The Mermaid's Mirror

by L. K. Madigan

  Chapter 24

  You will find it.

  When Lena woke up, those words were clear in her mind. The mermaid had given her the key for a reason. She wouldn’t give it to someone who had no hope of finding its lock.

  Lena felt around her bed in the dark, a small wave of fear surging over her when her hands encountered only bedding. Had someone come in while she was sleeping and taken it? She sat up and pushed back her covers, relief flooding her when she found the key. It had slipped farther down in the bed.

  Vowing not to lose it again, even for a moment, Lena climbed out of bed and fumbled her way in the dark to her desk. She felt in the top drawer for her flashlight. They often lost power during windstorms, so every room in the house contained a flashlight.

  Shielding her eyes until they grew accustomed to the light, she shone the beam into her jewelry box. She moved things around until she found the gold chain she was looking for, and held it up to the light.

  No, too delicate. She was afraid the chain might break and the key would be lost. She clutched the key convulsively at the thought.

  She opened her bureau drawers one at a time, slowly, so they wouldn’t make noise. When she got to the bottom drawer, she withdrew a blue scarf knitted in velvet yarn. Her mom had gone through a short-lived knitting phase when she was pregnant with Cole, creating booties and a blanket for the baby, and scarves for Lena and her dad.

  Perfect. It hardly ever got cold enough to wear a scarf, anyway. Lena took a pair of scissors from her desk and snipped the end of the scarf. Unraveling the thick strands of yarn, she pulled free a single strand measuring about three feet in length. She snipped the other end and fed it through the open top of her key. Then she triple-knotted the two ends of yarn together and slipped the homemade necklace around her neck, tucking it under her shirt. The softness of the yarn and the hardness of the metal felt exactly right against her skin.

  She crawled back in bed, glancing at her clock radio. 3:39. She could sleep another three or four hours, thank goodness. Magic’s had beaten her up, and she needed rest.

  Lena’s breathing grew regular and her limbs relaxed. Images of the mermaid drifted through her dreams. “Come to me,” sang the creature. “Heed my call.”

  I’m coming.

  Lena dreamed she was slipping out of bed and opening her door. Halfway down the stairs, a small sound broke through her dreams, and she paused. Cole was crying.

  Lena woke up.

  She felt the oak banister under her hand and grabbed it to keep from falling down the stairs. She might have stood there a long time, trembling and telling herself, “I’m okay, I’m okay. I’m safe in the house,” but she heard another cry from Cole’s room.

  She hurried back upstairs and eased open the door to his room. He sat up in bed, mumbling, “. . . can’t have it,” then lay back down. Lena watched him for a minute, but he was asleep. She closed his door very gently. She crossed the hall to her own room and went inside, closing her own door very gently, too.

  The mermaid came as close to shore as she dared, and she rocked in the waves until dawn, waiting for the girl to appear. When the sky began to lighten, she uttered one lonely moan and slid beneath the surface.

  Chapter 25

  PemberLoca: How r u today? U didn’t call.

  Sea_girl: So so tired.

  PemberLoca: No wonder! U got rinsed at magic’s, huh?

  Sea_girl: Plus the rents caught me so I’m grounded for life.

  PemberLoca: !!!!

  Sea_girl: Janni got worried n called them on their date. They were waiting for me when I got home.

  PemberLoca: Gah! Were they rly rly mad?

  Sea_girl: Yes n no.

  Lena paused. It was so much more complicated than she could ever explain to Pem. How could she say, “Well, I told my mom I was surfing with my boyfriend, when in reality I’m obsessing about a mermaid who, it turns out, is real, and I can prove it, because she gave me a key, which must mean something, but what?! I’m not sure, and I’m trying to figure it out. Help!”

  A feeling of loneliness washed over her.

  Pem’s world revolved around very human concerns like friends and school and Max. Lena’s world had become a tangle of broken sleep and waking dreams . . . voices in her head and mermaids in the water . . . locks and keys and calls from the sea.

  PemberLoca: U there?

  Sea_girl: Yeah sorry. Just thinking. Thx for coming to the rescue. Max is a hero.

  PemberLoca: ☺

  Sea_girl: I better get off since I’m grounded. Lets talk tomorrow.

  PemberLoca: K bye.

  Sea_girl: Bye.

  Lena greeted her dad warily at breakfast. He was eating a bowl of oatmeal and staring down at his newspaper.

  “Dad?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate that.”

  It’s time to tell him about the sleepwalking, thought Lena.

  Her dad stood up and carried his bowl to the sink. “I have to go in to work today. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “On a Sunday?”

  “Yep. Problems with the server.” He left the room.

  Wow, she thought. He’s really mad at me. He’s never been that cold before.

  Kaiborg: U didn’t answer ur phone.

  Sea_girl: Mom took it. Im grounded.

  Kaiborg: ??

  Sea_girl: Long story. I lied about where I was.

  Kaiborg: Oh? Where were u?

  Sea_girl: No big deal. Just surfing at magics.

  Even though Lena hadn’t planned to tell Kai, now that she’d been caught and had to tell him, it gave her a little thrill to talk about Magic’s.

