Surfacing

by Masters, Cate

  Chaz jerked his head in a nod. “I could eat, yeah. A cheeseburger.”

  “A cheeseburger. Delightful.” Grandpa appeared animated by Chaz’s predictability. “AJ and I are going to go ahead. We’d wait, but then our dinner would be ruined.” His scowl said it already had been.

  Chaz twitched higher in the booth. “So, Mr. Anderson, you don’t believe in mermaids?” His cockiness aside, Chaz apparently thought politeness might soften the old man.

  Grandpa sliced the crab cake with his fork. “I believe they do a good business over at Weeki Wachee Springs.” He chewed with determined slowness.

  “Sure, but the real live mermaids. The ones sailors talk about.” A certain reverence had come over Chaz, as if mermaids were the key to his salvation.

  Grandpa harrumphed. “Sailors are notorious for tall tales. Boredom overwhelmed them on their long trips, and they amused one another by talking too much.” His emphasis on the last three words did nothing to sway Chaz off course.

  “It wasn’t only sailors tellin’ about mermaids. What about people in Scotland?”

  Grandpa chuckled. “Yes, the mermaids swim with the Loch Ness Monster. And cavort with the wee folk.”

  Chaz’s tone became more insistent. “There’s stories from as late as 1950, and way back in history. From all over the world. People like Christopher Columbus. Marco Polo.” His finger jabbed the tabletop as if these ancient world travelers had provided irrefutable proof of the existence of mer people.

  “Legends, like rumors, persist because people retell them.” Grandpa continued eating.

  Chaz’s cool became tattered with bursts of frustration. “You tellin’ me you never saw one?”

  Grandpa’s gaze slid to AJ, who shrugged to deflect the intensity.

  AJ held up his knife and fork in question. “What?”

  His grandfather slapped the tabletop. “Don’t ask what. You know very well.”

  AJ’s neck prickled with heat as several heads turned in their direction.

  Chaz sat straighter, his voice low. “We need to know, man.”

  AJ slid toward the window, trying to distance himself from Chaz, embarrassed at his use of ‘we’. As if they’d plotted to trap Grandpa.

  “You saw one, didn’t you.” Chaz’s statement left no doubt he knew the truth. Or thought he knew.

  Grandpa dabbed the napkin at his mouth. “You seem to know better than me.”

  Chaz’s snake oil smile revealed his disingenuous nature. “Aw come on, man. We got a burnin’ curiosity. Tell us.”

  AJ wished he’d stop using the royal ‘we’. It pissed off the old man more, by the looks of his scowl and swelling chest. AJ would bear the brunt of it later.

  Grandpa adjusted himself in his seat and folded his hands on the table. “All right. Since you have such a ‘burnin’ curiosity.’ I’ll tell you. Yes, I saw a mermaid.”

  Chaz looked like a four-year-old at Christmas, face as bright as a treetop star. “Whoa.”

  AJ jumped to attention. “When? Did you talk to her? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  Grandpa’s glare reminded AJ he had, but never in any detail. “Oh, I said plenty, but people here pegged me as a drunken fool.”

  “When did you see her?” AJ shot back.

  With a slow, sure nod meant to imply he knew exactly what Grandpa went through, Chaz said, “You could never forget her.”

  Grandpa’s face softened. “No.”

  How did Chaz, the buffoon, tap into his grandfather’s experience?

  Grandpa stared out the window, an attempt to look casual. But AJ knew he was shaken.

  Chaz pursed his lips. “It’s what they’re known for.”

  AJ thought sure Chaz’s knowing tone would piss his grandfather off even more, but Grandpa tipped the pitcher into his glass and downed a third of it.

  Chaz leaned toward him, intent as a Svengali. “Tell me about the mermaid.”

  The switch from plural to singular unnerved AJ. Chaz had something up his sleeve. Something he didn’t want to share with AJ.

  Grandpa’s voice sounded as far away as the look in his eyes. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful in all my life. She sat on a rock.” He chuckled to himself. “Trying to untangle a knot in her hair. I found myself drawn to her uncontrollably. I took the comb from my pocket and held it out. She started to push away into the waves. Then she saw the comb. I knew she wanted it. I told her I’d sit and watch, wouldn’t try to harm her.”

