The Turning Tides (Marina's Tales)

by Anderson, Derrolyn

  I gasped, “Fatima?”

  “You can call me Rosa,” she said. She didn’t roll her r’s at all.

  It was her large black eyes that gave her away, for they were exactly the same, but her hair was down and loose, and without the elaborate costume and dim lighting she could pass as your average suburban housewife. In the bright light of day, without the incense and candles, she didn’t seem forbidding at all.

  “So it’s all an act?”

  “No.” She regarded me solemnly with her large familiar eyes, “I was born with a veil over my face. I have the gift.”

  “What?”

  “I come from a long line of Sicilian women, women born with the second sight. My mother had it, and my grandmother before her.”

  “So why all the smoke and mirrors then?”

  “Some people need the razzle dazzle,” she explained, twirling her wrist in the air. “But I think you know better than to judge a book by its cover. Things are not always what they appear to be.”

  I nodded, “That’s for sure.”

  “I didn’t call you here for a reading,” she explained, “It’s– it’s just too hard. The forces surrounding you are powerful… and dangerous. I was reading for Evie last week and I kept seeing you instead. I called you here to warn you”

  “Warn me about what?”

  “The evil eye is upon you.”

  I raised my eyebrows, “Evil eye?”

  “Il malo occhio– envy and greed. Someone wants something that you possess.” She drew a deep breath, “Two enemies are closing in on you. One man and one woman… They will both prey on the weakness of the ones you love. One is in your very own house… the other, even more dangerous, is under Evelyn’s protection.”

  “Why didn’t you warn her?” I asked in alarm.

  She frowned, “She is blinded by the faith she has in another. So you see… I couldn’t very well have her deliver this message.”

  “What should I do?” I asked her.

  “That,” she sighed, “I cannot tell you.” She rose, signaling she had said all she had to say.

  I stood, holding out my hand, “Thanks for the warning.”

  She took it with a squeeze, “You be careful. Your aunt Evie worries about you more than you can imagine.”

  “I know,” I forced a smile, “Thank you... Rosa.”

  She nodded, escorting me back out the front door. I took a deep breath and stepped outside.

  “Marina–”

  I turned back, “Yes?”

  “You must learn to have faith in what you cannot see.”

  “Uh… okay,” I replied, not sure what she meant by that.

  When I slipped behind the wheel I found Evie powdering her nose with a jeweled compact, “Did she tell you anything new?”

  “Oh, it was very enlightening,” I kept my face expressionless.

  To Evie’s credit, she refrained from asking me. “Good,” she smiled, “Now let’s go get you some boots.”

  The rest of the day sped by in a blur, and I found myself preoccupied with the fortune teller’s words. Yuri was under Evie’s protection, and Doctor Permala was under my own roof… But what were they after? I shuddered when I thought of Yuri’s dark eyes.

  After trailing around behind Evie for the day I was tired, and when I finally got home Dad was asleep, his face more peaceful than I’d seen it in a long time. Doctor Permala was mixing up some kind of concoction at the kitchen counter, grinding something into a paste with a stone pestle. She looked up and gestured for me to be quiet, pointing to my father.

  I approached her, peering across the counter. The air smelled of ginger and licorice, and I recognized some fresh spears of Aloe Vera on a plate. “What are you making?” I whispered.

  She looked to my father nervously, “I’m making some healing tonics and salves.”

  I frowned, “Did you learn that in medical school?”

  “No.” She spoke softly, “I learnt it from my Grandmother.”

  “Oh,” I raised my eyebrows at her, looking over her ingredients. Abby would certainly love this, I thought. I retreated to my room and reached for the phone.

  “Ethan?”

  “How’s your dad doing?” he asked.

  I told him how Evie’s doctor had taken over the house, and how she had officiously denied him coffee. “Can you believe that?” I asked indignantly.

  “What kind of monster is she?” he teased me. “I think you need to come home right away. I’ll make you all the coffee you can drink.”

  “Tempting,” I smiled. “I miss you.”