  Kaiborg: Haha. Very funny.

  Sea_girl: . . .

  Kaiborg: Leen??

  Sea_girl: Its true.

  Kaiborg: OMG.

  Sea_girl: I know. Crazy. & amazing.

  Kaiborg: But why?

  Sea_girl: Just rly wanted to try it.

  Kaiborg: I cant even . . . !

  Sea_girl: Um theres one other thing too.

  Kaiborg: ??

  Sea_girl: I kinda told my parents u were there too.

  Kaiborg: What? Why?!

  Sea_girl: Its complicated.

  Kaiborg: Explain then.

  Sea_girl: Its too long to tell in chat. Will tell u Monday at school.

  Kaiborg: Lena I kinda think u owe me an explanation. Call from ur when u get a chance.

  Sea_girl: K. I will.

  Kai logged off without saying goodbye. Now he was mad at her, too. With good reason. She touched the shape of the key through her shirt. Well, they could all be mad at her; she didn’t care. This key was totally worth whatever price she had to pay.

  “Okay, remind me again,” said Kai. “Your parents know you went surfing, and they think I was with you, but they don’t know you were at Magic’s. Have I got it straight?”

  “Yes. For the hundredth time, I’m sorry.”

  “And for the hundredth time, help me understand. Why Magic’s, Lena? I would go surfing with you anytime, anywhere. All you had to do was ask. I would even lie for you. But Magic’s? That . . . I don’t understand.”

  Lena glanced over at Pem, who was eating lunch with Leslie, Martha, and some other drama people. Pem flashed her a sympathetic look. She had told Lena earlier, “You’re on your own with Kai. He’s upset, not only about the fact that you dragged him into the lie to your parents, but about the fact that you’re grounded and can’t spend any time with him outside of school. He ranted about it to me for half an hour yesterday. So make nice with him.”

  Lena was trying to make nice, but Kai was persistent in wanting explanations. And she couldn’t say, “A mermaid lives at Magic’s . . . that’s why I had to go there.” All she could say, over and over, was, “I’m really sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  Although . . . that was maybe not true.

  She might surf Magic’s again.

&nb
sp; Lena decided to change tactics. She stood up and came around to Kai’s side of the table. She waited until he turned around, then she sat down on his lap and put her arms around him, nestling close. She put her lips against his ear and whispered, “Don’t be mad. Is there anything I can do?” She sighed against his ear and stroked the back of his neck.

  As she had hoped, Kai melted. He shifted her on his lap and gave her a long, deep kiss. When they finally broke apart, he murmured, “More of this. Let’s take a walk before lunch is over.”

  Lena didn’t mind being grounded too much, since it meant she would have the house to herself when both her parents were at work. She had decided to take a systematic approach to her search for the lock that fit her key. She would start by searching her own house and yard before she moved on to the wider world of keyholes.

  However, her parents had apparently decided to keep her under near-constant surveillance. Monday her mom was waiting outside school when she came out, having left work early to pick her up. Mom gave Kai a level stare before lifting her hand in greeting. Abashed, Kai slunk away. Tuesday was an exact duplicate of Monday, except that her mom unbent enough to give Kai a small smile.

  Wednesday, unbelievably, her dad was there after school, waiting for her.

  “No way?” said Lena.

  Kai hung back when he saw her dad’s car. “I’m not going out there. I’m afraid of your dad,” he said.

  “You’re afraid of my dad?” she said. “Have you met your sister? She could snap my dad like a twig.”

  He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Um, my kiss is implied. I don’t want to risk your dad seeing me.” He went back in the school.

  Lena opened the passenger door and got in the car. “Server fine now?” she asked coldly. She and her dad had hardly spoken since the surfing incident.

  “What?” he said. “Yes.”

  “How much longer are you and Mom going to chauffeur me home?”

  He looked at her with his gaslight blue eyes, unsmiling. “Until we feel we can trust you again.”

  Thursday must have been the day their trust returned, because zero parents were waiting for her after school. Either that, or neither one could get away from work.

  Lena wanted nothing more than to take a long walk on the beach—she felt like she’d been away from it for weeks, instead of days. But she knew she shouldn’t miss the opportunity to look for the lock that fit her key.

  When she got home, she set to work searching the garage, opening as many boxes as she could reach, getting dusty and grimy. She carefully set up a ladder and reached for the boxes that were up high. Some were too heavy, and she had to leave them where they were and hope that they were just filled with books or something. After what seemed like hours, she pushed the last box back in place and sat down on the workbench.

  Whatever it was, the lock that fit this key did not seem to be in the garage. And she’d never seen any kind offunky old trunks anywhere in the house. Maybe it was in her parents’ room.

  You will find it, she reminded herself.

  She stood at the doorway of her parents’ room, looking in. The thought of going through their drawers and closets made her feel slightly ill, but it had to be done.

  Just not today.

  Chapter 26

  “Lena, want anything from the store?” called her dad.

  “No, thanks,” said Lena. “Wait! Yes, I do. Could you get me some sushi from Miso on Main for lunch?”

  Miso on Main was always packed with day-trippers on the weekends. By the time her dad finished the grocery shopping, he would have to wait twenty minutes or more for a sushi order.

