Memoir of a Mermaid: When, At Last, He Found Me
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Copyright text and images 2012 by Adrienne Stepaniak
First eBook Edition published by Adrienne Stepaniak: January 2012
ISBN: 978-1-4524-5568-6
For Tyler and Isabel
Let your imagination forever be untamed.
After the summer I had, I’m finding it difficult to receive normality. My mind, heart, and body are so very different compared to when May flowers were first in bloom. The Earth calls to me but I refuse to listen for it is not the wandering life that I desire. Roots strong enough to hold when the tide pounds the land are the things I seek.
I write, not to document but rather to be convinced of the impossible net reality has tangled me in.
-S.O.S
ONE
A feeling of awareness is the only way to describe it. When my head clears from all the daily nothingness and for a moment I know. I know. I KNOW—that I exist and that one day I will no longer exist; at least not in the flesh. I’m sure most people have similar moments of clarity. It’s the random seconds where life seems real—implausibly existent.
It used to happen only when the thought of death crossed my mind. Then, it started happening more frequently. When I became angry or upset—overwhelmed or confused; my mind would turn off. It literally went into total shutdown mode. Calling it an inconvenience was putting it lightly.
Things didn’t begin to turn around until the day of my high school graduation. I was forcing myself upon the day. Not only did I want it to be over, I wanted it to be different. And in many ways it was.
The temperature was a scorching 98 with 70% humidity, which was unseasonably hot for Maine in June—a side effect of global warming, no doubt. I regretted, almost immediately, wearing my hair down. It is thick and to make matters worse, it’s dark brown. I was sweltering.
As I stood in line waiting behind the students with last names beginning A thru S—I grew anxious. Stress filled my thoughts when I caught a glimpse of the onlookers. A fast wind whipped through the football stadium. A few students lost their caps to its strength. I gripped the brim of mine. The wind was out of place but I didn’t notice, I was too focused on what was about to occur. I began to silently panic.
The moment of awareness washed over me. I tried to ground myself to the situation. Everything is fine. Settle down; settle down; settle down. I repeated the words in my head; unconvincingly. Nothing was fine. It was the beginning of the rest of my life and I knew naught where it was going.
The beating of my heart was all I could hear. Stars began to cloud my vision and my head grew light. The last thing I wanted to take place that day—in front of all those people—was happening and I could do very little to control it. My consciousness began to fade and I fell.
The blackouts started soon after my father died. Looking back, it all makes perfect sense but at the time, it was simply unbearable. Sadly, these meant more than just waking up humiliated. It was also inevitable that I had to endure the worst day of my life once more. While I was out cold, one scene played like a movie clip in my brain—leaving me clues to a seemingly endless mystery.
The memory was clear; I stood on the beach talking to my friend whose name I don’t even recall. She already knew I was not permitted to go into the ocean but still she dared.
“Leaving information out isn’t lying. Seraphin, if you don’t tell your Dad that you went in the water, how will he know?”
“He said he would know. Besides, I don’t want to go in the water, the waves are too high and the tide is coming in.” This was the same excuse I used a thousand times but the truth was, deep down, I didn’t want to disobey my father’s wishes.
“I’m leaving, my Grandma should be home soon and she’ll be upset with me if she knew I was here.”
“You are so boring.” My friend said.
I watched myself stand up, but instead of climbing the steep hill to my house, I walked towards the ocean. My friends began to cheer when they realized what I was doing. My heart was racing with excitement and so was the water—wave after wave pounded at the sand. The sound of the water was calling.
My foot touched the fresh wet sand and I knew there was no turning back. I was going to deliberately disobey my father. He told me countless times to stay out of the ocean, saying it was too dangerous.
I let the water wash over my toes as it pulled for me to go further. I spoke confidently, trying to hide the fact that I was terrified. “What’s the big deal anyway? I’m ten now and I’m a great swimmer. I should be allowed to have fun.” Then, I did it—I dove into an oncoming wave—with near perfect form, I might add. I felt my body move through the heavy salt water. I remember feeling alive that very moment—all my senses were heightened—I could have stayed under the surface forever but instead I resurfaced. The not-so-great friends cheered at my defiance.
Now, I knew very well that I was going to get in a heap of trouble when my father found out. At the time I thought it lucky that he was out of town that day for work. I thought I had at least 24 more hours of freedom before he grounded me—for the rest of my life. If only that had been the case—I would give anything to hear him holler. Instead, reality played in my unconscious mind.
My faulty friend so graciously reminded me of how much trouble I was going to be in. “You are so gutsy Seraphin. I would never go against your Dad. He’s intimidating.”
“Well, luckily he’s out of town and won’t know.” I said, knowing perfectly well that wasn’t true.
Then, I decided I was going to confess—right then—while I stood waist deep in the Atlantic Ocean. I called out my father’s name. “Samuel Shedd, look at me, I am in the OCEAN!” At the mention of my father’s name, I had a dark feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Then, I could actually hear his panic stricken voice in my head. “Seraphin, get out of the water!”
I knew I had to do what he said. Somehow I knew that both he and I were in danger. I could feel the threat. It was too late though—there was nothing I could do. I tried to swim towards the shore but my body grew heavy and weak. My arms and legs were impossible to move. My friends were shouting and running to the water.
“Seraphin, Seraphin!” They were screaming.
