An Ordinary Drowning, Book One of The Mermaid's Pendant (30 page)

Valerie
sipped her coffee and Latin pop filled the silence around them. After a moment,
she spoke as if measuring out each syllable.

“John,
did you happen to hear the phrase
del mar
while you were here this
summer?”

John
scowled and stared at his empty plate. “Yeah, I did. From Tomás and Chris. They
suggested the woman who saved me from drowning back when I first got here was
del
mar
. I thought Tomás was mocking me. And Chris? I just thought Chris had a
lunatic edge.”

Valerie
looked at him, her lips pursed. She tapped the counter with her fingertips and
then sighed noisily. “Look, this will probably sound nuttier to you than your
theory about Tamarind achieving astral projection, but I think Tamarind is a
mermaid.”

John
choked on the swallow of lemonade he’d just attempted. “Wha-at?”

“Okay, I
know you’re a rational, science-type of guy, Johnny, but hear me out. Mermaids
have been a part of the mythology of any number of peoples around the
world—from India, China and Japan to Native America. Maybe there’s some basis
for these myths.”

“Mermaids
are about as real as leviathans.”

Valerie
played with her napkin. “Actually, some scientists have proposed that
leviathans might be a prehistoric ancestor to modern snakes.”

“But
that just means that mermaids are really dolphins or–or manatees. Not some
half-person, half-fish.”

“Once I
read this book. I think it was called
The Aquatic Ape
. Anyway, the
author hypothesized that if marine life crawled out of the primordial oceans
and adapted to land, what’s to say that some of the primates that evolved
didn’t go back into the ocean?”

John
said nothing. He remembered thinking about what motivated sea turtles to split
their time between land and sea. On the face of it, the idea of a primate
heading for the ocean and adapting to it wasn’t so outrageous.

“I
guess.” He laid his hands on the counter and studied them. “But why hasn’t
anyone confirmed this theory? Why are mermaids still just myths? Beyond a
cheesy Tom Hanks movie and kitsch in resort towns, no one has ever seen a
mermaid.”

“That’s
not true. Why do you think the Culebrenses talk about the
gente del mar
?
In fact, many natives of the Caribbean whisper about them. They say they walk
in human form among us, that they protect the sea turtles and reefs, and that
they bring vital sea life to help heal humans. They even say some of the
mer
folk fall in love with humans and leave the sea to be with their chosen loves.

“Besides,
if you were a merman, would you willingly swim up to a human and announce what
you were? If it were me, I’d probably stay as far from shore as I could. But
Tamarind isn’t me, is she?”

“No,
she’s not. So, what do you propose I do? Ask her outright?”

“Sure?
Why not? Can’t be any worse than asking her if her spirit leaves her body
behind and travels to visit you, can it?”

“No, I
guess not.”

“Astral
projection couldn’t work for her anyway. Mermaids don’t have spirits.”

Raimunda sat at the bar
of Isla Encantada watching Tomás
and the bartender, Enrique, nailing plywood over the bar’s windows. She sipped
her Medalla and nibbled on the stale
surullitos
resting on a small
platter near her right hand. Every few moments her eyes slid to the door, which
remained closed despite her vigilance. After a while, she pulled a packet of
cigarette papers from the bag that hung at her waist and a handful of her
special tobacco mix. Sprinkling a pinch onto a paper, she rolled a tapered
tube, licked the edge of the paper, and lit it. As she sucked the sweet, spicy
smoke into her mouth, she heard the door creak behind her.

She kept
her face forward, the hand holding the cigarette propped up on an elbow next to
her on the bar. Her lips curved at the corners. She set the cigarette into the
ashtray next to her and picked up the Medalla.

“
Mi
sirenita
.” Jesus kissed the back of her neck. “Somehow I knew I’d find you
here, when everyone else is working so hard to save themselves.”

She
shrugged. “Why work when I don’t have to?”

He sat
on the barstool next to her. “Ah, yes,
mi alma dulce
. You live in a
cave, don’t you?”

“Always
trying to find out where I live,
mi guapetón
? Let’s just say that my
home
es
inexpugnable
.
Comprende
?”

