Page 8 of Oceansong
In the aftershock of the cold and seeing the mer, her extremities still hadn’t regained sensation. She needed time to wrap her head around what she witnessed with her own eyes.
Four
“Beibei.”
Angie shifted her weight on the living room couch, lightheaded with images of the pearl-studded mermaid and her companion. She straightened at Bàba addressing her, her mind bursting with words she had been waiting to tell him. “I know you just got back, but when I was diving, we saw mer-”
On his way to the kitchen, he stopped short next to Angie, and peered down at her. “You saw what?”
Angie formed her next words in her mind before speaking them aloud. “The divers were right. We saw a mermaid and a merman.”
“Are you sure?” Bàba dropped his hand and cleared his throat. “Mermaids?”
“I know it sounds crazy. Then there was a school of arctic char over my head and right in front of us. The mer herded them away from us. After that, they all disappeared.” Angie’s voice dropped to a murmur. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
“So you found them,” he said under his breath. He began to pace, scratching his jaw.
Angie waited to see how he would react next.
He stopped pacing. “I’ll have to think on this. For now, come help clean up. Yourjiejieand her family are coming over.”
“Oh, sure.” Angie’s chest and shoulders deflated as she walked to the kitchen as if she were on autopilot, and put the clean dishes into their cabinets. She would tackle Lulu’s litter box afterward. After telling him the news, she was dying to know what went through Bàba’s mind.
He wouldn’t tell her until he had gathered his thoughts, and he always claimed that the more he moved and did, the clearer his mind.
“When you’re done, take the compost out. I’m getting the garbage.”Bàba called over his shoulder, holding a large black bag, filled to the brim.
Angie threw up her hands. She quit.
After tying the compost bag closed, she jumped at a black and white face peering at her from behind the bin, whiskers and tiny pink nose twitching. Running underfoot and almost tripping Angie, Lulu mewed as she scuttled away to find her next hiding place. “Lulu! You scared the shit out of me.” Angie let out a loud yelp of surprise, and Lulu stopped, turning her head to one side, her mouth opening to release another “Meow?” This one sounding more tentative. The cat returned and wrapped her tail around her ankles, headbutting her.
“Oh, now you want cuddles after nearly making me fall?” She sat cross legged, and Lulu climbed into her lap, kneading her jeans. Then she curled into a furry ball, turning over to expose her belly. It was the softest part of her, but Angie knew better than to scratch it. She could switch from cuddly and loving to swiping at her in a blink with all eighteen claws.
When Lulu decided she had enough and left, Angie resumed her duty. The trek to the compost bin was a three-hundred-foot walk across gravel, and she grunted, struggling to keep steady while holding the bag firm.
Balance was never her strong suit, and the last thing she needed was to trip and drop the bag, spilling five gallons of trash all over the impeccably kept driveway. Her rubber boots crunched on packs of loose pebbles, the path dotted with puddles from the morning rainfall.
The bag made it to its bin, and she dusted off her hands while squinting at two figures in the woods, a quarter mile away. They held plastic bags, and the man squatted to pick up something, inspecting it before dropping it into their shopping bag.
Huh. What were Dave and Jenny doing here?
Were they foraging? Angie had grown up with them, and they had never given off the impression that they were struggling to feed themselves and their kids.
Angie hiked over to them. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Oh, hi, Angie.” Jenny shielded her eyes with one hand and gripped the container in the other. Her face scrunched as if it would repel the sunlight. “Looking for food; Peter’s hungry.”
Angie’s posture stiffened.
“Got a couple huckleberry and lingonberry handfuls and broccoli,” Dave added, motioning to their shopping bags. “I was out all morning at the pier. Got a couple of them pink salmon, enough to feed us for a day or two.”
“We have some tuna and rockfish,” Angie tried. It was normally the type of fish her village shied away from, but it was still food.
“I can’t be eating all that mercury.” Jenny shook her head. “I’m pregnant. We went through all our stored food already.”
“I’ll eat them,” Dave said, with a grunt.
Jenny’s gaze darted to him in a look that Angie couldn’t read. “Alright. We’ll bring some over to your place tonight.”
