~
We drove to San Francisco with the convertible top down, music turned up loud, and wind blasting back our hair. I wore one of my prettiest new dresses and Cruz looked stylish in a black leather jacket and riding boots, a striped scarf artfully draped around his neck. We were making our escape, leaving behind all the stress of the past few weeks.
We drove along the coast the whole way, enjoying views of bucolic farmland and wild unspoiled bluffs with surf raging below. My driving skills had improved considerably and we made it into the apartment building’s underground garage in no time. Boris came out to meet us at the entrance and took the Porsche to park it in Evie’s level.
“Allo, sveetheart,” he said to me as I handed him the keys.
“Hi Boris! This is my cousin Cruz.” Boris scowled at him as we unloaded two large garment bags from the tiny back seat.
“Bets you’ve been having blast vith za Porsche,” said Boris, eyeing Cruz suspiciously.
“Yes–it’s been great!” I said, giving him a quick hug. I took Cruz’s arm and led him to the elevator.
“That is one scary looking Russian!” Cruz said under his breath.
“Boris?” I laughed. “He’s really the sweetest guy. He’s just super protective of Evie.”
We took the elevator up to my apartment, popping in to get cleaned up before we went over to Evie’s. I almost expected to see my dad when we walked in, but the place was empty and the air was still. I went into my room and felt like a visitor, like I was a million years older. I ran a brush through my snarled hair as Cruz stood at the window, taking in the view that swept across the city and ended with the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Wow,” he said, “it’s even better than I remembered it!”
I showed Cruz my art studio, a spacious, high-ceilinged room with the same spectacular view through a much bigger window.
“You have to stay here when you’re in design school! We could share the studio space and you could have the guest room.”
“That would be awesome!” said Cruz. “We could have tons of fun in the city.”
“It’s a plan,” I said.
Cruz sighed heavily. “I wish we were out of high school right now.”
“I know,” I sympathized. “If it wasn’t for you and Megan I’d be outta there.”
“What about Ethan?” Cruz asked slyly.
Ignoring his comment, I shepherded him towards the door. “Ready to go meet Evie?”
“Let’s do it,” he said.
We crossed the hall over to Evie’s apartment and banged on the door. It swung open and Evie threw her arms around me, two leaping little dogs at our feet. She was fully done up for our big day, dressed in couture Valentino with her hair elaborately coiffed. I introduced Cruz, and he just stood, transfixed.
“Come in, come in,” Evie said, gesturing us inside.
Cruz was frozen at the doorway. I took his arm and led him in.
“Marina.” He was wide-eyed. “You didn’t tell me that your Aunt Evie was the Evelyn Pond!”
Evie beamed at him, clearly pleased. After Cruz recovered his composure, he went on and on about how Evie was a true fashion icon who had inspired some of the great designers of her generation.
“She was the first real ‘it girl’,” he said reverently. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I knew she was famous,” I shrugged, “but she’s always just been Aunt Evie to me.” Evie smiled and gave me a squeeze.
“Your cousin is very knowledgeable about fashion,” pronounced Evie. If she was taken aback at all by Cruz’s makeup and piercings, she didn’t show it. She looked at the garment bags Cruz had slung over his shoulder.
“Come, let’s have a peek at all these marvelous designs that Marina tells me about.”
We unzipped the bags and Cruz pulled out one spectacular piece after another, spreading them out onto Evie’s plushly upholstered sofas. She gushed over each item, taking note of the exquisite workmanship and detail. I don’t think I’d ever seen Cruz so euphoric, and his happiness washed over me, so powerful it was contagious.
I looked around fondly at Evie’s enormous and opulently decorated apartment, a riot of gilt and velvet, silk and color. It was so different from my own sparsely furnished place that it was almost comical. The floors were graced with dozens of intricate Persian rugs, and every horizontal surface held an object of ornate beauty. The walls were crowded with colorful paintings and tapestries, and there were many elegant portraits of Evie taken by famous photographers.
When Cruz pulled out the mermaid inspired dress, Evie oohed and ahhed.
“You should see that on Marina,” he said, turning to me. “Could you, please?”
