by Susan Fodor
“Welcome!” boomed the bartender. “You’re visiting?”
“Yes,” Mum took the lead, “and we’d love some food.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place,” he cheered, his voice too big for the pub, but the perfect size to make us feel at home. “Where ye from?”
“Australia,” Sophia replied proudly.
“Me favorite kind of folk, ye know ‘ow to drink a beer,” he smiled widely.
“We’re all teetotalers, I’m afraid,” Mum disagreed.
“That be a shame,” he said solemnly. “It’s the best ale in Cornwall.”
“I can’t say no to that,” Sophia said seriously. “I’ll drink for everyone.”
“A lass after my own heart.” He smiled, clapping her on the back fondly and retreating to the bar. It was strange seeing prim and proper Sophia in such a rustic place, but she blended in surprisingly well.
We sat in silence, each of us engaged in the menu as much as in our own thoughts.
Daniel and I held hands, our fingers intertwined, neither of us able to discuss the consequences of failing our mission. The only topic more taboo than not retrieving the Heart of the Sea was whether Daniel and I could even have a future together. I couldn’t live under the sea, or on Seal Rock. I was land bound. The only way Daniel and I could be together was for Daniel to abandon Atlantis. I knew that he couldn’t do that long term.
We were doomed, and so I decided to enjoy every moment I could with him, because I didn’t know how long we had. Our reunion was bittersweet. I smiled weakly at Daniel as he studied his menu. I committed every detail to memory, his roman nose, the way his curls fell across his forehead and the way he chewed the inside of his cheek when he was deliberating. I hoped that I would have him for a long time, but logic suggested otherwise.
"Me name's Jory," the bear of a bartender introduced, placing a pint of beer before Sophia. "What can I feed ye?"
"I'll have the star gazy pie," Charlie jumped in, ravenous.
I read the description of the fish pie that Charlie had ordered, wrinkling my nose in disgust.
"Me too," Daniel agreed. I almost laughed at how similar they were, but decided not to draw attention to it, instead, hoping they would find more reasons to like each other than not to.
"Do you have anything vegetarian?" Mum asked politely.
Jory grimaced. "Is lamb vegetarian?"
Mum looked torn till Jory broke out with booming laughter. "You should ‘ave seen your face! Of course we've got vegetarian; try the Herb Pasty—it's a fancy vegetable pasty."
"Perfect." Mum smiled, relieved.
"I'll have the Licky Pasty," Dr. Conneely ordered. "That's a delicious vegetarian leek pie for next time."
"The two lasses who could be sisters?" Jory charmed.
"I'll have a Cornish pasty," I said, choosing the most boring dish on the menu. Considering that Cornwall was the birthplace of pasties, I could have been more adventurous, but it would do the job.
"I'll try the Cornish Under Roast." Sophia blushed at Jory's flirting.
After our friendly barman had retreated to the kitchen Daniel fixed Sophia with a disapproving look. "You're not seriously going to drink all that?"
Sophia took a big swig of the beer. "I most certainly am.”
"That's 568 mills of beer," Charlie said analytically.
"Thanks, professor!" I rolled my eyes.
He gave me a lopsided grin, “Professor Lubeck, works for me.”
“Dag,” I mock insulted, to which he responded with a beer nut in my hair.
“Children,” Daniel warned, putting an end to the hijinx. My face burnt with embarrassment, we were on a mission to save Daniel. I really had to focus more.
"How is it?" Mum asked Sophia, drawing the attention away from Charlie and me.
Sophia handed the beer to her for a taste, Mum sipped it gingerly, she was not a big drinker.
"It's malty, huh?" Sophia smiled, her eyes scanning the pub.
Mum nodded. "I'm not much for beer, but that's a smooth drop."
"You sound like a beer commercial," Daniel teased.
I laughed. Mum and Sophia were both sophisticated beautiful women, they were a far cry from the busty bimbos that usually sold beer. But if beer didn’t make me vomit, I would have bought it from them; they were too cute.
