Read Between Land and Sea Online
Authors: Joanne Guidoccio
Table of Contents
BETWEEN LAND AND SEA
JOANNE GUIDOCCIO
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
BETWEEN LAND AND SEA
Copyright©2013
JOANNE GUIDOCCIO
Cover Design by Fiona Jayde.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the priority written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
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Published in the United States of America by
Soul Mate Publishing
P.O. Box 24
Macedon, New York, 14502
ISBN-13: 978-1-61935-
290-2
www.SoulMatePublishing.com
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
For my mother
Franca Albo Guidoccio
Acknowledgements
My love and thanks go to my family: my parents for their support and encouragement; Tony for his financial advice; Augy and Ernie for beautifully capturing the theme of Between Land and Sea with their songs, “Father Time Blinked” and “It’s Your Time, Bella”; Lilly for her creative input; Judy, Joan, Christina, Deanna, Olivia, and Ava for their unwavering support. Nonno Antonio, thank you for inspiring me with your love of the written word.
Hugs of appreciation to the members of Guelph Write Now and Guelph Writers Ink, especially Patricia Anderson, Cindy Carroll, Linda Johnston, Monika Wright, Bonnie Marshall, Judy Emery, Mike Fisher, Sue Ricketts, and Dennis Fitter.
I am grateful for the support of Canoe Bumper Magda Viehover, Carla Barnes, Fil Derewianko, Brenda McGinnis, Erynn Hayden, Ruth Anne Finnigan, Kathy Whyte, Sandy and Jim Hill.
Thanks to the members of GWIN, Agvantage Toastmasters, and Royal City Toastmasters for inspiring and motivating me to continue with all my creative endeavours.
I appreciate the online support from the Soul Mate Authors Group, RWA, Sisters in Crime, Guppies, and the weekly Twitter Chat groups -- #SpiritChat, #PoCChat, #LeadfromWithin, #PFWChat, #LitChat, #InspireChat.
I extend my thanks to the community at Guelph Public Library, where I’ve participated in many workshops, readings, and courses. A special thanks to author Sarah Totton, who inspired me to start writing Between Land and Sea.
On my writing journey, I encountered so many wonderful teachers and mentors: Brian Henry, Susan Fish, Karen Cafarella, Deb Quaile, Eva Shaw, and John Agress.
Thanks to Editor Jen Hiuser for her professionalism and positive thoughts during those dark November days.
The people at Soul Mate Publishing bring expertise and talent to every facet of publishing, and I am grateful to them all, especially Senior Editor Debby Gilbert, whose belief in my work made this book possible.
Chapter 1
Isabella stumbled as she got out of bed and tried to balance herself on the stumps that now served as permanent legs. She willed herself not to cry as she recalled the magnificent tail that had been the envy of the Mediterranean kingdom. Her mother and grandmother had also been blessed with the same tail. Now only Annabella held this birthright.
She heard her stomach growl and thought longingly of her favorite kelp dish. She closed her eyes and visualized the steaming goodness that would satisfy her hunger. And then she remembered that she could no longer manifest her desires.
No more powers. No more comfort and ease.
Her lips trembled as she looked about the small, neat room filled with large wooden pieces and smaller metallic ones. She tried to move one of the larger pieces and then gave up in frustration. Andrew had promised her a beautiful home with servants, and now she must live this life of ordinary humans.
The flickering of a green light caught her attention. She approached and noticed the tablet lying on one of the wooden surfaces. It was blinking at her. Tentatively, she touched the green light. The blinking stopped and a smiling face materialized.
“Greetings, Isabella. I am Lisa738. Annabella has asked me to guide you through your orientation.”
Isabella frowned and tried to recall her connection to this lowly mermaid from the Numbers class.
Lisa738 explained, “Since this is your first time using a tablet, I will describe some of its features. Whenever you press the green light, I will appear on this screen. Underneath the screen are a series of buttons that you will learn how to use.” She paused. “Am I going too quickly for you?”
Isabella had a sudden flash from her youth as she recalled a small, helpless, uncoordinated mermaid who could not keep up. She also remembered the wicked laughter and cruel taunts she had hurled at Lisa738. “No, go on. I’m listening.”
“Some of the buttons are raised and shiny. If you touch them, you will notice they have a smooth finish. Their glaze has been treated with magnetic ions. Go ahead and peel off one of the coatings.”
Isabella picked up the button closest to her and slowly and deliberately peeled off its coating. She looked up expectantly at Lisa738.
“Good. Now place the button on your left temple. The ions from the button will penetrate your skin and enter your brain. It will take only a few seconds for all the information from the button to enter your consciousness. When you feel a tiny surge of energy, move on to the next button. Each button has been programmed to give you enough information to survive as Barbara Davies, your new earth identity.”
Isabella hesitated and then followed the instructions. Lisa738 watched and nodded in approval as Isabella proceeded to absorb the ions from ten different buttons. By the end, Isabella felt her body separating from her as she grabbed hold of a chair. Where did that word come from?
Lisa738 laughed. “You are feeling strange, as if you are leaving your body. You are also starting to become familiar with your new surroundings. Tell me, what was the first word that came to mind?”
“Chair. I thought of a chair.” Isabella looked in disbelief at the plain wooden chair that had captured her first human thought.
Lisa738 nodded in approval. “Good, it worked. Do you have any questions?”
“How do you know all this?” Isabella asked. “After all, you’re only . . .”
“A lowly number mermaid. Ah, yes, but lowly number mermaids need to know how things work. We are the worker bees that make everything possible in the underwater kingdom. We spend time learning all the new technology and keeping a few steps ahead of the humans. You and your kind then take it all for granted.”
