Josephine Against the Sea Read online

  I look at Mariss, assuming she’ll be focused on Daddy, but instead she’s squatting on the sand, trying to catch her breath like she’s just run a marathon.

  I follow her eyes up to my throat, and I can’t help but touch the empty area by my neck.

  Oh no … I threw away her special treasure.

  I rush to get the pendant, but it’s too late. The fierce tide covers the jewelry, and it would be so easy to pluck it out of the wave, but I can’t bring myself to touch the water.

  The tide goes back out, taking the pendant with it. Mariss watches it disappear, and her face crumples like a piece of paper. She reaches her hand out toward the ocean, but nothing happens. The sea remains rough; the only salt water she now controls is the tear running down her cheek. She drops onto the sand and shoves her hands in her hair in angst.

  Guilt runs through me. Mariss just saved Daddy’s life—I don’t know how, but it was her—and I repay her by throwing away her special gift.

  Mariss slowly gets to her feet, trembling, and wipes the tear away. Then she turns to me with clenched fists, breathing so hard I can almost see smoke coming from her nostrils. Her anger seems to pull all the heat from the air, and I shiver, wrapping my hands around my body.

  She marches away and I take a step after her, but then decide not to follow.

  I still don’t know what Mariss really wants, but it’s clear she genuinely cares about my daddy. It’s also clear she has the power to get rid of anyone who pisses her off.

  After today, I’m worried the next person on her list is me.

  I tried to tell one of the paramedics about the lionfish, but he didn’t believe me.

  “There aren’t any lionfish in this area,” he said, “and they live on the reef.” Then he looked around at the crowd. “Did anyone else see what happened?”

  He was right. Normal lionfish don’t go near the Hot Pot, and they also don’t jump. But I’ve seen Mariss somehow control the seawater—it’s not far-fetched that she controls the fish in the sea too. Then I remembered Miss Mo’s belief that the fish are these creatures’ children. Mariss must have sent the lionfish to attack Miss Alleyne after the volleyball match … and I may be her next victim.

  Daddy insisted on riding in the ambulance with Miss Alleyne, so Mariss and I are alone in the house, waiting for him to return. I shut and lock my bedroom door for the first time, but I am still very aware of her presence.

  She walked right past me on the bus, not even sparing a look. I should go apologize—now more than ever, I have to stay on her good side until I can find out how to get rid of her, but I’m nervous and scared. I’m haunted by images of Daddy disappearing under a wave, Miss Alleyne floating facedown in the water, Mariss’s tear …

  When Daddy gets home from the hospital, he tells me Miss Alleyne is still alive, but in a coma. “Nobody ain’ know when she gine wake up,” he says in a tired voice. “All we can do is pray.”

  I stay up all night reading again, desperate for new information. So far I know Mariss has the power to put people into trances, heal bruises, and control the seawater and fish, though I still don’t know how she stopped a cricket ball in midair. But none of these things reveal how to get rid of her.

  When I check the time, it is after five in the morning and I still haven’t learned anything new about Sea Mummas. I feel so hopeless; there has to be another way to discover Mariss’s weaknesses.

  I drag myself downstairs to make some bay leaf tea, and to my surprise, Daddy and Mariss are both sitting at the dining table. No one utters a word; there’s just the sound of breathing and spoons clinking on ceramic bowls. It’s clear they’ve been arguing.

  “Morning, Bean,” Daddy says with zero enthusiasm.

  “Good morning, Josephine.”

  What? No Josie Sweets? I’m not sure how to react. Last week I would have given my two front teeth to get Mariss to call me by my birth name. Now I look at her blank, straight face and dread fills my belly.

  I still have to apologize. I don’t want her to hurt anyone else.

  Daddy rolls the wrinkled sleeves of his shirt over his elbows and he brushes Mariss’s black jewelry case by mistake. Mariss gives him a side-eye and moves the case from the table to the ground.

  “There’s breakfast in the kitchen,” says Daddy.

  I hurry away, glad for a reason to escape the tension, and notice a big two-layer chocolate cake with pink frosting on the counter.

  I scratch my cheek and rub my eyes. Why is there cake for breakfast?

  “Happy birthday!” Daddy shouts.

