Well, here am I with a new chapter of 'Seas Of Change', the first one I get out since the premiere of Season 3 (4 on Netflix). To those who might be wondering, I have already watched the season... and honestly, it was kind of a mixed bag in the end. There were things about it that I liked, but there were also things I disliked, enough so that I don't regret having deliberately taken the AU path with this story. Again, I may incorporate elements of it in future chapters, but for the most part I am sticking to this AU.
To whoever is an H2O fan, as of today this story is part of a universe titled 'Shifting Tides', of which 'Aratoro', my H2O story that will be out shortly, also is a part.
Now that this is out of the way, let us begin.
Chapter 8 – Mermen's Fears
Much to Chris' relief, both theories he developed regarding his situation had worked.
First of all, his legs had indeed returned after he managed to dry himself; incredibly, the clothes he had been wearing when he got his merman tail had also come back. Of course, that was only valid for as long as he remained dry; if he got wet, even if it was only a single drop, his tail would return ten seconds after he touched water, and would stay there for as long as he was wet. That would complicate a lot of things in his life. For instance, he would, at best, have to be extremely careful washing the dishes or doing the laundry, and he could no longer go to the beach or to any swimming pool. Even things like walking by a garden with its sprinklers turned on or ending up in a building with those fire alarms that squirted water had now become dangerous. But still, it had to be better than ending up permanently stuck with a merman tail. At least this way he could actually go to his grandfather and tell him that he was alright, even if he never told him about his 'new side', for lack of a better description.
The second thing that made him feel better was that his guess regarding the direction he had to travel towards was right. After a little over an hour of travel, he managed to get back to San Diego. He didn't manage to find Seaport Village, but he managed to find a dock, and tie the boat up by it; thankfully, there hadn't been any police looking for him or for the stolen vessel. And a few minutes later, after getting to a road, he managed to take a taxi back to the White Shells Hostel, which the marine park had booked for those on the dolphin program.
Still, it was only when he got close to a now familiar beach and saw the three-floor building with white walls where everyone of the dolphin training program had been staying that Chris let out the massive sigh of relief that had been building for the whole trip. Even then, it was somewhat marred by the fact that just about everyone else at the dolphin program – a grand total of eight people, not counting him and Karl – was already outside with their bags packed and ready to go, standing or sitting by the mini-bus they had booked for the trip. Over half of them, both boys and girls, the youngest around Chris age, the oldest in their late twenties, looked quite grumpy, as if they had been waiting a long time. Only a few of them smiled when they saw Chris arriving on the cab; everyone else looked ready to clobber him. But Chris, heedless of any of them, simply paid the taxi driver and rushed into the hostel, sparing an apologetic grin and a quick apology to everyone else as he raced in.
As he got to the corridor, he raced over the blue and white tiles and got into the second door to the left. Like he expected, all the beds were already made, and Karl was sitting on one of them, his whole body shaking as if containing his impatience, and both his and Chris' bags already packed and standing beside him.
When he saw Chris, he stood up like a snake lashing out, but the aggressiveness was belied by the relief in his eyes.
"Chris!" Karl shouted. "Thank goodness you're here!"
He then stomped over to Chris and engulfed him in a hug that threatened to crack half his ribs. Chris grunted in pain, but returned it all the same and with equal strength; it was great to actually be back here to do it.
"Where have you been?" Karl shouted after the hug ended. "I was worried sick!"
Chris averted his eyes from Karl, an edge of guilt stabbing at him. Karl was his best friend. If anyone deserved to know about what had happened, he'd rank very high on the list. But unfortunately, Karl was also someone who simply could never know about his new merman tail. If he ever learned of it, it was far too likely that he would tell that secret to the one person that simply could never find out about it, the same one whose sighting of a mermaid was a standing joke amongst everyone who knew him.
He'd have to tell him something else. But he hadn't taken any time of his trip to plan a lie; he'd spent all of it worried he might never make it back. So he had to improvise. But what could he say?
"I'm waiting, Chris," Karl insisted. "Where have you been?"
Chris tried to come up with an explanation, but with only a few seconds to plan it, it was proving difficult. He tried to buy time by zeroing in on something he'd realized.
"Why didn't you call me? I would have answered."
