by Les Goodrich
“So what happened?”
“One day on the way home from school those two came up to me on the bus. They handed me a piece of paper. On the paper it said, Write the worst curse word you could ever say to a person on this line. Then there was a blank line on another little piece of paper.
“I thought it was interesting they were interacting with me. Or anyone really. I had kind of felt sorry for them because people treated them so badly and they were always off alone. So I wrote the “F” word on the paper and You. You know, F-you. But the whole thing.”
“Yes Brit I’m familiar with the expression.”
“Yeah. Well I’d heard it in a movie and knew it was bad because my parents made a big deal about me hearing it. I’d also heard kids at school say it. Those little bitches went back to their seat and I could see them monkeying around. Apparently they took the paper and at the top they wrote, To Dracaena and Ella, then under the curse words I’d written, they wrote From Brittany. Then they just marched right up and gave it to the bus driver. The bus driver actually got off the bus at my stop and gave that note to my mom. I got in huge trouble and could never talk my way out of it.”
Carol stifled a laugh.
“It’s not funny,” Brit insisted but even she cracked a slight smile.
“It’s awful. Why would they do that?”
“Because they’re shitty little devils that’s why. You think I was surprised to find them working at The Poison Apple? No. They probably got recruited fresh out of grade school at some creep convention.”
Brit and Carol worked the rest of the day and closed up. They both strolled to the west end of Artillery Lane, across Aviles, along the further section of Artillery, then walked north on Saint George together. They split up when Carol took Treasury Street to head home and Brit kept walking north. She had decided to go to Coastal Coffee for a snack before going home and she walked along happily. She heard live music from one of the bars and people laughing inside. She saw families and the smallest kids were dragging along exhausted or sleeping in strollers from what had surely been a long day of walking for them. At Hypolita Street she cut west to Cordova and came to Coastal through the little courtyard pass at the back.
“Hello stranger,” Mims said from behind the bar.
“Hi Mims,” Brit said and she sat at the tiny bar. No one else was in the shop. “Are you closing now?”
“I’m playing it by ear. We’ve been steady because its cold still. I’m just doing the big things. What can I get you?”
“A large passion fruit tea and a cream cheese danish.”
“Coming right up,” Mims said and she began to make the cold drink.
“There’s no caffeine in that, right?” Brit asked.
“No caffeine,” Mims smiled over her shoulder. She handed Brit the red drink in its clear plastic cup. Brit held the cup to see light through the gem-like drink.
“Pretty,” Brit said.
“Pretty poison,” Prisma said stepping from behind the biscotti basket.
“Hi Prisma, how are you?” Brit asked.
“Oh I’m swell. I was a little wound up earlier. All good now.”
“A little wound up?” Mims shook her head and she put Brit’s danish in a pastry bag. “You don’t mind this in a bag do you? I already started the dishwasher.”
“Not at all,” Brit said and she opened a plastic knife from its cellophane wrapper and cut the round danish like a little pizza. She ate one triangle and drank her drink. “Delicious.”
“I read the solitary wicca book I got from you guys a few weeks ago.”
“Oh yeah. What’d you think?”
“It was good. It talks about what the elements are and how they relate to your mind and yourself. About the seasons and the wheel of the year. Some about phases of the moon and how they can relate to magick. Not much about doing magick though. Some stories about old-time witches.” Mims tamped a shot and pulled a solo espresso into a black ceramic demitasse cup. She added a dash of milk and a sprinkle of sugar and cinnamon.
“Yeah I’m just starting to learn magick myself,” Brit said.
“No way. You?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought you were an expert witch.”
“I’ve studied a lot. But I’m just now starting to learn magick. Jordan is helping me.”
“Jordan is a good witch, huh? I mean she’s good at magick.”
“She’s amazing.”
“I knew it,” said Mims. She placed the little espresso drink on the counter near Prisma who jumped up and down in glee. “Don’t get wasted on that. It has to last you all night.”