  “Then come home now,” his voice was husky, pleading.

  “Can you come up tomorrow?”

  “I can come up right this minute,” he said.

  “To meet my dad,” I added.

  He paused, “Do you think he’s up to it?”

  “I think so.”

  “What if he doesn’t like me?” he asked.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” I said firmly. I meant it.

  “I hope so,” his voice was faint.

  “So we’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

  “No horses here… But isn’t that, drag me away?”

  “What?”

  “Nevermind.”

  ~

  Chapter Six

  CHINATOWN

  ~

  “No. Absolutely not.” Doctor Permala was adamant.

  “If he feels up to it, I don’t see the problem. We’ll be careful.” I waved my hand dismissively. She was micro-managing every little detail about my father, and it was really starting to get on my nerves

  The doctor had walked in and gasped with horror to see me helping my father as he struggled to get up from his hospital bed. Ethan was on the way over for dinner, and dad proudly insisted that he be seated at the table, not lying down like an invalid.

  Amrita Permala pulled herself up to her full height, and addressed my father with fiery eyes, “Professor Vanderpool, if I’m going to be working with you, I insist that you follow my instructions to the letter!”

  He looked startled, but then nodded a bit sheepishly. He lay back down with a sigh of relief.

  “I don’t really see how sitting in a chair is going to interfere with his recovery!” I protested.

  “Marina,” my father stopped me with his hand on my arm, “She’s right… It’s just my foolish vanity.”

  Doctor Permala looked relieved, rushing to his side to reposition his arm. She met my eyes, “His diet has been arranged in advance. Evelyn’s chef is preparing him special Ayvedric meals that will cleanse his body of toxins and facilitate the healing process.”

  Great, I thought. If it involved some kind of non-western medical theory it figured that Evie had a hand in it. She never met an alternative therapy she didn’t like.

  “I was going to order Thai from our favorite place.”

  Dad looked thoughtful, “I’ve always wanted to know more about traditional Indian medicine. Might as well give it a chance.”

  I rolled my eyes and snorted with frustration. I had been waiting a whole year for my father to meet Ethan, and now this officious doctor was dictating what we could have for dinner! There was a knock on the door and I opened it to find Paul, blocking the path of an aggravated looking Ethan.

  “Were you expecting him?” he asked, pointing his thumb backwards.

  “Yes! Didn’t Boris tell you?” I squeezed past him to throw my arms around Ethan. He hugged me back and I clung to him with relief. When I looked up Paul was gone.

  “Come on,” I took his hand and led him inside. I could feel how nervous he was as we approached my father. Dad had raised his bed to its highest position, and sat as far up as he could.

  “Dad, this is Ethan,” I said with a smile.

  Ethan offered his hand, and my dad struggled to lift his right arm to no avail. Realizing his mistake, Ethan switched to his left, looking mortified.

&nb
sp; My father shook Ethan’s hand with grave dignity, “I understand I owe you a debt of gratitude. Marina tells me you’ve been a great help to her through all of the… over the past year.”

  “I did what I could,” he said earnestly, adding, “I’d do anything for her.”

  My father regarded him for a moment, and then smiled wryly, “So, your father is my new brother in law? And your sister is my new baby niece?”

  Ethan actually blushed, stammering, “Ye-yes. I was there yesterday, and they’re looking forward to visiting when you’re feeling up to it.”

  Dad laughed, running his good hand through his hair, “A whole lot can change in one year.”

  Ethan and I exchanged a glance.

  “Dad,” I said, “We have some news.”

  Ethan squeezed my hand, turning towards me, “Can you give us a minute alone?” I was a little surprised he didn’t want me there, and I looked back and forth between the two of them. They seemed to be waiting for me to go.

  “I’ll be in my old studio,” I said.

  I walked into the rehab room, looking over all of the fancy new equipment again. The two most important men in my life had finally met, and I was nervous about leaving them alone together. Ethan knew much more about what had been going on over the past year than Dad did, and while I was sure he’d never intentionally say anything to upset my father, not being in the room with them made me uneasy.