  Mesmerized, AJ and Chaz listened, their mouths agape.

  “Then what?” Chaz whispered.

  Grandpa spoke as one hypnotized. “She took it. Her hand touched mine–warm and smooth, not cold like I expected. She asked me to sing to her while she combed her hair. They love a good singing voice.”

  “What happened then?” Chaz couldn’t get enough.

  The faraway look left Grandpa’s face. He shrugged. “I sang. She combed. I watched.”

  AJ brightened. “I’m a good singer. I used to be in a band.”

  “A punk band,” Grandpa dismissed him.

  “Indie,” AJ corrected. “Hey, chicks loved my voice. Not as classy as yours, but—”

  Chaz chided, “Yeah, that’s why you’re so successful. Let your grandfather talk.” He turned to Grandpa. “What else do they like?”

  To AJ’s surprise, his grandfather continued. “Singing can actually lure them. It helps if the singer is handsome.”

  Caught in the spell, Chaz murmured, “Man, I’d love to catch one.”

  Grandpa chuckled. “It’s the mermaid who catches the man.” Back to his old self, he leaned across the table, his voice low. “If he’s taken, they man is rarely seen again.”

  Chaz narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “You must remember. These creatures are stronger than any human. If one takes a liking to you, she’ll take you home.” The teacher in Grandpa had surfaced.

  “Under the ocean?” AJ couldn’t imagine it. Was the old man teasing?

  “There must be some way to control them.” Chaz plied.

  “Only iron can repel a mermaid. As with any supernatural being.” He said it as if it were common knowledge.

  “Iron. Like a knife?” Chaz no longer sounded like a buffoon. “But they’re not really dangerous, right?”

  Grandpa laughed, the gleam in his eye as sharp as the knife he spoke of. “Many men have died at the hands of mermaids. Sometimes entire shiploads.”

  “What can we do to protect ourselves?” Chaz slipped his intentions. He planned a mermaid hunt, AJ realized.

  “You must never ask a mermaid to grant any wishes.” Grandpa must be in a generous mood. Or his love of mermaids had found too willing an audience.

  “They can grant wishes?” AJ asked.

  “Oh, yes. But you will pay dearly. Maybe with your life.” The old man spoke as if he told an old ghost story.

  “What else can they do?” Chaz spoke as if in a fever.

  The mer authoritarian, the old man’s tone was curt. “Whatever they want. For as long as they want. They don’t age, you see. Unless they choose to become mortal.”

  “Why would it want to?” Chaz apparently didn’t share his grandfather’s view of mermaids as half human.

  Grandpa gazed out over the Gulf waters, sparkling in the last rays of the sun. “The most powerful and dangerous influence in the universe. Love.”

  Chaz began to laugh, then saw the old man’s seriousness. “So did you ever see the mermaid again?”

  Unblinking, statue like, the old man sat in a dreamlike state.

  “Grandpa?” AJ reached for his arm but didn’t touch him, afraid of startling him.

  “Hmm?” His grandfather turned to face them, his face serene.

  “Did you see her again?” Chaz prompted.

  Grandpa sighed. “Oh, yes.”

  Chaz looked crazed with curiosity. “What’d she look like?”

  Grandpa shook his head. “The most gorgeous girl. Shapely as they come. Eyes as blue
as the sea. And her tail… I can’t even describe its luminescence, how it caught the sunlight like an iridescent rainbow, the colors changing with every movement. An enchanting creature.”

  Chaz’s hunger to hear more grew. “So you sang to her. Then what?”

  “I went to the spot for two weeks, trying to catch a glimpse. I sang my heart out to the sea.” He chuckled. “People thought I’d gone bonkers.”

  Perched on the edge of his seat like a hawk, Chaz nodded. “It brought her back.”

  Grandpa met his gaze. “It brought her back.”

  AJ’s curiosity piqued. All those carvings, for all these years. He’d always thought it a hobby, nothing more. His grandfather’s face, flushed and alive with the memory, said it was more. Much more.

  Grandpa’s face softened. “I saw a movement in the waves. I couldn’t quite tell if a dolphin swam there, or merely a play of light and shadow on the sea. I kept singing, and walked to the edge of the rocks. She sat there, her chin resting on her hands, listening. I crouched–slowly, so I wouldn’t frighten her. I skipped the last few refrains.” He looked at AJ. “She asked why.” He laughed, as if amazed all over again.