I took the gown to Evie’s dressing room. I slipped it on, and was reminded of when Ethan came in and saw me in it. That was the first day I truly started believing what Lorelei told me about my mother, I thought, feeling a twinge of regret. There was no going back now. I looked in the mirror and admired how beautiful the gown really was. Even without the extreme makeup and hair, the dress looked amazing.
I gasped as a sharp pain bloomed inside my head and a sudden rush of gut-wrenching fear gripped me. Ethan–all I could think about was Ethan. I had to sit down to catch my breath. Maybe putting on the dress had triggered some kind of panic attack. The strange feeling passed and I gathered myself together, rubbing my temples.
When I came out Cruz and Evie had their heads together over his clothes, animatedly chatting away. Clearly they were kindred spirits, and I felt better watching them. Evie looked up to see me and gasped.
“Oh, Marina! It’s divine! My goodness, Cruz, you are a major talent!”
Cruz looked so proud I thought he’d burst. We spent the next few hours talking about clothes, fashion and designers. Evie showed Cruz her cavernous dressing room, stocked full of vintage gowns going back fifty years. He was like a kid in a candy store, fussing over each rare item she extracted from her massive wardrobe.
“Why didn’t you bring this wonderful young man to meet me sooner?” Evie scolded me.
“I honestly didn’t know he was into this stuff!” I protested.
Cruz defended me. “I didn’t show anybody what I was up to for ages. I never met anyone in Aptos who cared this much about fashion.”
“Well, you have now!” exclaimed Evie. “What are your plans for the future?”
We talked for a while about Cruz coming to the city to attend design school. I think Evie was even more excited than I was at the prospect of having him living across the hall from her. I smiled happily at both of them, inordinately pleased. I’d hoped that Evie and Cruz would hit it off, and I was thrilled that she liked his clothes. Evie had an unerring eye for talent. If she took someone under her wing they were certain to succeed.
“My goodness! Look at the time! We have lunch reservations at the club in half an hour.”
I changed out of the gown and we took the elevator down to the parking garage. Boris had the Rolls waiting, warmed up and ready to drive. Evie took Cruz on a quick tour of her late husband’s automobile collection, which filled a whole level of the building’s garage. Cruz was floored by all the beautiful cars, and particularly enamored of a shining silver Jaguar. I knew nothing about cars, but its sleek lines were appealing, and I had to admit it was a beauty.
Evie turned to me while Cruz wandered among the cars. “Your cousin is an absolute delight! And he’s so deliciously counter-culture. I can’t wait until the girls at the club see him!”
I laughed at her. Evie was always enchanted by unique and talented people. I had a feeling she was already hatching plans to make Cruz her new project. I grinned when I thought of the thrill ride that was in store for him. He was going to love getting to know Evie.
When Boris showed up with the Rolls I persuaded Cruz to drive it, since he had more experience behind the wheel. He was nervous but excited, taking the wheel with eager eyes. Evie asked Boris to prepare the Jaguar for us to take home.
&
nbsp; “These cars need to get out more often,” she explained, “and you can come up to see me again in a few weeks and trade it for another.”
We arrived with great fanfare to lunch at Evie’s club, and were given the royal treatment. Waiters fussed and flapped around our table, showering us with attention. I knew that Evie was an excellent tipper, but they all seemed genuinely eager to please her. Cruz was mightily impressed with everything he saw, hanging on Evie’s every word and gesture. It occurred to me that he was in the early stages of his training to enter the rarified world of fashion design.
We were seated at a plush banquette surrounded by colorful saltwater fish tanks. Every time I looked up I saw fishy little eyes watching me, and I decided against ordering seafood. I found myself daydreaming about swimming amongst them, spinning around and under the pink coral.
Evie commissioned Cruz to make her a gown for a New Year’s Eve ball she’d be attending when she wintered in Switzerland. The gala would be loaded with European high society and “simply everyone” would be there. They chattered away with their heads together, dreaming up the design and color scheme, making sketches on napkins. I was lost in my thoughts of mermaids and their mysteries, wondering if Lue Khang’s theory about water spirits could possibly be true.