It was a bit of a stretch of the truth, but not an awfully big one. He had checked his cell phone, and not only it was working just fine, but it had no missed calls. So Karl hadn't actually tried to call him – which helped to explain his concern.
Karl looked down, looking rather embarrassed.
"My phone had an accident after I tried to make my moves on the redhead, so I couldn't use it, and no one else would lend me theirs."
That's not much of a surprise. Chris thought ruefully. Although Karl was generally held in better esteem than him, he also was a bit of an outcast among the group, because of how loaded his father was. It wasn't that much of a surprise to hear no one would lend him a phone, although it was a surprise to learn that his attempts at wooing the redhead he'd mentioned had somehow ended up with his phone ruined. He'd have to ask how it had gone later.
"But don't change the subject," Karl insisted. "Where have you been?"
Chris tried to quickly come up with anything, but after a brief and vain effort, all he managed to say was, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Karl put his thumb and forefinger to his chin while he puzzled out the issue. Then, an elated grin burst across his face.
"You met a girl and got some!" He clenched his fist as if he'd just achieved a difficult personal victory. "Way to go, Chris! I knew you had it in you!" He changed to a normal tune when he added, "But still, next time, try not to be with her for so long that you lose track of time like this."
In spite of himself, Chris couldn't repress a chuckle.
"That's not exactly what happened."
He didn't say exactly what it was, though. The longer Karl tried to guess, the more time Chris would have to decide what he would tell him.
Karl's enthusiasm faded like a candle's flame hit by a hurricane. He again put his thumb and forefinger to his chin, and after more seconds of thought, spoke up again. "Let me try another guess: you met a girl, but she turned out to be a big tease and had a big biker boyfriend who was waiting for you with his whole gang so they could use you as a punching bag and steal your wallet. You were able to escape, but you spent the rest of the night side-tracking them, and it was only now that you managed to come back."
Chris repressed an eye-roll. Karl always seemed to think that things started with meeting a girl. Then again, for all he knew, they might have; Chris didn't think he would ever take the initiative of drinking on his own. He still hoped Karl wasn't right, though, because that would mean he had cheated on Mimmi.
"Thankfully it wasn't so dramatic," Chris replied. He was going to add 'Or dangerous.' but he wasn't sure if riding a boat across unknown waters when he was lost in some alcohol-induced delirium was safer than escaping a gang of bikers out for his hide.
Karl again tried to think of something that could have happened to him – this time without putting his thumb and forefinger to his chin, and over a much longer period. It gave Chris time to come up with a reasonable idea. The best thing to do, he figured, would be telling Karl as much of the truth as he could while omitting the one important part.
Eventually, Karl dropped his arms without offering any guesses.
"What happened then?" he asked.
Not having had any better idea than the one he'd settled on, Chris started explaining, "I had a weird night." He paused to find the right words, and then added, "I got smashed, somehow ended up in a boat that wasn't mine, rode it all the way to Grim Island, and when I finally woke up, I had no idea of how I got there."
Karl's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You got smashed? But you avoid the booze like the plague because…"
"Believe me, I know," Chris interjected. It sickened him to think he'd broken his vow, especially given the reason he'd made said vow in the first place. "And for the record, I don't remember drinking a single drop of alcohol. But that must be what happened for me to have done everything I told you and not remember a second of it."
Karl's eyes narrowed even further.
"That's strange…" he mused. "If you had actually drunk something, you should at least remember drinking the first few glasses. And unless you picked whiskey from the get-go, which I know you wouldn't do, you wouldn't get drunk that fast. No one is so much of a lightweight. So if it's any consolation, you most likely didn't get smashed."
Chris shrugged.
"I'm not sure that's a real consolation." Realizing how it may have come across, he added, "On one hand, it is, because I certainly wouldn't want to break that vow, but on the other… if I didn't get smashed, I have no idea what may have happened to me."
Remembering the other possibility that had come to him while he was on the boat, he asked, "Do you think I may have been on drugs?"
"Nope," Karl replied without hesitation. "Even if any drugs had made you do what you said you did, you should at least remember taking them. Do you remember taking anything?"