“Thank you, thank you Mims.” Prisma leaned down and smelled the espresso by wafting the steam up with her hand like a gourmet chef. “Mmmmm.”
“Hey, we could study together if you want. I mean if you’re really into it.” Brit said and she ate another little pizza slice of cream cheese danish.
“That would be so cool,” Mims said and she was truly excited.
They decided to meet once a week. The first time they would meet at Brit’s place then decide each time where to meet next. They also agreed to do it for the year and a day to be on the same page.
"I’ll let you get out of here,” Brit said and she gathered her backpack and stood. “I’ll see you at my place next week. And probably before that. Come by the store.”
“I will,” Mims said. “Bye now.”
“Bye cute witch Brit,” Prisma added.
“Bye,” Brit said and she headed out the door into the cool night.
***
Tanner, Dan, and Jordan moved through Biscayne Bay at a slow pace while they planned their next stops and moves.
“It seems like we could cross the Gulf Stream at a narrower spot from up here,” Dan suggested. “Why don’t we just head across now and pick our way south through the Bahamas to Crooked Island?”
“Because we need information,” Jordan said. “We need to meet my friend’s cousins. They can introduce us to guys that know who found the cave and the witch’s stash. They know the islands and the pirates involved. Meeting them first is the smart thing to do.”
Tanner agreed and Dan understood and they picked up speed and ran. They made their way as far south as Marathon by keeping to Biscayne Bay, then hugging the coast along Key Largo and Islamorada. Dan figured out the GPS plotter along the way and he was able to avoid reefs and shallow areas but still stay along the banks where it was less rough than offshore. They still had a few sections of rough water but the boat ran well and everyone just found their spot in the boat and rode on.
They made their way between shallow flats and followed another boat that was running fast and obviously no stranger to those waters until both boats came to a marked channel that led inshore. They picked their way up to a section of bridges on the Overseas Highway and followed one bridge south and found a small marina.
Dan docked the boat and Jordan and Tanner manned the lines and they tied the boat at the fuel dock. Dan had the dockmate fuel up the boat and asked if there was a bathroom.
“There’s bathrooms in the tiki bar,” the mate said and he pointed to a thatched roof at the end corner of the marina about twenty boat slips away.
“Now you’re talking,” Jordan said and she tied her purple and blue flowered sarong around her hips, shouldered her bag, stepped into her purple Crocs where she had tossed them onto the dock from the boat, and headed that way otherwise wearing only her black bikini top.
The guy fueling up the boat starred after her for a good many steps. He looked back to his business at the pump handle.
“She’s a witch,” Dan said.
“I bet,” the dockmate said and Dan and Tanner laughed and walked to the tiki bar.
The guys had both used the bathroom and washed their faces and were back at a table overlooking the water when Jordan returned from the girl’s bathroom and turned heads on her way to join them. She pulled back the plastic chair and sat down.
; “They have fresh water in there!” she said and she looked refreshed and her hair was wet and wrung out like she had taken a shower in the sink. A twenty-something waitress stepped up in a red and yellow Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. Standard Keys server attire.
“What can I get you guys?” she said.
“I’ll have a beer,” Dan said. “You have Stella?”
“Yep.”
“Perfect,” Dan said.
“The same,” Tanner said.
“Screw that,” Jordan said and she smiled at the girl. “I’d like the biggest pina colada you guys are allowed to make.”
“Would you like a floater of one-fifty-one?”
“You bet,” Jordan said.
“And whipped cream?”
“The works.”
“You got it,” the server said and she left them with menus and stepped away.
When she brought the drinks Jordan's pina colada was in a tall hurricane glass with icy white blended cream inside, a thin layer of honey-colored one hundred fifty-one proof rum at the surface, a spiraling cloud of whipped cream at the top, and two straws. The whipped cream was marbled with a varnished drizzle of Kahlua and the rim held a big wedge of fresh pineapple. A four inch bamboo skewer pinned two cherries, a lime wedge, and a slice of orange onto the pineapple.
