Immortal Grave (29 page)

“Ben!” Marion had a hand over her eyes to shade them from the light peeking through the clouds. “Look over there.”

Turning his head in the direction she was pointing, he grimaced. There were several deep water buoys tangled together in what looked like a fishing net. Something was thrashing about and a pitiful keening noise reached his ears. Without thought he turned the Whaler in the direction of the trouble and sped toward the struggling animal. As they drew near, he cut the throttle and coasted next to the mess.

The loud squeal of a dolphin caught his attention and he leaned over the edge of the boat to see how badly the animal was hurt. A large, old style fishing net was wrapped around the buoys and the dolphin stuck inside thrashed when he tried to pull on the line wrapped around its tail. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his multi-tool and flicked out the knife. Slowly and carefully, he began to cut the net away from the dolphin’s tail and dorsal fin.

“Marion, come over here and pull the net closer. We’re drifting.” Something shiny flashed next to the dolphin and he paused to examine it a little closer, worried that there might be something in the net that could hurt the dolphin even more. Tilting his head, he moved a little closer to try and get a better look. Reaching his fingers into the net he prodded the shiny material and was shocked when it felt soft under his fingers. “Marion, where are you? There’s something stuck in this net with the dolphin.” She didn’t respond and he tore his gaze away from the net to look over his shoulder. “Marion?”

“Do you hear that, Ben?” She was looking over the opposite side of the boat in confusion.

“Hear what?” Keeping his hand on the net so that the dolphin’s blowhole didn’t dip under the water, he kept his eyes locked on his wife. Something in her expression had made his heart skip a beat. It was fear and determination.

“It sounds like a baby.” Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her over the water splashing against the boat. Shaking her head, she turned around to him and bit her lip for a minute. Taking a deep breath, she moved over next to him and grabbed firmly onto the net.

Not sure what to say, he looked back at the dolphin and pointed to the shiny area underneath. “See that? I’ve never see anything like it before. It almost looks like a scale, but it’s soft.”

Marion leaned over and he could see the scientist take over her mind. “Maybe it’s not an animal. It could be some type of trash that was swept away in the storm. Finish cutting the dolphin free and then we’ll find out.”

He slid the knife back to the net that was wrapped around the animal and carefully began to remove the old ropes. He made soothing sounds as he worked, and was careful to not knick the dolphin, which was hard with the waves rocking the boat. The sound of another dolphin surfacing surprised him and he stabbed his knuckle. Muttering a curse, he looked to his right and smiled. There, floating next to the boat was a small dolphin. If he had to guess, he would say it was only a couple of months old.

“Look, Marion.”

“Oh, we’ve got to get the mother loose.” Moving her hands so that she had a better grip on the ropes, Marion smiled softly at the young dolphin. “Hurry, Ben.”

Renewing his efforts, he was able to get the dolphin’s tail free, and was rewarded with a mighty flick toward his face. Leaning back, he made shushing noises and looked over at his wife. She had leaned closer to the dolphin and was whispering words of encouragement. Carefully, she moved her hand so that it could unloop the net wrapped around the dorsal fin before slowly working it over the dolphin’s head. Together they helped free the mother and watched as she turned to nose her baby.

Marion’s eyes stayed on the pair, tears dripping down her face to run along her soft smile. Reaching over to grab her hand, Ben laced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward him. She leaned into him for a moment and then pulled away gently. A soft mewling sound drifted over the water to his ears and his wife tensed.

“I’m okay. I’m going to get the first aid kit and see if she will let me look at her back. She had some lacerations that didn’t look so good.” Marion patted his hand before moving toward the back of the boat. He watched her for a moment to make sure that she really was okay and then turned back to the mess next to his boat. He would have to call the coast guard to let them know about the buoys, but he might be able to get the net out of the water before anything else was caught. There was also the question of what had been under the dolphin.

Grabbing the net he hauled it toward him with a grunt. Something in the net shifted and he jumped back with a grunt. His heartbeat sped up and he looked quickly over his shoulder toward his wife. She was kneeling and speaking softly to the dolphin. Swallowing convulsively, he moved back to the net and peered down at the sad face looking up at him with sightless eyes. Red hair lapped around her face and his eyes drifted down to where her body seemed to taper off. At first his mind wouldn’t grasp what his eyes were seeing. He stared and stared, but it just didn’t make sense. It was as if his brain refused to process what he was seeing. It shouldn’t be possible; it wasn’t possible and yet there was all of the proof that his scientific brain could ever want.

