An Ordinary Drowning, Book One of The Mermaid's Pendant

by Neal Reilly, LeAnn

  “I’ll teach you to read it.”

  Tamarind nearly responded that she already knew how to read before something stopped her short; she blinked instead and recalled that Ana had tempted her a long time with the key to human learning.

  “Why should I believe that you’d teach me how to read?”

  “Because it’s the midwife’s book. If you’re gonna take my place one day, you have to be able to read it.”

  Tamarind bit her lower lip. “I haven’t said I’ll take your place.”

  “True.” Ana nodded, the clove cigarette clamped between her first two fingers where it dangled in front of her. “When you do, you’ll find many, many useful recipes and spells. The method for helping a mer put off her tail—and the method for putting it on again—to name a few. Become my apprentice and I’ll show you how to do lots of amazing things.”

  Tamarind continued to turn the pages and to run her fingertips over the contents. On a page two-thirds of the way through the book she squinted at instructions for transforming someone into a temporary copy of another, living or dead. As long as the caster had some item that belonged to the person being copied, something taken from the body, then an elaborate potion could be brewed and distilled that transformed the caster for one turn of the day. She frowned.

  “Tell me, young one. Where is it your father thinks you’ve been all this time?”

  Tamarind’s frown deepened. “I let him think that I went to the Hidden Caves of Camuy for training with the mer elders.”

  “Ah.” Ana rummaged in the small pouch she wore on a long strap around her neck. After a moment, she pulled out another clove cigarette and a small object that glistened in the moonlight. Muttering something that might have been a spell, she raised the disc to one end of the cigarette and sucked on the other until a thin plume of smoke appeared near the disc. “So your father intends for you to be a dragos. He sees the same qualities in you I do. We just don’t have the same ideas about how best to help the mer.”

  She smoked the cigarette in silence while Tamarind continued turning pages in the book. A laughing gull flew over their heads, a dark speck that spiraled around them until it had descended low enough to land on Ana’s shoulder. Tamarind had never seen a bird flying at this time of night before. She watched the bird nuzzle Ana’s cheek and appear to whisper in her ear. When the laughing gull cocked its head and turned a bright eye on Tamarind, she thought it studied her coldly. It again whispered in Ana’s ear and the old woman laughed. Tamarind ignored them and struggled to read more spells in the waning moonlight.

  “What’s he gonna think when he finds out you spent the rainy season with me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do. You just don’t know why he hates humans so much. I do. It’s because of your mother.”

  Tamarind sat up straighter. “What do you know about my mother?”

  “Enough. She was the first mermaid I tried to help put off her tail.”

  “What? What lie are you telling me, old woman?” She’d never spoken to Ana so rudely before; she’d caught a residue of thought from the former mer and responded to its flash of visceral ugliness.

  “No lie.” The gull laughed at them and launched itself into the air above their heads. “Just like you, she mooned about wherever she could see humans: beaches, boats, cays. And, just like you, she fixated on one, a boat captain. And one day, she came to me and asked me to help her put off her tail.”

  “But how did she know you could help her? I didn’t know about you before we met. I certainly didn’t know mer could put off their tails.”

  “Ah, that’s because your father drowned the knowledge among your community. If any remember, he’s forbidden them from sharing it among the others.”

  “But—but Mother was a mermaid! I was very young, it’s true, but I still remember her. If she’d been human, how could she and my father have mated, let alone had six daughters?”

  “Yeah, she was a mermaid when she died.” Ana picked up a clove cigarette. Her lined face seemed to shrivel even more and her eye no longer blazed. “Her tail never came off. I remember the sound she made when I eased her out of the ground. Like a baby seal mewing. Her tail bruised and bloodied, one tip broken and limp—it still haunts me.

  “Something in her mind died that day. Her thoughts frothed and foamed. Your father loved her before she came to me, though she never returned his love. He took her, poor wounded thing, and mated with her. His strength kept her safe for a while and you and your sisters were born. But she couldn’t stay away from humans and kept wandering toward them.”