“Dang,” Tanner said.
“Rock on,” said Jordan and she began to sip and stir and otherwise mess with the big gaudy touristy drink. “Outstanding,” she said as she tasted the drink first and then the whipped cream.
They ordered fish tacos and conch fritters and the guys had burgers and everything was delicious and fresh.
“I think I’ll just stay here,” Jordan said. “You guys go fight pirates and bad witches. Pick me up on your way back.”
In the marina store they bought ice for their cooler and a case of beer. Jordan bought more bottles of water and bags of trail mix. They also bought six Italian subs and two bags of potato chips. Sunscreen. Bug repellant. Dan also filled the six gas cans he had brought and stowed them back in the fish lockers near the bow. Tanner had found a shotgun and a 223 rifle strapped to the inside wall of the console compartment that also housed a head, sink, microwave, and a small bunk.
“Hey Jordan,” Dan said as they idled away from the marina into the channel. “Look in that hatch on the back port side.”
“What is it?” Jordan asked and she moved around to open the small hatch cover. Inside was a white hose and a red plastic switch.
“That’s fresh water,” Dan said.
“You’re kidding me,” Jordan said and she flipped the switch and water sputtered out then flowed. She turned the switch off and closed the hatch with the hose inside. “Why didn’t you bastards tell me that two days ago?”
“I thought you knew,” Dan said. “The blue hose on the other side is salt water.”
“How the hell would I know that?” Jordan said and she made her way to sit on the port bow seat while they were still going slow through the inshore bay channel.
They idled through the clear green water and Jordan looked at the green mangrove islands and the turquoise sky above them. White clouds hung like the fragile mists they were and burned under the high tropical Sun. The boat glided as if on melted glass and the protected waters of the bay mixed with the wild tide of the Atlantic and all of it turned blue and electric. Jordan shook her head at the impossible beauty of it all and she thought about James and she wished he could be there with her to see it.
Tanner sat on the console seat and looked far ahead to the open sea. Dan sat up on the leaning post and he gazed through the windshield and he watched other boats pass and he turned on the depth recorder and watched the depth change from eight feet to twelve feet then to twenty and as the water turned darker blue the depth fell away to thirty feet and the surface became choppy and small waves slapped the hull and Dan turned off the bottom machine.
He continued to idle slowly because it was comfortable and felt calm and the three did not speak for a long time. They remained silent and kept to themselves simply because when people are together in a small space for a long time, particularly when that small space is a boat, there is a need to extend your perception beyond the confinement that becomes your little floating world. To do that takes silence and contemplation. Their minds soared to the edges of the sky and everything around them was blue. Blue bay behind them. Blue ocean ahead. Blue sky above. Blue air within their lungs. And all the world before them blue where blue gulls wheeled in the blue distance and reflected in their blue eyes was the blue planet below them and in their feathered chests did their hearts beat and pump their hot blue blood. Exactly like the blue blood of people. The blue blood of every living thing.
They turned south where the last channel marker stood defiantly against the swirling current eddies and Dan sped up to shed the spray and Jordan moved to the console seat and Tanner moved to lean with Dan by the wheel. They made thirty miles per hour easily and they looked to the passing shore of islands off to their right some mile or so. Dan looked to darkening clouds off their rear starboard quarter and he was glad to have those clouds behind them and Tanner looked back also and said as much out loud.
A great fish jumped at the bow and Tanner leaned to see it just splash down and it was yellow and green and had neon blue splotches and it looked like the gamefish that Polynesians call mahi-mahi and that Cubans call dorado and that Americans call dolphin though Tanner knew it wasn’t a dorado at all because it was impossibly large.
“Did you see that?” Jordan yelled over the engines and she stood and grabbed the rail on the console side.