“Well,
not every woman is as
agradable
as you,
mi reina
. Sometimes I
need some loving arms to welcome me.”

“
Necesitas
no más que llamarme buscarme
.” She sipped her beer. “Was it not a few weeks
ago I saw you here,
mi amigo
, with that
chica deliciosa
?
Cómo
se llama
? Tamarind?”

Enrique
interrupted them to ask Jesus what he wanted to drink. After the bartender left
to get another Medalla, Jesus picked up a
surullito
and broke it between
his thumb and forefinger. Cornmeal crumbs powdered the counter in front of him.

“
Sí
,
we were together that night. She was very coy and left here alone, only to show
up later and drag me away, begging me to fuck her.
Pero no la he visto en
mucho tiempo
. It’s as though she doesn’t want me to see her.”

“I’ve
seen her.” Raimunda pulled on her cigarette, her lips making a slight smacking
noise as they clasped and released it. “She was at the
norteamericano
bar, the Dockside, a few days later. She complained she hadn’t had a good lay
todo el verano
.”

“
Es
la verdad
?”

“
Sí.
Te mentiría?
I was very surprised,
mi amigo
, very surprised. I
listened while she told
todas las mujeres
about how small the cock was
on her last fuck, smaller than that of the
norteamericano
.”

Enrique
clanked Jesus’ Medalla onto the bar. Raimunda saw his eyes flicker at her last
words, but he said nothing, only took Jesus’ money and returned to his inventory
in the back.

“
Esa
bruja! Le voy a demostrar mi miembre
! How do I find this bitch?”

“She’s
known to stay with
la mujer vieja
Ana.”

Jesus
swigged his entire beer in one breath and slammed the empty bottle down. “
Perdóname,
mi preciosa
. I must go find
este puta joven
and teach her a lesson
no
olvidará nunca
.”

“What’s
your hurry,
mi amor
? Stay with me and have another
cerveza
.
Ahora
no es el tiempo
.”

“Wrong,
cariño
.
Now
es el tiempo perfecto
. Once the hurricane hits Culebra, only those
with a death wish will venture from the safety of their houses. We will have
mucho
tiempo estar solos
juntos
. Tamarind will think again before
complaining to
los gringos
. ”

“
Ah,
ya veo. Buena suerte, mi amigo. Buena suerte.
”

Raimunda
watched as Jesus dropped out of his barstool and loped away to the entrance. In
the dim light from the boarded-up windows on either side of the door, she
recognized the appetite of the man scorned, the single-minded focus of the
predator.

***

Even
above the noise of the wind, Tamarind heard the sound of a car motor on the
hill road from town and her heart leapt. But when she saw the battered old
Pontiac through a gap in the scrub, she knew that it wasn’t John and turned to
look toward the canal so that the stranger wouldn’t see the disappointment in her
gaze. The car rattled to a stop not far from her and a man in a red shirt
blooming with hibiscus and gray polyester slacks jumped out, the car’s engine
idling loudly.

“
Señorita,
dónde está Señora Ana? Mi esposa necesita ayuda ahora, por favor.
”

By now, Tamarind
was used to people driving, walking, and riding horses or bikes to Ana’s door
at all hours of the day, although they had rarely shown such urgency. None of
the Culebrenses had seemed very surprised to see Tamarind and she sometimes
wondered if they attributed her presence to the power of Ana’s magic—for all
they knew, Ana had conjured her up from lifeless dust. Shrugging, she accepted
their conclusions—they weren’t entirely wrong anyway—and did nothing that would
cause them to think differently. The Creator had allowed her to remain unknown
among these humans and she must be careful not to invite suspicion to herself.

Without
a word, she gestured for this latest supplicant to wait before sprinting away
toward the beach, reveling in the feel of her toes pounding on the stony ground
and the wind in her hair. At the edge of the beach, Ana waited for Tamarind,
her knees under her chin as she squatted, her single eye glinting even though
the sun no longer shone. She unfurled herself and stood up. Together, they
hurried back up the hidden path toward the man, whose anxiety manifested itself
in rapid, unceasing Spanish.

“
Señora
Ana! Señora Ana
!” The man shouted even before he saw them. “
Es el
tiémpo. El bebé va nacer pronto. Vengate con migo, por favor.”

