Josephine Against the Sea Read online

  It’s over … I missed the chance to make the winning run; I’ve let down the team, and myself. And Daddy.

  The O’Brien Primary players and supporters cheer and rush onto the field. Jared groans and covers his face with his hands. Coach Broomes slams his clipboard into the ground and stomps away. I search for Daddy in the stands, desperate for a sympathetic gaze, but he’s gone.

  I twist my head about until I see Daddy and Mariss walking toward me. Daddy’s head is bowed but Mariss is staring right at me, and then, her eyes flash yellow.

  I rub my eyes and when I take another look, Mariss’s eyes are normal, though her face has that smug expression.

  It must have been the sunlight.

  “The vile vixen. She’s free.”

  I turn to see Casper backing away, his face frozen in terror. He gawks at Mariss, snaps his precious twig in two, and forms a cross.

  “Our heaven, who art in father, hallowed be thy kingdom.” Casper whirls around and sprints so fast toward Coconut Hill that he may have qualified for the Olympic track team.

  Daddy holds out his arm and I hide my face in his side. He gives me two sympathetic taps on the shoulder. I can almost hear him say, “Dear dear, you tried your best.”

  All I can think about on the ride home is that ball stopping in midair. No one else seemed to notice, but I know I didn’t imagine it. Maybe the O’Brien players hid some kind of robotic chip inside the ball and used a remote to control its movement. But I have no proof, and I definitely can’t count on Coach Broomes to investigate. My blunder is the best excuse for him to deny me a place on his team. I press my face into my hands to stop myself from screaming. Whatever hope I have left of seeing the West Indies match with Daddy floats away, leaving a writhing ball of misery in its place.

  I want to hide under my pillow until this day is over.

  I step inside the house and notice two large black suitcases by the back door. Mariss unbuttons the top of her long-sleeved, frilly shirt. Her spiral pendant gleams against the lace. She moves toward one of the suitcases and unzips the top, searching through its contents.

  No no no no.

  Daddy clears his throat and steps next to Mariss. “Bean …”

  No no no no.

  Daddy’s mouth is moving, but I can’t hear a word. I turn to look at the picture of Mum on the TV stand; I need to see her laugh to calm my insides.

  But her picture is gone.

  I stare at the calendar on my wall. Thirteen days since Mariss moved in—thirteen days that have felt like thirteen years. I can’t stop thinking about all the strange things that have happened since she came into my life.

  She’s staying with us while her roof is being fixed but doesn’t know how long that’s going to take. She took Mum’s photo to her jeweler to have the frame polished and still hasn’t brought it back. All her meals look like the moss floating on top of a swamp; I even caught her trying out Mr. Pimples’s fish food, which she claims is “packed with nutrients.” She’s full of static electricity and her eyes flash yellow like spotlights.

  Casper saw it too. What is a “vile vixen”? I wish I could ask but no one’s seen him since the cricket match. I can’t believe I want Casper’s opinion, but who better to consult in this situation? A cricket ball stopped in midair, for goodness sake!

  I sigh, but then chide myself for being gullible. Even if vile vixens, soucouyants, duppies, or any folklore creatures were real, they would never choose to live in boring ol’ Fairy Vale.

  I toss my ball into the air for the umpteenth time and watch as gravity brings it down into my waiting hand. It’s official; this ball doesn’t freeze in midair. I’ve avoided Coach Broomes since the friendly match. I don’t want to give him the opportunity to officially tell me I didn’t make the cut for the team.

  Sand flies attack my legs, and I push aside my thoughts to get the insect spray. It’s time to dispose of all unwanted pests, and I’ll start with these bloodsuckers first, then figure out a way to get rid of Mariss so my life can return to normal.

  “Daddy! Where’s the spray?” I yell, scratching at the welts rising up on my skin. I barge into his bedroom. He sits on the bed, yawning, though it’s only eight p.m.

  I show him the red splotches on my skin. “You’ve been neglecting your fatherly duties! There’s no spray, no repellent in the house, nothing!”

  “Oh, Josie Sweets, don’t blame Vincey,” Mariss says, looking in a mirror. She adjusts her red robe and pats her afro into a perfect circle. “I had to get rid of those chemicals! We gonna use some natural products.”