Chris had tried to piece together what may have happened enough times, both during the boat ride and while in the taxi, to be able to answer that truthfully. "No. As far as I know, I didn't take anything of any sort. I was just looking at the sea, then all I get is confusing blurs, and next thing I know I'm waking up off of Grim Island in a boat I have no idea how I got."
Karl again put his thumb and forefinger to his chin, this time actually tapping his chin as if that would bring up stubborn thoughts that dwelled at the bottom of his brain. While he did, Chris searched every part of his own head he could think of in an effort to dig up the answer.
"Could you have been hit in the head maybe?" Karl suggested. "As in, by a kidnapper or something?"
Chris made as if to nod, the comment that it was a possibility already on the tip of his tongue, but both the gesture and the words died before they could be made or uttered.
"I don't remember blacking out, and I don't feel any bump, or any injury at all for that matter," he said. "And why would anyone just hit me on the head, stuff me into a boat, take me to a recognizable place I would know how to get back from, and leave without even taking my wallet or my phone?"
"Yeah," Karl conceded. "It's weird."
That was one word for it. And Karl didn't even know about the weirdest part of it all. Nor could he ever know, both for Chris' sake and for the sake of any others like him that might exist out there.
Still, he might have hit the nail on the head. If Chris didn't remember anything – well, practically anything – of what happened, then maybe it stood to reason that the memory had been wiped from him. If the memory had been wiped from him, it was conceivable that someone had done it – probably the same person or people who had taken him to that pool Chris could vaguely recall, the one where he had supposedly been turned into a merman. But who would turn him into a merman? Had any mermaid or mermaids 'fancied' him, to paraphrase Karl and turned him into a merman to kidnap him, and discarded the attempt when he had somehow turned out to be uncooperative? Had some crazy scientist decided to use him as a guinea pig for some utterly lunatic experience? Or had the island itself somehow sensed him and lured him there to turn him into a merman?
The last one wasn't all that logical, but when magic started to get involved, logic had no room in the picture. Either way, in all cases, why him specifically? What was so special about him that had made merpeople, humans, or the place itself handpick him?
Well, at least he had something to keep busy with during the several flights he would have to take on the return to the Gold Coast.
As that thought reminded him of something, Chris pointed out, "Well, we'd better not think about it anymore, at least for now. Everyone else is already waiting outside. If we stay here any longer, they'll barge in and drag us out by our noses."
Karl's eyes briefly widened in alarm. "Right. Let's get going."
He went back to the bed he'd been sitting on and picked up a dark-blue travelling bag and a dark-green one. Chris followed him over, but before picking up his own bags, turned to him and said, "By the way, before I forget, thanks for finishing packing my stuff for me."
Karl gave him a modest shrug. "No problem."
Chris reached down to pick up his black and dark-orange travelling bags, but again stopped midway through the gesture and turned to Karl.
"Everything's in there, right?"
"I double checked," Karl replied with a grin. "Everything you brought is in there. Even the dirty socks you never got around to washing over the last two weeks are in there."
Chris snapped into a straight position in alarm. "What dirty socks that I never got around to washing over the last two weeks?"
He realized the answer the moment Karl started chuckling, shaking as if he was trying to hold back full-blown laughter.
"I'm just messing with you," he replied when he managed to hold back the chuckles. "Come on, let's go."
He certainly had messed with him. In spite of the reassurance that it was a joke, Chris double-checked his part of the hostel room himself, before he and Karl finally walked outside to meet the others, at a time when the mini bus' driver was already standing outside, leaning against the door with a scowl on his middle-aged bearded face. Thankfully, they were spared anything worse than a few glares, and in less than ten minutes, all of them were inside the mini bus heading toward San Diego's airport, reminiscing about their almost three months in the United States and discussing their plans to make use of what they had learned once they were back to the Gold Coast.
Chris was the only exception to that rule, too consumed by something he had realized during the boat ride back to the mainland, but which he had been trying not to think about until he truly couldn't help himself. Him having become a merman had done a lot more than making a lot of house duties difficult or put a dampener in any social life he might get. It had ruined any chances of doing the thing he wanted the most.