“Seraphin, Seraphin, are you with us?” The Superintendent was staring down at me, along with roughly 1500 people set up in rows of metal folding chairs on the football field. The band had stopped playing Pomp & Circumstance and a baby was crying. A man sneezed which caused a skittish woman in the front row to flinch.
As if that moment was shocking to anyone; I was considered a freak at that school and I had been for eight long years.
Just like always, humiliation was at its peak. I slowly got to my feet, nodding to the Superintendent. It was a small gesture to let him know that my mind had returned to its rightful place, the present. Into the microphone he spoke with a hint of disgust, Seraphin Olivia Shedd.
The football stadium was silent. With a deep breath I crossed the stage to accept my diploma.
Just like my grandmother had planned, an attorney was waiting. He handed over the key to the Shedd family estate. I held up my end of the agreement. Before my Grandma passed away I promised her I would not live alone until school was finished. I may not have known where my life was headed but I knew one thing, after 5 months, I was finally going home.
“Ms. Shedd, it was a pleasure doing business with you and your grandmother.” The attorney shook my hand. “Congratulations.”
It may sound strange that a girl of only 18 wanted nothing more than her family estate but it was true. I didn’t know it at the time—maybe it was subconscious—but that house was more than just a place to hang my hat.
I had been living with the Cottington family. Grandma was my last surviving relative, before she died, she asked Gomer Cottington and his wife Mara to make sure I was taken care of until after graduation. They kept their promise. Gomer was a friend to my father and he was always very welcoming. Unfortunately, he took a job in Detroit and had to relocate soon after I moved in. Sadly, his wife, who felt no obligation to care for me and only harbored resentment, was forced to stay behind on my account.
Mara was anything but pleasant. She had been packing with a firm departure date of that very day. There was no hiding the fact that she was ecstatic to finally be rid of me. It was surprising to not hear her cheering from the bleachers when I crossed the stage. She could barely contain her excitement earlier that morning as I carried my bags out to the car. Although, she probably didn’t want someone to realize she was with me. Those public displays of instability on my part were enough to drive anyone away. Honestly, I can’t say I would lay claim to myself if put in the same situation. Perhaps, I shouldn’t have been so hard on her. Conceivably, under different circumstances, I was somewhat sure she would have been more welcoming.
I still had not made up my mind about the Cottington’s son, Ethan. Mara made it impossible for us to get to know each other. I searched the crowd for him, worried he would leave before I had a chance to say goodbye.
He found me first. “Phin, my Mom wants to make sure you have everything from our house.” Ethan shouted as he ran down the bleachers to where I stood.
“Yes, I have everything in my car. Tell your Mom thanks and have a safe trip.” I leaned in, giving him a hug. It seemed like the right thing to do, but I was wrong. He awkwardly kept his arms down. Immediately, I regretted my demonstration of friendliness. It was the first time I had ever shown him any affection and it was every bit as strange as I thought it would be.
“I told you this morning, I’m finding a way out of this move. I’ll be 18 in December and then I won’t have to live with them.” Ethan, unlike his mother, did not intend on moving away from Maine.
“Your Mom is leaving now. I think you’ve run out of time.”
“Nah, I have to find Ms. Z.” He looked over my head, into the crowd. “I’ll see you around.”
Even though I lived with Ethan, I really didn’t know him. We didn’t hang out with similar crowds. Actually, the truth was, he had friends and I didn’t. The guy was nice enough, but hardly ever around. When he was home, he locked himself in his man-cave of a bedroom and only came out for food. I got the feeling that he didn’t like his parents very much and I couldn’t blame him, his mother was like talking to a raging bull. At school, he was always surrounded by football players and swooning girls. I couldn’t figure out why they swooned over him either. In my opinion, his head was too square and his face was too flat. He looked just like Mara and that drove me away, for obvious reasons.
The field cleared and the student volunteers were almost done folding up the chairs, but for some reason I felt it difficult to leave. I sat on the bleachers playing with my car keys for close to an hour. My 1972 black Ford Gran Torino was shining from far across the parking lot. It was my father’s car and he loved it almost as much as he loved me—and he loved me a lot. When I was a kid he would park in the furthest, most remote parking spot in an attempt to protect it from door dents. It was silly to me but I felt I must do the same since it was all I had of him.
I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I stood a few times but sat back down. I was suddenly scared to go home to an empty house.
Luckily a voice came up behind me. It was the voice of a friend. This was perhaps the only person that seemed to care for me despite my social awkwardness. A smile crossed my face when I heard her speak.
“Congratulations on your graduation Ms. Shedd.” I turned to find Ms. Doreh Zebedee, my biology teacher whom I adored and who everyone lovingly referred to as ‘Ms. Z’. It sounds sad but she was probably my best friend and that’s not saying much because I only saw her at school.
In her arms was a large box overflowing with books. I remembered that Ethan had been looking for her and wondered why, but decided not to bring it up. “Thanks. Can I carry those for you?” I asked.
“Why do you think I came over here? As always, I have motives. I was hoping I could persuade you to help me with some things.” She said with a chuckle and handed me the heavy box of books. She continued to stack additional books from her arms into mine until she was only holding her car keys.