The food swept out of the kitchen with a fragrance fit for the gods. The pasties were spectacular; the pastry was more dense and earthy than the puff pastry I'd known growing up. The chips were cut as thick as a broom handle and had the most tantalizing texture. I could imagine getting very rotund with such hearty fare.
With the ribbing and generally pleasant ambiance, it was easy to forget that in a few short days, five people would be executed unnecessarily. That truth prompted me to address Dr. Conneely.
"So where do we go after lunch?" I asked, trying to sound like I was organized. Jaimie was constantly on my back about faking it till you make it. I didn’t know if it would serve me in retrieving the Heart of the Sea, but it was my only tool.
"We need to visit someone I haven't seen in a while," he replied cryptically.
"That would be..." Charlie prompted his caramel eyes full of mischief.
"My sister," Dr. Conneely replied ominously.
kerensa
Half way to the apartment the beer hit Sophia, she wobbled on the path, till Daniel placed his arm around her waist. He half carried her back to the apartment, where she fell asleep before she hit the bed, forcing us to go without her.
"Don't look so worried," Daniel teased. "Mum will be fine; she just needs a lie down after all that beer ... I did warn her."
I stifled a grin at Daniel sounding like a parent with a vagrant child. He seemed more grown up since having returned from Atlantis. Even when he was joking and having fun, there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before---the burden of responsibility.
We were all packed into one car like sardines in a can as we drove through Porthcurno, a town so small that if you sneezed you’d miss it. We followed the signs toward the Minack Theatre and turned down a winding dirt road that could have just as easily led to a cliff drop, as a path.
When the road abruptly ended in a small circle, Mum parked the car and we went on by foot. I felt like Miss Bennett in Pride and Prejudice, walking across the green moors, the scenery as romantic and rugged as the boy who clutched my hand. The wind whipped my hair back, carrying the briny scent of the sea.
Despite the beauty of the setting, my stomach was filled with tension and the fear of failure. Daniel gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and I smiled confidently, while feeling like a total hack. Everyone was sure that I would find the Heart of the Sea, the same way that Mum was sure that I would morph into a seal one day; I had a terrible sense that neither would happen. Instead of whining---like I wanted to---I held my back straight and pushed my chest out confidently. I usually tried to reason through things logically, but there was nothing logical about my situation. I just had to hope that everyone’s faith in me was not unfounded.
Silver grey humps of granite protruded from the green cloak of grass, like ancient turtles frozen in time. Dr. Conneely lithely drew us to a tall outcropping of rocks. As we turned the corner, the wind died down and we discovered a cottage etched into the granite. From a distance it had looked like a pile of rocks, but up close, it was someone’s home.
Dr. Conneely looked apprehensive as he knocked on the solid wood door. Two sheets of glass were wedged amongst the stones as windows, graying curtains obscured a view of the inside of the cottage, but a flickering light hinted that someone might be home. Dr. Conneely knocked again. We waited for a long time before the door creaked open fractionally.
"What de ye want?" barked an angry voice that sounded like the wicked witch of the west.
"Kerensa, I just want to talk," Dr. Conneely pleaded.
The door swung open with a thud and a female version of Dr. Conneely stood in the space it left. Her back
was stooped and her graying hair was pulled into a long plait down her back. She had Dr. Conneely’s rodent features, minus all the age spots. Her face looked meaner than a hungry crocodile. Daniel and Charlie instinctively drew closer to me, unconsciously offering protection.
Yet there was something more in her eyes, untold sorrow. My heart was instantly moved to alleviate the suffering of the old woman before us.
"I can't 'elp ya," she declared. "I can't even 'elp meself."
"Can we come in?" I asked, stepping into her line of vision. I rubbed my arms and tried to look pathetic. With wind whipped hair, glossy eyes and red nose from the cold, it wasn’t a tall order to look like people in need.
She saw the rest of us for the first time and softened. "Come in, before ye freeze."
Inside she seated us at a small handcrafted wooden table and insisted on giving us stale tea in tin cups. The cottage consisted of one room; the sleeping area was cordoned off with a sheet and we were sitting in the kitchen, dining room, and entertaining area. The room was immaculate and rows of thankyou cards from various charities and locals lined the fireplace mantle.
