, and the faint glow on her cheeks.

  "Wonderful." Alice got up to go. It wasn't that the doctor wasn't attractive. It was just Alice didn't trust men, especially when they had a drink or two in them. She would never make that mistake again.

  "How do you like the town so far?" Adam asked, turning to face her, not put off at all. Alice turned to him and sighed, he wasn’t going to go away, and he was ruining her buzz.

  "It's okay." She answered, settling back onto the stool and putting her escape plans on hold for the moment.

  "Your father told me you used to be quite the swimmer."

  "Used to." She didn't move to continue the conversation. That would deter most people but it seemed that Adam was more difficult to get rid of.

  "Come on, let’s find a table. I'll buy you a drink." Alice hesitated. She didn't have to talk to him, but if he was offering to buy her a drink. Her funds were getting low pretty quick. She turned and walked to the back of the room, settling into an empty booth. It was as much of an invitation as she was likely to give, so Adam followed.

  "Have you met any interesting people?" he asked as they sat down.

  “Where’s the drink you offered me?”

  Adam cringed a little but got them a pitcher anyway.

  “Well?” he asked when the waiter had come and gone.

  "You may not have realized this, but I like to keep to myself," she answered rudely.

  He smiled at her. It was a winning smile, would turn the inside of most women to mush, but Alice was made of stone. She stared back at him emptily in response to it. She certainly wasn’t making this easy for him.

  “You’re in a new country now, in a tiny town; there’s got to be something you’ve noticed here.” She was silent almost to the point of him breaking, it sent shivers down his spine. He was nearly ready to give up when she finally spoke.

  “The beach: so private you’ll get shot for trespassing?” From her Dad’s office, she could see signs guarding the beach adjacent to the mansion. In a small town it seemed strange to her that someone would use deadly force to protect their property. Adam stared back at her, considering her over his beer. On the one hand, he had the girl talking; on the other hand, the Caraway family wasn’t really a topic he liked bringing up. She was new to the town, though, and he did have her talking.

  One of the guitarists from the band outside had started coming around to the tables, playing a sweet reggae ballad to each table. When he approached Alice she turned to him aggressively. “Fuck off, man.” Startled, the guitarist continued to the next table. Alice began to stir, and Adam knew he was about to lose her.

  “They’re very serious about their privacy, the Caraways are.”

  Alice turned back to the man. He was looking at her so expectantly there was a part of her that wanted to leap out of the seat and run. She downed the rest of her beer, then took the pitcher to refill it. Adam reached for it at the same time. “Allow me.” As his hand brushed hers, she yanked it back as if she had been burned. She stared at him angrily.

  “Fuck this. I’m leaving.” She moved to stand and leave, wobbling a little on her legs. “I mean, some rich yuppie family has as much business being here as I do, and probably about as much sense to be willing to ask for their own privacy.”

  Adam stood. There were a couple of eyes on them, townsfolk who were familiar to Adam but still strangers to Alice. “Please,” Adam started, “I’m sorry if I offended you in some way. Please don’t go.” He trailed off, she turned to look at him, and for an instant his brown eyes met her green eyes ones. Inside them he saw not anger but fear, and he knew, he knew at least part of what Alice hid from. Sometimes it was hard working with humans, and she was so tragically hurt in a way he certainly wasn’t trained in fixing. She wasn’t moving, she was staring at him staying as far from him as possible, his touch made her almost ill. Quickly he filled her mug of beer and sat back down. “You’re right, they don’t really have a right to ask for privacy, but they have the money and they have the firepower, too. This is their town.”

  The way he said the town was theirs made her wonder. Carefully she sidled back into her seat. She was sitting as far away from him as she could. He knew he had slipped up a little, the shadowed girl was much more perceptive than he realized and he knew he would have to pick his words carefully in her presence. “You must have seen one of the Caraways. I’ve heard the eldest is back in town for the moment,” he said, carefully drawing his arm away from the mug, slowly so as not to spook her. She watched him carefully before reaching out to pull the mug back to herself.

  “I don’t really care to know anyone here,” she said pointedly, under her breath as she began pouring the poison down her throat again. Adam was beginning to understand the plight of the Bailey parents.

  “Well no one really cares to know Finn Caraway. Especially after they do take the time to get to know him.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him, as if she was going to pull a gun on him if he kept talking. He stopped just for the moment, watching her drink her beer. She was truly trying to drown herself in the depths of the
pitcher. He looked at her, the pallor of her skin, the oil in her hair, the air of discontent. She didn’t want to be a part of reality, and he was making it worse on her. Perhaps he was drinking too much himself. He sighed softly; she didn’t even notice.

  "There's an old legend about the town," he said, hoping to engage her with a fairy tale. She peered through her unkempt hair suspiciously. Adam smiled, a weak smile, but a hopeful one all the same.

  "You're good at manipulating people, aren't you?" she said as he ordered her another drink from the wandering barmaid.

  "You just look like you want your mind off things, anything I can do to help..." he let it hang. She didn't answer so he continued. "So, once upon a time," she raised her eyebrows, "That's how stories are supposed to start right?" he grinned.

  "Whatever."

  "Anyway, there was this man named Matthew Caraway. He was a millionaire of some sort. Old money, I think, some kind of British blue blood. He loved the country and would go out in the bush in search of adventure, as most yuppies were wont to do.” He took a breath, watching her, “He was the type who was never happy in one place, and everyone knew he would probably die young, taking his money with him, because there wasn’t a single woman who could catch his eye.” She wasn’t looking at him, so he couldn’t tell if she was listening or not, but she wasn’t leaving and that’s what mattered.

  “Until, one night, that all changed. On a beach somewhere he met a woman. Her hair was long, as if it had never been cut, and her body was like no woman’s he had ever seen. She danced with him for one night while he made camp on that beach. Her name was Brassila.” Alice’s eyebrows raised, it was the only indication he had that she was hearing him.