Mermaids of Glendale - a novel

Chapter 16

I know what you are.

These five words, written on a yellow Post-it note in black marker pen, greeted Lorna when she returned to her cabin on board the research yacht, Courageous Otter.

Lorna and Kitt swam together in the clear waters and in the crisp sunshine until at last the light began to fade and eventually Lorna's tail became her legs again and, as a result, Lorna found herself exhausted. After being able to swim so effortlessly, feeling almost weightless with the grace of her tail and her caudal fin, she felt as though her legs were now heavy, clumsy meat by comparison. She threw her arm around Kitt's broad shoulders and he helped her back to the boat, one arm wrapped around Lorna's waist, his other arm swimming sidestroke. When they reached the Otter, Kitt climbed out first and then pulled Lorna from the water and into his arms -- the embrace of a sun-warmed beach towel and Kitt's well-toned arms.

"I'm tired, Kitt," said Lorna. "I'm going to go lay down for a while."

"Okay, Lorna," said Kitt. "If you fall asleep, I'll come wake you in a couple hours. Dr. Milagros is making dinner this evening. What that man can do with fajitas, if he wasn't a scientist he'd make a damn good chef."

"Sounds good, Kitt," said Lorna. She reached up and kissed him, then slipped from his embrace, wrapping the towel around herself tightly and went down the steps into the cabin hold. There were three small guest cabins onboard. Lorna was sharing a cabin with Dr. MacAvoy, who was currently on deck with Kitt, Dr. Milagros and the USC students, reviewing notes from the excursion to Guadalupe Island that day.

Lorna luxuriated in a hot shower, washing the smell of the ocean from her skin and hair. She dressed in lightweight cotton pants and a tanktop and stepped from the small bathroom back into the cabin and that was when she saw the note sitting on the pillow of her single bed berth.

I know what you are.

A chill stole over Lorna, a ripple of goosebumps rising from her shoulders and on down to her calves, a tingle similar to that which signaled her transformation. This, too, was a transformation of sorts -- a transition from love and confidence, a backsliding into fear.

"Who wrote this?" said Lorna aloud.

She could hear footsteps and muffled voices from up on deck. She was out to sea on a chartered yacht with marine biologists and research students. She had a mind to go upstairs right now and confront them all regarding the note but first Lorna needed to sit down, to lay down, just for a moment, just to settle her suddenly racing pulse, to rest her tired limbs. Within minutes Lorna was lulled by the motion of the waves, the Pacific Ocean lapping against the yacht, the sea carrying her along into a dreamless sleep.