  Doctor Permala bustled in, and seeing me pacing by the window she turned on her heel sharply and left the room. I didn’t trust her. I sighed, looking out the picture window at the sun slowly sinking towards the sea. I suppose I was most afraid that my father would still see me as a little girl, and refuse to accept my engagement to Ethan.

  Staring out into the infinite sea reminded me of my sisters, and I squeezed my eyes shut in a vain attempt to put my worries about them out of my mind. The mermaids were probably ready for a refresher course; I needed to check on them, and I decided to find a surf-shop in the city first thing in the morning. When I opened my eyes the whitecaps seemed to wink at me, and I suddenly missed surfing with a savage rush of longing. I felt like I was floating away, lost in a saltwater daydream so powerful I could taste it.

  Ethan came up behind me, slipping his arms around my waist. He dropped his chin to my shoulder and kissed my ear, “I like your dad.”

  I turned around, and he studied me with concern, “Marina?”

  I blinked a few times, and looked into his eyes, lunging for his lips. We kissed, and I inhaled in his scent, back on shore again. He pulled me close to him and burrowed his face into my hair, breathing in.

  “Did you tell him?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I kissed him again with even more intensity, and he pulled back a little, taking me by the shoulders. “Hey… Don’t get me started.”

  He looked around at the room, impressed at the transformation, finally taking my hand and leading me back out to my father’s bedside. Dad looked pale and tired, and I was all at once ashamed at myself for getting so caught up in my own drama.

  “Are you feeling alright?” I asked.

  “I’m fine – I’m just surprised… So you want to get married.”

  I nodded decisively, “Yes, as soon as I turn eighteen.”

  He sighed, “You two are both so young! Have you given any thought about what you’re getting yourselves into? Are you sure?”

  I looked at Ethan, thinking about everything we’d been through so far. If it wasn’t for him I’d be lost, in more ways than one. I loved him more than life itself.

  “I’m positive.”

  My father smiled wanly, his head flopping back onto his pillow. Doctor Permala came in and surveyed the scene with disapproval. She hurried to his side and checked his dressings, giving a cursory nod Ethan’s way.

  “Ethan Carlson, allow me to introduce Doctor Amrita Permala,” Dad said ceremoniously. He seemed to have already figured out that she was a stickler for formality. She glanced up at my father, as if to gauge whether or not she was being teased, and shook Ethan’s hand with her eyes locked onto Dad’s drawn face.

  “Pleased to meet you,” she said in a lilting Indian accent.

  She went back to her bossy manner, announcing, “Professor Vanderpool, you must eat and get some rest immediately. I’ll have your meal prepared straight away.” She hurried off.

  “I was going to order Thai,” I told Ethan, “But the doctor won’t let him eat any decent food.”

  “Now Marina,” Dad slumped back down. “She takes her work very seriously. Show her some respect.”

  “She seems on top of things,” Ethan said, looking around the house.

  “Go out to eat,” Dad said, pain etching lines around his eyes, “There’s no point in you two hanging around a sickroom all night.”

  “But Dad,” I was disappointed. “I wanted you two to get to know each other.”

  “We have all our lives,” Ethan pointed out, nudging me. I think he noticed how weak my father looked, and he reached over to shake his good hand again, “It was nice to meet you, sir.”

  “Call me Martin,” Dad replied.

  I kissed my father goodbye and reluctantly left the apartment. “How about Chinese?” I asked Ethan when we got into the elevator.

  “Anything you want,” he said, wrapping his warm arms around me.

  We got out in the basement garage, and Paul was waiting at the elevator. He smiled at me, looking Ethan over with hooded eyes. I felt Ethan tense by my side, and I clutched his hand a little tighter. I knew he was jealous of the time Paul and I spent together training, not to mention in Germany. To his credit, he tried not to complain; after everything that had happened with Amber, I could certainly understood how irrational jealousy might make a person.

  “Do you need a driver?” Paul asked.

