The Mermaid's Mirror (6 page)

Aw, Pinky,
she thought, pulling out a stuffed pink hippo. She set Pinky down on the floor next to her, then extracted a plush bunny, a chenille teddy, Puss-in-Boots (complete with shiny black boots and feathered hat), and a green sea turtle.

The next layer down was a bunch of file folders containing elementary-school assignments and artwork.
I really can't draw,
she thought, perusing her crayoned stick figures.

Oh, here was her family tree. That was the big fourth-grade project. Lena remembered worrying that her tree would look strange, with three parents on it. But when she saw her classmates' family trees, she stopped worrying. Pem had two moms—she had been adopted from Guatemala when she was a baby—as did Zoe. Their friend Ryder had two dads. Andre and Kenny, who were twins, lived with their grandmother.

Lena slid her old school papers back in the file folders and set them aside.

Underneath a fuzzy pastel baby blanket, Lena found a photo album, its pages tied shut with yellow ribbon. She lifted it carefully out of the trunk. It was full of photos from her early childhood, before her mother died. She hadn't looked at it in years.

Even as she opened the cover, Lena knew the photo album wasn't what she was looking for.
It's too big,
she thought, then made a frustrated sound.
What
wasn't too big?

Lena flipped the pages in the album. Here she was as a newborn, plump and squished-looking, without any hair. There was a shot of her parents surrounded by flowers and balloons that said, "It's a girl!" and "Congratulations!" She was just a tiny bundle in her mom's arms in that one. Her dad looked so young and happy as he gazed at his wife and baby.

She turned the pages. There were more baby pictures ... sleeping, posed in various outfits, wide-eyed and solemn, grinning toothlessly through a faceful of mashed peas, clapping, reaching for her dad, laughing ... so many photos.

Lena turned the last page of the album and stared down at the photo of her mother. Lucy looked radiant in that shot, with her brilliant green eyes and reddish gold hair. The color of honey on fire, Lena remembered her dad saying once, long ago. Despite her beauty, Lucy's heart-shaped face was pale.
She must have already been sick,
thought Lena.

How old would Lucy be, if she were still alive? Lena felt a moment of shame at how little she knew about the woman who had given birth to her. In some ways, she was lucky that Mom—Allie—had filled all her maternal needs so completely that she didn't even miss Lucy.

When she was little—probably Cole's age—Lena had asked her dad a few times what happened to Lucy, but he always said, "I can't talk about it, sweetheart. I'm sorry. Someday when you're older, I'll tell you how we lost her."

What if it's hereditary?
thought Lena.
Maybe I have whatever disease she had.

She thought of the words
I AM FINE
being washed away by the waves.

***

Lena's dad fixed spaghetti—his customary meal when Mom was working late. After dinner, Cole cleared the table and said, "Dad? Want to play catch?"

"Uh—"

Before Lena's dad could answer, Lena said, "I need to talk to Dad for a few minutes, Coley, okay?"

"Okay! I'll play basketball." He headed outside to play with his m ini-hoop.

Lena's dad leaned against the kitchen counter. "What's up?"

"Um, I was wondering," said Lena, putting plates in the dishwasher. Then her throat closed as she prepared to utter the next words:
if you could tell me how my mother died.

"Yes?"

Lena dried her hands with a towel.

Her father waited. Finally he said, "Honey, we're not going to move. I should never have said that. I—"

"No," said Lena. "It's not that. I want to know—" She forced herself to meet his gaze, and he looked at her quizzically. An image of that old photo—with her young, happy parents holding their new baby—came into her mind, and she could not bring herself to say:
how Lucy died.

"...if you ordered my cake yet."

Her dad smiled. "Lena. Your mom plans stuff for a living. Of course she ordered your cake! Why? Did you change your mind about having chocolate?"

"No," said Lena. "I was just wondering."

The sound of the garage door clattering open interrupted them.

Lena's dad looked toward the kitchen door. "Speaking of Mom," he said. "She's had a long day. Will you heat up some spaghetti for her?"

"Sure." She heaped pasta on a plate and put it in the microwave.

Cole banged in through the front door as their mom came in from the garage.

"Hellooo!" she called.