Ana
smiled widely when she came out onto the hill. “I’ve been expecting you, Jaime.
Only Carme would have the bad luck to have a baby in a hurricane.”

Jaime
crossed himself. “
Madre de Diós! Digáme si ellos estén bien
.”

“You
think you’re having a son? ‘
Ellas’ estén bien, muy bien
, if we leave
now. Tamarind, you must come with me and help.”

Tamarind,
who stared beyond the Pontiac where the road disappeared over a hill, started
at Ana’s command and looked at them with narrowed eyes. “Me? What do you mean?”

Ana
swiveled on her haunches to look up at Tamarind; her hands flitted in the air
around her. “Look, young one, there’s a mother about to give birth. She’s in a
lot of pain and needs my help. And I need yours. So stop thinking about
yourself and go back to my place. We’re going to need a few things.”

Tamarind’s
mouth opened, but she shut it again. Nodding, she listened as Ana told her
exactly what to get before returning to the house on heavy feet. Inside, Ana’s
chickens chuckled nervously from a temporary roost in one corner. She finished
gathering the midwife’s book, some scissors, and the medicine basket when she
remembered the moonstone Goddess that she’d hidden down on Playa Tamarindo
along with all of her other belongings. Wrapping a cloaking glamour around
herself, she slipped out of the door while Ana and Jaime secured a tarp over
the chicken coop and the wooden seagull house. Ana had sent all of the seagulls
away days ago to nesting areas on the Puerto Rico mainland. After the storm
hit, they would fly over the islands and return to her with news from other
midwives.

Tamarind
reached Playa Tamarindo and quickly released the cloaking spell guarding her
horde of human artifacts. She ignored the pile of clothes and hair ornaments
carefully tucked inside and snatched the moonstone Goddess up. There wasn’t
much time and she had no idea if she’d mastered the necessary spell from the
midwife’s book. Clutching it to her chest, she closed her eyes and murmured.
She squatted, still murmuring and touched the seawater that surged restlessly
toward her. A thrill ran through her fingers. On impulse, she popped up and
hurried over to the scrub along the edge of the shore. Squatting again, she dug
away at the roots of the closest low-growing bush and stuck her fingertips into
the earth. Again she murmured. A new power tasted her skin and tickled her
hand, unfamiliar and rich. When it flowed through her veins, it had none of the
wild impatience of Mother Sea. Rather, it filled her with the dark, steady
scent of the cavern where she’d gained her legs.

This new
power stayed with her while she climbed away from the beach, her calf muscles
straining against the incline and the soles of her feet aching from the stones
and uneven ground. In the cavern of her fist, the moonstone glowed as if lit
from within and the wires embossed themselves on her palm. She hummed a bit,
deep and low, and several clicks skittered across her palate. Overhead, the
flat gray sky waited, impervious and implacable. As she crested the top of the
hill behind Ana’s house, rising winds waylaid her, nearly knocking her off her
feet and back down the hidden path.

Her hair
fluttered into her face and then two arms wrapped around her, one around her
mouth and the other around her torso. She dropped the Goddess. Fingers from the
hand over her mouth pressed hard into her nostrils, asphyxiating her. From
somewhere off to her right, she heard a hoarse shout and then the pulsating of
her blood drowned out all other sounds. She squirmed and kicked a heel into
flesh and bone. A kaleidoscope of vivid colors whirled across her vision before
disappearing into soft, soundless charcoal.

When her
senses returned, she found her arms wrenched behind her and her wrists tied
tightly together. Her ankles too were tied together and she lay on her side in
the back of a moving vehicle. A gag bit the corners of her mouth and choked her
dry tongue; some rough cloth covered her eyes. Beneath her, unidentifiable
objects dug into her side and the reek of old fried foods, the bitter tang of stale
beer, and the slightly sweetish scent of something else mingled together and
assailed her. A sharp ache threatened to split her forehead and nausea burbled
in her gut. In her current condition, so far from sea and unable even to
manipulate the fine drops of water in the air around her with her fingers, she
had no hope of calling on any magic, let alone producing a cloaking spell for
herself.