“You are not bitter?”
“It is what it is,” Lisa738 said. “I accepted my fate a long time ago. I do my work and I do it well. I don’t have too many expectations.”
“Yes, life is definitely easier when one doesn’t have too many expectations.”
“Do not spend too much time regretting the past. Move on and move quickly to the next phase of your life.” Lisa738 smiled kindly and waved as she faded away into the screen.
Isabella sat down and contemplated her situation. In the past, she would not have given such a common mermaid a glance or a second look, but now she was forced to depend upon her for survival. It would only be temporary. Once she learned the ropes, she would no longer need advice from anyone in the underwater kingdom.
Her thoughts were interrupted by loud knocking on the door and a gruff voice shouting, “Ma’am, Mrs. Davies? Are you in there? It’s Bob, the superintendent of the building. I’ve got something for you.”
It took only a few seconds for Isabella’s new human brain to absorb and process the information. This human was in charge of the building and she was Mrs. Davies. She opened the door and encountered the pleasant, round face of a short, stocky man.
His eyes widened as he took in her appearance. “I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am. Didn’t think you’d still be in bed.”
Isabella looked down and realized she was still wearing her nightgown. Mistake Number One. She smiled brightly and said nothing.
“I brought over some breakfast for you,” Bob said. “My wife made you some eggs. Scrambled, I think. Didn’t know whether you liked ham or bacon so she made both. Hope you like it.” He presented her with the tray and then turned and left quickly.
Isabella called out after him. “Thank you, Bob. And thank your wife for me.” She placed the tray on the small table in the kitchenette and proceeded to examine its contents. Eggs, bacon, ham, potatoes, and a few tomatoes were arranged on a large white china platter. A thermos of coffee and a fruit cup completed the meal. Isabella ate everything and was surprised to discover that she actually liked human food. In the past, she had found the food lacking in flavor. She showered, washed, and towel-dried her short, choppy hair as she wrapped a white, fluffy robe around her body. She opened the suitcase and started rifling through the plain Jane clothes in large unflattering styles. She shook her head and decided that she would not be wearing these frumpy clothes for too long. She may have lost her extraordinary looks, but she did not have to fade into the woodwork and become invisible.
Isabella settled on a pair of black yoga pants and a grey T-shirt. She took a deep breath and examined herself critically in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. Her thick, red-gold wavy locks had given way to straight, medium brown hair. It was cut very poorly and did not flatter the rounder cheeks that had replaced the classic oval face of her mermaid days. Her expressive green eyes with dark brows and long lashes remained. She had a few wrinkles and light age spots, but the skin was smooth. As for her size, she had ballooned into a size sixteen.
Her mood picked up and she decided to organize her clothes in the closet and chest of drawers. She made her bed, washed the dishes, and inspected her surroundings. She started to feel comfortable in this cozy cocoon where only Bob and his wife knew of her existence.
In the living area, she noticed a large envelope on the coffee table. Isabella picked it up and recognized her new name—BARBARA DAVIES—in bold black letters. She emptied the envelope and examined its contents. She carefully read her birth certificate, driver’s licence, and social insurance number. As she read through the short synopsis of Barbara’s life story, she discovered that Barbara Davies was a fifty-three-year-old woman who had been spurned by a philandering husband named Carl Davies. And Carden, a small town forty miles west of Toronto, was her new home.
Isabella groaned. It would have been easier to start over in a major city center.
She heard knocking on the door again. Was Bob bringing more food? She looked down at her soft midsection and large thighs and shook her head. She couldn’t eat this much and hope to improve her looks. The knocking became louder and more insistent. “I’m coming, Bob.” Isabella opened the door to a small, slight woman with a hangdog expression and another large tray of food.
Isabella held out her hand. “Hello, I’m Barbara Davies. You must be Bob’s wife.”
The woman shook Isabella’s hand. “Yes, ma’am. My name is Rita. Rita Traychuk.” She looked closely at Isabella. “You’re looking better. Less peaked than yesterday.” She pushed the tray toward Isabella. “I brought you lunch.”
“Why, that’s so nice of you,” Isabella said. “I just finished the lovely breakfast you sent earlier.”
Rita’s features darkened. “I’m just following Mr. Armstrong’s orders to the letter.”
“Who’s Mr. Armstrong?”
Rita’s eyes popped. “He’s the man who brought you here yesterday. He owns this building and a few others in the county.”
“Does he live here?”
“Live here? Paul Armstrong?” Her laugh was a hollow one. “Wait till I tell Bob.”
This was definitely Mistake Number Two, but Isabella didn’t know how to fix it.
“I don’t know and don’t want to know about your comings and goings. All I know is that I’m to feed you until you get back on your feet.” Rita peered up at Isabella. “Any idea how long that’ll be?”
This Paul Armstrong must be one of Annabella’s many earthly admirers who would do almost anything for her. She smiled confidently at Rita. “Ah, yes. I remember now. He’s one of my grandmother’s admirers.”
Rita laughed even louder. “Begging your pardon, ma’am. But Mr. Armstrong doesn’t take up with old ladies. He likes them young and beautiful.”
Isabella started to reply and then realized that Rita must think Annabella well into her eighties or nineties. Another mistake.
Rita shook her head in disgust. “I’ll just leave the tray with you.” She gestured toward the fridge. “I’ve stocked the fridge with bread, juice, milk, and other basics. Now about supper.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll just reheat this lovely food.” Isabella added, “And don’t worry about any other meals. I can take it from here.”
Rita raised her eyebrows. “As long as you’re sure. I don’t want Mr. Armstrong—”
“Let me deal with Mr. Armstrong.”