After distributing our drinks, Kerensa slumped at the table with us, like a soul devoid of purpose. Dr. Conneely introduced us, but even before he could ask about the artifact, Kerensa was already onto us.
"I don't know what the Heart of the Sea is." She sighed. "Ye know I'd give it to ye, if I did.” I believed her, there was nothing vicious about Kerensa. Looking around her home displayed a tidy mind, and a compassionate heart that didn’t desire grandeur or riches.
None of us knew how to proceed if Kerensa couldn’t direct us.
“I'd give me fingers to go back to the sea," Kerensa breathed into the silence. The ache of being separated from home pierced my heart.
"Then why don't you return to the sea?" I asked softly, wanting to understand what would prevent her from doing something she wanted so much.
"Because that son of a fox has got me pelt," she said bitterly, her arms motioning toward nowhere in particular. "I've turned this place upside down looking for it. Wouldn't be surprised if he's buried it, the old snake!" She spat onto the floor in disgust, leaving a wet patch on the wooden slats. I didn’t know whether to giggle or recoil from how gross spitting on one’s own floor was. The bigger realization was that only someone in terrible pain would do something so illogical.
"So you're a prisoner?" I asked sadly, remembering the stories of fishermen stealing selkie pelts and keeping women against their will. To endure a life separated from the sea was one that I didn’t want to imagine. Even without being a seal I savored summer in the hot sand and frolicking in the waves. It must have been a thousand times worse for Kerensa.
"Marriage is a prison for the best of us but mine is literal," she spat woefully, her words tinged with pain.
"Where is Arthur?" Dr. Conneely enquired levelly. He looked at his sister with pity, her pain reflected in his eyes. Under the surface Dr. Conneely felt utter contempt for the man that kept his sister prisoner, but he had no choice but to be civil, as his feelings would only burden Kerensa further.
"Out fishing," she said, spitting the words out like chewing tobacco. "Ye know when they steal a selkie pelt they don't just get custody of ye, they get yer longevity. The old snake should have died decades ago and be with the devil, with demons rubbing chili in his stomach ulcers; instead he's out fishing."
Charlie raised his hand to cover his mouth, so as not to grin at the visual that Kerensa had painted. Being a nerd, he was committing the insult to memory for future use
"We've both looked everywhere," Dr. Conneely explained for our benefit. "Arthur's crafty; we just can't find it."
"Where did you last see it?" Mum asked.
I held my tongue, despite the urge to tell Mum, that if Kerensa knew where she last saw it, she'd have it already. I didn't understand the purpose behind parents asking that question. If we knew where it was last, we wouldn't be asking where it is now.
"The last time I saw it was in this cabin, the year Arthur's mother died, 1936," she calculated, "well over seventy years ago." Kerensa ran a weathered hand over her thick grey plait; in her eyes danced the image of her former self. For a moment I imagined her young and vibrant frolicking in the sea before her pelt was stolen; I felt her loss.
"We'll try and find it," I reassured, hoping that I could live up to my word. I was already on a relic hunt, what was a selkie pelt in the mix. At least if I didn’t find Kerensa’s pelt she would still live. I looked into her dark listless eyes, hoping that she would connect with me and try to help us, "Can you remember anything about the Heart of the Sea?"
She shrugged like even trying to remember was too draining. "Check the Minack Theatre; Mum was good friends with the curator there. Apart from that I don't know." Hopelessness flowed out of her, threatening to steal my false bravado. I had to keep everyone moving so that we didn’t all think too much about how easily failure could overtake us.
"Thanks for the hospitality." I smiled standing to leave, no closer to completing my task.
A shadow of doubt drifted over our group as we walked away from Kerensa’s cottage.
"That was a waste of time," Daniel fumed as we trudged back to the car.
"I'd hoped she'd remember more." Dr. Conneely sighed. "Being on land against her will has hardened Kerensa."
"Can't we just intimidate her husband into returning her pelt or fur or whatever?" Daniel asked angrily. I wanted to interject that violence didn’t solve anything, but I was interested to hear the answer.