  “Well, I wasn’t really planning on going there.”

  “Oh, Dad, come on. I have a craving for shrimp rolls with seaweed.”

  “What a surprise,” she heard him mutter from below. “Fine, I’ll add that to my list.”

  She hung over the banister. “Thanks, Dad. Love you.”

  “Love you, too. See you in an hour or so.”

  Lena listened to the back door close, the car engine start, and the garage door open and close.

  Then, with a reluctant step, she entered her parents’ bedroom. Her mom was at a wedding and would not be back for hours. Cole was across the street at Austin’s house. As squicky as she felt at the idea of invading her parents’ privacy, Lena knew she might not get another chance to search their room. And her desire to unlock this mystery was stronger than her guilt.

  For the past week, she had spent every spare moment looking through all the cupboards, drawers, and closets in the house, except in her parents’ room. She had even wandered around outside in the front and back yards, fretting over a possible buried chest, and wondering if she would have to dig up every square foot of garden.

  Somehow, after wearing the key close to her heart for seven days, she felt that it would not lead her astray. And she did not believe the lock she sought was underground.

  Pulling the key from under her shirt, Lena held it loosely in her hand for a moment, as if seeking guidance. The sun had gone behind a cloud, making her parents’ bedroom seem darker than usual. She smelled the scent of her mom’s jasmine lotion and her dad’s woodsy after-shave.

  Where to start?

  Lena looked at the bedside tables. On her mom’s side was a stack of books, mostly mysteries, with a gardening magazine lying on top. On her father’s side was just one book, a Stephen King paperback. Lena didn’t know how he could read horror novels and then fall asleep, but he loved them. She glanced at her mom’s dresser drawer and opened it. Mostly just lacy, silky things, wafting the scent of jasmine up to her more strongly. She closed the drawer hastily. She paused at her father’s drawer.

  Ew, what if there are . . . marital things . . . in there? she thought. Her mind skated over the idea like it was a patch of black ice.

  Holding her breath, she pulled the drawer open and glanced inside quickly, making sure there was nothing like a locked box, then shut the drawer. Whew.

  She turned to their big mahogany bureau next. Coins, scraps of paper, a book of crossword puzzles, and various other objects littered the top. A large cobalt-blue hand—used for holding rings and other pieces of jewelry—stood at one end of the bureau. It was, of course, a gift from Grandma Kath. Lena shuddered. That disembodied hand, frozen in a blue-fingered reach, had always creeped her out. Trying not to look at the hand, Lena opened and closed the drawers, scanning their contents cursorily.

  She turned away from the bureau with relief and examined their closet. It was about five feet across, with two sliding mirrored doors pulled shut. Avoiding her guilty reflection, she opened the right side door and looked at the rows of shoeboxes on the shelf. Dragging a chair over to the closet, she stood up on it and opened the box closest to her. Cards and letters addressed to her mom from her dad. She closed the lid. The next box held old CDs. The third and fourth boxes were full of letters, postcards, and photos from other friends and family. None of these boxes seemed to contain anything that Lena should be looking through. Another pang of guilt nudged her.

  Shoving aside the shoeboxes, Lena looked deeper on the shelf. At the very end on the left side was a larger metal box, like something for holding files. Now, that looks promising, she thought, noting its lock. She couldn’t reach it from her position on the chair, so she got down, closed the right side door, and opened the left. Then she moved the chair to the other side of the closet. She paused to look at the clock. Her dad had been gone for about half an hour.

  She climbed up onto the chair again and reached for the metal box. Disappointed, she saw that the lock was too small for her key, and anyway, the box wasn’t locked. The tabs on the folders inside read Archive Bank Statements, Past Tax Returns, Legal Documents, and Old. Strange that her parents kept this in the closet instead of in Dad’s office.

  Lena climbed down off the chair and sat on the floor. She pulled out the file marked Legal Documents. There were the birth certificates for Lena and Cole, and the m
arriage certificate for her parents: Brian Wayne Whittaker and Allison Lee Briggs.

  She glanced at the last legal document. It was a death certificate.

  Lena stared at it in dismay. There was her mother’s name, Lucy Whittaker, no middle initial. Under cause of death was typed: Suicide by drowning.

  Chapter 27

  Lena let the paper fall from her fingers.

  After a long, airless moment, she lay down on the floor, pulling her knees to her chest.

  Here was the truth that her father had been unable to tell her. Here was a piece of paper that explained years of “I’m not ready.”

  Suicide by drowning.

  Lena closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry even as her heart cracked deep inside. Her mother had been dead for a dozen years. Yet the stab of pain Lena felt at this new knowledge melted the years away, and that chamber in her heart where she stored her mother’s loss opened wide, stacking new grief upon the old.

  “Why?” she whispered. “Was being my mom so awful?”

  She could feel the ache of tears behind her eyes, and she took deep breaths to help her focus on not crying. She bit down hard on her lower lip. Finally she opened her eyes and sat up. Forty-five minutes had passed since her father had left. She still hadn’t found the lock for this key. If she didn’t find it today, she felt certain that she could never bring herself to look through her parents’ room again.