  I’m speechless. Mariss brushes her hand against the wall. Why does she do this? Always rubbing against walls, counters, my daddy …

  “Lavender is a natural insect repellent, trust me.” She gets a bottle from the dresser and rubs me down with sweet-smelling oil. At that moment, another sand fly bites me through the thick layer of lavender oil. I slap at my arm and pull away from her.

  “I HATE this! These bugs need to die! YOU need to die!”

  Mariss exhales a long breath, so hot it could melt the plastic smile that’s still on her face. I am so surprised by its heat I forget my rage.

  “Josephine! That’s it.” Daddy grabs the cricket ball from my hand. Wait, is he confiscating my cricket ball? He’s threatened so many times, but he’s never actually done it. And with my savings gone and me avoiding Coach Broomes and the cricket field, who knows when I will be able to replace it.

  “I’m sorry, Josephine, but you ’ave to learn to be respectful,” he says in a firm, deliberate voice, as if he’s been rehearsing the speech. Then he leads me out of his bedroom, and guilt flashes across his face before he gently closes the door. The soft click snaps me out of my shock.

  He’s shut me out. We never lock doors in this house.

  I bang on his door, shouting his name. With every second that Daddy ignores me, our special bond slips further and further away, and I feel his devotion to me, to our family, crumbling apart. It’s like he’s forgetting me, forgetting us, just like how he’s forgotten Mum. My heart hardens so much it feels heavy, like a rock inside my chest.

  Without thinking, I storm out of the house and down the street. It’s only when the anger subsides that I realize I have no idea where I’m going.

  The full moon brightens the sky.

  I’ve never been outside this late and I try my best not to think about the Heartman, lurking in the darkness and waiting to shove me into his hearse.

  All the noises I hear from my bedroom window when I’m gazing at the stars now seem a lot more threatening. The crickets’ chirps seem frantic, as if they’re all warning me to go back indoors. A bird squawks like it’s being ripped in two. Even the howling wind sounds like ghouls moaning in misery. I become hyperaware of the fact that I am alone.

  The leaves on the mango trees tremble in the wind.

  Miss Mo has always warned me and Ahkai about douens—the spirits of children who died before they were baptized. They pass for normal children in the dark, but they have no face and their feet are turned backward.

  “Never, and I mean never, follow a child who’s calling your name! Especially if the sound coming from the bush!” she says with her bulging eyes open to their fullest. “Children that follow douens through the trees don’t ever come back.”

  “Josie …”

  I wheel around, my arms in a karate stance. I took one introductory class before losing interest.

  The streets are well lit and the road descends into a sharp corner, so I should be able to see anyone in the distance. But there’s no one around; even the park with four broken swings and rusty monkey bars is deserted. Nothing moves, except for a piece of caution tape fluttering in the wind by an open drain.

  A shadow flickers behind the bars, and I see the shape of a big afro.

  “Mariss?”

  The shadow makes strange twitchy movements in the darkness, and it warps into something like a giant octopus with tangled tentacles.
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br />   I yelp and fall back into the road, scrambling to get away from the area. The bottoms of my sneakers slide against the gravel and the sound is as loud as a nail scratching against a chalkboard in the silence.

  Then, bright headlights blind me. I’m going to be roadkill …

  I cover my face and wait for the impact, but it never comes. Nothing happens. The driver doesn’t say anything. There’s just silence. My heartbeat quickens again. I risk a peek through my fingers and see a big black vehicle.

  I hide my face again.

  It’s not a hearse … it’s not a hearse … there’s no such thing as the Heartman … there’s no such—

  “Young lady, what are you doing out this time of night?” says a deep, authoritative voice.

  My heart jumps out of my chest. I roll out of the road and hit into the sidewalk. When I look up, I see fluorescent green-and-blue squares at the side of the Jeep.

  It’s not the Heartman … it’s worse! It’s the po-po! A policeman looks out the window of the Jeep, frowning at me. His large round face almost blocks out the full moon.

  All the heat rushes out of my body, and I break into a cold sweat.