“Ben?” Marion moved next to him and gasped. She leaned over the edge of the boat and pulled at the net. “What are you doing? Help her!”

Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her away from the woman in the water. “Stop, Marion. She’s already dead.”

She covered her mouth and looked away. That strange mewling sound floated over the water again, making his shoulders tense while he held his wife closely. After a moment, Marion looked back at the woman tangled in the net and frowned. Getting back on her knees she reached for the net. He started to stop her, but understood what she was being drawn to.

“Careful.” Leaning down next to her, he cut the ropes away from the woman’s face and watched as his wife gently unwrapped some seaweed from the net so that they could see better.

“Is this real? Can this be real?” Marion gently touched the soft, supple scales. Her face was pinched in astonishment and sadness. “A mermaid?”

Not sure how to answer that question, Ben shook his head. He didn’t tear his eyes from the mythical creature in front of him until the injured dolphin swam next to the boat and made a mournful sound. Looking into the sad eye of a generally upbeat animal made his heart clench.

“Marion?” He nodded his head toward the dolphin.

“Oh. I can almost feel how sad she is.” Marion ran a hand over the dolphins back. “What do we do? Should we take the… body… back with us?”

Under her words, Ben could hear Marion’s disgust and confusion over what would happen to the poor mermaid that they had found. Looking from the dead eyes of the woman floating in the water to the soulful eyes of the dolphin made up his mind.

“We cut her adrift. I can only imagine that she would normally be at rest in the sea.” As if there was no other option, he began hacking at the rest of the ropes around the woman’s tail.

“You’re right.” Carefully, Marion moved some of the hair back from the mermaids face and closed her eyes.

After what seemed like hours of carefully cutting the netting away, they were able to see what had caused the death of the beautiful creature. Tangled in the ropes and pinned between the buoys, a large piece of wood had punctured her side. Carefully, he pulled the offending chunk out of her side and tossed it into the boat. As they pulled her body out next to the boat, the injured dolphin swam near enough to gently touch the mermaids arm with her snout. Marion washed some of the blood from her hands in the sea and watched sadly as the dolphin made another mournful sound.

After a moment, the mermaid’s body started to drift away from the boat and the dolphin kept pace. When he could no longer see them, Ben turned back to his wife and shook his head. He wondered if they would question this time years down the road. It was insane, impossible, and yet they had touched a mermaid, and let her body float out to sea. If they had brought the body back to shore, the discovery would have saved their refuge. It would have brought in hundreds of thousands of much needed money.

“We did the right thing.” With a relaxed grin, Marion turned to pick up the mess from the first aid kit. His heart felt lighter, as if her small smile had undone clamps that had been wrapped around him. Deciding that it was time to alert the Coast Guard about the buoys, he moved toward the radio on the large center console. As he picked up the hand held receiver, the mewling sounded over the wind. It was louder this time, and sounded as if it was coming from nearby. Turning to see if his wife had heard it, he saw the dolphin and her baby coming along the side of the boat. Marion leaned over the edge and gasped. She dropped to her knees and reached over the side.

“Marion!” Sliding along the wet deck, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder.

“Ben, it’s a baby.” Looking up at him, Marion gave a mighty sniff and looked back at the water with large eyes. “They brought her to us.”

Looking down into the water, he clutched the edge of the boat until his knuckles turned white. There in the water with the two gentle dolphins was a tiny mermaid. No, that wasn’t right. It was a young mermaid. If he had to compare it to a human child he would say it was roughly the age of a toddler. Perhaps a year old, but not much more. Her dark hair drifted around her head and shoulders as she shifted to float on her back. He couldn’t help but stare at the gorgeous teal tail that matched her tear filled eyes.

Marion made a soft cooing sound and the small little mermaid shifted her gaze to hers. Ben watched as the child’s face seemed to brighten, a smile pushing at her plump cheeks. With a tiny hand, she reached out toward Marion and made an impatient sound. When Marion responded in kind, the mother dolphin swam forward and made a threatening sound.

