Page 26 of Oceansong
Essentially, her work area today was the entirety of the docks. Her mind fogged, dreading the day ahead. No wonder she was exhausted.
A woman brushed past her speed-walking, turning Angie’s attention from her piece of paper. The woman’s dark ringlets were piled in a high ponytail on her head, bouncing with each step.
It was Eva, a woman who had been working at the docks for nearly two decades. “You going to the meeting? The boss and Nick are waiting for us!”
She hadn’t heard about any meeting, and she wrinkled her nose. “What meeting?”
“You didn’t get the memo this morning? Said it was urgent. C’mon. Boss’ daughter can’t be late.”
“Clearly, the boss’ daughter didn’t get that email.”
Eva snorted with a half-smile, and Angie followed her to an empty outhouse at the dock’s far corner, by the water’s edge. “Had no time to checkit.”
“I know. Can barely scrape up enough energy to have dinner with my daughter. I want this shit to be over already,” Eva grumbled. “I’d hate to see how much worse it’ll get.”
“You and me both,” Angie muttered. “How’s Celia doing?”
“I’ll show you.” Eva flashed her a toothy grin and pulled out her phone. It was a photo of mother and daughter standing in knee-deep crystal-clear water on a white sand beach, arms wrapped around each other with broad, mirthful smiles. The sunlight in the photo winked off Celia’s nose ring, creating a ball of light on her cheek. “We went to Cabo when she graduated high school last year. Get away from the cold a bit, you know?”
“You two are beautiful!” Angie exclaimed. Eva’s happiness rubbed off on Angie, and she was glad to talk about something else other than the mer, for however brief a time. “Is she in college now?”
“No, she decided against college. She’s working for Creston General Hospital as an inpatient medical assistant. Comes here every weekend to scuba dive.” Eva ran her thumb over her phone screen as if caressing her daughter’s cheek. “Feels like yesterday I brought her home from the orphanage. How time flies.” She put her phone back into her jeans pocket, her next words spoken under her breath, but still clear enough for Angie to overhear. “If only Adrianna could see us now.”
Angie laid a hand on Eva’s forearm. She remembered her story, what felt like a long, long time ago. How Eva’s wife, Adrianna, had left her because Eva wanted kids, and she didn’t.
Eva cleared her throat. “Anyway, you should come by for dinner sometime so I can re-introduce you ladies.” Her smile vanished. “If we have enough food for more than our family, by then.”
“You’re feeling the fish shortage, too?” Angie couldn’t hide her surprise. Eva and Celia lived one hour southeast of the docks, where there was adequate farmland.
“Yup,” Eva’s voice pitch dropped, her shoulders following. “Since we don’t have fish, we’ve been going through our crops faster than we can grow them. We also went to the Lums’, but we haven’t had much luck. Seemed like once the new stock came in last week, the downtowners and rich folks snatched it all up. Doesn’t leave much for the rest of us.” Grim creases lined Eva’s eyes as she pushed the creaky wooden door open. The room filled with the susurrations of a hundred dock workers, boaters and divers, gawking and pointing in front of them.
What interested Angie was a small group of divers gathered around a long rectangular table, and she sidled her way in. The smell of warm saltwater, pungent fish, and metallic blood filled her nostrils. She gagged at the fetid stench.
Three mer lay side by side, like fish being organized after a catch. Two mermaids, one smaller than the other, and one merman, dead by spearfishing. Angie scanned them, their tails an equal shade of brilliant, eye-catching viridian.
A family.
Angie held her breath until she grew dizzy, her clasped fingers tightening and draining the blood from her knuckles. She stepped closer, looking for markings on their bodies. There were none.
The door behind her flung open, and she jumped back. Nick and Bàba strode in with two senior dock workers in tow. Not a semblance of a smile to be found on their stoic faces. None of them looked at her when they walked past, and Angie fell into formation with the others.
Starting the meeting, Bàba produced a folded piece of paper from his pocket. First, updates to dock’s buildings and fortifying the shorelines with traps in case any wayward mer happened to wander too close. Then, he warned everyone not to approach the shoreline alone, even if armed.
Angie leaned in to murmur in Eva’s ear. “If I were still in Washington, the mer would be all over social media. And that video would have gone viral.”
Eva gave a dry laugh. “You know how us Crestoners are. We like our privacy.”
She nodded, knowing all too well. Privacy was one of the reasons their mayor turned down any request to implement a wireless network, and only a single cell tower served part of the docks and downtown for Crestoners to keep in touch with each other, and the outside world. “I downloaded some of those apps in college, but I didn’t see the big deal. And I couldn’t keep up with everyone, so I deleted them a week later.”
“I never encouraged Celia to use it. I’m actually surprised she hasn’t asked about it like all my friends’ kids have. I mean, we got along just fine without it, growing up.”
Creston was an insular community, and it seemed little had changed since Angie had been gone.
Bàba reached for the water flask around his waist, drawing Angie’s attention back to him. “I’m sure some of you have heard that other docks are also experiencing a massive fish shortage. The Coast Guard has been deployed to investigate.” He sipped. “In terms of us, the Creston council and mayor is assisting us with funds and recruitment.”
Then Nick jumped in, and Angie would have sworn Bàba shot a glareat him for interrupting. “Yes, Dad, thank you. They can kill them or take them alive.”
“Why would anyone want to keep them alive? As a pet? Like we’d want to stare at those things all day. Well, maybe the females,” a male dock worker retorted from beside Angie, cackling after his last sentence.
