With the jolts of pain worsening by the minute, I had to know what I saw was real, particularly in the event I quite literally split apart. I simply cannot leave this world wondering whether another world existed beneath the sea…a world that could very well be home to one Troy Tombolo.
“You…you had a tail,” I muttered, trying not to scream.
“Some call it a fin,” he said softly, steadily crushing the coral.
“So, it’s true! You’re a…a fish!”
“That’s pretty generic.” He poured the coral powder in a bowl with some blue goop.
“You’re a mermaid,” I said, only half-believing the words my mouth dared to utter.
“And that would be sexist,” he said, dragging a cushioned chair next to the bed, coral concoction in hand. “I prefer merman, if you don’t mind,” he whispered, gently brushing strands of wet hair from my face.
“Merman,” I echoed, disbelievingly. “Are you the only one?” I really didn’t need to ask.
“No. Everyone in school is a merperson, apart from the Normals and their relatives.”
“Fairhairs and Ravenflames…all of them are…are—”
“Merpeople, yes,” he supplied. “I need you to stay very still. After the next surge of pain, I will begin treating you.”
Where could I go? Had it not been for the squid’s sting, I’m quite certain shock would have kept me still as stone.
“Tell me, what do you miss most about Christmas?” he asked.
“You’re just trying to keep my brain from asking you more questions.”
“Wise ass,” he muttered. “If you really want to know the truth…the next pain you feel will be nothing short of horrific. I’m just trying to engage your mind away from the pain. Work with me. Now, let me guess, you miss the presents most of all, right?”
“Actually, no. Presents are nice, but they aren’t my favorite part of Christmas. I love the little things—the music, the tree, brightly colored lights. If I could, I would keep a room in my house decorated for Christmas year-round.”
Another mind-numbing sting coursed around and through my abdomen, only this time I could actually feel my stomach and insides stretching.
“I’ll walk you through this, so you won’t be in the dark with what I’m doing,” he said, carefully lifting my shirt.
My modesty must have triggered some kind of nervous reaction because I mindlessly watched my hands cover his.
Troy simply smiled, looked me in the eye, and whispered, “I would never violate you, even if it’s only with my eyes. Right now, I only care about your stomach and your life.”
What hurt more, I wonder—the wound or the burning need to have him touch me? This question was swiftly resolved after another searing pain.
“I’m going to rub this over your stomach and into the wound. It will hurt. It will burn. Place your hand on my knee and squeeze as hard as it hurts. Here we go.” He slowly started spreading the cream all over my wound. The burning was excruciating. My back arched in sheer agony. I clamped my hand over his knee. “I know it hurts, I know,” he said tenderly.
“Am…I hurting…you,” I stammered, trying to stay conscious.
“Not at all. Do what you need to do to me.”
Oh, God, if he only knew. “Was that shark genetically engineered?”
“You mean like some science fiction film? Afraid not. He’s really that big. Bet you’ll never watch a shark movie the same way again,” he said.
“Hadn’t thought of that.” I will probably never again watch a shark movie. “Polly. I saw two people force her into the sea tonight.”
“Really?” he said, continuing to massage the cream into my stomach.
“Really times two.” The warmth of his hands gently pressing against my skin was a welcome replacement for the subsiding pain.
“Now, I’m going to finish with a deep massage to make sure all the poison is squeezed out. I have to press pretty hard.” I nodded. His firm touch made me feel so relaxed. After a few minutes, he exhaled. “There, the poison is gone. The wound will heal completely in time, but it’ll be red for a while.”
“Thank you…for saving my life,” I whispered, taking his hand in mine. “You changed my path…you defeated the cards…never happens.”
“Here, drink this,” he said, handing me something foamy and pink.
“What is it?” I asked warily.
“It will help you sleep. The deeper you sleep, the quicker your wound will heal,” he said, stroking my hair.
I had no words left to say, though my mind overflowed with an endless stock of questions. My brain, heart, body, and soul ached, but what they truly ached from, I cannot say, for I am certain this went beyond mere physical exhaustion.
“Close your eyes, Rubylocks,” he said.