“Earth to Marina!” Cruz interrupted my musings, waving a hand before my eyes. “Won’t that be a blast?”
“What?” I asked, coming back to reality.
“I’ve made plans to visit Madame Fatima,” Evie announced. “We’re all going to have a reading of the future! I see a beautiful gown in mine.” She winked at Cruz.
We picked up the car from the valet and drove to the outskirts of the city. Evie directed us to a quiet residential neighborhood, where we parked in front of a small pink stucco house. We passed through a wrought iron gate and entered a courtyard built around an ornate rococo fountain, green with moss. Strange little garden gnomes peeked out from behind lush ferns that lined the pathway, ending at a small black door with an evil eye amulet mounted over it.
Evie’s penchant for visiting psychics, palm readers and new age spiritualists had taken us all over the city, but this was one of the more unusual locations she’d dragged me out to. I knew one thing for sure: Madame Fatima was simply the flavor of the month.
The three of us were led into a dimly lit sitting room by a small, elaborately dressed woman. The first thing that struck me about Madame Fatima were her large, deeply set eyes. Glittering like polished onyx, they struck me as ancient and reptilian. Those arresting eyes were set in a face that was stoic, unmoving and unreadable. She could have been carved from stone. The overall effect was startling, and I found myself wondering where she came from, and when.
The lighting in the room added to the general aura of other-worldliness. Lamps were draped with lacy black scarves, and the pungent scent of cloves and pepper hung in the air. Fatima motioned for us to sit on a narrow Victorian couch upholstered in a rich brocade.
She must be taking Evie for a lot of money, I thought. Dad and I had never approved of Evie’s passion for the occult, but it made her happy when someone claimed to put her in touch with her late husband, and it usually seemed harmless enough. My father had schooled me in the scientific method, and counseled me to be skeptical about her various supernatural beliefs. I wondered how a man like him could have found himself married to a mermaid.
Fatima chose to do Evie’s reading first, leading her into some inner sanctum down the hallway. Cruz looked at me, wide-eyed and clearly spooked, and I laughed so suddenly I snorted.
“Oh, come on,” I said between giggles. “What do you think she’s gonna say?” I crossed my eyes at him, mimicking one of Evie’s past favorites. “You vill be reech and famous.” We both dissolved into a fit of giggles. Evie returned with a satisfied air about her, and plunked down next to me. Fatima beckoned for Cruz to follow her.
“Fatima is different,” Evie said in a hushed tone. “She has the gift.”
When Cruz returned after his reading he looked serious but calm. “I’d believe her,” he whispered with conviction. I flashed him an irritated look and took my turn. Fatima led me down a narrow hall into a darkened octagonal room lined with thin strips of mirrored tile. There was a candle flickering in the middle of a small table, and the ceiling was draped with deep purple velvet. It felt like the inside of a tent except for the fractured reflections on the surrounding walls. I took one of the two seats at the table and Fatima sat opposite me.
She inspected me carefully, and I wondered how much Evie had already told her about me. She touched the black lace of her collar and sucked in a sharp breath.
“Put your hands on the table, palms facing up,” she commanded in a sonorous droning voice. I sighed and complied, eager to get it over with. She looked across the table at me with a knowing look. “You do not believe.” A smile played about her mouth. “No matter. The spirits do not busy themselves with mortal concerns.”
“That’s good,” I said flippantly, annoyed at the way she rolled her r’s. Madame Fatima took a second deep breath and rubbed her palms together before placing them on mine. Her eyes sprang open wide, blindly shocked, and then went blank.
“There is an inheritance, a birthright you must claim,” she intoned.
Wrong person, I thought with amusement; you have me mixed up with Cruz. She continued, and it was as if someone else–someone stronger–spoke through her tiny body. “The spirits require a sacrifice. Something of importance must be surrendered.” She drew a jagged, stuttering breath. “The water holds the key … You have powers … you have powers far greater than mine.” She lowered her chin to her chest. “The ancestral water is the source.”
I yanked my hands back, shocked.
She looked up, face impassive, ancient eyes guarded. “That is all.”