I followed, struggling to keep up. For such a round little woman she was quite fast. Her short legs took two strides to my one and yet, I was still a few steps behind. A bead of sweat ran down my forehead, dripping onto a hardcover copy of Deadly Ocean; An Educator’s Guide to Adventure. I smiled at the thought of Ms. Z battling sharks armed with nothing more than her yardstick.
“What is all this stuff?” I asked.
“You’re not the only one leaving the school this year. I am starting a new job. I have to get everything out of the classroom.” She took the books, tossing them into the back of her already overloaded car.
My heart dropped. The thought of her not being around had not crossed my mind until that very moment and it was upsetting.
“Where is your new job? Nearby I hope.”
She ignored my question and changed the subject, which meant that it was probably not close to Bar Harbor. “What are you still doing here?”
Pausing for a minute to think, I wasn’t sure what to say. “I was just trying to figure some things out.”
“Anything I can help with?” She would have been concerned if she knew I was worried to go home. Clearly, it was a busy day for her. My issues didn’t need to cloud her mind.
“I’m fine. Is there anything left in your classroom or is this the last load?”
“I have more,” She said with a sigh. “Do you have time to stick around this afternoon?”
“Sure,” I followed her into the school since the truth was; I had nothing but time. Earlier, all I wanted to do was go home. When faced with the reality, I found myself avoiding it for as long as possible.
We entered the school through the gymnasium doors, it was empty and our footsteps echoed as we walked across the gym. “We’ll have to cut through the locker room and pool. The floor in the main hall is being polished.”
“Okay,” I said nervously.
We reached the pool door and the smell of water and chlorine filled my nose. The air was humid with the slightest scent of mildew. Ms. Z held the door open and I reluctantly stepped into the room. The heavy metal door slammed behind me and immediately I had to hold back a rush of panic.
Four years earlier was the first and last time I was in that pool. Despite the fact that my 9th grade guidance counselor had been warned about my water phobia, he still put swimming on my schedule. On the first day of swim class, as the rest of the girls gathered, shivering from the cold air and complaining that they were going to get their hair wet, I stood still and silent. Mr. Marsh our swimming instructor ordered everyone into the water. Gripping the edge of the pool tightly, I lowered my body in. At about waist deep, I blacked-out and sank to the bottom. Mr. Marsh had to dive in and save me from drowning. It only took 15 minutes for me to regain consciousness. During that rather short time, he went to my guidance counselor and demanded my schedule be changed. If the counselor had listened in the first place, the whole ordeal could have been avoided.
“You can’t stay terrified of water forever.” Ms. Z was standing across the pool deck, her voice echoed around the room. She knew my history. The school district hired her when I was in the 4th grade, the year my father died.
The water was clear and motionless. The mosaic at the bottom of the pool could be seen in its entirety; the design was created out of green, blue and white tiles. It featured a merman and a mermaid with their backs to each other appearing powerful and confident while battling a sea serpent. Their tails were crossed and their arms outstretched.
“There is no reason for me to go in water, other than to take a shower.” I stepped closer to the pool, focusing on the mosaic. “Who are they?”
“They represent the Guardians of the Sea. Do you believe in the Legends of Merfolk?” Ms. Z asked.
“Do you mean mermen and mermaids?” I laughed a little. “Are you asking if I believe they used to exist?”
“No.”
“Good because I was beginning to—”
She cut me off. “Do you believe they exist in the world we live in today?”
“Of course not,” feeling the water’s pull. “Can we go to your classroom now?”
She ignored my request to leave. “The Legend of the Guardians dates back over 3000 years. They, the ones you see featured in this mosaic were the last Guardians and that was almost 500 years ago. They brought great balance to the waters of the Earth. That balance lasted many years but sadly, due to much pollution and corruption in our world, the waters are no longer a peaceful place for marine life.”
It was the craziest I had ever heard Ms. Z sound. I mean, she was a bit odd most of the time but this was a whole new level. She spoke as if it were all true. Well, I suppose the part about the world being polluted and corrupt was true. Believing in mermaids though, made her sound a bit out of balance.
She continued. “As you can see in the mosaic, the female Guardian is wearing a carcanet around her neck and the male Guardian has a cuff around his wrist. Both of these relics are said to be the most powerful on Earth and serve to enhance the Guardians already incredible gifts. Neither has been seen for centuries. From what my research tells me they are to be handed down from generation to generation in the form of a family heirloom, not taking their true form until new Guardians seek their power.”
Ms. Z was in a trance, staring down at the mosaic intently, I half expected her eyes to start glowing and a prophecy to shoot out of her mouth. I could see the carcanet around the female figure’s neck and the cuff around the male figure’s wrist. The female held the Earth in the palm of her hand. She wore a green seashell bra and her hair was spread out in long blue swirls. The male held the Moon in the palm of his hand and the burst of bright white tiles that surrounded them both seemed to be emanating from his cuff. It was indeed a lovely design but it scared me to be that close to water and I wanted to leave. I began to walk towards the door.
“You know, Ms. Shedd, they say a new Guardian has been born with the Rune of the Sea?”
“No, I didn’t know that,” unsure of the exact meaning of a rune. I answered.
“Yes. If it is so, the first-born must find the second born and when that happens they will cleanse the waters and the land as well. They will protect all those loyal and destroy the enemies. Balance will again be restored.”
I felt like laughing. Was she playing a joke on me? She sounded ridiculous. After a few moments of awkward silence, I tried to move us along. “Okay. Well, Ms. Z, we have a lot of work to do in your classroom, right?”
