When, at last, he found me.

by Adrianna Stepiano

  As Joseph and I dried off, I heard what I thought to be the roar of my Gran Torino. Before I could peek out the window, there was a knock. We gave each other a puzzling glance. He stepped to the door. It was Ethan; his mouth gave him away before Joseph could look through the peephole. “HEY—you guys in there?”

  I pushed past Joseph and opened the door. They managed to bring my car home, but how? The keys were in my CORE locker and the spare set resided on a hook by the back door. “Ethan, what did you do to my car to get it here?”

  “Wasn’t me. It was Nasani, she hotwired your car. Pretty awesome, right?” When he turned I saw the red outline of Nasani’s caudal fin on his cheek. Obviously, the fact that she slapped him unconscious didn’t bother him.

  Joseph interjected. “I’m the one who taught her that.”

  I shook my head at him. “That’s not something to be proud of.” But it was too late; Ethan gave him a fist bump, solidifying the brag.

  Nasani was shouting from the neighbor’s yard. “This isn’t funny. Where are you? Can someone come and get me?”

  Apparently, her knight in shining armor was too distracted with the hot-wiring tutorial Joseph was talking him through. I tried to remind him of his earlier commitment to stay with her, but he could not be bothered. After failing to interrupt the two men, I rushed outside to help Nasani. She was standing with her back to my house and her hand flat across her forehead.

  “I’m on my way,” I assured her.

  “I hear you but I can’t see you.” She turned. “Oh, there you are.”

  “If I take your hand and lead you to my house, will you be able to go inside?”

  “I think so. If we take people, like we did Ethan, into the caverns they’re able to see beyond the shrouded area.”

  “Let’s try it.” I took Nasani’s hand I led her onto my porch. She had her eyes closed and her other arm extended, feeling—balancing herself. I told her when there were steps but she still stumbled—laughing.

  Joseph and Ethan watched momentarily but quickly lost interest in our giggling. As I helped Nasani through the front door, I watched down the main hallway of the house and into the kitchen where the two were helping themselves to the plate of chocolate-chip cookies. Mrs. Nulant brought them by early that morning in an effort to thank me, once again, for defending the neighborhood against Joseph’s harsh words. It was almost mocking her that he was the very person enjoying the cookies. I wondered if the neighbors saw us together and what they thought of it. He promised to apologize and I hoped he would do so soon.

  Nasani opened her eyes once we crossed the threshold. “Hey, this is a nice house Seraphin.”

  “Thanks.” It was a nice house—my mind wandered again to what Joseph’s house might be like, “Nasani, where do you live?”

  “I live on the CORE campus, of course. I’m in the older apartments though; I put in a request for the new housing where Ethan is staying. Those apartments are so much nicer,” she mindlessly fidgeted with my grandmother’s knitting kit then went on to feel the fabric of the curtains like she was inspecting her surroundings.

  “Is that where Joseph lives too?” In a way, I was conducting my own inspection.

  “No.” She didn’t elaborate, even though I waited for her to say more.

  “Then where does he live?”

  Suddenly, she took interest in the bookshelf. “He has a house.”

  “I know. He told me that much. Where is the house?” I peeked around the corner to be sure he was still engaged in conversation with Ethan. I didn’t want him to overhear my questioning.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been there,” she answered.

  “But you’re his closest friend.”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  “And you’ve never been to his house?”

  “Never.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s never invited me,” she was matter-of-fact.

  Joseph stood with his arms crossed, smiling. “Doing a little investigative work Seraphin? We’re not here to find my house; we’re here to find the relics. Do you remember?”

  “Right,” I was embarrassed that he caught me digging.

  Ethan came into the room. “What’s going on?”

  Joseph answered him. “We’re just waiting for Seraphin to give us any details she might have that will lead us to the carcanet and cuff.”

  The three of them stared at me.

  I paused. Feeling pressure to produce some clues—but my mind was blank. “I’m sorry but I don’t even know where to start looking. I’ve cleaned this house from top to bottom. I would have come across them if they were here.”