The water reference was what got me, and the part about sacrifice. It echoed what Ethan had told me about Lue Khang’s predictions. It made me want to find Lorelei again desperately. But how? My mind was racing as I stumbled back into the sitting room. Evie thanked Fatima and we headed out into the fresh air and daylight.
“Well, what did I tell you? Was she not magnificent?” gushed Evie.
We piled into the car for the drive back to the apartment. I sat quietly in the back seat while Evie and Cruz compared notes about their readings, equally impressed with their authenticity.
“She knew about my father!” Cruz gasped in astonishment. He started animatedly telling Evie the shocking story of how he learned about his inheritance. Until today, he wasn’t sure if he was going to respond to the letter or not.
“How heart-wrenching!” Evie empathized. She was fascinated with any kind of human drama, and the story of Abby’s love affair and abandonment really touched a nerve with her. She also loved paradoxes, and the fact that honest, sweet Abby could have deceived Cruz all these years intrigued her.
“Oh, what a tangled web we weave …” she said sadly.
Cruz went on to explain that Fatima had asked him about a certain amount of money that was being sent his way, and advised him to accept it. Surprise, surprise, the skeptic in me thought.
“She said it was the will of one in the spirit world,” Cruz said solemnly.
“He’s reaching out to you from the great beyond,” said Evie with her hand to her throat.
I scoffed at them from the back seat, my arms crossed.
“You’re awfully quiet about your reading,” said Cruz. “What did Fatima say to you?”
“Just the usual,” I lied. “You know, I’ll find true love and be wildly successful.”
Cruz laughed. “Well, the love part seems to be true already.”
Upon which Evie started grilling Cruz for information. I sat squirming the whole way back while Cruz told Evie tales about my friendship with Ethan.
“My little sister, in love for the first time,” Evie said dreamily.
“Little sister?” asked Cruz.
“Sister, niece–
whatever!” fussed Evie. She turned and winked at me and I laughed, for that had always been our little joke with waiters and shopkeepers. Evie had a thing about growing old, and didn’t like it when people took us for mother and daughter.
We walked Evie back to the apartment and gathered up the clothes. Cruz took Evie’s measurements, and plans were made for a return visit and dress fitting. We hugged and air kissed our goodbyes, making our way to the parking garage where the Jaguar was gassed up and ready to go.
“Enjoy it, sveetie,” said Boris with a nod, handing me the keys.
“You take us home,” I told Cruz as I passed them on to him. We pulled out of the garage and took the freeway back to Aptos.
Cruz was clearly enjoying driving the sleek silver Jaguar. He turned to me. “You sure weren’t exaggerating!” He grinned and shook his head. “I can’t believe I just met Evelyn Pond!”
“That’s my Aunt Evie,” I said with a chuckle.
“My God! What an amazing woman! You are so lucky to have grown up with her. And she’s aging magnificently! She’s like a real life Auntie Mame!”
“I know, and the fortune teller … Pure Evie.”
Cruz nodded. “That was freaky. She really helped me, though.”
“So you decided to find out what your father left you?” I asked.
“Yeah, I guess there’s no point in being angry at a dead man. I might as well know.”
“What kind of dress are you going to make for Evie?” I asked, switching to a more pleasant subject.
“Hopefully one she loves.”
We spent the rest of the drive home discussing fabric choices, color schemes and styles that might look best on Evie. When we pulled onto our street there was a figure sitting on our porch. I thought it was Abby at first, but as we drew near I recognized Shayla. She came forward to meet the car as we pulled in.
“Here comes trouble,” said Cruz under his breath. I knew instantly that there was something wrong, and I jumped out of the car, my heart pounding in my throat.
“What is it?” I cried.
“It’s Ethan,” said Shayla. “He, like, had an accident. He’s in the hospital.”
The blood ran out of my face and I steadied myself, clutching the car door. A voice in my head was screaming “I knew it! I knew it!”
“What happened?” I gasped, the wind knocked out of me.
“A bunch of us were surfing up the coast when some local dudes showed up. They kept dropping in on people. One of them wiped out on Ethan and nailed him in the head. He was bleeding real bad. He was asking for you.”