“Oh yes.” She seemed to snap out of whatever deep thoughts had her captivated. “Let’s get going.”
We left the pool and walked through the empty hall to the biology classroom. She was back to normal as she explained our tasks for the afternoon. “I need to move my salt water tank across the hall and into Mr. Graham’s lab. They’ve been with me for eight years. He had better keep those fish alive until I return.” She had a bit of concern in her voice. Mr. Graham was a chemist, not a biologist. He usually wore a thick black apron and safety goggles. It was difficult to think Ms. Z’s fish would be at the top of his “to-do” list. I reasoned that her job must have been very far if it meant she couldn’t take her fish. Again, it upset me.
“Are you ready to help?” She asked.
“I guess,” I answered.
“There are jars filled with salt water from the tank. I want you to grab one fish at a time and place them into the jars. Then we can drain the water from the tank into buckets, carry it across the hall and fill it back up. These little ones haven’t been moved in 4 years, so we want to be very gentle. I don’t like to use a net to catch them. It’s so cruel. When I move them I use my hands, like this.” She cupped her hands together and lowered them through the surface of the water, not a ripple was made.
The fish swam around her hands, inspecting and tickling with their fins. She giggled. “Not all at once, let’s do this one at a time.”
All but one of the fish backed away, like they heard her command. A black, white and yellow fish with a pointy snout made its way to her hands and waited as if it was in an elevator. She lifted and not a single drop of water fell to the ground. She walked with ease as the fish floated comfortably.
“Let’s go Mr. Moore.” She whispered to him.
“How are you doing that?” I asked. Still no drops of water fell.
“It’s based on trust. He can sense that I mean him no harm.” She held the fish over a jar and with a splash he jumped out of her hands and directly into the water.
“Incredible!” I squealed. “Mr. Moore?”
“Oh now Ms. Shedd, don’t go feeding his ego. I don’t know if calling him ‘Incredible Mr. Moore’ is going to help his already pompous attitude towards the other fish. They are all quite incredible once you get to know them.” She was already loading another passenger into her hands. “Would you like to try?”
“No, I meant what you did was incredible. I mean, Mr. Moore was incredible too but the situation as a whole…well, I don’t think I can do that Ms. Z. I would feel awful if I dropped a fish.”
“Oh nonsense, I think you’ll be fine. Now, bring yourself over here.”
I could already feel my hands sweating. I cupped them together just like she instructed and lowered them into the tank. Ripples spread across the surface of the water and the fish scattered, hiding behind their little ceramic ship wreck and treasure chest.
“Now, give Ms. Shedd a chance. If you get up close, you will find that she is a very good friend.” Ms. Z spoke like the fish could hear her every word and, oddly enough, the fish responded.
The smallest of three clown fish wiggled its way into my hands. I didn’t know how but I understood that it was scared. First it bumped the side of my hand with its tail and then tickled the inside of my finger with its fin. It looked up at me and I glanced over to Ms. Z, she was smiling.
“I would like you to meet Penelope. She is one of the sweetest little clown fish I have ever had the pleasure of caring for.”
“Uh, it’s nice to meet you Penelope,” laughing nervously.
“She likes you. She’s ready to go when you are. Carefully lift her straight up—a little slower. Yes, just like that.” Ms. Z cheered me on with more excitement than I expected.
Penelope felt bizarre in my hands. I could sense a little of her anxiety, or maybe I was imagining it. My hands were cupped and my fingers tight. Very little water dropped and, surprisingly, Penelope knew exactly what to do. She jumped right into a salt water filled mason jar.
We moved the rest of the fish into the jars, one at a time. Then we emptied the water from the tank into several large buckets. Ms. Z talked to the fish like they were her best friends; she explained each one of their personalities in detail.
After we emptied most of the water into the buckets, she and I brought the tank across the hallway into Mr. Graham’s classroom. Together we carried the heavy buckets of salt water, pouring them into the tank. When it came time to return the fish, we put each jar into the water. I found it disappointing that we were not going to carry them by hand back to the tank. She explained that they needed to ease into the water slowly, at their own pace. So we put the jars in and waited. I watched as one at a time, starting with Mr. Moore, the fish swam out of their jars and into the open water of the tank. We sat, studying the fish for a while, giggling as they swam up to the sides of the tank to inspect the new classroom.
That afternoon had been so much fun and for the first time I realized how much I was going to miss school. School, along with Ms. Z, was the only constants in my life and I grew scared thinking about how uncertain my future was.
TWO
“Aunt Doreh, where are you?” A voice came from across the hall.
“I’m in here. You’re a little late.” Ms. Z shouted.
His voice grew louder and more excited before he appeared in the doorway. “You will never believe it, I did a dive on the Southern shore and guess who I—”, a young man walked into Mr. Graham’s room. His shoulders were back, his face held a look of enthusiasm. When he noticed me, all passion drained from his voice. “Uh—I’ll have to tell you about it later.”
I kept my eyes down and twiddled my fingers.
“Seraphin Shedd, I would like you to meet my nephew,” she paused for a moment like she had forgotten his name. “Joseph Merrick.”
“Nice to meet you,” glancing at him. To my horror, he met my eyes. I stared back, waiting for a greeting. His eyes, ice blue, quickly changed to navy. I blinked—questioning the color shift that occurred.