“Mind won’t shut off.”
“Maybe this will help,” he said, switching on the stereo.
“Behind the Waves,” I said, smiling faintly.
“Shhh, just listen to the music,” he whispered, caressing my face.
Closing my eyes, I realized I actually did get the New Year’s Eve kiss I so longed for, only it was so much more—it was a kiss of life. We’ll not discuss the whole I kissed a fish aspect until, well, never. Sleep was finally silencing my mind…thank goodness, because tomorrow’s thoughts are sure to keep me awake for the rest of my life. Sigh. I’m so finned.
Chapter Nine
History…Not Always Boring
January: Eh. Blah. Big deal.
Monthly Life Caption: I. Hate. The. New. Year.
Mood: Numb
Eating: 24/7 hog-fest
Music: Instrumental. Lyrics make me think about too many things.
As a rule, I never wish anyone a Happy New Year. No exceptions. Likewise, should anyone wish me a Happy New Year, I simply smile, nod, and walk away. Never, under any circumstance, do I return said well wishes. I consider it my moral obligation to refrain from saying anything to anyone that is a hypocritical lie.
In no possible way was the New Year actually “new.” It was the same old predictable pattern: (1) Feel the rising hope that this year will be different; (2) Make resolutions to ensure said better year; (3) Slowly begin implementing resolutions; (4) Realize resolutions suck; (5) Quickly stop implementing resolutions; (6) Realize this new year is the same as the last year, and the one before it, and the one before that; (7) Quickly fall back on old habits; (8) Say out loud, “My life sucks.” WASH. RINSE. REPEAT.
As a result of my un-infectious non-enthusiasm, I never make resolutions. Nothing new ever happens…unless, of course, we can call it bad, weird, or confusing. Enter my night with a merman.
For me, everything was new this year: I nearly died by means of a demonic pier, possessed scarf, squid sting, shark attack, and “simple” drowning; a merman saved my life and reversed my fate; I kissed a merman; mermaids exist, and they live all around me. Pause for the huh and wow moment.
My brain felt like a big watery sack with all of these facts, memories, and visions swimming around, struggling to create a semblance of something rational. One fact was clear: Trey discovered the existence of mermaids.
First day back at Mermaid School: Lunch. Tray in hand, I mindlessly walked to the Normals’ table. As I did, I couldn’t help but look around the cafeteria at all the faces I once thought to be odd, but otherwise the same as every other screwed up teenager. Now, I couldn’t help but gaze at them with blank amazement. These people were mythological creatures. A smile forced itself upon my mouth—a response that made my stomach churn. There were too many questions I needed answered before I could allow my girly mind to drown under the delusion of a self-fantasized fairy tale. Why were there so few Normals? Where do they go when they leave? What happened to Polly? Though my head spun with deeply irrational suspicion, I took comfort knowing these questions would act as my life preserver, keeping me well clear of my desires for one specific merman.
“These chairs are for sitting, you know,” sai
d Meikle, looking a little pale.
“Sorry. My mind was on a walkabout,” I replied.
“Was it walking about the ‘thank you’ you owe me, by chance?”
“Huh? Confusion personified here.”
“Well, you’re alive…”
“I am. Very alive. All in one piece. So…” I could feel my eyes widen and bug like a clueless twit.
“Uh, the big ‘so’ is that my spell worked. Gratitude would be good,” she said, churning the contents of her bag as if it were her cauldron.
When Meikle silently threatens me with her spooky bag, I know I’ve stepped in it big time. “I’m sorry, Meeks. Of course I’m grateful for your life saving, reader crushing spell.”
“Apology and gratitude. Good enough. Ugh, okay, stupid stomach…you’re gonna shut the frig up in two seconds. Stomach, meet my bottle of pink goodness.” Meikle removed a bottle of stomach-calmer from her bag and downed it. “Anyway, ya hear about Polly McPrepster?”
“You know about that?” I asked.
“Can you believe it? I never would have thought…” Meikle slumped over suddenly.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’ve just been feeling sick all morning. I didn’t think I ate too much of that candy, but I guess I did,” she said, grabbing her stomach. “Stomachs can go to hell.”