  I can’t believe I forgot my birthday. Daddy and Mariss sing the happy birthday song but I barely hear them. Mariss has sucked all the joy out of my life; she’s consumed my thoughts so much that even now, I don’t feel an ounce of excitement for my special day.

  “Now, Bean, I didn’t get the laptop,” Daddy says, placing a hand on my cheek. “But it’s the first thing I gine buy when I get a little extra.”

  I nod, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

  “And today, guess where we going?” Daddy is so excited he doesn’t wait for me to guess. “The zoo!”

  “Zoo?” Mariss and I say at the same time.

  “Well, the Wildlife Reserve,” says Daddy. “I know you love animals, and it would cheer up Ahkai.”

  I sigh. I’m not in the mood to celebrate, and I’m not sure Ahkai will want to come with us, even if it’s my birthday. Being around all those animals will no doubt remind him of Simba. I had Mr. Pimples for a little over three years, and I still can’t bring myself to change the water.

  Daddy squeezes my shoulder. “I know it’s tough, especially after what ’appen yesterday, but this is a reminder to celebrate life when you can.”

  “What kind of life is that?” We both turn to Mariss in surprise. “I hate to see poor animals trapped in cages. It’s—it’s barbaric and cruel! How would you feel if your freedom was just taken away?”

  I’ve never seen her so flustered. Now I definitely want to go to the Wildlife Reserve. Maybe she has a deathly fear of green monkeys …

  “Sisi.” Daddy puts an arm around her shoulder. “It’s a reserve. They’re free to walk around everywhere.”

  “Walk around? You know I have allergies.” Mariss strokes Daddy’s beard. “Can’t we just carry a nice packed lunch to the park?”

  “Just take an antihistamine. We’ll go to Farley Hill tomorrow, just the two of us.” Daddy gives her a kiss on the cheek and then shakes out his leg. His knee is acting up again.

  “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” I say, making an effort to show support, but she ignores me.

  “Bean masala for breakfast?” she asks, tightening her robe. My stomach churns at the thought of another portion of tasteless soya chunks.

  I look at Daddy with pleading eyes. “Can we have real pancakes, please, Daddy?” I miss Sunday morning pancakes, made with cassava flour and cinnamon.

  To my surprise, Daddy agrees. “Sisi, just do the masala for yourself. Bean and I will ’ave pancakes.”

  Excited, I turn to get ingredients before he changes his mind, but I stop in my tracks when I see Mariss’s face. It has not changed, but now her dark brown eyes are light brown, with flecks of green.

  I back into the kitchen, feeling along the counter for a weapon, not wanting to take my eyes off Mariss. I still don’t know the full extent of her powers so I have to move with caution. My roving hand stumbles upon a wooden handle.

  “Knife?”

  I jump when Mariss holds out her hand, and my fingers close around the butcher knife. With a cold smile, Mariss twirls an onion in her other hand.

  “Can you pass the knife?” Mariss repeats.

  Before I can respond, Daddy pulls the knife from my hand and gives it to Mariss. Then he hums and gathers the ingredients for pancakes, blind to the uneasiness in the room. I breathe out when Mariss starts to chop the onion, and attempt to help Daddy while keeping out of her way.

  “T
his is my mom’s recipe.” I try to make conversation as a kind of peace offering. “With a secret ingredient.”

  “I can keep a secret,” Mariss says, pushing the chopped onion aside. A tiny smile breaks through her icy demeanor.

  Why did I say that? I pretend to focus on cracking the eggs. I’m trying to be apologetic, but I’m not ready to share so much yet.

  “Well, you tell me, then,” Mariss says to Daddy after I refuse to respond. I tense up, knowing he will spill the beans.

  Daddy laughs and ruffles my hair. “I’m sure Bean will tell you eventually.” I relax, surprised that he hasn’t given away our secret.

  BOOM! Mariss slams the knife onto the chopping board, and I dive to the floor, taking the carton of eggs with me. Her force was so strong that the blade is lodged inside the wood.

  “Sisi, everything okay?” Daddy asks, concerned. I stay perfectly still. I’m within range of the knife. I’m taking no chances.

  Mariss forces a smile. “Just a little tired. Been exerting myself … giving a lot.”