After all, there was no way he could work with dolphins if simply touching a drop of water would cause him to grow a tail. He wasn't dumb enough to think that in real life relationships between merpeople and dolphins were like those in cartoons; for all he knew, the dolphins would find him tasty and decide they wanted to sample him. And even if they didn't, there was no way he could simply work only with the dolphins. Chris was old enough to know that any kind of job had to have people other than him involved. But from today on, he couldn't have any job that involved touching water as a regular occurrence.
Great. Chris thought more than once during the ride to the airport. Just great.
Against all the odds, he had managed to learn to connect with dolphins, been accepted at the dolphin training program, and finished as the best of the group. And now, right when his dream was within his fingertips, it was gone again, this time for good.
What am I going to do now?
A bit later, on the other side of the planet, Evie stood with Zac before the address Doctor Blakely had provided, looking from the paper her boyfriend held to the massive house before them.
"That's a fancy home he's got here," Zac mused as he looked up at what, according to his father, was Doctor Colbert Thomas' residence.
"Indeed," Evie agreed.
That house was a huge building, with outside walls painted a silvery grey, and four floors. The first two were indistinguishable from the outside, the third had balconies big enough to house two tables for having meals and a parasol for each – like one of the balconies that Evie could see did – and the fourth looked like a terrace of sorts. All the windows had smoked glass on them and panes the size of an ordinary door. Also, in addition to the imposing look, the house also was at a prime location, less than two hundred metres from the beach.
All in all, it seemed strangely similar to Rita's house, and yet at the same time quite different.
But Evie wasn't here to do amateur real estate comparisons. She was here to ask Doctor Thomas about Alana.
So, after one last look at the huge residence, she steeled herself, took a deep breath, and pressed the doorbell's button with her right index finger. It made an old fashioned ringing that was no longer commonly found.
Evie stood as calmly as she could, trying to repress the pulsing in her throat. When Zac saw it, he put an arm around her shoulders to calm her down.
No one came to the door.
"Maybe they're still asleep?" Zac suggested after about half a minute had passed. "It's early after all."
"They may be," Evie conceded. "But I rang the bell for quite some time."
"Maybe Doctor Thomas sleeps deep." Zac suggested. "Or maybe he was up late last night and is too fast asleep to hear the bell."
Well, he could be. Evie knew enough about doctors to be aware that some specialties weren't afforded the luxury of regular sleep schedules. But if Doctor Thomas was a researcher, he supposedly would be able to keep somewhat of one.
"I'll try again," Evie decided.
She put her finger to the button once more, this time for longer. The same ringing sound came. But once more, no one answered.
"Maybe no one's home," Zac pointed out.
Evie frowned. "Maybe. But it seems a bit early. It's not even seven o'clock."
Zac's brow furrowed in thought. "If the guy's as successful as everyone says, maybe he starts early."
That also made sense. In fact, the possibility of Doctor Thomas leaving for work early had been the main reason Evie had decided to visit him at this time, because she had been afraid she wouldn't catch him if she showed up any later. She knew it was a bit early for such things, but as far as she could tell it was still 'acceptably early'. After all it wasn't as if she was showing up at three o'clock in the morning.
"A third one for luck?" Evie asked.
Zac shrugged. "Why not?"
Evie rang the bell a third time, for longer than on either of her two previous attempts. But again, no one opened the door, even after two minutes that Evie measured on her watch.
"Maybe we should try to come back at the end of the day instead," Zac said.
It might be better. Apparently it either wasn't 'acceptably early' when it came to opening the door, or Doctor Thomas was such an early bird that he was already gone from his home before seven.
A bit disappointed, Evie made as if to turn around, but a series of clicks froze her in place.
Someone was unlocking the door from the inside.
Then, the door opened inwards with silence that conveyed well maintained hinges, and a brown-haired man with blue eyes who seemed to be in his mid-forties peeked from the inside, dressed in a white bathrobe with grey pyjama pants underneath.
Evie recognized him, It was Doctor Thomas. She and Zac had tried to learn more about him yesterday, and, among other things, had managed to find some pictures of him. All of them were a bit old, but the general appearance was a dead ringer, minus a few wrinkles he must have gotten since the most recent picture Evie and Zac saw was taken.
"Can I help you?" Doctor Thomas asked them, a stern look on his face.
