It was not an
unreasonable assumption. He’d been on the island for ninety days now, give or
take. He hadn’t kept track at first, his arrival a blur of heat and pounding
headaches and denial. It was like he’d left his body and was watching someone
else perform one series of grim tasks after another.
Plus, the creature
he’d just glimpsed had resembled Jenna. For a second, he’d thought it was Jenna,
her copper-bright hair distinct against the blue sea, only about twenty yards
off the south side of the island. He’d almost called out to her, but then she’d
arched her body in a dolphin dive and he could see where the fair skin graded
into silvery scales. He’d watched as she’d disappeared beneath the surface,
astonished at the length of her fishy lower body.
He kept the
binoculars trained on the reef. A few minutes later, the mermaid emerged again
in the shallows, foraging among the sponges and polyps. Her movements reminded
him of a deer hovering at the edge of a clearing, nosing around in the clover. The
mermaid scooped something out of the water into her mouth. It was too small for
him to make out what it was. Her hand had pale, almost translucent webbing
between the fingers.
She was there for
less than ten minutes. When she finished grazing, she turned and glided back
out into the open water. Again, she dove. This time, she did not resurface.
Stunned, he
lowered the binoculars. “Whoo, boy, Jenna,” he muttered. “You’re not gonna
believe this.”
