Chapter Nine
Lara explained that water nymphs are an irresistible delicacy for sea trolls. She risked her life diving in the pool to save my friend even though she knew the creature was only grabbing him to get to her and Alexia.
I recalled that I didn’t even budge from the lounge chair as Alexia ran by. Too risky. Yet this tiny girl dove in to rescue my friend without fear for her own wellbeing.
“You knew the creature was in the pool?”
“We suspected.”
“And yet you dove in, knowing that’s what it wanted.”
“I couldn’t let an innocent boy be harmed,” she said.
Embarrassing. Obviously, I could.
She told me that the Nereid possess incredible speed, like The Flash, and that sea trolls also possess the same kind of speed which is how the Lycorian could get in and out of Alan’s pool undetected.
“I knew I didn’t see you enter Alan’s pool. Sorry I busted you.”
“That’s all right, although it did alarm me at first. But no one believed you. To them, it was crazy talk. Joshua Butters is a crazy man,” she said and laughed.
“Now who’s being insulting?”
She told me the troll had probably wandered into the area, like a bear that had come down from the mountains foraging for food. When the troll caught the scent of water nymphs living nearby, he decided to hideout and capture them.
Finally, she reminded me that if I breathed a word of her family’s secret to anyone, her mother would know, and that both me and my family would be in mortal danger.
Before I knew it, she was again pulling me through the darkness and back to the wrought iron gates.
Lara deposited me outside the gate with a final set of warnings: “Don’t tell anyone what you saw, don’t come back here, and don’t have feelings for me.” With that, she disappeared into the shadows. The music in my mind softened, and then slowly faded out.
I had dreams that night—terrible dreams.
I dreamt of beautiful nymphs frolicking in the waters of a hot spring. The spring was set in a lush garden. A rainbow of butterflies, all sizes, shapes, and colors added to the beauty of the bucolic scene.
And then the creatures came, horrid creatures of all kinds emerged from the trees and began attacking the defenseless nymphs of the garden. Hideous sea trolls emerged from under the water, slashing at the nymphs with their claws. The air became red with blood, and saturated with screams as the creatures wantonly killed and then feasted upon the defenseless water nymphs.
“Help us!” a male voice cried out. It was Petros. He and Rive were also under siege, doing their best to fight off the monsters and save the nymphs, but there were too many.
I was lying on a lounge chair nearby, observing the melee. I didn’t move to help the satyrs rescue the nymphs. Too risky, I thought.
I woke up screaming.
I didn’t go to Alan’s that morning.
I lay in bed, wondering what, if anything, I should do. The thing in Alan’s pool may not have been after Alan and his family, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t harm them.
But what can I say to make Alan aware of the danger without putting my own family in danger?
I believed Lara when she told me what her mother would do if I breathed a word of what I saw.
I couldn’t risk that.
I rolled out of bed around ten, and went into the kitchen to have a bowl of cereal. My father was seated at the table, reading the paper, and drinking coffee.
“Hey, Dad,” I said.
He looked up and smiled. He’d aged over the past few years. He was graying at his sideburns, and there were hard lines around his eyes and across his brow. Worry lines, my mother called them.
He had reason to worry. Back when Dad realized he’d gone as far as he could in his old job, he quit and started his own security company. Better Security—another play on our family name. Dad sank his life savings into the company that never quite got off the ground. No longer working with the stars, these days, Dad installed fewer and fewer security systems in the homes of fewer and fewer working class families, like ours.
“What are you doing home so late?” I asked, as I poured milk over my Frosted Flakes.
“Client cancellation,” he said. “Not to worry, though,” he added quickly. “I’ve got a big job lined up for later in the week.”
“Good,” I said. Both my parents were busting their butts to keep us in this house so I could continue to attend Beverly Hills high. Troy had graduated last fall. Personally, I didn’t care if we moved someplace cheaper, but I knew my parents wouldn’t hear of it. If we were forced to move out of Beverly Hills, my father would feel even more like a loser than he already did.
Two more years to graduation, and we can clear out of here, I thought.
I loved my parents. I loved what they had sacrificed to secure a good education for Troy and me.