  “She knew the song?” AJ knew it must mean something. “What song did you sing?”

  “Love Me Tender.” Grandpa threw up his hands. “How could she have known the song? It had only been on the radio a few months.”

  “She was an Elvis fan?” AJ laughed. Grandpa said his grandmother had been an Elvis fan, responsible for the velvet paintings and knick knacks.

  Chaz’s impatience surfaced. “And then what? Keep going.”

  Grandpa’s voice strengthened. “We talked awhile. She left.”

  “Did you see her again?” Chaz prodded.

  His grandfather slapped his hands on the table and stood. “No. Excuse me. I need to use the facilities. AJ, get the check, will you?”

  “Sure thing.” About time Grandpa clammed up. In front of Chaz, anyway.

  After he’d shuffled across the room, Chaz bit his straw. “What’s his problem?”

  “Probably getting tired.” Tired of Chaz. Chaz pushed too hard. Grandpa didn’t like to be pushed.

  Chaz followed the old man with his eyes. “Yeah, well. There’s more to the story. And I want to know what.” He drained his beer bottle.

  The fact his grandfather had told the story at all seemed a miracle. “Nah. If he knew anything else, he’d have told us.” But he didn’t want Chaz to hear the rest, any more than Grandpa did.

  AJ caught Sandra’s eye, and mimed writing on his hand. The waitress nodded.

  Chaz held up his empty bottle. “Can I get another one of these?” To AJ, he said, “You’re not takin’ off, are you?”

  “I want to make sure Grandpa gets home all right. I have some things I need to do anyway.” Like get away from this dude.

  Chaz winced. “Ah, man.”

  Grandpa returned the same time Sandra brought the check.

  AJ pushed out of the booth and handed her cash, then followed him outside. “Throw me the keys.”

  Grandpa reached in his pocket and tossed them to AJ. On the way out, neither said a word. The tinny-sounding tunes on the oldies station grated against AJ, but he knew better than to ask to change it.

  He turned on to Shoal Line Boulevard, steered into the narrow gravel driveway and cut the engine. “So did you? See her again?”

  Grandpa held out his hand for the keys. AJ dropped them into his palm. “I get it. You were just goofing on Chaz, right?”

  “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” The old man pushed open the door with a grunt, shuffled down the dark walkway, and went inside.

  The evening contained many surprises, not the least of which was his grandfather’s fervent admission about the mermaid. To Chaz, of all people. Almost like he’d wanted to tell AJ about it for years, but didn’t know how. Or had been afraid he’d laugh.

  Chaz didn’t laugh. He provided the perfect foil for Grandpa, to speak to AJ through Chaz.

  The cool sea air roused him from the car. He walked the unkempt path to the back of the house, ducking through the palms and overgrown ferns.

  He stood at the edge of the yard, where the silver-tipped, flowing onyx waves were visible in the space between two houses across the street. Could it be possible for a Weeki Wachee mermaid to have put one over on the old man?

  A dim yellow light shone from the back patio as the door creaked open. His grandfather switched on the radio–ugh, the same oldies station–and sat on the glider. He lit a candle, picked up the carving he’d begun earlier and worked his knife against it. Never satisfied with the likenesses, he’d finish one, then start another. He must have a hundred of them throughout the house in various states of completion.

  I see the harbor lights, Elvis sang, his velvet voice crooning from the radio. Grandpa snapped his head up and looked out toward the sea. Candlelight flickered across the crags and lines of his face. His deep baritone mixed with Presley’s as he sang along, someday the harbor lights… until the last, when his voice cracked as he sang, will bring you back to me. He swiped at his cheek.

  AJ backed further into the shadows, then to the front of the house. He slipped in the front door and down the hall. When he walked to the kitchen a few minutes later, Grandpa came in.

  The interior light of the fridge cut across the kitchen as AJ opened the door.

  His grandfather’s eyes flashed in the dim light. “Don’t eat me out of house and home.”

  He held up the milk carton like a white flag of surrender. “Just need a drink. I’m still full from dinner.” He tensed; dinner was a sore subject.