“So, how did you hear about Polly?” I asked in a hushed voice.
“Uh, well my mom told me.”
“Your mom knows?”
“Of course she does. Mr. Anderson told her this morning.”
“Wait. Mr. Smarmy told your mom what and huh?”
“That Polly moved on New Year’s Eve. I blame her demon bits for not telling us how,” she said, clutching her stomach. “Evil bastard gut!”
“You think she moved? She didn’t. I saw her New Year’s Eve. Two people pulled her into the ocean, Meeks. She’s gone.”
“Oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn. It’s my fault. The spare-a-life spell called for a repelling of demons and all those related by blood. It must have spawned some creatures to detect demons, and they ended up dragging Polls away. They probably got Mrs. Purdue first, and then came back for Polly, since she’s the one with actual demon traits. My God, what if I killed her? What if I killed her mom?”
“Maybe not…I mean, no it didn’t. I’m sure it didn’t, you didn’t…it—didn’t.”
“Your acting skills suck. I’ll have to look for a counter spell. I can restore a demon if it’s trapped in some middle dimension. So, her hellion halves just might save her and her mom. Speaking of Polls and her weird tendencies, why didn’t you—”
Before she finished her question, Meikle fell out of her chair, convulsing. Foam issued from her mouth, and her eyes rolled back in her head.
“MEIKLE! Oh, God. Help, somebody!”
Though the Fairhairs seemed to jolt a little, none of them ran over. Naturally, the Ravenflames simply watched, amused. Just when I was about to cuss them out, Troy hurried over. He immediately checked her pulse and instructed Airianna to get Mr. Gibbs. He looked at me somberly before gliding his hand over her chest; when he did, a silver shimmer melted into her skin, and she was instantly peaceful.
“Is she okay?” I asked warily.
“She’s sleeping now, but she’s not well,” he whispered.
“What’s wrong with her?”
He shook his head and frowned. “I’m not sure.”
“What’s wrong here?” asked Mr. Gibbs, rushing over.
“Her stomach was really upset. She fell to the floor and started shaking uncontrollably. If it hadn’t been for Troy, I don’t know what might have happened,” I said, not making eye contact with anyone.
“I’ll take her to the hospital. Airianna, please have Mrs. Suttonbury inform Meikle’s mother. Marina, you should go home for the day. I’ll tell your mom.” In his eyes, I saw pity—pity for me, now being the last standing Normal.
“I’ll take her home, Sir,” offered Troy.
“Thank you, Troy,” said Mr. Gibbs, lifting Meikle. “Marina, can you take this bag?”
Even unconscious, Meikle wouldn’t let go of her bag. “The bag is her precious, Mr. Gibbs. There’s no taking it from her.”
“Got it,” he said, rushing from the cafeteria with Meikle in his arms.
Troy quickly guided me from where Meikle collapsed. I could hear Katrina calling his name, but he didn’t flinch. Once we were outside, I decided to let him off the hook…um, so to speak.
“Yeah, um, I can walk home. I really don’t mind.” I didn’t lie. I wanted to be alone with Troy Tombolo about as much as I did Katrina. I simply cannot trust myself around him—my fascination for his everything clouds the rational part of my mind, which wasn’t very substantial to begin with. I suspect this was true of every teenager with raging hormones.
“I told Mr. Gibbs I’d see you home. I’d really like to keep my word.”
I simply nodded and followed him to his truck. For a few minutes, we drove in silence. I hadn’t been alone with him since the night he saved my life. I only wish my feelings fit some tidy category like “crush” or “infatuation.” Instead, I could only sense a big mess inside my head and heart. I wanted him to touch me, hold me, and kiss me. A part of me even wanted to be back in the water with him, and that desire scared me to death.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
“Blame me?” I asked, staring out the window.
“Not at all. Why haven’t you talked to me since New Year’s Eve? Haven’t you heard me outside your window?”
“I heard you. I’m really confused right now. I have scrambled eggs brain,” I said, rubbing my forehead.