  Here Ana stopped and sucked on her cigarette so long that Tamarind thought that the story must be done. She was about to ask Ana why she had told her all this about her mother, when Ana began to speak again.

  “I’ve thought about that spell of transforming over and over. I just can’t be sure it wasn’t my fault it failed.”

  Tamarind hesitated a moment. “Is that why Father kept us from knowing about your powers?”

  “No.” Ana looked away. “Putting off the tail has always been dangerous for mer. He didn’t blame me for that. No, he didn’t want any of you to know how to become human because he despises humans.”

  “Because Mother was so fascinated by them?”

  “That’s partly why, young one.” Ana brought her eye to Tamarind’s face with visible effort. “But it has more to do with the fact a human killed her and very nearly killed him, too.”

  Thirteen

  Ana studied the smoking stub between her fingers without meeting Tamarind’s eyes. After it had burned almost to her fingertips, she leaned forward and sunk it into the seawater caressing the stones around their feet. It hissed briefly. She flicked the remains into the tree line behind them. Time to wield the truth like a shark’s tooth.

  “It’s more than ten rainy seasons since I found your father on Luís Peña. Back then I could still swim. Swam over there to look for birds’ eggs. That day, I finished gathering all the eggs I could carry and went up to the beach to look for seaweed. That’s when I came across your father, bleeding his life into the sand.

  “Took all my strength to wrestle him onto his back so I could clean his wound and get a better look. Can’t tell you, young one, how scary that terrible hole in his shoulder was—never seen anything like it! Worse, I never cared for anyone so badly hurt. Whatever had done it was still in him and I had to get it out, and get it out quick. But everything was on Culebra, all my healing salves, all my infusions and tinctures, all my tools—not to mention my book.

  “Fear turned me into rigid coral. I couldn’t act. My thoughts swam. I cried out to Mother Sea but blood pounded in my head. Breath stuck in my throat. Couldn’t hear Her answer. Then I remembered what my teacher had told me: listen to the sound of the waves and breathe with them. I closed my eyes until I had their rhythm, until I became their rhythm.

  “I knew what to do when I opened my eyes. Couldn’t swim over here and back in time, let alone bring everything. Had to bring him around, no matter how dazed he’d be, and then reach into his mind and direct it. Your father has a very strong mind—very strong. I knew it would take everything I had to save him. I reached into my pouch for the eggs, cracked them with my thumb and forefinger like so”—Ana demonstrated with a quick motion of her hand—“and sucked them all down.

  “I entered his mind like a thief and pried my fingers into his wound. He groaned, a horrible sound like the rending of wood in fierce water, and his eyes fluttered. I kept poking until I found it.

  “Couldn’t tell what it was, just that it was very hard and warm—and sharp. It moved a little as I prodded but didn’t come loose. It reached deep into his shoulder. I was so absorbed I forgot your father and kept jiggling it back and forth to dislodge it. While I was busy, he groaned again and then his pain stung me.

  “‘Do you seek to kill me, you who are chosen as healer?’ he asked.

  “‘If I did, oh dragos, first and foremost
among mer, I would’ve left you to die where I found you,’ I answered.

  “I ignored his rigid body and harsh breathing because I sensed he was going to slip away from me. I tightened my grip on his mind instead.

  “Come here, I ordered using mer speech.

  “He fought me. I kept my wits and drew upon the power of the water. He didn’t fight long before I found myself looking through his eyes as well as my own. Pain rolled over me. I vomited and almost let go, but I expected this. Focused on breathing to shut off awareness of that part of his mind. In, out, in, out, in, out—until I felt nothing else.

  “I threw a glamour around us and pushed against the power of the cay. Mother Sea pulled us down quicker than I expected, and saltwater slapped us hard. It stung your father’s wound. I struggled to master both of us. Then, slowly, we moved around Luís Peña and on to Playa Tamarindo. It was excruciating, but I kept breathing and continued to draw strength from Mother Sea.