  Grandpa grunted and went to the sofa. The television blared to life, lighting the edge of his grandfather’s figure like a flickering aura.

  AJ paused at the end of the hallway. “Can I get you anything?”

  Grandpa kept his eyes on the news. “I’ve managed all these years without you.”

  Without anyone. No wonder the old man seemed a little off balance. He’d never remarried, though Grandma had been gone for nearly thirty years. Even for his mom, memories of her were mere flashes of images, too insubstantial to piece together. Long dark hair framing a porcelain face. A beautiful smile. AJ only knew her from photographs.

  “Good night, then.”

  Grandpa mumbled something resembling an abbreviated night.

  In his room, AJ turned on the light. Some of the boxes were missing, but old stuff, there for years, still overcrowded the room.

  He lit a candle and switched the light out. The old man used electricity sparingly, so AJ would too.

  He unlatched his guitar case and pulled the instrument to him. Its familiar weight against his chest, the texture of the strings against his fingertips comforted him. Their vibration resonated within him. With a guitar in his hands, AJ never felt out of place, time held a vibrant clarity yet floated away on his melodies. He’d let his music slip away from him this past year. Like it had betrayed him, rather than the other way around. He’d neglected the guitar after the band’s dismal failure, but always felt its presence inside the case, beckoning him to run his fingers along the strings. Not playing had made him miserable.

  With each pluck of a string, he made amends and an unspoken promise.

  Chapter Five

  On Monday, AJ couldn’t seem to duck Chaz. On his morning break, the guy showed up at the drink cart down from the Wilderness Cruise as if he’d happened by. At lunch, he came into the Mermaid Galley Restaurant moments after him. AJ lingered on the boat at closing time, taking extra time to secure it. He ran into Harry and chatted with him for a few minutes before strolling to the lockers, but again, Chaz followed him to the employee area, complaining what a tough day it had been.

  Like a sticky shadow, Chaz buddied up to AJ as if he were his long-lost friend all week. He talked on and on about how he knew he’d find a real live mermaid, just like AJ’s grandfather. The more AJ attempted to convince him it was a gag, the more determin
ed Chaz became.

  By Friday, when Chaz waited by the lockers after AJ’s shift ended, his determination had grown into desperation. He stood close by as AJ changed his shirt. “All I’m askin’ is one more meetin’ with your grandfather. He’s a smart man. He could give us more clues about what to do, what not to do. Like the bit about wishes–I never heard that before.”

  AJ slammed his locker shut. “Forget it. He didn’t even talk to me all weekend.” It was a lie, but necessary to keep Chaz away from Grandpa.

  “Come on, man. I know we can make this work, but we need a little more help.” Chaz followed him into the hallway.

  The dude was certifiable, but it seemed the only way to get him to back off was to go along with him. “What would you do with a mermaid once you caught her? Make her fall in love with you?” Awful images came to AJ’s mind: Chaz’s slimy smile aimed at a beautiful mermaid, slipping down the length of her tail, followed by his hand.

  Chaz took hold of AJ’s shoulder. “Quiet, man. Someone will hear you.” He pulled him out to the parking lot. “I got a plan bigger than that. Way bigger. Do you know what people would pay to see a real freakin’ mermaid?”

  AJ squinted in the glare of the sunset. “So you’d set her up as a freak show?” He checked his watch; he wanted to spend his free time with his guitar, not this nut job.

  Chaz spoke in a low and even tone, surprisingly businesslike. “No, not exactly. We’d have to train her to do routines for shows, like they do here. But these Weeki Wachee mermaids can only stay underwater two and a half minutes, tops. Imagine what an actual mermaid can do. Swim with dolphins… man, whatever we want.”

  “Like a Sea World show?” AJ couldn’t hold back a smile. Chaz seemed to think he had his first million already made.

  “They’d pay a lot of money for a real mermaid.” Chaz flashed his showman’s smile. “Our show will be better than Sea World. I ain’t sellin’ it until she’s good and famous. Get a helluva price for it then.”

  AJ nodded. “Sounds like you have it all planned out. See you.” He walked across the parking lot.

  “Where you goin’? We got lots to figure out yet.” Chaz looked smaller somehow.