  The one time I’m out “after dark” and I get caught. To be honest, I don’t even know if it’s a crime. Suppose I have to spend the night in jail? Suppose they call my daddy and tell him to come bail me out? Omigod, I can’t even imagine how much trouble I’ll be in if he discovers I was out “after dark.” I’d prefer to spend the years in jail and let Daddy think I’d been kidnapped.

  I turn and pelt down the road toward my house.

  This was a bad idea. Even as I run, I know it. I am close to home when the police Jeep pulls up next to me. I stop running and, with a hung head, walk the last couple of feet to my house with them driving beside me. I feverishly pray they will let me go inside without making a scene.

  And that’s when they blast the sirens. The lights immediately turn on at Miss Mo’s.

  Busted.

  Two policemen step out of the Jeep in their gray-and-dark-blue uniform, their faces tense, like they’re in the middle of a tough math exam.

  Ahkai appears beside me with Simba in his hands, stroking his fur. Behind him is Miss Mo in a flower-print nightgown, with her hair in curlers and covered with a head tie.

  “Wuh gine on?” asks Miss Mo. “Somebody dead?”

  “Constable Cumberbatch here. This is my partner, Constable Jones.”

  Constable Jones breaks his silence with a voice much softer than I expect. “We found her loitering in the street, ma’am.”

  “I was not loitering! I just wanted a lil fresh air, that’s all.” I roll my eyes, hoping Miss Mo will see that everyone is overreacting, but Ahkai frowns at me.

  Mariss seems to appear out of nowhere. “Josie Sweets!” She runs toward me, her arms outstretched, and gives me a big hug. I’m overwhelmed by a weird salty smell. “I was so worried! Thank you, officers!”

  Miss Mo examines Mariss from top to bottom. “So you is Vincent new woman.”

  Mariss has on a light poncho dress, and her skin shines like it’s lathered in baby oil. On inspecting her, Constable Cumberbatch’s face transforms with a smile, from stern to almost juvenile.

  “Young lady, you shouldn’t worry your mother,” scolds Constable Cumberbatch.

  I plan to yell “It’s no big deal!” but instead, “She’s not my mother!” comes out of my mouth.

  There is an awkward silence. Mariss stiffens, and her whole body gets hot again, like an iron that’s just been plugged in. I pull away, checking to see if her skin has reddened, but she only has her cold, drawn smile.

  Miss Mo purses her lips in disapproval. “Where Vincent is though?”

  I look up at Daddy’s window. It’s still dark. How come the sirens didn’t wake him up?

  “Sleeping.” Mariss moves forward to shake Miss Mo’s hand. “Well, it was nice to meet you—Ow!”

  Lovable, tender, gentle Simba has scratched her hand. Mariss jumps back, and Simba lets out a long hiss. I didn’t expect Ahkai’s hunter training to be so effective, and neither did he, since he’s looking at Simba like the cat just yelled “hakuna matata.”

  I stroke Simba’s fur with new appreciation, and he calms down but keeps his eyes focused on Mariss. It’s my turn to look smug. Mariss nurses her hand and sneers at me and Simba.

  “That gine leave a scar,” Miss Mo warns. “Get lil Mercurochrome or—”

  “I’ll deal with it, thank you very much,” Mariss says in a disturbingly quiet voice. “It’s getting late and Josie has school in the morning. Good night.”

  She holds my hand in a firm grip and leads me inside. I tug my hand, but I can’t pull away. Her grip is as tight as a Jaws of Life.

  I look back and the officers are getting into their Jeep. Ahkai shrugs and follows Miss Mo back home. Simba, still in Ahkai’s arms, turns his face toward my house, staring at me and Mariss like we’re prey.

  Mariss releases my hand from her death grip once we’re inside and locks the door. I’m about to give her a piece of my mind when I notice the shipwreck in the fish tank is upside down and there is no sign of my fish.

  “Wait, where’s Mr. Pimples?”

  “Oh no, it must have been that cat,” says Mariss with fake concern. “Somebody must have left the door open.”

  I lift the shipwreck out of the tank and shake it, hoping Mr. Pimples will plop out and mouth, “Here I am!”

  Nothing.

  “Mr. Pimples …” I whisper. I dip my hand into the tank, running it through the tiny blue pebbles. Mucus blocks my nose, and I start to sniffle. I race upstairs to Daddy, desperate for him to comfort me.