My hands were shaking as I reached to Cruz. “Give me the keys,” I said, my voice flat.
“I’d better drive you,” Cruz said, glancing over at me. He turned to Shayla. “Thanks for telling us. Can we give you a ride anywhere?”
Shayla looked surprised that Cruz even spoke to her. “Uh, no, thanks. I can walk home from here.”
We got in the car and rushed over to the hospital. I was sick to my stomach, because I should have known it; I had had a feeling something bad was going on with him. I remembered the cold fear that had washed over me in San Francisco. I knew with an awful certitude that he had been hurt at that precise moment. The pain in my head returned. Cruz got us to the hospital and found out what floor he was on. We raced over to the nurses’ station and a man approached us.
“Cruz?” he asked, looking a little taken aback at his appearance. He turned towards me. “You must be Marina.”
“Marina, this is Ethan’s dad,” said Cruz.
“Call me Dutch,” he said, shaking my hand. He was tall, like Ethan, with graying sand-colored hair. He had the weather-beaten face of an outdoorsman, and kind eyes that were also deep blue like Ethan’s. I had another sharp twinge of pain in my head and saw a crystal clear picture of Abby and Dutch standing hand in hand in the doorway of Abby’s house. I felt like I was losing my mind.
“How is he?” I asked, fear and pain in my eyes. Dutch looked a little alarmed at my intensity, and he filled us in on the details as he led us down the hall.
“He’s going to be all right,” he said, trying to soothe me with his voice. “He needed a lot of sewing up but they tell me it looks worse than it is. They’re keeping him overnight to make sure.” He turned to me at the door. “He’s resting now, but he’s been asking for you.”
Ethan was lying with his eyes closed and a huge swath of gauze bandage wrapped around his head. I rushed to his side and studied him acutely. I took his hand in mine and was relieved to find that it was warm. He was breathing regularly but he didn’t stir. I looked up to meet his dad’s eyes.
“Can I wait here,” I asked, “until he wakes up?”
“I think he’d like that,” said Dutch, looking at me perceptively. “Are you sure you’re gonna be alright? You look like you could use some rest yourself.”
“I’m OK,” I said, nodding reassuringly at him. The pain in my head was beginning to recede. I turned to Cruz, who was standing awkwardly at the door. “You can go home; I’ll be fine. I’ll call you to come get me later.”
Cruz gave me a quick hug, said he’d be waiting for news, and left.
Ethan’s dad stretched and yawned. “I’m going to get something to eat. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thanks.” I pulled a stool up alongside the bed.
He turned to go. “Thanks for coming,” he said. “I didn’t want to leave him alone till they’re sure he can go home.” I could see he was tired and worried too.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said firmly.
As I watched Ethan’s sleeping face, I couldn’t help thinking about the mermaids. Could they have been behind the accident? I felt a surge of anger at the thought. This was between me and them. I resolved to confront them. Whether or not they were responsible for this, I couldn’t go on constantly worrying about what they might do to him.
I leaned over the bed, stroking his cheek with my fingertips. His eyes fluttered open and focused on my face.
“You’re here,” he smiled.
“Ethan,” I whispered, hot tears burning my eyes, “I’m so sorry …”
“Don’t cry,” he said. He reached for my hand clumsily. “I’m okay.” He pressed my hand to his face and sighed. He closed his eyes again. “Don’t leave me,” he mumbled. On an impulse, I bent down and kissed him on the forehead, moving down to kiss him again softly on the lips. He drifted back to sleep as I laid my cheek alongside his, willing him to get better. His face felt rough against mine, and his hair smelled like salt water. I wanted to crawl into bed and wrap myself around him, as if I could somehow protect him. Instead, I sat on the stool and rested my head against his chest, reassured by his strong and steady heartbeat.
I must have dozed off almost immediately, because the next thing I knew Abby was gently shaking my shoulder. “Marina, wake up.” I opened my eyes, disoriented, to see Abby and Dutch in the room with us. Several hours had passed, and Ethan was still sleeping.
“Cruz told me what happened, and I thought you might want to get changed,” she said.
I stood up and smoothed my wrinkled dress. I must look like a mess, I thought.