I decided to eat my cereal in my room where I could think without looking into my father’s face, and being reminded of the threat hanging over our heads.
I went to my computer and looked up romantic poets. The names William Blake, William Wordsworth, Lord Byron, John Keats, Percy Bysshe Shelley appeared on the screen. I’d heard of a few of them. They were names I associated with the olden days… and schoolwork. Today, I wanted to know more about these men, these romantic poets. Knowing more about them made me feel closer to Lara. I began reading poetry.
I had just started my reading when Conner called.
“Sorry about yesterday,” he said. He sounded even more tired than the day before.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, playing it cool.
“I thought you might have been teasing me, and I didn’t want to look like a nutjob,” he said.
“Okay.” I ventured nothing more. I didn’t want to talk about the creature. I didn’t want him talking about it, either.
“Can you come over?”
There was a long silence as I weighed my options. Too risky, I told myself, but then I remembered the carnage in my dream, and shame came flooding in.
“Josh. You there?” he asked. He didn’t call me Buttbreath.
“Yeah. I’m here,” I said. “Be there in fifteen minutes.”
Whenever we went over to Conner’s, we always hung out in his room. Not that it made a difference, but I got the feeling the rest of the house was off limits to Conner, the black sheep of the family. He hadn’t done anything to become a black sheep, aside from being born to a different mother than the girls, and he didn’t have a hand in that.
Conner was sitting on the edge of his bed when I walked in. He looked terrible. Tributaries of deep red scrolled through his eyes, as if he’d been up all night. He was wearing the same rumpled t-shirt from the day before, but today he had on long pants to cover the bandage.
He looked up when I entered, treating me to a weak smile.
“Looks like Alan and Alexia Dupree are getting on pretty well. Who’d have thunk it?” he said.
“Not me, that’s for sure.”
“It’s always the guys you least expect who land the hot chicks, just like in romantic comedies.” He attempted a smile.
“Yeah,” I said. “Like you’ve ever watched a romantic comedy,” I added, and we both laughed.
“Seriously, I’m happy for him,” he said. “One of us has finally scored a hottie.”
I nodded. I was happy for Alan, too. Although I was sure he didn’t know the truth about Alexia. Knowing the truth about Alexia Dupree would put the Feinman’s lives in mortal danger.
“I saw something in Alan’s pool,” Conner said, moving onto the reason I was there. “Something horrible.”
Moment of truth time.
“Know what I think? I think you cramped up while you were under the water trying to get the girls’ attention. I think maybe you panicked, and when Lara jumped in, your mind played a trick on you. I think the mind trick is what you’re seeing in your dreams.”
“
Bullshit!” Conner said in a low, almost seething tone. “You know something, Butterfingers. You saw it, too, didn’t you? Didn’t you!” He jumped to his feet, gaping at me.
“Relax, bro. You need to get some rest.”
He plopped back down onto the bed. “Don’t do this to me. You know something.”
“Conner—”
“What was all that talk about a dead coyote in Mrs. Hauser’s pool? Huh? You wouldn’t have brought us together if you didn’t, at the very least, suspect something. You wouldn’t have risked that.”
I stiffened when he said you wouldn’t have risked that. Conner and Alan were my best friends since the eighth grade. We knew each other like the backs of our hands.
Just then, I noticed a tiny, yellow butterfly fluttering by Conner’s computer. I stiffened.
“What’s that thing doing in here?” I practically shrieked.
“It’s a butterfly, Dipstick.”
“I know what it is, Conner.”
I recalled the butterflies in the meadow the previous night, Lara’s warning that her mother would know, and I grew suspicious of a butterfly that just happened to be hanging out in my friend’s bedroom.
I got up, pulled back the drapes and opened the window. After a few minutes, I was able to coax the butterfly out.
“Quit stalling! Are going to come clean with me or not?” Conner asked. I closed the window. The butterfly hovered by the glass on the outside, trying to get in. I had the feeling it had been spying on me.
Crazy time, I know. Joshua Butters is a crazy man. But is it any crazier than the existence of beautiful water nymphs being protected by muscular satyrs?
I came back over, sat close to Conner on the bed, and began whispering.