  When I burst into his room, Daddy’s out cold, body straight like he’s in a coffin, not the usual catspraddled position with one foot hanging off the bed.

  “Daddy, Mr. Pimples is gone!” I shake his shoulders. “Daddy!”

  But he doesn’t wake up. I pummel him on the shoulders so hard that my fists hurt, my cries of “Daddy” getting higher and more frantic. Mucus runs down my nose, and my eyes burn.

  Why isn’t he waking up?!

  Is this how Daddy felt when he woke up and found Mum next to him, cold and silent? I put my ear to his chest and collapse against him in relief when I hear a faint heartbeat.

  I race to the door, but Mariss blocks the doorway.

  “Something wrong with Daddy!” I scream, trying to push her aside. But she grips my shoulder with an iron hand and gently cups my face with the other. The light in her eyes shifts like the moon behind a cloud.

  “Let it go, Josie.”

  “Move, woman!” I struggle to get away, anxious to call for an ambulance.

  “Josie, you have to learn to be respectful. I just want us to be a happy family,” she says in a matter-of-fact, casual tone, as if my daddy isn’t on death’s door. “You have so much to be grateful for.”

  Then, Mariss whispers in a voice so soft I have to read her lips to hear the words. “Wake up, Vincey.”

  Daddy jumps up from the bed like a fire alarm went off in his ears. “Wh-What? Wuh ’appen?”

  “Daddy!” I launch myself into his arms. He lifts me up and carries me to my room. I turn my face away from Mariss as we pass by.

  “It’s okay, Bean,” he says, kissing me on top of my head and lying down next to me. “You just ’ad a bad dream.” He hums his weird falsetto tune while I lie on his chest, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat.

  I can still feel Mariss’s hot breath. The ghost of her tight grip lingers around my wrist. I see Mariss’s silent whisper of “Wake up, Vincey” over and over again. There’s no logical explanation for everything that happened tonight.

  Mariss isn’t just an annoying girlfriend; she’s much more threatening than that. I struggle to make sense of my thoughts.

  It’s unbelievable, but I think Mariss may not be human.

  Everyone around me is clapping and laughing, but I am worried.

  It’s been twe
lve days since the “after dark incident” and I’ve been watching and waiting for something out of the ordinary to happen. It’s like waiting for an explosion, except you’re not sure if there’s even a bomb or when it will detonate.

  This frilly red dress with a big white bow tied at the back—a gift from Mariss—does nothing to improve my mood. I keep silent while everyone fawns over me, talking about how adorable I look. Every compliment feels like an insult; I had planned to wear my new romper, but instead I’m here sweating in this potpourri outfit.

  Daddy was surprised when I agreed to wear the dress, along with Mariss’s necklace with the spiral pendant, without putting up a fuss. He still doesn’t know about the “after dark incident,” and maybe before all this my choice of wardrobe would have been a battle worth fighting for. Now I have bigger fish to fry, and I need to keep close watch to find out exactly what kind of fish I’m dealing with.

  I focus on Mariss and Daddy in the middle of the dance floor. Of course, Mariss looks dazzling in a simple white-lace wrap dress, with her hair pulled back in a bun. I could swear you aren’t supposed to wear white to weddings; I think it’s an insult to the bride. Together, they look like the newly married couple.

  I shiver in my seat.

  Something is different about Daddy …

  I stare at him, my lips pressed together in concentration. He’s changed from his standard stained T-shirt and old jeans to a black tuxedo. He’s also gotten a haircut and his beard trimmed.

  But it’s something else.

  I glance at the bride, Ramona. She’s busy taking selfies with her bridesmaids. Ramona is one of Miss Mo’s many sisters, or is she her cousin? Ahkai’s family is so large it’s hard to keep track. Apparently, Miss Mo tried to set up Ramona and Daddy when we first moved next door, but I would throw my Barbie doll at Ramona’s head whenever she came over. I look at her now, laughing with her new husband, and wonder if it should be my daddy feeding her cake instead.

  An old man in a baggy silver three-piece suit hobbles over to Ramona for his photo opportunity, and that’s when it hits me.