"Mom!" Cole raced up to her and threw his arms around her waist.

"Hi, Coley!" She bent over and hugged him. She looked up. "Hi, guys. Mmm, I smell spaghetti. Is there any left over?"

"It will be ready in two minutes," said Lena.

"Group hug!" yelled Cole. "Dad.
Da-ad.
Lena, come here."

Dad and Lena joined the other two, and they all embraced.

"I'm beat," said Mom. "I'm whipped. I'm exhausted. I'm ... tired." She opened the closet door and tossed her shoes and coat inside. Then she collapsed on the sofa. "Oh, sofa," she groaned, "how do I love thee?"

Cole jumped onto the sofa next to their mom. "Mom, you know what? It's Monday. Can I watch
Monday Night Football?
Dad said I had to ask you." Cole was not allowed to watch TV during the week.

Mom groaned again. "Oh, honey," she said. "Mommy is just catatonic from telling people what to do all day. Please don't ask me right this second."

"What's cantatonic?" asked Cole.

Mom chuckled. "I guess it means I
can't
tell another person what to do today. Dad will have to make the call this time."

"Come on, bud," said Dad. "Let's read some books, then we'll tune in to the game." He and Cole left the room.

Lena took the plate out of the microwave and grated Parmesan cheese on top of the steaming pasta. Handing the plate to her mom, she joked, "I thought you never got tired of telling people what to do."

"Oh, thank you, sweetie," said her mom. "And yes, that's true. Generally, I'm quite comfortable bossing everyone around. As you well know." She took a bite of spaghetti and made appreciative sounds. She swallowed and said, "I guess negotiating TV on school nights is my weak spot. On the one hand, it's a school night, so ... no TV On the other hand, he's the biggest six-year-old sports fan on the planet. It seems wrong to deny him his football."

Lena poured a glass of red wine and handed it to her mom.

"Ohhh, Lena, you're the bearer of nectar and ambrosia tonight." She took a sip. "Delicious."

Mom must know,
thought Lena.
Dad would have told her how my mother died.

Scrolling through recorded shows on the DVR, her mom said, "Oh,
Project Runway!
Excellent! You know I love to watch that show while I eat. Those size-zero models make me feel hungry." She pressed Play on the remote. "Want to watch with me, sweetie?"

Lena regarded her mom, exhausted after a long day of work ... now relaxing with leftovers and reality TV. "Sure," she said, and sat down next to her. The old sorrows could wait.

Lena felt a flash of panic when she woke up.
Am I on the beach again?

Then she felt her mattress beneath her ... solid, not sandy. She saw the four walls of her room, covered with glossy waves ... not the vast expanse of the Pacific. She relaxed, rolling over to see her clock radio. 5:40.

Earlier than usual,
she thought, closing her eyes.

She tried to recapture the remnants of her dream. A woman's voice had been singing: "
By the light ... of the silvery moon...
" But wait, it wasn't a
silvery
moon, in her dream. It was some other word—blueberry moon. Lena smiled in the darkness. The mind was a mysterious thing.

Oh!
Lena's eyes flew open.
Today's my birthday.

She climbed out of bed and went to her window. She pushed the curtains aside and gazed out at the darkness. A full moon hung in the sky, looking enormous.
The harvest moon,
thought Lena. Then she smiled. A silvery moon.

She climbed back in bed, snuggling down under the covers, but sleep would not come.

I guess I'm up,
she thought.
Might as well go for a walk.

She pulled on warm clothes and paused by her desk, looking down at the photo of Lucy she had removed from the photo album. She touched a finger to the image, and felt a surge of longing for her mother. "It's my birthday, Mama," she whispered. "I'm sixteen today."

Padding quietly down the stairs, she wrote on the dry- erase board:

OCTOBER 10!—went for birthday walk—back
for pancakes—chocolate chip!

She slipped outside and hurried down to the beach. She took a deep breath once she reached the sand, filling her lungs with cold salt air.
My first present of the day,
she mused.
The beach.

She headed north, in the direction of Magic Crescent Cove. The beam of light from Pelican Point Lighthouse winked at her over and over, as if beckoning her. "I'm coming," she whispered.