  “Come sit down.” Daddy pulls out a stool at the bar. I scramble to my feet, sliding on the slimy egg yolks.

  “I need a bath,” replies Mariss. She pulls the knife out of the board with ease and then slips out of the kitchen. I expect Daddy to go after her, but he shrugs and continues to mix the batter.

  After hearing the bathroom door slam, I calm down and start to clean the mess on the floor. I don’t remember the last time Daddy and I were able to spend time alone. I want to ask everything and say nothing all at once.

  All of a sudden, I remember one of Jared’s Ossie Moore jokes.

  “Daddy, Ossie Moore was fishing with a friend, when the boat suddenly caught a leak and started to sink. Ossie Moore jumped overboard, leaving behind his friend, who couldn’t swim.”

  I pause. Daddy’s already smiling in anticipation of the punch line.

  He’s such a nerd.

  I miss him.

  “Ossie Moore, exhausted from the swim, pulled himself on shore and said, ‘Good, I save myself … now to go back and save he.’ ”

  Daddy roars with laughter, banging the kitchen counter with his fist. His delight shoves my angst aside and I burst into giggles.

  “Thanks, Daddy,” I say when we’ve composed ourselves. I add vinegar to the evaporated milk to make buttermilk.

  “For what?”

  “For not telling Mariss about the cinnamon.”

  “Cinnamon?” Daddy stops slicing the bananas.

  “Mum’s secret ingredient.” I shoot him a look of disbelief. I can’t believe he forgot.

  Daddy shakes his head. “No, Bean, it isn’t just cinnamon. The secret ingredient is nutmeg.”

  What?

  Daddy massages his forehead. “No wonder it taste different … I just thought …” Daddy’s voice trails off, and his eyes get the glassy look.

  “Come back, Daddy, please.” I want to know more but I’m scared of losing him.

  Daddy looks down at me, puzzled. “I ain’ going nowhere, Bean.” He kisses me on the forehead, and continues to slice the fruit.

  “I met your mum in Grenada, at a food festival. All the food stalls ’ad to feature nutmeg in the dishes, and she bake a red snapper in coconut milk. I can still taste it,” he says, smacking his lips. “I ’ad to meet the chef.”

  I am bursting with excitement from this new information. “Mum was a chef?”

  Daddy looks at me, eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you know that!” Before I can answer, he says to himself, “Then again, ’ow could you?”

  Daddy sighs and tilts his head to the ceiling. Then he laughs.

  “What? What?” I ask, eager to hear more.

  “Your mum taught me everything. Before I met her, I could barely cook the fish I catch. One time, I remember trying to make fish soup. Don’t ask me ’ow yuh does burn soup.” He laughs again and I laugh with him.

  “And your mum looooved dumplings. Even more than me!”

  “But Daddy, you don’t love dumplings.” If he loves dumplings, why does he insist on having only one at a time?

  “Bean, nobody could come between your mum and dumplings! I used to take one and leave the rest for ’er.” Daddy shrugs his shoulders. “I guess I never ’ad the ’eart to take more after she, you know …” he says, his voice trailing off again. He gives the batter a taste.

  I am stunned. I might as well have been told I was adopted.

  Daddy and I reach for the nutmeg at the same time. He smiles and gestures for me to shake the spice into the batter. Then, he scoops the batter into the frying pan.

  “You know she used to play squash?” Daddy continues. “And was real competitive! Never backed down from a challenge. Even travel to St. Lucia to represent Barbados.”

  I must get my love for sports from Mum as well as Daddy! Warmth spreads through my chest at the thought of her slamming a ball into the air. I try to remember the list of questions I had for Mum for when I see her in heaven, but none come to mind, so I stay quiet, listening to Daddy talk about her. All his memories become my own.

  Daddy puts a pancake on a plate and squirts maple syrup on top. “Taste this.”

  I close my eyes and put a forkful into my mouth. As I chew, I get a clear image of my mummy, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, wearing a dirty yellow apron. She is laughing—I can hear it! It’s like a guffaw, a wheeze, one of those laughs that goes in and out as the person catches their breath.

  My eyes burn, and it becomes difficult to breathe through my nose.

  “Good?” Daddy asks, waiting for my feedback.