Evie tried not to gulp. She had never had to handle such issues, or to approach someone perceived as a minor celebrity. He probably could walk around the streets without being recognized, but he might also be well known to the point that people asking about him was a regular occurrence. She wished she could know how to approach him, but his presence seemed to have somehow blocked her throat.
"Are you Doctor Colbert Thomas?" Zac asked before she could speak.
Evie flashed him a grateful look. She knew he had met enough relatively famous doctors to have more of an idea on how to approach them.
"I am," he replied, although something in him seemed to convey he knew their question hadn't been a true question. "And you are?"
"Zac Blakely and Evie McLaren," Zac replied. "We would like to talk to you for a bit. I promise we won't be long."
Doctor Thomas didn't slam the door on their faces, but he didn't open it further to invite them in, and his look remained as stern as before. "You know it's early, don't you?"
"We know, but it's important, and we weren't sure of the best time to catch you," Zac explained. "It will be quick, we promise."
A long silence followed. Then, Doctor Thomas opened the door a bit further and stood before them, his stern gaze a tad softer. "Alright then, how can I help you?"
As if the question had been all it took to override the blockage in her vocal cords, Evie managed to speak up. "I recently met the daughter of one of your last patients. She seemed to be in a really rough spot, and I'm worried about her, so I would like to talk to her. But she didn't give me her address when we met, and the only way I thought I could find it was by asking you."
The relaxation in Doctor Thomas' expression vanished in a flash.
"Her whom?" he asked in a voice even sterner than the one he'd initially addressed them with. "The patient's daughter or the patient? And why do you think asking me is the best option? Why did you even have the idea of asking me to begin with?"
Evie tried not to frown. She could imagine why a doctor would be reluctant to share that information, but there was something about Doctor Thomas that made him seem strangely defensive, as if he thought Evie was a private investigator trying to get dirt on him rather than someone concerned.
"The daughter," Evie replied in her calmest tone. "Her name is Alana, she's pale, has red hair down to her waist, blue eyes, and an Irish accent. And we came to you because she said that you took care of her until her mother's funeral, and that you paid for the funeral yourself; it seemed to us that you might know where she is."
"Even if that's true, why should I tell you?" Doctor Thomas countered, his tone polite, but with an expression as severe as ever. "You do know that doctors are required to keep medical confidentiality, don't you?"
Evie inwardly recoiled as if she had been hit by a stone. Zac let out a mute gasp as if he'd been socked in the gut.
"We were under the impression Alana never was your patient…" Zac again managed to speak before her.
Doctor Thomas' stern look faltered briefly; then it returned as strong as before.
"You're right, she wasn't. But I still see no reason I should tell you. For all I know, you may be gangsters who want to sway her into criminal life or bullies who want to kick her while she's down."
Although those words seemed the verbal equivalent of fired bullets, this time Evie managed to take them in stride. For some reason, they seemed to make Doctor Thomas' behaviour up until now more natural.
"The best we can say to that is that we're not either of those things," Evie replied. "We're just worried about Alana." Knowing she had no way of actually proving that, she explained. "I know you only have our word to go on, but our word is also everything we have to give."
For the second time since he'd opened the door, Doctor Thomas' stern expression softened ever so slightly.
"Please," Evie insisted. "We're worried about her."
"We promise that if she doesn't want to see us, we'll leave her alone," Zac added.
Neither of them said anything else. Evie knew that if this could not persuade him to give them Alana's address, nothing else could. She could sense from Zac's stance and tone that he had the same opinion.
Once more, Doctor Thomas regarded them for a long moment, his eyes as piercing as an eagle's. Then, his harsh expression melted into a normal one.
"Well, I guess everyone needs to believe in the best in the world on occasion." He stepped away from the door and started to close it. While it was still partially open, he added, "I'll be right back with the address of her group home."
Then he closed the door silently, while Zac and Evie waited. A few moments later, he returned with a white slip of paper where he'd scrawled an address.
"Here it is," he said as he gave it to Evie. "And for what it's worth, I hope you can help Alana."
"So do we," Evie replied as she slipped the paper into her pocket. "And thank you," she added as she gave him a small thankful smile.
Doctor Thomas bowed slightly at them both.
