Mermaids and Cigarets

Chapter 19

                 Michael was passed out on the couch; reruns of an old sitcom looping on the television. It was early morning, the sun barely grasping the sky. There was a cold draft in the house, subtle but striking. The changing of seasons looming overhead. Still, Michael slept on.

                 Marcy lurked up to the front door, Alexander close behind her. "There's someone in the house." Marcy sniffed. She could smell it, the reeking stench of human life. Suspicious, she leaned her ear against the door, hearing the television on and light snores. Alexander gave her a blank stare, she had forgotten how long it was since she'd seen his face, the clean lines that framed the making of a hearty young man, no longer a boy. A memory surprised her, coming from somewhere she had long forgotten: A night just bright enough to see his face, the comforting chill of the sea breeze, gentle kisses and caresses edging at her sight. Marcy pushed it away, unlocking the door. "It's safe," She whispered.

                 Opening the door Marcy was careful to keep her steps quiet and her breathing calm. Her mind kept racing and there was no stopping it. The king is dead. She thought. He's gone...and Nick doesn't know. These and many others shot through her conscience. Alexander stepped awkwardly behind her, still not used to the new appendages that came with a new body. Marcy looked behind her at him again and put a finger up to her lips, nodding her head at the sleeping man on the couch. Alexander gave her a puzzled look, but Marcy shrugged, not knowing any more than he did. Marcy grabbed the phone from a nearby landline and quietly guided Alexander upstairs.

                   "This is Nick's house?" He asked. Once they were upstairs Marcy lead him to her bedroom, she shivered from a slight draft. "Yes, it is." She trifled through a chest near her closet, pulling out a large white conch and other smaller shells. Alexander sat on Marcy's bed, exhausted from the night before, he lay back. "You were not provided a dwelling?" he asked. Marcy shut the chest and set the shells on top. She blinked, "The banished are not provided dwellings, upon leave." She explained. "Oh." Alexander replied.

                   Marcy began placing the shells around various parts of her room. Some small, precious ones on a dresser, others with delicate etchings, and encryptions on the window seat. Marcy saved the large white conch for last, handing it to Alexander. "What's this?" He sat up. He took the conch in his hands, the grace of his arms and fingers made the movement look so natural to Marcy. "Just listen to it." She muttered, settling next to him on the bed. She had changed into an oversized, gray sweatshirt and jean shorts. Marcy shivered again, unconsciously she moved closer to Alexander.

                 Alexander placed the conch close to his ear and closed his eyes. The room was silent except for the hushed sounds of their breathing. Echoes of the rushing waves outside, filled the room. Marcy placed a hand on the conch and focused her energy on the small engravings she felt under her fingertips. "Just listen." She repeated. Marcy breathed a sigh to calm her nerves.

              The whispers of the waves filled Alexander's ears at first, then a harsh tone interrupted the peace. "By order of the high courts, Macy is sentenced to life banishment on the surface, without atonement for the criminal intent on the prince..." Marcy quickly removed the conch from the prince's ear and clutched it in her arms. "I'm not wanted home." She stated.

              Alexander's face dimmed. "Of course you are; my mother..." He started, but Marcy was quicker than him, "Your mother banished me in the first place." There was silence for a while and the sea breeze entangled Marcy in a gentle cocoon. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was the only answer spoken at the moment. There was no movement between the two and Marcy was frozen from her own guilt and despair.