  “You’re right. I don’t think your father would have endangered your life by hiding them in the house.” Joseph paced the living room.

  Nasani was still browsing through the bookshelf. “Den lille havfrue!” She slid a small worn book from the shelf—holding it with care she brought it close to her chest; closing her eyes and sighing.

  “What?” Ethan questioned.

  She opened the book, showing him the pages. “The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen—I haven’t seen this in years. My mother used to read this to me.” Saddness filled her eyes.

  Ethan glanced at the book. “It’s not written in English.”

  “I know. The story was Dutch—I have never seen an original print before. This is a treasure.” She opened the book. “Look.”

  Inside the front cover, written in ink were the words;

  "If you looked down to the bottom of my soul, you would understand fully the source of my longing and-pity me. Even the open, transparent lake has its unknown depths, which no divers know."

  “This is an excerpt from the writing—the words of Hans Christian Andersen.” Nasani said with excitement.

  “What do they mean? Is it a clue?” Ethan asked.

  “All words are clues.” She answered—still full of intrigue as she held the book.

  Joseph stepped forward. “But do you think it’s a clue to where the relics are hidden? Are they at the bottom of a lake?” He sounded desperate.

  “The words give clue to how Andersen’s own life was full of heartache and misunderstanding. For example, the Little Mermaid longs for—”

  Joseph cut her off. “Nasani, this is interesting and all but if it doesn’t have to do with the relics, I don’t care.”

  I broke in. “I care. I always wondered about that book. For the longest time I thought it was my grandmothers but she didn’t know where it came from. I forgot all about it. I love that it’s The Little Mermaid—even if it’s not a clue to the relics, it might be a clue to my hidden life. The hand that wrote that was not my fathers, it is too delicate—maybe it was my mother’s.”

  But Nasani’s enthusiasm had already been extinguished. She placed the book on the fireplace mantle without saying another word then folded her arms across her chest; turning her back to Joseph. His one-track mind was disheartening and I found that even though I noticed a discrepancy in my surroundings, I did not make it known.

  I discreetly moved near Nasani. Ethan and Joseph continued perusing the bookshelf. The photo that belonged in my father’s bedroom had been placed on the mantle—not by me. It was the second indication that someone had been in my house while I was away. Holding the snapshot, I examined it. I was 7-years-old. I sat on my father’s lap as we rode the Northeast Harbor ferry to Great Cranberry Island. In the background a house on the shore of the island was visible.

  Nasani had left my side and wandered the house. I heard her in the kitchen; then in the dining room and finally I heard the hardwood floor creak as she climbed the stairs. Joseph stood upright and ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling.

  Battling with both my conscious for hiding information and fear of an unknown intruder, I reluctantly came clean. “This right here—it doesn’t belong. It usually sits upstairs on my father’s shelf. I didn’t move it.”

  “Creepy!” Ethan exclaimed.

  “T
hat is a problem. Are you certain you didn’t move it?” Joseph asked.

  “There is no doubt in my mind. Also, when I went upstairs to get towels earlier, my father’s bedroom door was open. Usually, I keep it closed.”

  Nasani screamed from upstairs and a then we heard a big thump. She continued to scream as the three of us raced up the stairs. Joseph and Ethan pushed in front, nearly knocking me down. I watched as they elbowed each other in narrow stairwell. Ethan won out and got to Nasani first. She was standing in my father’s bedroom, screaming with her hands over her face. On the floor at her feet, a man with wild gray hair and crooked glasses was unconscious. Lying next to him was my father’s hard cover copy of Mysteries of the Great Submarine Grounds, volume II.

  “That’s two for two, Nasani.” Ethan teased. “Although, I think this poor guy got it worse than I did—the knot on his forehead is already taking over his face.”

  “Who is he?” I asked.

  The four of us stood over him.

  “I don’t know.” Nasani and Ethan answered at the same time.