"Good morning. And good luck." He again started retreating into his home like a turtle into its shell. "Now if you will excuse me…"
Without waiting for them to say whether they excused him or not, he closed the door. This time, Zac and Evie could hear the tell-tale whirs of it being locked from the inside as soon as Doctor Thomas was back in.
"Cheery fellow," Zac quipped with an amused smile as the two of them turned around and started their way toward the café. "But I guess he wasn't that bad."
"And definitely not so much of a moron that he should have stuck to male underwear modelling," Evie added, remembering what Doctor Blakely had said Harrison Bennett had told about Doctor Thomas.
Zac chuckled at the remark, knowing what she meant. "Knowing him like I do, I'd say Harrison Bennett said that because he's jealous his own modelling career never got off the ground in spite of his many connections."
Evie chuckled as well. Much to her surprise, when she had researched about him she had learned that Doctor Thomas had indeed done male modelling in his youth, and some of it had indeed been in male underwear modelling. But that was all she knew about it; all the pictures she'd seen of him were in suits at his lectures and things of the like.
They said nothing else for about the next ten or so steps. Then, Zac changed subjects.
"So what are we going to do now? Do we visit Alana today after all, or do you want to stick to the original plan?"
Evie thought for a bit. She did want to see Alana, to know how she was doing, and knew that now that she had the address she could do it whenever she wanted. But she didn't want to look like she was barging into Alana's life. While the Irish mermaid had liked her, as far as Evie could tell, there was still a chance she was reading things wrong. And it had only been one day since they had last met.
"I think I'll still give her today to go to the café of her own will," Evie replied. "If she doesn't, I'll visit her tomorrow, after we're done waiting for Chris with Mimmi. I already took tomorrow off for that anyway, it's more practical to stick to it."
A hint of a frown made its way onto Zac's face at the reminder that he would be meeting Chris tomorrow at around this time. He had been the one suggesting to go with Mimmi to meet Chris at the airport, as his sister still had no idea what the place was like. Ondina had also decided to join in, probably in an effort to drive Chris away, given how she seemed to treat 'Chris' as synonymous with 'terrorist'. In spite of her reservations, the Northern Mermaid had accepted, after making Zac and Ondina promise several times that they wouldn't interrogate Chris as if he was a criminal. In the end, Evie had offered to join them as well, out of concern for all the involved parties.
The slight frown vanished from Zac's face as he spoke up again. "Do you want me to go with you tomorrow?"
Evie smiled at him. "If you have nothing else to do, I'd be glad to." Then a frown of her own appeared on her face as she remembered one issue that, although important, it was also one she hadn't thought about lately. "Let's just hope Alana doesn't mind mermen."
Zac grimaced at the reminder. Although some of the pod's mermaids still gave him the side-eye, by now he seemed to have mostly forgotten that mermaids and mermen were meant to be enemies at all.
"If she does, I promise I'll leave you alone."
Evie held his hand and squeezed his fingers reassuringly. "I'm sure she won't, once she gets to know you." She smiled at him and then told him a few well-chosen words. "You're great to be around."
Zac gave her a smile of his own. "Throwing my compliments back at me, are you?"
"Well, seeing as this one does fit you, I thought it would be alright," Evie replied with playful innocence.
Zac chuckled at the answer, and then leaned forward and kissed her cheek as the two of them continued their way toward the café.
Inside his home, Colbert Thomas took deep breaths to calm himself down, trying to ignore the beads of sweat running down his body. That had been one of the most harrowing experiences of his life. It had been years since he last saw a living mermaid other than his wife and daughter, and yet they still had the power to instil utter terror in him.
Some might call it an irrational reaction, but he had learned since he could hear how dangerous mermaids were, and had almost experienced it personally when he was only a boy. Granted, he knew there were a few exceptions, as he'd married one of them to begin with, but his wife had proved herself after the trouble she got in because of him. As a whole, though, mermaids were the biggest danger in the ocean for those like him. Worse than sharks, worse than pollution, worse than sightings by land people. For a merman like him, there was no bigger peril.
"Good morning."
Colbert barely managed to keep himself from jumping at the sound, and couldn't hold himself back from quaking and shoving his hand against the door.