"I tried decades ago when I was an oak of a man instead of a weed. I beat him bloody, but Arthur would go to his grave before letting Kerensa go." Dr. Conneely shook his head, shuddering at the memory. "In his own twisted way Arthur loves Kerensa; he can't understand that real love knows when to let go."
“It’s sad,” I offered, heavily.
"Let's stop at the Minack Theatre on the way back." Mum shivered as the cold wind cut through her coat. “We may as well give it go, Mya might recognize something.”
I nodded, having no idea why everyone had such faith in me. What were they expecting? That I would walk into the Minack and a golden halo would surround the Heart of the Sea, and I would just know what it was? I kept my sarcastic monologue to myself. They were all counting on me, and I had to carry myself with confidence for Daniel’s sake; so that if I failed, our last days together wouldn’t be tainted by my insecure whining.
Mum drove like a rally racer to get us to the theatre in time to watch the sky light up like a painters easel. Pastel peach, powder pink, and baby blue washed across the sky bathing the Minack in golden light.
Small clusters of tourists snapped endless photos of the sunset backdrop. The rugged cliff coastline reflected the dancing colors as the waves crashed onto the shelly shore across from the theater.
We walked down the tiered stone seating to where the stage was set up for the evening’s performance. The theatre was both rustic and elegant for A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The crashing waves and marbled cliffs vibrated with sea song under the changing light. I wondered how people could watch the show when nature was so adamant about trumping any performance humans could present.
"This was Mum's seat," Dr. Conneely said nostalgically, motioning to a seat on the end, halfway down. The cement that held the seating was decorated with the same intricate Celtic designs that adorned the whole theatre. The display depicting the history of the Minack gave me a renewed appreciation for the outdoor masterpiece; it had been primarily designed and built by a woman, Rowena Cade. The curator, who had been Celeste's closest friend. I imagined Rowena Cade doodling the art without ever knowing that her good friend was a mermaid princess.
As darkness descended, the air cooled exponentially. We had less then forty-eight hours before we had to get back on the plane. We were no closer to the Heart of the Sea than when we'd left.
Even the boisterous din of the Cable Station Inn couldn't lift the
dejected cloud that had settled over our group. Dinner was consumed with limited conversation, and we settled into our less than stellar sleeping arrangements with little fanfare. I agreed to share a double bed with Mum, so that Daniel and Charlie could take the room with two single beds, while Sophia had her own room and Dr. Conneely slept on the pullout couch.
My dreams were haunted with failure. The merman was pulling me under the water. Charlie and Daniel were out of earshot, unable to hear my high-pitched screams. I pulled toward them with all my strength, but it was futile; the merman’s clasp was like iron and his skin chainmail thick. I woke up disorientated, but the screaming continued. It wasn't me screaming.
clues
It took me a moment to get my bearings as my eyes swept across the room and I found Mum sleeping beside me. She had often joked she could sleep through a foghorn; knowing she had lived on Seal Rock made me wonder if it was a fact.
The hardwood floor was cold under my bare feet, as I rushed into the living room to find the source of the screaming. Sophia looked like a typical mum in a monster movie, with her silk slip and nightgown open, her mouth gaping as the shrill erupted from her.
“WHAT?” I screamed, grabbing a cushion to defend us.
She saw me and pointed at the couch. Daniel and Charlie erupted from their room, at the same moment as I realized that Sophia was pointing at Dr. Conneely, who was in seal form.
I lowered the cushion and gave the prone animal a shake. “Dr. Conneely...”
“Wwwwwwhat.... what?” stuttered Sophia.
Dr. Conneely roused from his sleep, groggily. “Mya?”
“Yeah.” I smiled trying to be delicate. “You should probably morph or whatever.”
Dr. Conneely looked over my shoulder at Sophia’s terrified expression.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling the blankets around himself, and quickly erupting from his seal form.
Sophia screamed again.
“It’s just Dr. Conneely,” I comforted Sophia, as Daniel draped his arm over her shoulders, stabilizing her.