“Marion.” He said her name in warning, scared that perhaps the dolphin hadn’t intended to bring the child to their boat after all.

“Shh. She brought her to us for a reason. She just wants us to understand how important this is.” Slowly she lowered her hand to the dolphin and looked the animal in the eye. “We understand. We will take care of her. I promise that I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is never hurt.”

Holding his breath, he waited while the dolphin seemed to ponder his wife’s words. After a moment, she moved closer to Marion and used her snout to push at her hand.

“I promise.” His wife said the words quietly, before reaching for the tiny tike with a tail. Pulling her out of the water, she cuddled the small mermaid to her chest and made soothing noises. The mermaid’s small hand reached up to touch Marion’s cheek. Moving closer, he leaned over his wife’s shoulder and looked into the bright blue eyes of the little mermaid. When she turned her shy smile in his direction and waved her pudgy fingers, he was lost. In one short afternoon his entire life had been turned upside down. His home had been destroyed. He had seen a mermaid. And now he was a father.

A Preview from

Inherit

By

Liz Reinhardt

© 2012 by Liz Reinhardt

All rights reserved worldwide under the Berne Convention.

May not be copied or distributed without prior written permission.

Cover Design by Stephanie Mooney

Chapter One

When the box passes from the airport customs clerk’s hands to mine, the weight shifts so suddenly, I have to throw one hip out to offset it.

Japanese characters have been stamped all over, haphazardly. I guess they mark the long trip this box made and maybe advertise some dire warnings, too. It’s the first thing I’ve ever received from my relatives in Japan. I actually didn’t think they even acknowledged my existence, and, honestly, I wish they’d started our family gift exchange with a warning phone call or a nice, boring card.

A mysterious voicemail from the airport directing me to immediately pick up an even more mysterious box with almost no other information is just exhausting and kind of rude. My schedule is pretty tight, and I just don’t have time to scurry over to the notoriously congested airport just because some old relative wants to pass an heirloom, or whatever, my way.

But I’m here now, and I have the box, so I decide to make the best of it and get home as fast as I can. This day has already bordered on depressingly exhausting, and I need to check on my grandmother sooner than later.

“Uh, it moved.” I address the statement to the man behind the scarred counter, sour as a bag of lemons and dull as a turnip. He is a feast of unpleasantness, and he clearly wants me to leave quickly and without a fuss.

“It has air holes.” He waggles his pen at me and sighs. “Watch out for urine.”

“Excuse me?” I hold the squirming box far out in front of me, and my arms shake from the effort.

“Urine.” He stretches the word so it bounces and echoes off of the grey walls and dirty, blue chipped laminate counters.

“I’m sorry?” I’m positive I must be mishearing him. He didn’t just tell me to watch for pee. Did he?

He absently flicks one of those nasty pens that don’t work, but are attached by chains like you might bother to steal them. “If it has air holes, it urinates. It will go right through that cardboard.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” I back away fast and we exchange smiles. It’s the first and last time he or I smiled during our brief meeting. Parting is such sweet pleasure! Good-bye grouchy airport employees, dismal, rundown airport desk and pacing, grumbling passengers and hello whatever is breathing and possibly urinating inside this box from Japan.

The air outside is wonderful, cool and fresh on my face— a tall, icy glass of water after the gritty desert of that abysmal set of offices. I walk briskly to my truck, shivering in the air that plunges from refreshing to downright icy on my skin in a few seconds. I should have worn a damn coat, but I thought I’d be able to tough it out since it’s technically almost spring.

When I get to my truck, I check the box for pee, and then shake it gently, side to side. I try to navigate one eye close to the air holes to peek in, but I’m afraid of a beak jabbing me or a claw scratching me. Because I’m more of a chicken than I am curious about this ‘gift,’ I don’t get any solid clues about what exactly this is. No pee, only the sound of scratching, like tiny nails scraping the cardboard. I yank the passenger door shut, shimmy over to the driver’s seat, and call my best friend. One hand on the phone, one on the wheel, I back up and pull out carefully, praying my unreliable truck won’t break down before I make it home.