Blast it! He thought. That mermaid really did a number on my nerves…
He turned around as calmly as he could. The only mermaid he didn't fear besides his wife stood in front of him, still in the oversized white t-shirt and light blue pyjama pants she slept in, and with her hair still messy from sleep.
"Good morning, Neelam," he greeted, hoping she hadn't noticed his nervousness.
Her eyes were still half-closed and bleary, but she asked, "Who were you talking to?" At his look, which he hoped had gotten across as blank, she added, "I heard you talking to someone."
"A couple of bores," he replied with a nonchalant tone. As Neelam narrowed her eyes in puzzlement, he added, "Door to door salespeople."
Neelam's nose scrunched up as if she'd caught a bad smell. "This early in the morning?"
Colbert gave her a shrug that he hoped was indifferent. "I guess some of them start early."
"What were they trying to foist on us?" Neelam insisted.
Colbert raised a hand and faked a grin and a chuckle. "Nothing we needed, believe me."
He hoped she wouldn't push it much further. He was running out of ways to deflect her questions or answer them insincerely. Thankfully, his daughter then showed the usual foggy mind she had upon waking up. "I'm going for my morning swim. I'll start breakfast after I'm back."
This time, he managed to smile genuinely. "Thanks, sweetheart."
Neelam smiled back as she turned around and walked away. A few moments later, he heard her walking downstairs to the basement, toward their home's other entrance, the one that lead to the sea, and which all of them used every morning to wash up, as using a bathtub was difficult for those like them, and sea water cleansed them just fine.
Moments after the sounds of Neelam's steps faded, those of a second set of feet reached his ears. Then, Tanushri walked downstairs, wearing an ankle-length robe, and with a no-nonsense look on her face. In spite of that, Colbert wasn't startled. He had a pretty good guess of what was coming, and he had handled it before more than once.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she went straight to the heart of the matter. "Neelam may have fallen for that thing about door to door salesmen, but I don't. Who was it?"
She was careful not to speak too loudly, but her narrowed eyes and the flat line her mouth made left no room for her state of mind. Unease started to creep up Colbert, not because of his wife's expression, but because of what he'd have to tell her. Lying to Neelam or to Praveer was one thing; lying to Tanushri was another.
"A mermaid," he replied. "And her boyfriend, if I had to guess."
Tanushri's eyes widened in very clear terror, and she gasped in alarm. Then, as if her brain had worked out a particular thing he'd said, she frowned in puzzlement.
"Boyfriend?" she asked in a whisper. "Not plaything?"
"I guess not," Colbert insisted. Noticing her puzzlement, he explained, "I know it's strange, but he didn't look like he was enchanted or anything. His eyes were clear, and he spoke to me normally, so he either doesn't know she's a mermaid or she somehow trusted him enough to tell him, as unlikely as that sounds."
His wife's puzzlement only seemed to increase. "How do you know she was a mermaid?"
"She had a moon ring," Colbert pointed out. "And she wore it on the proper finger. So she's a mermaid."
Knowing she was a mermaid was the one reason he had hesitated so long before opening the door, even though he had been there not long after the first ring. He had actually been very tempted not to open the door at all, but he had also known that the mermaid could come back if she didn't get what she wanted the first time around, so he had gathered his bravery and decided to get it over with.
"What did they want?" Tanushri asked, her puzzlement now lower.
"They were looking for Alana." He saw his wife looking more puzzled again, and replied to the question that he guessed was coming. "They said that they knew her, but also didn't know where to find her, and they guessed I might have her address because she apparently told them about me."
His wife no longer looked puzzled, but she now looked wary. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then asked, "What did you do?"
"I gave them her address," Colbert replied.
Concern flashed across Tanushri's eyes. "Won't that be dangerous for her?"
Colbert tried to hold back his guilt. He had indeed been a bit anxious about giving away Alana's secret. But it still seemed the best thing to do, and he would explain to his wife why he thought so.
"If we didn't give it to them, the first thing they'd do would be trying to find it out via alternative means, some of which might involve them breaking into our house and finding out about us. This way, they'll leave us alone."
Hopefully. He thought, but didn't add.