Finally, he looked at Ms. Z and did something quite unexpected—he left the room. Turning the corner into the hallway, he mumbled to himself, “Why would she do that?”
Ms. Z shrugged her shoulders and smiled an unconvincing smile. “He’s a little shy I guess. I’ll be right back. Can you stack the buckets while I’m gone and put the top on the tank? I think we’re about done here.” She walked out and the sound of their footsteps moved further down the hall.
I did what Ms. Z asked then decided it was time to leave. I wrote a short note explaining how much I appreciated her as a teacher and thanked her for the fun afternoon. The thought of not seeing her daily was becoming too much to bear. I knew I had to be careful to not dwell on those emotions though or my mind would go into shut down mode.
Just as I was about to leave, she came back with Joseph and I did my best to dispel signs of weakness. For some reason, I did not want to show any fault in front of him.
He walked into the room with a sour look on his face. I ignored him and went to Ms. Z. “I should be leaving. I left a note for you on your desk.” I was trying my best to avoid Joseph. However he made that difficult by picking up the note I left for Ms. Z and reading it. “That is not for you.” Anger crept its way into my voice, which was surprising.
“Well, I know you must have lots of things to do this afternoon Ms. Shedd, but I would love to buy you lunch. Besides, you can think of it as a small payment for all your hard work today. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Joseph was supposed to help me but he was temporarily detained.” Ms. Z walked over to Joseph and took the note away from him. Not once did she take her attention off of me.
“Oh, that’s alright, you don’t have to repay me. I’m sure I’ll be around, maybe we can do lunch another day?” I was uncomfortable around Joseph; he gave off a weird vibe. I felt as if he hated me from the moment we met, which was only about 12 minutes prior.
“Actually, I won’t be around. My new job is taking me far from the coasts of Maine. Please let me take you to lunch.” She pleaded. My fear of Ms. Z no longer being close was confirmed and I felt my expression fall. Heat surged through my body and I tried desperately to blink back the tears associated.
My eyes met Joseph’s. “Don’t worry, I’m not going,” as if he could read my mind.
“I guess that will be fine then,” relieved. “Should we walk over to the diner?”
“Yes,” she smiled and found her purse. “Joseph, please finish taking those boxes out to my car.”
“Sure.” He sighed.
Ms. Z and I walked to the diner across the street from the high school. The food was never great and I always felt like they had way too many tables for such a little space. The service was always horrible too, but it was close and within walking distance. It was a frequent spot for students to hang out. Ethan and his group of friends were always at the diner; I hardly ever had a reason to eat there.
“Ms. Z, what’s wrong with Joseph? I mean—I don’t know him but—well, I get the feeling he hates me.”
“Joseph is a very sweet young man—”
I cut her off. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You didn’t let me finish. He’s a very sweet young man but he lives a complicated life. It’s hard for him to meet people. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you, once he gets to know you.”
“Oh, I’m not planning on spending much time with him. I mean, I doubt we’ll even see each other again.”
Ms. Z shrugged, “You never know who will end up in your life.”
As we approached the diner a few families were leaving after celebrating with their recent graduates. Some former students stopped to talk to Ms. Z. I didn’t know them, of course. No one said a word to me. I watched as the mother of a girl put her arm around her daughter. The girl reached up and placed her hand on top of her mother’s hand. It was a simple gesture that represented so much. Out of everything missing in my life, sometimes the thing I missed the most is the one thing I never had.
Ms. Z continued talking outside while I went in to get a table. The diner was full of families and if it struck anyone odd that I was alone, no one showed it. There was only one empty booth so I sat in it. The waiter immediately came over to take my drink order but I told him to come back because someone else would be joining me.
About 10 minutes passed before I started to get a little annoyed at how long Ms. Z was taking. After 15 minutes the waiter came back and asked if I knew what time my guest would be arriving. I told him she was standing outside talking. We both looked up when we heard the ding of the diner door but instead of Ms. Z walking in it was a tall thin middle-aged woman with white hair in a braid that hung down past her waist. She was wearing a long black leather jacket and tall black boots. She was as overdressed as she could possibly be considering the temperature that day. We watched as the woman walked around all the tables in the diner and then left. The waiter asked if that was my guest. I shook my head.
I reasoned that Ms. Z might have been stuck in one of those situations where the person wouldn’t stop talking and there was no way to end the conversation politely. I thought about several different ways to get her into the diner. Deciding that if I went outside and politely told her that I had already gotten us a table it might help her out of whatever talk-a-holic had trapped her. So, after 20 minutes of waiting, I went to rescue her. To my surprise, there was no one. I walked around; circling the perimeter of the diner, but Ms. Z was nowhere to be found. I came back inside, thinking that perhaps somehow we had missed each other. I checked both the men’s and the women’s restrooms along with the kitchen and still could not find her.
The white noise of the diner started to sound like the ocean and as I stood in the middle of the room I found myself fighting a blackout. Stay here, I told myself. I rushed out the door. I was still struggling to keep my mind in the present tense when my car pulled up; the roar of the engine shook me. In the driver’s seat was Joseph, Ms. Z’s nephew. He reached across the car and opened the passenger door.
“Get in.” He demanded.
“What is going on?” I stood next to my car, not sure whether to obey or not.