“Yeah,” Tanner said and he held the side rail and Dan looked as well. The fish broke the surface again and skimmed across the small wave crests just off the starboard bow but it was no fish at all. It was a powerful mermaid with a long strong tail the vivid colors of a dorado and she had bright green and yellow streaked hair and her arms and shoulders and chest were bare and fit and tan. She looked to the boat and submerged and appeared on the opposite side and she seemed to move at the boat’s planing speed with no effort at all. She submerged again and leapt from the water fifteen yards out from the boat and she jumped at least ten feet into the air never slowing and she landed in a static of whitewater and was gone.
“Slow down!” shouted Jordan. “Stop.” Dan backed off the throttles and the boat settled into an idle and Jordan moved to that side of the boat and searched the waters. “Just stop,” she said and Dan put the boat in neutral. The boat coasted along and Jordan looked into the deep water where rays of sunlight broke like crystals and their white shafts dove below them. At once she saw the green light of a distorted figure as it rose and took shape and the most splendid mermaid appeared from the depths and floated with her shoulders just above the surface and her green and yellow hair slicked back and her tan skin shinning with seawater.
“Witches,” the mermaid said.
“Yes,” Jordan and Tanner said and Dan was just quiet, too astounded to speak.
“Good witches,” the mermaid said and she swam closer to the boat. “Good witches,” she repeated.
“Yes, Light Tribe,” Jordan said.
“Not him,” the mermaid said. Jordan turned thinking Dan but realized the mermaid had meant Tanner.
“He’s not evil. But he does not have a Light Tribe aura,” the mermaid said.
“He doesn’t?” asked Jordan and she turned to regard Tanner again.
“Leave my aura out of this,” Tanner said and he moved to the side where the mermaid held at the surface. Her long green and yellow hair floated and lifted on the waters behind her like seaweed and under and among it tiny minnows darted and sought shade and safety.
“I’m Jordan.”
The gorgeous dorado mermaid swam up to the boat edge, looked up into Jordan's eyes, then backed away some to speak comfortably without craning her neck. In that glance Jordan felt that this mermaid was far less accustomed to interaction with people, witche
s or not, than her friend Shay. This mermaid seemed more wild. A strong free-swimming pelagic deep water mermaid. A powerful creature at home in the open ocean.
“My name is Coral. I saw the two of you in the channel and followed you to the marina. I watched you from the mangrove shore across the basin from the docks.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Did you have pineapple in that big fancy drink?”
“Um, yeah,” Jordan said.
“I knew it. That’s delicious.”
“We are here from Saint Augustine far to the north. I’m friends with Shay, a mermaid there. Shay has cousins who live in the Keys. They are brother and sister. Their names are Mako and Pearl.”
“I do not know Shay. But I do know Mako and Pearl. My little sister is friends with them both. Mako and Pearl live on the Gulf side, at Marvin and Snipe Keys. That area.
“Can we get there in a boat? This boat?”
“You can if you know the way. There is a channel from the Atlantic. East and north of Cudjoe Key. You have maps?”
“Yes,” Jordan said.
“It is Marvin Key. Snipe Keys. Remember those.”
“Can you find Mako and Pearl for us?” Jordan asked. “We don’t have much time.”
“I guess I could, but why should I?”
“Is there anything we might have on the boat that you would like?” Jordan asked.
“Do you have fresh water?”
Jordan stepped to the back corner, opened the small hatch, turned on the fresh water pump, and handed Coral the white hose over the side. Coral ran the fresh water on her face. Through her hair. She drank from the hose and ran more over her face and head.
“Oh that’s so nice,” Coral said in pure pleasure.
“Here,” Jordan said and she handed Coral a bottle of cold water from the cooler.
“What’s this?” Coral asked.
“Fresh water to go. You open and close it like this,” Jordan said and she showed Coral how the cap worked and she drank from her own bottle.”
“I know how to do it,” Coral said but she obviously did not and she carefully twisted the lid opened with serious concentration then held the little plastic cap like a treasure. She sipped the cold water.