  “We reached Playa Tamarindo finally. I was nearly beyond my limit. Got your father behind some scrub before I had to let his mind go. Got enough energy back to throw a glamour on him while I was gone. I reached home, clumsy and slow, dizzy and sick to my stomach, but I managed to find my book. Then I filled my pouch with a small knife, a candle and matches, some seaweed and a needle, and tamarind paste.

  “I stumbled back. He was still unconscious and so pale he might have been bleached coral. The blood on his shoulder had congealed into a sticky black mass. I sank down on my knees and dumped my pouch out onto the rocks next to him. My fingers trembled as I lit the candle. Then I held the knife blade in the flame until it glowed. I let it cool a little before I started probing the wound with its tip. Your father didn’t stir or make a sound. Scared me more than anything else. I decided to slice the wound a little deeper and probe some more. This time the object moved! Got the blade’s point under it and managed to pry it up. It was the broken tip of a harpoon.

  “Know what a harpoon looks like?” She didn’t give the stunned mermaid a chance to respond. “I didn’t spend too much time looking at it. I dropped it and heated the end of my needle. Then I threaded some seaweed into it and sewed the wound closed. It bled again, making my fingers sticky and the work hard, but I pressed the heel of my hand against your father’s shoulder until he stopped bleeding. I washed the wound, spread some of the tamarind paste over the stitches, and wrapped some clean rags over it.

  “After that, I collapsed. We must’ve lain there for most of a day and no human found us, thank the Creator. When I woke, I saw your father was also awake. He was in great pain, but he didn’t have a fever. That’s when he told me what happened to your mother.”

  Here Ana reached out and took Tamarind’s hand. Its clammy skin was firm and smooth against her veined and wrinkled one. She ignored the spark of sympathy it engendered and her voice grew gruffer. Time for the climax of her story.

  “Your mother was swimming alone near the cay the humans call Cayo Lobo, away from Culebra and towards the Hidden Caves. She saw a boat there, and not having any shred of sense, swam up to it. Your father had asked your eldest sister to keep watch over her, so as soon as your sister saw what your mother was doing, she called for him. He wasn’t close by because he thought the outer cays safe enough. Didn’t know anything about drug runners.”

  “Drug runners?”

  “Men who sneak around with pills and powders and herbs outlawed by some humans because they’re so powerful and dangerous, for the mind and the body. Drug runners are nothing more than bottom feeders—violent and mad. They saw your mother and dragged her out of the water, probably thinking she was spying on them. When they saw her tail, they dropped her back into the water and started throwing things off the boat at her but she didn’t leave. Your father got there just as one of the drug runners picked up a harpoon. He grabbed your mother and dove underwater, swimming as fast as he could with her to Luís Peña. When he came up, he realized two things: the harpoon had caught him as he dove and your mother was dead. She had a large black hole in her cheek, but he didn’t know how or when it got there.”

  Tamarind pulled her hand from Ana’s grasp, leaned over her legs and dropped her face into the tent of her hands. She didn’t move or say anything as Ana finished her story.

  “Your father hid on Playa Tamarindo until he got strong enough to swim back to a hidden cove on the far side of Luís Peña where your mother’s body lay. He took her to an underwater cave far east of Culebra and entombed her on a ledge under piles of sea rocks and bits of coral. I hadn’t wanted him to swim so far so soon, but I didn’t bother saying anything to him. He came to see me only once afterwards so I could check the scar on his shoulder. I gave him an infusion to help him heal faster and get his strength back.

  “I haven’t seen or spoken to him since.”

  ***

  At the bottom of the service road to Tamarindo Estates, John slowed the Samurai and stopped, his foot resting on the brake while he looked up the hill through the dusty windshield. Finding Tamarind in the tangle of thorn acacia, stunted tamarind trees, and cactuses posed no real difficulty, but still he hesitated. For the first time since he’d found an apartment in San Juan and traveled back to Culebra for long weekends, Tamarind had not waited for him at the ferry dock when he arrived. He drove on to Posada La Diosa where Valerie sat in her kitchen sipping lemonade and crafting wire jewelry for sale at The Mermaid’s Purse. Since he’d left for San Juan, Tamarind sometimes hung out talking with Valerie and learned how to shape and twist wire into jewelry from her. She’d created some unique pieces after only a few lessons that Valerie sold for her in San Juan and as far away as New York, and Valerie helped her spend the money on clothes and hair accessories. Valerie had only the neighborhood stray cat with her today, however.