“Just get in.” He looked nervous as he glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Listen, I’m trying to help here. You need to get in the car. I don’t know if they saw you with my aunt or not.” He was yelling and people were coming out of the diner behind me. I got in the car, against my better judgment, because I didn’t want to cause a scene.
For some time, we were both silent, I was afraid to ask what happened to Ms. Z. I can’t explain how I knew; maybe it was because I expect things to go wrong. Something on his face told me that there was a problem. He glanced at me a few times, expecting me to say something but I couldn’t come up with any words.
Finally he spoke. “You can’t go back to the school, so where should I take you?”
“I don’t know you and I’m not exactly fond of you…” I paused, thinking of whether or not I should finish the sentence, “driving my car.”
“This is your car? Lucky guess, huh?”
“Yes it’s my car!” I raised my voice.
“Good, so I’m in no danger of being called a thief…” he paused, “…again.”
I was angry and confused; finally, all I wanted to do was get to my house. “Take me to wherever Ms. Z went, so I can drop you off and go home.”
“I can‘t take you to my aunt. She’s gone.”
“She’s gone? Oh, that makes perfect sense. The woman asks me out to lunch and then leaves. She must have had better plans.” I said sarcastically.
“No. She’s just gone.” He sounded troubled. “This doesn’t concern you. Where do you want me to take you?”
“Doesn’t concern me? You have got to be kidding. One minute I was waiting to have lunch with my teacher, now, all of the sudden she is gone with no explanation. Then you pull up, in my car and tell me that you’re going to drop me off somewhere.” My voice grew louder. “How about you drop me off somewhere between 20 to 30 minutes ago so I can figure out what happened? Oh and you can leave my car and walk back to the present. Does that sound like a plan?”
“Trust me; you don’t want to be a part of this so just tell me where I can bring you. I don’t need your car. I could have just left you at the diner but I thought my aunt would want me to make sure you were okay. I’m trying to be nice here.”
There was a long awkward silence. Joseph pulled over in an empty parking lot, reached under the dashboard and turned the car off. “Can I have your keys?”
I realized that I had been holding my keys the entire time. “Did you hotwire my car?” It occurred to me that I was alone with a complete stranger who knew how to hotwire a car and it scared me a little. I trusted Ms. Z and I didn’t think she would intentionally put me in harms way, but there was something about Joseph that was unsettling.
“I needed to come and get you. Besides, I didn’t know it was your car so, don’t take it personally. It won’t damage anything. I do this all the time.” He said.
“That’s what worries me. Can I just drop you off somewhere instead? Honestly, I’m fine. I just want to get home.” I said nervously.
“I’ll take you home,” he demanded.
“NO,” I refused.
“Really, I should. My aunt would want me to.” He insisted.
Trying to convince him, “You understand that I just met you, right?”
“Yes. You understand that the woman you were about to have lunch with is my aunt and she just disappeared in a matter of minutes, right? You understand that perhaps there is more going on here than you could possibly comprehend, right? You understand that I am trying to get you home safe, right?” His blue eyes pierced me and my body felt numb.
I did understand. I handed him my keys. “My house is at 504 Briarwood Court.”
“Thank you.” He said and started the car.
Joseph knew his way around Bar Harbor. No words were spoken for the remaining 10-minute drive. He kept his eyes on the road while I stared out the window as we passed the familiar neighborhoods. Spring had been generous with rain; the grass was lush and green. When we turned down Briarwood Court my heart skipped. I was terrified but excited. The street was lined with dogwood trees in full bloom; white petals filled the branches that swayed in the summer breeze.
For a moment, nothing else mattered; not Ms. Z or the stranger who was driving. The only thing that mattered was my home, ahead in the distance. I could see the butter-cream yellow, cedar shingles and the large white columns on the front porch. The house was beautiful; an east coast treasure is how my father used to refer to it. For a moment, my grandmother was driving the car and I was beside her. For a moment, my father was driving the car and I was beside him. For a moment I was happy again.
He pulled the car into the driveway of my house—it was weird to think of it as mine, but it was. Grandma left the house to me.
Joseph turned the ignition off and we sat in silence. It didn’t take long for dread to overtake my brief moment of happiness.
My house should have been filled with my family but all of them were gone, all of them were dead.
Joseph was speaking but I couldn’t understand him. The last things I saw were his brilliant sapphire eyes.
I blacked out.
THREE
When I woke, I was lying on my couch. The sun had gone down and only the glow from the streetlight illuminated the living room. A breeze blew from an open window next to my father’s old leather chair. The salty ocean air was refreshing. I was unsure of the time or how long my mind had been in the past. The flashback was more intense—I could hear my father’s voice so clearly that even after I woke; it remained with me.
White sheets covered most of the furnishings in the house. Spiders had begun to make themselves at home with webs that hung from the crown moldings and fireplace sconces. The air was musky and a thin layer of dust lay atop every surface. On the wooden floor, one set of footprints remained in the dust. The prints lead to the couch and back out the front door. Joseph must have carried me in and then left. For the most part I was relieved that I didn’t have to deal with him, but a fraction of me felt sad that I was truly alone.