  “I do.” Joseph said, his voice uneasy. “Let me introduce you to Orin Bindolestiv, the originator of the shroud.”

  “Oh.” I said, tilting my head in pity. I could almost make out the word ‘Great’ in the red blotch across his forehead.

  “Is that supposed to mean something?” Ethan said irritated. “He broke into Phin’s house. The guy deserved what was coming to him. Great work Nasani.”

  “Thanks,” She said reluctantly, “I think I should try to fix him up now though.”

  “Good idea,” Joseph agreed, “he may have come here to tell Seraphin something important. He’s not a threat, which is why I didn’t pick up on him when we first got here. Nasani, can you bring him to a conscious state so we can find out why he’s come?”

  The three of us waited for her answer but she just stared at the old man.

  “Nasani?” Joseph moved next to her, his voice was low. “What is bothering you?”

  She whispered back, her voice was barely audible. “Something about this feels off, you know? I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  Ethan and I stepped closer to eavesdrop.

  “You have no reason to doubt your abilities—Seraphin is standing here because of you. Ethan too.” He assured her.

  “I do not doubt my abilities Joseph.” Her voice was much louder. “Just go. I’ll figure it out.”

  “You want me to leave?” He was obviously taken aback.

  She didn’t look at Joseph when she gave her answer. “I want you to leave.”

  “But what if you need me?”

  “I won’t,” she snapped.

  “Ethan, Seraphin let’s go. Apparently, she doesn’t need us.” Joseph snapped back.

  Ethan paused. “I—well, I don’t like the idea of leaving Nasani alone with this guy. What if he wakes up in a bad mood?”

  “I can take care of myself.” Nasani eyes met Ethan’s.

  Without hesitation he moved close to her and repeated himself. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone with a guy who just broke into a house. It’s not that I doubt your ability to take care of yourself. Obviously, you’ve managed to knock him out with no help and I’m certain you could do it again. But what kind of man would I be if I knowingly left a young lady alone with the complete stranger she just finished attacking?”

  At first she seemed at a loss for words as they stood just inches away from one another. When she finally did respond, her voice was softer. “That would be nice if you stayed.” Joseph’s head whipped around in disbelief. I put my hand on his shoulder and began to move towards the door. His feet were firmly planted on the ground and my efforts went unnoticed.

  Finally, Joseph muttered something under his breath and turned to leave.

  I began to follow until I remembered the poem on my father wrote. I stepped over Orin—excusing myself to the unconscious man. To my horror, the paper was not where I left it. Frantically, I searched the floor. It was nowhere to be found.

  “What are you looking for?” Joseph asked, realizing I was no longer behind him.

  “The poem,” I started to panic.

  Nasani and Ethan ignored me, both of them working to arrange Orin into a more comfortable position. Ethan grabbed pillows off of my father’s bed, placing them between the floor and the man’s head.

  Joseph stepped over Orin, willing to help. “What does it look like?”

  “It’s a small folded piece of paper.”

  “What’s on it?”

  “A poem that my father wrote—I think to me.”

  “Is this it?” Ethan was kneeling over Orin, holding my father’s poem in his hand. “This guy apparently likes poetry too.”

  I practically dove over Joseph to get it—snapping it out of Ethan’s hand.

  “Sheesh!” Ethan exclaimed.

  “If you don’t mind, I need some quiet so I can concentrate.” Nasani kneeled at Orin’s head behind the pillows.

  “That means leave.” Ethan translated.

  Joseph and I shared a look and then casually stepped back over the unconscious man and into the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind us.

  “They are shaping up to be quite the team.” I laughed.

  “Does that bother you?” He suspiciously asked.

  “No. Does it bother you?” Nasani made clear her feelings towards Joseph; however, I wondered if he felt more for her.

  He shrugged.

  I pressed further. “I think Ethan has a thing for her. He’s a good guy. Nasani is lucky to have his attention. Don’t you think?”

  Again, he shrugged—obviously bothered.

  “You are jealous,” stating my observations. I knew it was a bold move.