  “Seen Tamarind?”

  “Nope. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her all week.”

  “Huh.” John set his backpack and travel bag down on the floor next to the table. “It’s not like her to miss the ferry.”

  “Maybe she’s tired of waiting for you, John.” Valerie clipped the end off of a piece of wire and looked up at him.

  John refused to meet her eyes. Instead, he walked to the cabinet where Valerie kept drinking glasses and took one out. He poured some lemonade and sat down.

  “That’s pretty cool.” He pointed to the piece she worked on. “What is it? A pregnant woman?”

  Valerie slipped a long strand of her graying-blond hair behind a delicate ear and picked up her lemonade, which she sipped. “Well, yes, she is. But not just any pregnant woman, John. She’s the Goddess, the Divine Mother, that many cultures worshipped before the Judeo-Christian patriarchy tried to eradicate Her. She’s always shown with a large belly and breasts because She symbolizes fertility, of the mind and spirit as well as the body.”

  “Does something like that sell well?”

  “Oh, I can’t make Her fast enough for the two shops I supply in New York. Chuck’s always telling me I have to return and open my own shop, but I told him he doesn’t get it. I need to be here on Culebra to channel the Goddess. In New York, I only channel lots of cappuccinos while running from meeting to stressful meeting.”

  “You don’t ever look like you get stressed.”

  “Oh, don’t let my serene appearance fool you. I spent a dozen years as an aggressive media buyer in New York. I lived on stress until I realized it was making me sick.”

  “Is Chuck still moving here in September?”

  Valerie sighed and shrugged. “Apparently, he hasn’t quite topped off his retirement funds as he’d like. I keep telling him that he won’t want much once he gets here, but he’s not ready to give up the game yet. Whatever. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She set her lemonade down and returned to the Goddess figure. “I did see Ana, the old woman who sells herbal remedies in town, a couple of days ago. I showed her one of the pieces of jewelry that Tamarind made and she knew somehow that I hadn’t made it. She got
very excited and practically gave me some of her most expensive remedies to buy it. When I asked her if she knew Tamarind, she told me that Tamarind is her apprentice and has been staying with her all summer.”

  “Funny, Tamarind never mentioned her. I thought all this time she lived at home with her father and sisters. Does this Ana live out near Tamarindo Estates?”

  “Yeah, not far west of 251. You can’t really miss it. It’s a one-room cinderblock house with a dirt front porch and a chicken coop out back. The wild horses and laughing gulls really love her and she brews this wicked ale from a mash made from tamarind pods.”

  “Wait a second. Do you mean that scary-looking old woman who sits on the plaza selling herbal remedies?” John frowned. He’d gotten the distinct impression that Tamarind avoided Ana. He knew that he did. “Tamarind’s staying with her and learning her arts?”

  Valerie nodded. “That’s what Ana said anyway. Why don’t you go out there and talk to Tamarind yourself? You look about as forlorn as a puppy sitting in the rain while his owner doesn’t see him from the kitchen window.”

  “Whatever that means.” John stood up and rubbed the stray cat’s head where it lay on the table among Valerie’s jewelry-making supplies. “Don’t worry about me for dinner. I’ll grab something to eat at Isla Encantada.”

  Ten minutes later, he waited at the bottom of the hill leading to Ana’s house in the growing heat of afternoon. Tamarind didn’t magically appear to save him the trip so he slipped the gearshift into drive and eased the gas pedal down. At the top of the hill, he parked the Samurai and walked the rest of the way on foot toward the cinderblock house to which he’d followed Tamarind nightly in June. A few brown hens meandered through the dirt patch beaten in front of the low-gray building, but no one sat in the rusty aluminum chairs outside the front door.