  I nod and put another piece of pancake into my mouth. It tastes like home. I close my eyes again, hoping to jolt another memory.

  Being able to spend the morning with my daddy, eating pancakes and learning about my mummy—this is the birthday present I didn’t know I wanted.

  To my surprise, Miss Mo tells us Ahkai will come to the Wildlife Reserve. Before heading to his house, I pause at Mr. Pimples’s empty tank, wrinkling my nose at the mossy water. I poke the overturned shipwreck, part of me still hoping that Mr. Pimples is playing a champion game of hide-and-seek.

  The boat shifts to the side, and I notice something trapped underneath it. It’s transparent, and floating, like a jellyfish tentacle.

  Is it a piece of plastic bag? Some moss?

  I bring my face closer and plunge my hand into the tank. I tug on it but it doesn’t budge; it’s like it’s glued on to the ship. This thing is stronger than it looks. I yank at the tentacle so hard that I fall over and hit into one of the stools.

  “Bean?” Daddy calls from upstairs.

  I rush through the door, twirling the tentacle around my finger, examining its diamond-like pattern, and shove it in my pocket.

  Ahkai is sitting at the kitchen table, focused on Miss Mo yapping on the phone. He jumps up when he notices me, his eyes bright and full of life. I never thought I’d see him looking happy again so soon. I fight the urge to throw my arms around him.

  “Miss Alleyne woke up!” he cries. It’s the first time he’s spoken to me in days.

  Yes! Relief rushes through me.

  Ahkai and I stare at each other with goofy smiles and clear consciences. It almost feels like all is right with the world again.

  “I can’t believe it! Lionfish don’t attack nobody. She had to accidentally step on a dead one.”

  Lionfish?

  Miss Mo notices me gawking at her and pulls the receiver from her ear. “Jo! Miss Alleyne say she get sting by lionfish and couldn’t move she body. I can’t believe it.”

  Ahkai clarifies for me, “The venom from the fish spine causes temporary paralysis and extreme pain.”

  “Tell the doctor boil some soursop leaves and give she to drink,” Miss Mo instructs the person on the line.

  I don’t gloat about being right or point out that nobody listened to me. Mariss has to be stopped, and I can’t do it alone.

  I gesture for Ahkai to follow
me outside into the yard, and I pull the tentacle from my pocket.

  “What’s this?” I ask him. “I found it in Mr. Pimples’s tank.”

  Ahkai examines it, rubbing the tentacle between his fingers. “I am not sure. It feels scaly.”

  “It’s evidence! That’s what it is.”

  Silence.

  I plead my case again. “You know it’s not logical for lionfish to be in the Hot Pot.”

  Ahkai nods. “The heated temperature in the Hot Pot alone should deter them from that environment.”

  “Bad things happen to people who Mariss hates.” I fill him in on Mrs. Edgecombe’s details about the mythology. Ahkai stares at me, then the tentacle, up at me again, and bites his lip.

  He doesn’t believe me.

  “But all the evidence adds up,” I say in a small voice. “It doesn’t make sense, but it all adds up.”

  “The mind is powerful enough to manifest fears into reality,” he replies. “Is there the slightest possibility that you are so scared for Uncle Vince to be in a relationship, that you imagined all these supernatural signs?”

  Dejected, I flop down on the step.

  Ahkai sits next to me. “Mums are cool, you know.”

  I think about earlier this morning, when Daddy gifted me with new memories of Mummy. He’s never been able to speak about her before. What changed?

  Mariss …

  The day Mariss came into our lives, Daddy was able to talk about Mum and, for the first time, remove a bit of her presence from the closet. Since then, Mariss must have cured more than a bad knee; she’s healing him from the inside. That’s why it’s easier for Daddy to talk about Mum; Mariss’s devotion is easing his inner pain.

  If only she were human …

  “Oh, I nearly forgot,” Ahkai says. He lifts his chain off and puts it around my neck.

  “Tanjoubi omedetou!” he cries, and adds, “that’s ‘happy birthday’ in Japanese.”

  My mouth drops open, and I hold the hummingbird in my hand. “Your lucky charm.”

  “Your lucky charm. Now I have this.” He pulls out a similar chain, but he’s whittled a sleeping cat.