  “No thanks,” I said, hooking my arm around Ethan’s.

  The sun was sinking slowly over the bay when we stepped out into the street. I hailed a taxi, deciding it was best not to hassle with trying to park on the busy Chinatown streets.

  “Take us to the Dragon Gate,” I told the driver.

  We climbed out of the cab under the green tiled roof, joining the hordes of tourists and merchants that crowded the streets. Glowing streetlamps lit the busy scene, and it smelled like food cooking. It was a brisk San Francisco night, and we walked arm in arm, taking in the sights and sounds coming from all the shops and restaurants that lined the streets.

  “I’ve never been here before,” Ethan said, looking all around with a smile.

  “I’ll give you the tour,” I told him, leading the way down the sidewalk with my fingers twined in his. Colorful paper lanterns illuminated the faces we passed, and the air was filled with the roar of city traffic, interspersed with snatches of Chinese music escaping from the doorways of the various storefronts.

  We stopped in an herb and tea shop that Evie frequented, and the elderly proprietor recognized me, asking about “Miss Evelyn” with reverence. He pressed various samples into our hands, urging us to sniff all the different scented teas, talking about how they would bolster our “Chi”. I ended up buying a large tin of my favorite Jasmine flower tea, and a set of elaborately decorated porcelain cups to serve it in.

  “For our place,” I said, making Ethan smile.

  We looked over some of the exotic produce displayed under the awnings of a grocery store, and Ethan pointed out and named some of the things that Lue Khang was growing on his farm. We both paused to gawk at the smoked ducks hanging by their necks in the window of a butcher shop.

  “What’s in here?” Ethan asked, pulling me through the door to look at the live fish, crabs and turtles displayed in giant tanks that lined the walls. The smell of the animals and the bubbling of the aquariums made me lightheaded; a frog clawed at the glass of the tank in a futile attempt to escape. My breath caught in my throat, and I found myself staring, transfixed, imagining how terrified it must be.

  I stood fr
ozen to the spot, finally snapping out of it when a worker dropped a metal tray onto the floor with a loud crash. “Let’s get out of here,” I told Ethan, backing away slowly.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, looking alarmed as I gasped for fresh air out on the street.

  “I’m just a little claustrophobic,” I said with a shudder, “That place would make Abby cry.”

  Ethan laughed and slipped his arm around my waist, “I was over at the house for dinner last night. She’s so happy right now I don’t think anything would make her cry.”

  I smiled up at him, “How’s your little sister doing?”

  Ethan told me about visiting Adria while we walked, and I wished we were both there at that moment, getting ready to tuck in to one of Dutch’s fabulous dinners. I missed being part of Abby’s family, and I missed Aptos.

  “Are you getting hungry?” I asked.

  We walked on, looking into some pagoda-roofed curio shops packed with souvenirs and garishly colored silk dresses. Rows of ginger jars lined the sidewalk, leading up to shelves stocked with fake designer handbags, golden sculptures of Buddha, and all kinds of colorful dragon figurines. I bought my dad a package of his favorite ginger candies, tucking it into my purse.

  We stopped in a dimly lit doorway to kiss, but were broken apart by a woman with three little Chihuahuas in sweaters who brushed past us to get into her apartment. We hurried away down the street, laughing at the way she’d she scolded us under her breath in Chinese.

  “This place has the best dim sum,” I pointed towards the crowd of people lined up outside a brightly lit restaurant. We peeked in the door, and surprisingly, managed to get seated right away. A woman led us on a weaving path through the labyrinthine rooms, gesturing to a small table in the very back. We were so close to the kitchen that the swinging doors jarred our table each time a cart laden with food came bursting out.

  “At least we’ll get first crack at it,” I laughed, and we did.

  Dim sum carts rolled by us every few minutes, loaded with precariously teetering steamer trays. We sipped tea and picked out the best looking dishes, sampling pork buns, shrimp stuffed mushrooms, and Shanghai dumplings with ginger scented pork.