As far as he could tell, they would. It was impossible to know everything about people just from a few minutes of interaction, especially when a half-closed door had been serving as a barrier for most of it, but he was pretty sure that they actually meant what they said about Alana. And after all, the average mermaid, for all her prejudice and aggression toward mermen like him, was kind to fellow mermaids and to other sea creatures. Apparently, most even did not mind land people that much. Mermen were the only ones they had problems with.
"But can we really be sure we haven't just put her in danger?" Tanushri went forth, the concerned look still in her eyes.
"I think we haven't," Colbert reassured in his calmest voice.
Tanushri's eyes narrowed. "But do you know we haven't?"
Colbert held back a tired sigh. Most of the time, he loved watching Tanushri's maternal side, but as far as Alana was concerned, it had been a major source of worry for him. She had, on a few occasions, brought forth the possibility of them telling her they were merpeople, but Colbert had always put his foot – or tail, depending on when she brought up the issue – down and said it was best not to. He could see where Tanushri was coming from; he too had grown to care for Alana. And like he had told Neelam, if she was a mermaid who had fallen into a moon pool, he would have agreed to tell her. But DNA tests he had made on her proved that Alana was a born mermaid, although her mother was a land girl who had fallen into a moon pool. How that was possible, he had no idea; perhaps magic somehow caused the children of merpeople born from humans who fell into moon pools to automatically be born merpeople. Never having met any mermaid with a human parent other than Alana, he could not say.
Either way, it was too dangerous, especially because Alana had a moon ring. If Colbert had to guess, that meant her mother had somehow been accepted by a pod – probably because she never told them she was a human – which meant both she and Alana knew how mermaids viewed mermen.
But Tanushri kept giving him a pointed look, and by now, Colbert knew there was only one way out of it.
"I'll check on Alana tomorrow." As Tanushri made as if to speak up, he added, "I already have today's schedule too full, and if I ran into those two there, it would look too suspicious."
Tanushri's gaze pacified in agreement, but he knew from it that she wasn't done either.
"Take Neelam with you," his wife requested. "You know she wants to see Alana."
Colbert wanted to argue, but if he had to guess, his wife would just persuade him again in the end. And besides, not only it was Neelam's right to see Alana, but it would be better if she did it with him watching to make sure she wouldn't do anything foolish.
"Fine," he conceded. "If she understands the importance of behaving properly in front of Alana, as well as those two if we get to see them."
"She will," Tanushri stated.
In spite of himself, Colbert did believe that. Neelam wore her heart on her sleeve – when she wore sleeves at least – but she wasn't an idiot. But even if he didn't, his time to ask his wife how she knew had run out; a set of steps from the last resident in their home had just started up.
Moments later, Praveer showed up at the top of the stairs, clad in boxer briefs and a muscle man t-shirt.
"Morning dad, morning mom," he said when he reached the bottom of the stairs.
Both of them wished him good morning in return, trying to look casual, but he must have noticed something off about him and Tanushri, because he locked his eyes on them.
"Did I miss anything?" he asked.
Tanushri shrugged and replied, "Just a couple of door to door salespeople and your sister leaving for her morning swim."
Colbert inwardly sighed in relief at seeing Tanushri going along with his excuses. If possible, he wanted to spare both their children any concern, even though they were already adults. But Praveer didn't seem persuaded by the remark. Colbert decided to try another approach. "We were going now as well, if you'd like to join us."
He held up his arms at the offer.
"I'm no longer five years old. I can swim on my own." He looked toward the door to the basement, and then added with a smirk, "But I guess I'll go with you until we're in the sea proper."
"It works for us," Colbert replied. Knowing of something that would pull Praveer's mind away from any suspicions, he put an arm around Tanushri's waist and pulled her to himself. "Doesn't it, dear?"
Just like he expected, Praveer immediately made the most theatrical looking gag he could possibly come up with, like he always did whenever Colbert and Tanushri were physically affectionate, even though it had been years since he had been at his most disgusted at the thought.
"Yes, it does," Tanushri replied with a smile and an overly sweet voice, having gotten his hint.
The two of them chuckled as they walked down the hallway to the basement's door, with Praveer again making a mock-gag as he followed them.
So here is another chapter... and again, no fancasting because of the lack of new characters.
I hope you enjoyed it. Again, I'll try not to take too long with the next one.