  He laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Sure.” Going past him, I gave a sarcastic smile. “Ridiculous.”

  “It’s not jealousy. It’s—just that—forget it, you won’t understand,” frustrated he sat on the first step with his elbows on his knees.

  “Really? Why don’t you try me?” I turned, already halfway down the stairs.

  Speaking to his knees; he began explaining his feelings. “Nasani is my friend—my best friend. We’ve been together since we were just kids—she’s always been a part of my life.” He swallowed hard and lifted his head to meet my eyes. They were sad.

  I remained quiet—terrified of what he might reveal.

  “I love Nasani—”

  I cut him off. “You know what; I don’t need to hear this. There is no need to explain.”

  He put his head back down; his hands went into his thick messy hair. “I want you to know.”

  I swallowed hard. If Joseph was in love with her—I already knew that she did not share the feeling.

  He went on to explain. “We love each other as families do. I protect her and she protects me.”

  Relief filled me. I didn’t want Joseph to be in love with Nasani. Though, I wasn’t sure I wanted him to be in love with me either. “I know that much Joseph. It’s obvious that you care deeply for each other.”

  “I don’t know if Nasani told you about Joshua,” saying with a sigh.

  “She told me that he was her love.”

  “They were more than in love Seraphin. She tried to end her own life when he died. After his death she slipped into a deep depression—she mourned Joshua and the life they were supposed to share.”

  Suddenly, Romeo and Juliet seemed more emotionally unstable than romantic. I said nothing and he continued.

  “Right now, her life is one of seclusion and heartache. When I fled and she came, she left everyone behind—the only person she stays in contact with is her father. So many times I had wished for her to go back but she’s stubborn and will not. Anger keeps her up at night for what they did to my brother. Her way of punishing them is to stay away and no longer bless them with her gift of healing. You were the first person she healed since—” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Since the
day she could not save Joshua.”

  Learning that she tried to save Joshua but failed broke my heart. I wondered if Joseph had tried as well.

  He answered my silent question. “When Joshua was dying, I didn’t know how to heal. It wasn’t until after that I asked Nasani to teach me. Usually it’s passed only through blood relatives; but I was able to learn.” Tears filled his eyes and he looked away.

  “Why does it bother you that Ethan is in there?”

  He gave a sad laugh, and then let out a deep sigh. “It’s hard to see her sweet on someone other than Joshua—Ethan might be his replacement. He might be the person she spends the rest of her life with.”

  “Wow. Maybe I’m wrong but Ethan probably isn’t ready to propose.” I let out a giggle—an attempt at lightening the mood. It didn’t work. “I mean, he’s still in high school. That kind of thinking is sure to scare a guy off.”

  “Not all men are scared off by commitment.” Again, our eyes met.

  Butterflies would have flown from my stomach and out of my mouth had it been open. I swallowed, just too be certain they stayed down. Did he mean that he was ready for a commitment? Did he know that I knew about the Legend? I needed to be clear with him. “I suppose that can go both ways.”

  “What do you mean?” He seemed confused.

  “The stereotype is that while all women want a solid commitment from their man, men tend to avoid one like the plague. I just mean that it’s possible for a woman to be equally as terrified when it comes to promising the rest of her life to a man.” I thought that was clear enough. Hopefully he’s caught on.

  “That never occurred to me.” He was genuine with his response.

  Fresh air sounded good. Before I realized it, I had begun down the stairs.

  “And you Seraphin…” He spoke confidently, getting to his feet and following me. “What are your thoughts on marriage?”

  “It’s not something I think about. It never has been.” Besides, I had no father to walk me down the aisle. The thought of it made me not only uncomfortable but sad as well.

  He questioned me, “Never?”

  I reassured him as I reached the bottom of the stairs that I never purposefully thought about marriage and headed for the front door—I needed fresh air. My fingers fumbled with the lock. As the door opened his hand came from behind—pushing it closed. I held on to the knob, keeping my back to him. Escape was the only thing I could think of.