I went to the back deck for some fresh air then made my way down towards the beach. The hill was overgrown with tall sea grass and the old path I used to run along with my father was buried under years of neglect. The only light was from the half crescent moon in the sky but I didn’t need much more than that, I knew the way. The small patch of beach that belonged to the house was littered with branches and weeds, remnants of a harsh Maine winter. Sharp angles shot through the surface from broken glass bottles and the white shape of a Styrofoam container added a stark contrast against the darker wet sand.
The tide was low. It was something I was used to, something I grew up watching. When I was younger, I was able to predict the high and low tide cycles. Since I wasn’t allowed in the ocean, low tide was my only chance to collect polished sea glass and shells. My charting of the tides proved to be useless once I stopped going down there. Usually the tide would pull further out in the morning and come back in the evening, filling in all the valleys and covering the rock paths that led into the water. That night, all the valleys and rock paths were exposed. It was unusual. I stared at the wet sand. The day my father died the tide was high, higher than usual. As I sat on the beach watching my friends play I remember feeling as though the ocean was closing in, creeping to grab me.
When my grandmother took me to a therapist after he died, I told him about the way the ocean crept up. He gave me a scientific explanation of that day having a Super Perigee Moon, which meant that the moon was closest to the Earth. He said that the tides were higher because of it.
I took off my sandals and wandered onto the fresh wet sand. It was smooth and cool. I could already feel the ocean pulling. That was another thing I told my therapist. Of course, he didn’t believe it but it was true, water pulled at me like an invisible force. He gave me a psychological explanation though, instead of a scientific one. The theory was that I had a fascination with something that had been forbidden. At times, I thought he was the crazy one. I felt it in every inch of my body; the water was trying to pull me in. I resisted the urge.
Staring across the sand, I saw a tiny fin lift and fall. A fish had been stranded on the beach when the tide pulled out. It was something I would see often as a child. Usually I would run to get my father or grandmother, but there was no one to run to that night. It was gasping and dying and needed water, the air was killing it. The fish in Ms. Z’s room came to mind; they were safe, away from the unpredictable ocean. The fish pounded at the sand with its fin, I felt it dying. Hurrying to the fish, I picked it up; its scales were rough and cut into my hands. It was a silver fish with yellow stripes. It needed the water but I froze, unable to go further. The fish lay in my hands, the gills lifting, reaching; I felt her hope vanish when she knew I couldn’t save her. Her eye met mine and I started to scream.
“Help, she’s dying.” I called louder. “HELP, please someone, HELP her.” I knelt down with the little fish in my hands, knowing she could not be saved, realizing that my fear was killing her. “I’m so sorry. I can’t get any closer. I’m so sorry you have to die because of me.”
Then I felt it, the tide began to come in; closer and closer with every wave, it rose. The ocean was answering my call for help but at what cost? Within seconds the water was surrounding, covering my legs; at my waist; up to my chest; then I was under and I felt the little fish swim away. The water was cold and hard against my skin. It pulled at me; deeper and deeper I sank. I screamed out to nothing.
Panic raced through my body, but before I could fall unconscious, my legs lifted from the sand and my head came out of the water. I cried loudly. The sand was hard on the backs of my legs as someone pulled me across the beach to safety.
“Will you stop screaming? You are going to wake up the world.” Joseph Merrick was standing over me, his sandy blonde hair sticking up in every direction. Water dripped from his face and onto his bare chest. He was bent over, squeezing his shorts. Despite looking incredibly annoyed, I couldn’t help but notice how striking he was. “What were you trying to do? It’s a little late for surfing, don’t you think?”
“The tide came up so fast and I didn’t know what to do.” I was panting and embarrassed. My shirt clung to me and my legs were covered with sand. I reached up to smooth my hair, only to find that a large twig was tangled in it.
“I don’t know what’s going on with the tide. I noticed it came up quick too. Though, did swimming ever occur to you? Or how about just standing up? Most people would have stood up and walked out of the water.” He said sarcastically, smiling. Dimples dented his cheeks. “What is with you anyway? You pass out in the car, out cold. Then I find you screaming in the ocean for no good reason.”
“There was a reason.” I said defensively, still trying to untangle the twig from my long knotted hair. “There was a dying fish. It needed my help.”
“A dying fish? That’s it? That’s what all the screaming was about?” He chuckled, and then with a big sigh plopped down onto the sand next to me. He playfully spread himself out as if he were making snow angels. “SO WHAT! Let it die next time and eat it for dinner. Isn’t that what your kind does?”
Not understanding what he meant, “My kind?”
“Carnivores,” his eyes were wide. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought something had happened to you.”
He was wrong. “I’m a vegetarian, so eating her was out of the question. And, something did happen to me. I am deathly afraid of water because of something that happened to me as a child. Please don‘t mock me.” I was irritated with his teasing and even though he had quite possibly saved my life, I wasn‘t at all flattered by his concern for my safety. “What are you still doing here?”
“I’m still here because, against my better judgment, I wasn’t going to leave a helpless young lady passed out in her driveway.” He had a smirk across his face. “Usually when a hero rescues a damsel in distress, he gets a thank you. Next time you’re having a panic attack in 4 feet of water, I will be sure to just let you drown.”
I stood, brushing the wet sand from my legs. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you with my helplessness.”
Joseph continued lying on the sand. “Hey, apology accepted. Don’t you worry about it; I won’t waste another minute helping someone so ungrateful. As a matter of fact, I can’t fathom why my aunt wasted so much time on you.” He mumbled, just barely loud enough for me to hear.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I had started to walk back to the hill but stopped and turned around. His words cut through me.
