The Mermaid's Curse

Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Xavier

I know exactly where our first stop will be--namely my sister's closet. My family is probably asleep, but I don't want to take the chance of them seeing me with a near-naked girl. My father disapproves of me enough without adding that to the list. 

It will be a shame to cover Oceania up, though. She's so wild and free that I can't imagine her in a corset and long gown any more than I could visualize myself with a merman's tail. Thinking of our differences brings me a sudden sense of sadness; I've never felt such an instant attraction to any girl before, and I must admit that, even though I scarcely know her, she makes me feel breathless and wonderful.  

But I shake the melancholy feeling away, taking Oceania's dainty hand in mine and deciding that, right now, all that matters is living in the moment.  

We stroll north from Point Joe in companionable silence, passing the lean-tos of the Chinese fishermen. A few minutes later, we're traipsing up the stone walkway of my parents' majestic summer house that overlooks the Spanish Bay. The contrast between the primitive living conditions of the fishermen and the opulence of my family's seasonal home brings on an unwelcome surge of shame. I feel almost guilty for having so much when other people have so little. I take a deep breath of salty air, trying my best to lose the unpleasant, sour taste that has suddenly pervaded my mouth.  

The lights have been switched off, and I heave a sigh of relief, glad that my family is asleep and I won't have to explain Oceania. There is no explaining her, especially to someone like my father, who only sees in black and white.  

Holding my finger to my lips, I lead Oceania into the marble foyer of the darkened house, past the paintings and Tiffany lamps, and up the curving staircase. She makes no sound the entire time, but her eyes have widened to about twice their normal size, and her mouth gapes open like a fish out of water. I suppose that, in a way, that's exactly what she is. 

I motion her into my bedroom. "Wait here. I'll find you something to wear."  

Oceania nods, sliding into the chair at my desk and sitting there in the dark.  

I tiptoe down the corridor to my sister Amelie's room, noticing the thin strip of light shining out from under her bedroom door. I groan under my breath, but then realize that it's actually better that she's awake. I can only imagine what kind of havoc I would create, bumbling through her closets in the dark. 

I knock lightly, and hear a whispered, "Come in." I push open the heavy wooden door, and smile at the sight of Amelie, sprawled out on her bed above the covers, wearing her white nightgown and reading a book by the light of her bedside lamp. She flips over from her stomach onto her side, treating me to an impish grin.  

"What are you doing up so late?" she asks, giggling under her breath. "And you're damp. What were you doing, swimming in the ocean?"

"No. But close." I sit down on the corner of her bed, but she waves me off.  

"Ewww. You smell like seaweed," she says, wrinkling her nose.  

"Sorry," I say, sliding into her mahogany desk chair. I glance at the book she's been reading, and notice with surprise that it is a collection of mermaid lore. Amelie is a voracious reader, devouring books about any and all subjects, but it's strange that she would be reading this book tonight of all nights. 

"So you're reading about mermaids," I continue. "And, incidentally, mermaids are exactly what I came here to discuss. Tell me, do you believe in them?" 

Amelie rolls her eyes, slamming the book shut. "Of course not, Xav. I might be six years younger than you are, but that doesn't mean I believe everything I hear or read. I'm merely interested in mermaid mythology. I guess it's something in the air here--it makes me want to read everything I can about the sea, and all the creatures who inhabit it, mythical and otherwise." 

"Believing in mermaids doesn't make you childish. In fact, I believe in them myself, because I just met one tonight--"

"Pardon me?" Amelie interrupts, holding up a hand. "I thought I just heard you say that you believe in mermaids." 

I feel my face heat up under Amelie's scrutiny. What I'm saying does sound crazy. "I do," I say quickly. "That's why I'm bothering you. May I borrow one of your dresses? I want to give the mermaid something to wear besides her seaweed and seashells, since I'm planning to show her around tonight." 

"What?" Amelie sits upright, regarding me with narrowed eyes. "Have you gone insane? I have news for you that might come as a shock. Mermaids. Don't. Exist." 

"Yes. They. Do," I say, mimicking her irritated staccato voice. "If you don't believe me, come into my bedroom."

Amelie pushes herself up from her bed, still looking at me as though I've just sprouted two heads. "All right. But this had better be good." 

She follows me to my bedroom, and I draw in a deep breath as I open the door. Amelie's doubts have made me briefly question my own sanity. My story does sound ridiculous. What if Oceania really was a figment of my overactive imagination, a daydream gone awry? 

But a moment later, I sigh in relief. Oceania sits at my desk, just as I'd left her.  

"Oceania," I say, turning on the light. "There's someone I'd like you to meet." 

Amelie takes one look at Oceania, and all color drains from her face. A second later, she faints, and before I can reach out to catch her, she crashes to the floor like a fallen redwood. 

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