Why don't you ask my sister to teach you to surf?
she heard Kai's voice in her head. Lena stomped her feet on the packed sand.
I should have said yes.

She grabbed a long, pointed piece of driftwood and dragged it behind her as she walked. She stopped and wrote the words
I WILLS URF
in the wet sand.

The tide was still out when Lena came to the bend in the cove where Shipwreck Rocks loomed. She walked close to the water's edge, then climbed across the wet rocks and jumped down on the other side.

The sky began to lighten, imperceptibly at first. Just blackness, then a dark gray color, then pearl gray. Lena found a dry log farther down the beach and sat down. She rested her eyes on the sea, listening to the endless roar of the ocean, feeling tiny on the earth.

The sun rose, casting a weak October light through the clouds. Seagulls appeared as scribbles in the sky, wheeling and flapping.
It must be getting close to seven now,
thought Lena.
I should probably head back.

But she lingered, gazing out to sea, her soul peaceful and open.

After another moment, her eyes focused on a distant rounded shape beyond the breakers. Two shapes.
Dolphins.

She stood up, trying to see better. It was rare to see dolphins along this stretch of coast, and even more rare to see them this time of year. They circled and dove. Was that a third dolphin? Lena walked closer to the water, looking intently.

A wet head rose between the two dolphins. Was it a sea lion? How cool! It was like they were playing. She lifted her arm to wave at the sea lion.

No, the head was bigger and rounder than a sea lion's, without the characteristic snout. Lena's arm dropped as the head rose farther out of the water.

It was a woman.

The hair on the back of Lena's neck stood up. Her eyes widened. Was she seeing things? How could a woman be swimming out there in the middle of the ocean?
Between two dolphins?
Lena didn't blink.

The woman saw her, too, and seemed to be looking back just as intently. Lena could see the pale face, so definitely
not
a sea lion's face, but the woman was too far away for Lena to make out her features. As they stared at each other, the woman seemed to rise higher on the water in an effort to see Lena. Her bare white shoulders were above the surface now.

It's really a woman,
thought Lena.
Not a sea lion. She must be freezing ... she doesn't have a wetsuit on!

Just as Lena was beginning to think she should run for help, the woman disappeared below the surface, leaving a ruffled patch of empty water behind.

Oh, my God, is she drowning?
thought Lena, her heart racing.
I can't just stand here and let someone drown!

Agonized, she waited to see if the woman would come up for air again. Just as she was about to turn and run, she thought she saw the head break the surface again, slightly closer now. She peered out to sea, wondering if she should call to her.

It was definitely a woman. Her face was still too far away to be clear to Lena, but it looked as if her mouth was open in astonishment.

They stared at each other, as if no one else on earth existed, a long silent moment of vision. Then, as Lena opened her mouth to call out, the woman disappeared below the surface again. As she dove, a glistening silver tail flashed out of the water and disappeared back into the sea.

***

Heart racing, the mermaid dove. She swam in a panic, her thoughts scattering like frightened fish.
No, oh, no,
her mind wailed.
No.

Lena stood perfectly still in the same spot, trembling, for the next five minutes.

If she could believe her eyes, she had just seen a mermaid. If she had only
imagined
that flashing tail, then there was a woman out there in the frigid ocean. And if there was a woman out there, she was either drowning or swimming under water to some location where Lena could not see her, because Lena's eyes never left the water.

Finally, unwillingly, she turned to walk back down the beach, her legs shaky. The woman was gone, and so were the dolphins.

Lena felt the first tickle of belief in her belly: That was no human woman. That was a
mermaid.

A tiny laugh escaped her throat. Mermaids were
real.

She stopped and stared back at the sea. Was she really gone? Was it over, the moment of magic ended already?
Come back,
she thought.
Please.

The mermaid had been playing with the two dolphins, Lena was sure of it. Out there in the vast deep lived a fairy-tale creature who was real, who was alive. Who played with dolphins. Who probably ate and slept, because didn't all living things need to eat and sleep? Who lived alone ... or maybe with other mermaids! Lena's breath caught as she imagined a whole gathering of ... what did you call a group of mermaids? A mist of mermaids? A marvel of mermaids?