“It means, her time would have been better spent, elsewhere. For some reason she wanted to be at that school, with you.” He sat up, staring at the water.
Maybe it stung because it was the truth? Ms. Z did spend an inordinate amount of time with me and maybe I took advantage of it. I went to her with every concern or complaint I had and she was always willing to give me her full attention. She never mentioned Joseph and conceivably that had something to do with our one-sided conversations. I knew very little about her and up until that moment didn’t seem to mind. Suddenly, I wanted to know everything about her.
“Speaking of Ms. Z, shouldn’t you be looking for her? Or maybe reporting her lost? Perhaps your time could be better spent?” My words were rude.
“I’m sure it could, besides, she’s not lost. I know exactly where she is. I just don’t know how to get to her.” He put his head down, resting his forehead on his knees. His voice was distant and softer when he spoke again. “You know Seraphin; you’re not the only one in this world with problems. Most people I know have something in their past that haunts them, that makes them want to forget who they are. But they move on, they keep going so it won’t catch up to them and overwhelm their every waking moment, like it seems to do with you.”
“I know people have problems—I mean I don’t let…it’s not like that at all.” My fists tightened.
“I’m just stating my observations. Maybe you’re not like that but it sure seems like you’ve got something deep that you’re not willing to let go of. I’m no shrink but I have spent plenty of time with troubled people to know when I’m in the presence of one.” Lifting his head and clenching his jaw—a stern look crossed his face.
The temperature dropped and the wind began to blow in from the water. Wet hair lifted gently off my shoulders—caught in the passing gusts.
I was speechless—which was a good thing because if I spoke my voice would have fractured with pain. How could someone I barely know cut me so profoundly with words? Joseph was angry, but at who? It couldn’t have been at me, we had just met.
He rose turning his back to me.
My head wanted to argue but my heart was too tired. Struggling to maintain composure, I chose my words carefully. “You’re right, it consumes me. Grief wraps itself around me so tight at times I can’t breathe. How does it feel to be right? Do you feel better about the way you hide from your problems?” I knew it was bold and as I said it I felt a swell of adrenaline climb.
His response didn’t matter, so I didn’t wait for it. I decided that I needed no help feeling miserable. The reason I let Ms. Z into my life was because she never once made me feel the way that perfect stranger had. There are plenty of people that can make me suffer, I lived with one for 5 months. Mara Cottington was ruthless in her opinion but I knew she was hurting so I accepted it. Joseph was doing the same but he was a stranger and I only owed him a few words.
“Thank you for helping me.” I whispered, walking away and I meant it.
He started to speak but I continued up the hill, I didn’t want to know what he was saying. I was through with that conversation.
FOUR
I sat on the back deck with a cup of warm tea. Part of me expected to see Joseph still lying on the beach. I replayed our conversation in my head and was grateful to have remained conscious despite my building anger.
He was complicated, Ms. Z had been correct.
My stomach was growling. I hadn’t eaten anything in almost 24 hours. Luckily, Keyes Market was only a few blocks down the street. The morning was beautiful and inviting. My bike was in the shed. The tires were deflated so I inflated them with the foot pump. I secured a basket to the handlebars for carrying groceries. As I passed through the ivy arch that separated my front walk from the back yard the sun seemed to shine brighter and the noise from the neighborhood’s bustling occupants was more intense. It was energizing to be home.
The market was busy and filled with familiar faces. When I walked in Alexander Keyes, the owner of the store, yelled down an aisle. “Seraphin, my dear! Is that really you?”
“Mr. Keyes, it’s nice to be back in the neighborhood.” And it was. I missed being home and if I had to be somewhere without my family, I suppose that was better than most. I loaded my arms with as much as the basket on my bike could carry. The checkout line was long and as I waited a few neighbors smiled, waved and welcomed me back home. Mr. Keyes stood beside me, talking for the duration of the wait.
“The store is celebrating its 20th anniversary in August. We’re having an Anniversary Gala at the Beach Club and I’d love for you to come.” He was a friendly man who wore a white apron over a yellow Keyes Market t-shirt; the same outfit he’d been wearing for 20 years. “Shall I put you down for one or two?”
I questioned, “One or two, what?”
“Surely you’ll want to bring a date; there will be dinner and dancing,” he moved his shoulders to imaginary music.
“Just one,” I assured him.
“I’ll mark you down for two, just in case. A lovely young lady like you will surely find a nice gentleman in the next few months.” He smiled and nudged me with his elbow.
I didn’t argue further. At the mention of ‘a nice gentleman’, Joseph entered my thoughts but I quickly dismissed the idea.
“What do you have planned for the summer?” He asked.
“I’m not too sure. I just graduated yesterday but I am probably going to have to pick up a summer job and then maybe think about college in the fall.” I said.
“You can’t be old enough to graduate already, I remember you as a toddler coming in here with Sam. He would have bought you the whole candy stand if he had enough money in his wallet.” At the mention of my father I felt sad. I dropped my eyes, hoping Mr. Keyes couldn’t read my expression but it was too late, he caught on. He put his arm around me. “Seraphin, I miss him too. Your father was a wonderful man and it’s alright to remember him that way. It’s healthy to talk about him once in a while.”