Mermaids of Glendale - a novel

Chapter 5

Where am I? thinks Lorna, looking down to see her feet covered, her legs disappearing into the sand. She can feel the suction of the surf pulling at her toes as with each successive wave the water thickens the sand around her feet, tugging at her, beckoning Lorna to come into the water.

I know this place, she thinks. Waves crash against the rocky promontory. This is familiar coastline, deserted, a place the family came to many times over the years and then came at last to...to...

"To say goodbye," says Lorna in her dream. She pulls her feet from the sand, the ocean reluctantly releasing its hold on her. Lorna turns and looks down the beach to see her family. Her father Patrick is there, younger than he is now but older than he should have been, aged by sadness and fear. Lorna's sister Marina stands by their father, her comforting hand on his in the way a child tries to comfort their parent and it is a burden no child should ever have to bear.

"But this isn't my family," says Lorna, her voice a whisper lost to the breakers and to the cries of seagulls hovering above the scene, their wings spread wide, drifting and coasting like hang-gliders.

"It's her family."

A younger Lorna walks across the sand to her family, cradling an object in her arms, taking strides both determined yet hesitant. She wants, she needs, this moment to be perfect -- for her father, her sister and for herself. Her mother is ashes in a wooden urn, held in Lorna's arms and against her breasts like a child.

"I couldn't let you go," says Lorna, watching her younger self drawing nearer to the water's edge. Lorna, now, wrapping her arms around herself and starting to rock gently back and forth on the beach as though she herself is a wave, as though her movements can shift the sands of time itself.

Patrick takes his wife in his arms and puts his lips to her sandalwood body and tells Cassandra that he will love her always but that for now -- only for now -- it is time to say goodbye, goodbye...

"Hello, miss?"

Lorna opens her eyes to the bright sunlight and to the shadow hanging over her, the last shreds of dream and of memory slipping away like dust.

"Miss," says the shadow. "Are you alright? Do you need an ambulance?"

Lorna tried to stand. The shadow reached out a hand and helped her up. With the change of angle, the shadow coalesces to the shape of a brunette woman in blue coveralls and Maggie - Custodial stitched onto a white fabric patch on her breast pocket.

"No," replied Lorna, glad that she could stand -- she had her legs back, and although she had lost her shoes again, she was also glad to find she had managed to hold on to her handbag. "No, ah, I think I'm okay."

"Well, alright, but hold on a moment," said Maggie. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a packet of Kleenex tissues and a small bottle of Purell hand sanitizer. She squeezed some of the Purell onto a tissue and touched it to Lorna's forehead. Lorna winced, inhaling through her teeth at the stinging sensation. "You've cut your head."

The events of the previous evening came back to Lorna. Dinner with Dr. Dawson, a stroll along the boardwalk at Shoreline Village, the mohawked-and-fire-spitting street performer, Lorna's fleeing the scene with the onset of her transformation and, apparently throwing herself over the edge of the pier to the water taxi dock below. Lorna remembered it as having gently lowered herself down, but the reality was more painful.

"See?" said Maggie, pulling away the tissue and showing Lorna the shiny blend of blood and Purell. Maggie handed the remaining Kleenex and Purell to Lorna. "I think you'll need these. I can always get more. Are you sure you're okay?"