“I get it. Just, be careful around the others, especially Katrina. Don’t say things that might make her think you know what we are,” he warned.
“Does it even matter now? I’m the only Normal left. Meikle is sick with who knows what, Trey is missing, and two people took Polly on a little joy-drown. Who cares what I say or do?” I said angrily.
“I care,” he said, placing his hand on mine.
My instinct screamed for me to leave my hand underneath his, but I pulled away.
“Thing is, Meikle thought Polly moved the same date I saw her forced to sleep with the sharks. Trey is missing, but the school claims he and his grandfather went on some fishing trip. I know that’s not true. His grandfather was scared, saying Trey discovered things about this town. The other Normals supposedly moved without warning, but we banished freaks can’t leave. Nothing makes sense. What happened to them, Troy? What happened to the Normals?”
“So, you did see his grandfather. Didn’t I ask if you had visited him? And didn’t you say you hadn’t?
“Well, yeah…times two.”
“Little liar,” he said, smirking. “I think it’s safe to say Trey found out about the existence of us merfolk. He’s a strong intuitionist, no question. As for his grandfather, you have to remember he has PTSD.”
“I’m getting sick of people trying to make Mr. Campbell out to be some loon. I heard Mr. Anderson burst into his house. I heard Mr. Campbell scream.”
“Trust me, I’m not trying to be disrespectful. It just wouldn’t surprise me if Trey tried to tell his grandfather about Merpeople, and that triggered his PTSD. Perhaps Trey didn’t feel safe and wanted to give his grandfather some time to calm down. He probably didn’t want to return to town because Anderson would stick him somewhere until his grandfather got better. From what I’ve seen, Trey isn’t the type to play by a stranger’s rules.”
Hmm. Makes sense. Trey would definitely prefer being alone to staying with strangers. Maybe the note from Trey was really a clue to his whereabouts! Still, unless he’s hiding in a spike-y cave on Seventeenth Street, I’m at a loss.
“Possible, I suppose. But why would Mr. Anderson be so rough with an old veteran? And why lie to my mom?”
“Politics. That’s why he wouldn’t tell your mom the truth. When you have a missing student and an unstabl
e grandfather with a gun, you’re going to try and keep it quiet for as long as possible. This town is good at keeping things pretty quiet.”
“No kidding.”
“This isn’t the first time Mr. Campbell has been taken away, Marina. It’s not like the town can have him pointing a gun at people every time he has an episode.”
“He’s threatened people before?”
Troy nodded. “Once, he ran up and down the streets, waving his gun…and Trey took off that time, too. Look, I don’t like how Anderson deals with Mr. Campbell, but…it’s just a really sensitive situation, as you can imagine. Trey’s grandfather is a war hero and a damn good man. But, there have been problems that Trey simply couldn’t handle on his own. Maybe this was another one of those times.”
“I had no idea.”
“And not to sound insensitive, but you Normals—by the way, not my label of choice—aren’t exactly normal. The school has to say something to maintain order.”
“Well, true. I might regret this, but my warped curiosity just has to follow the mer-rabbit down the hole. What label would you slap us with?”
Hitting the steering wheel and laughing, he said, “I’m a mer-rabbit, now, huh? If it were up to me, I’d call y’all Specials. No one should be outlawed because they’re different, because they’re unique. You have a God-given gift. You all do.”
Specials. That’s exactly what my dad called us. I watched him carefully—his face softened when he spoke about Normals. There was something extraordinary about Troy Tombolo, though he tried so hard to hide the depth of his heart. To hide something so magnificent deprives the world of a rare find: a purely caring heart.
“Anyway, I’m just saying that maybe the others experimented with their talents a little too much, and things went a little too far.”
“Well, Meikle was afraid her lifesaver spell might’ve inadvertently killed Polly and her mom.”
“There you go. I mean, I’m sure whatever happened to Polly and her mom is reversible. Of course, Meikle will have to get better in order to undo it. Whose life was her spell supposed to save, anyway?”
“Mine.”
FINNED (The Merworld Water Wars) Page 9