“I brought you some things from home,” Abby said with a concerned look, holding up one of my totes.
“Thanks, Abby.” I took my bag gratefully. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
I walked out to find the restroom and looked in the mirror. My hair was messy, and there was mascara smeared under my eyes. I washed my face and checked the contents of my bag. Abby had packed a change of clothes, a brush, and a toothbrush. I smiled, thinking about how thoughtful she was. I felt much better when I came back out.
Dutch and Abby were sitting side by side in the lounge, heads together. She looked like a beautiful earth mother, wearing a long skirt made of old blue jeans and a colorfully embroidered Mexican peasant blouse. Was it my imagination or was there something happening between them? I thought about the image I had seen of them together.
“The doctor says he’ll be just fine,” she said, looking up with a radiant smile.
Abby brought a soothing, calm feeling to the room; things seemed brighter with her there. I could see Dutch watching her with fascination, and I wasn’t surprised when he looked up at me with flushed cheeks.
“He’s awake now. They’re checking on his sutures,” he said.
I entered the room to see a nurse pulling back the bandage to reveal Ethan’s shaved temple. There was a nasty cut with a row of scary looking stitches holding it together. I gasped and Ethan looked up, smiling when he saw me. “That bad, huh?” I rushed over to the side opposite the nurse, who was busy re-wrapping the wound.
She looked at me. “Don’t worry, hun; your boyfriend is gonna be just fine.”
I felt the blood rush to my face.
She turned to Ethan. “It’s closed up nicely, but you do have a concussion. You need to take a break from surfing for a couple of weeks.”
Ethan groaned, “Two weeks?”
She hurried out of the room, shaking her head. “Surfers!” she said with mock exasperation.
I sat down on the stool next to him, serious and stern. “What happened? Did you see her? Was it one of them?”
“No! It was just some jerk who dropped in on me,” he said, meeting my eyes. Then he added, “I might have seen her, though.”
“She was there?” I asked angrily, my temper rising.
“It’s not like that.” He looked alarmed at my anger. “I thought I spotted her off in the distance, and I suppose I wasn’t watching out for that fool. I should have been able to avoid him.” He grimaced. “How long was I out of it? When did you get here?”
“Cruz and I got home this afternoon and Shayla told us what happened.”
“Whoa,” he said, gingerly touching the bandage on his head, “I don’t even remember how I got here.”
I realized he didn’t remember me being there earlier either. I was kind of relieved, blushing at the thought of kissing him as he lay there helpless.
“Cruz brought me and dropped me off. I wanted to wait until you woke up, to find out what happened.” I grimaced. “I figured they had something to do with it! I had a bad feeling something was going to happen to you.” How could I explain my visions to him without sounding crazy?
“Marina, it wasn’t her fault–”
“Now you sound like me,” I said impatiently. “I have to find out what they’re up to.”
Ethan looked alarmed. He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Swear to me you won’t go out looking for them.”
“I’ll be careful,” I said with confidence, squeezing his hand. “Don’t worry,” I added softly.
Abby and Dutch came in the room. Ethan looked up, surprised to see them together. Abby gave Ethan a warm hug and told him how worried everyone had been.
“I need to get Marina home; she’s been here for hours, and it’s getting late.” She looked at me. “You can come back first thing in the morning.”
I nodded, suddenly feeling drained, and looked up to meet Ethan’s anxious eyes.
Abby turned to Dutch. “Nice to see you again. Sorry it’s under such terrible circumstances.” She seemed a little nervous as she ushered me out of the room.
“Bye–I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told Ethan. He looked better, and I was starting to calm down as we walked out the door. I turned back to see two pairs of blue eyes watching us go.
“Wow!” Abby gasped as she drove us home, “I totally forgot how cute Ethan’s dad was.”
~
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
HAIRCUT
~
Suspended in a black cavern, I was surprised to be breathing. Cool heavy water flowed in and out of my lungs, and I looked around me in shocked incredulity. There were at least twenty of them, all young and impossibly beautiful. They shimmered with a cool blue light that reflected off the sheer rock walls. Terrified, I wanted out of there.