Cerulean Isle (24 page)
As I listened to her, my mind was filled with images of my mother’s flowered coffin drifting out to sea.
“What is wrong, Jacob?” asked the Mermaiden.
“Nothing. You just reminded me of things from long ago. Before I say goodnight, may I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“What is it like down there? Is there another world under the sea?”
“We all live in the same world. Sky touches land, land touches ocean, and ocean touches sky.”
“But what is down there?”
“What are you looking for?”
I thought about it. She pulled her hand away from mine. The rolling waves began to swallow her.
“I’m not looking for anything anymore,” I said, “now that I’ve found you.”
“Kay lu’ann, Jacob; it means goodnight. I will see you before the noon sun.”
“Kay lu’ann, Cora.”
~~~~~~
I lay awake that night thinking of the rainbow-haired Mermaiden. I wondered where she spent her nights. I watched the sky brighten from the coming sun. The starry blackness overhead turned to gray, then to blue. Soon the first hues of daylight streamed out from behind the horizon, red and orange like a distant fire burning just out of sight.
~~~~~~
Just after breakfast, I met with Waylin. We leaned against the starboard bow.
“The watchmen reported that you and Grant went fishing last night,” he said, “I am not a fool. I know you went to the isle.”
“We went to the isle, and we met with the inhabitants.”
Waylin’s eyes widened. “There are people there?”
“Yes. An entire tribe.”
“That is wonderful! Perhaps they can help us.”
“I am sure they will. They are very kind,” I said. “Where is Owen? The news that Grant and I have would be of great interest to him.”
I looked out at the island and wondered what the Merfolk were doing on this morning. Did they eat breakfast? Were they speaking of last night’s meeting? Perhaps they looked out at our ship and asked these same questions.
Waylin interrupted my thoughts. “Owen is the other matter I wish to speak of. That old salt has been filling our men’s heads with wild tales. Merfolk. Those are the only yarns he knows.”
“You might want to listen to a few of his stories.”
“I am all for a good fable when the time is right, but not all of his are good.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have heard him tell that the Merfolk are killers, man-eaters. He has some of the men believing that we are in grave danger. Smirks and Miley, the divers, still claim to have been attacked, and this only validates Owen’s ravings. Hammock has come to me and asked if we have taken the necessary precautions against the Water People.”
This news was difficult for me to understand. I had never heard Owen say anything ill of the Mer. I wondered why he would make such claims.
Waylin continued, “Owen is the danger. He is poisoning the minds of our already troubled crew. It is all we can do to keep morale high enough so that hope remains. The last thing I need is a lunatic making matters worse. I did what I could to ease Hammock’s worry. He’s not the only one that Owen has managed to frighten. There are at least six other men who have come to me and asked if Owen’s stories are true.”
“Have you approached Owen?”
“Of course I have. He tells me there is nothing wrong with sharing yarns and that if the crew is not mature enough to understand that the stories are for enjoyment, they are fools.” Waylin sighed and rubbed the corners of his tired eyes. “From the start, I have questioned his intent. He is cunning and intelligent, but so am I.”
“What would you have me do?” I ran my hand through my hair and rubbed the back of my neck. I was tired, and it was a struggle for me to focus on Waylin’s concern. Images of Cora swept through my mind.
“Order him to cease his mischief. You are the only one he listens to. If it does not stop, I will personally build a new jail cell for him.”
“Be at ease, Waylin. I will talk to him.”
I left the starboard bow and began my routine main deck walk. The crew greeted me as I passed. The sun was hot, but a frequent breeze blew off the sea, cool and calming. Waylin followed beside me. “Tell me of the people who call that strange land home.”
“They are a peaceful tribe.”
“Arawaks, possibly.”
“No. They are not Arawaks at all. They speak English and have a basic understanding of our customs. Grant and I met with their leader and he wishes for his people and our crew to meet.”
“Did they propose a time?”
“Today. We are to venture back to the courtyard with the statues. They call it the Sacred Lagoon. Also, they have asked that we bear no arms while on their land.”
Waylin’s brow dipped in disapproval. “That request will not sit well with the others.”
“I understand, but what choice do we have? Remember that they are the people who saved our lives.”
“I have met and befriended tribes from all over the world. This meeting will be no different.”
“Well,” I began.
“Well, what?”
“Nothing. Come, I must call for a crew meeting and inform our men of what is to come.”
I sounded the watchmen’s bell, and the crew assembled under the mainmast. Grant stood by me, his left arm in a sling and a smile on his face. Owen stood in front of the crew. The days in the sun had bronzed him and the darkened complexion hid his age even more. Being on the ship and out at sea had rejuvenated him. He looked strong and proud.
I lifted my hand to call for their attention.
“My friends,” I began. “Last night, Grant and I met the people of the island.” A speculative and excited murmur rustled through the crowd. “The provisions we found floating in the waters around
Destiny
are from them. They have invited us to meet on their land and agreed to help us.”
“Who are they?” shouted one of the crewmates.
“They are a peaceful tribe. We must meet with their leader and together we will decide the best way to repair our ship.”
Hammock stepped forward. His face was troubled. “What do they want in return? Nothing is free.”
“I don’t know what they will ask of us in return, but whatever it is would be within our means, I am sure. One would not borrow from a beggar.” I turned to the crew again. “The only request they have made is that we leave behind all arms. No one is to carry a weapon while on their land.”
This condition upset the men, who broke into a clamor of protest. Owen stared at me strangely.
“Is there a problem, Owen?” I asked.
He smiled slowly. “You tell me, Jacob. I notice that you are not wearing the ruby shell necklace. Did you find the owner?”
“Yes. I met the tribal woman who lost it and gave it back.”
“It was no woman you met. Tell me, did you meet the six Keepers? Did you meet the one they call Sydin?”
“We will talk of these matters later.”
“Nay!” he yelled. The crew turned their attention on us. “We will talk of it now! You met the Mer of Cerulean Isle. You and Grant went on a private expedition and failed to include me. Damn you.”
“Owen, please…”
“I led you to safety and shared my wisdom with you. I bestowed my knowledge of the Mer. I worked for days helping to repair this worthless ship and when the time came to seek out the Water People, you went alone. Why did you leave me out? I’ll tell you all why! Because you still, after all I have done for you, believe me to be recklessly mad. Aye!” He turned to the crew and shouted, “Who is reckless after all? Captain Grant and quartermaster Jacob, they are the ones not worthy of trust. They have admitted that last night they abandoned this ship while we slept. They left us. Need I say more?”
Waylin stepped forth and loomed over Owen. “You needn’t say more. You need to say less,” he growled. “Defame this crew one more time and you will regret it.”
Owen spat in Waylin’s face.
Waylin hauled back and struck him. Owen stumbled back, then moved toward Waylin who struck him again. This time Owen fell. Blood poured from his mouth. Waylin snatched him by the shirt and lifted him to his feet. Owen was disorientated. The crew looked on as Waylin pinned him against the mainmast.
“You must be proud, Waylin,” mocked Owen. “Striking a man many years out of his prime. Aye, proud indeed.”
“Silence! You will dishonor us with your madness no longer.”
A bloody hiss of laughter came from Owen as the old pirate looked over at me. “Tell him, Jacob. Tell him, Grant. Tell them all that it was Merfolk you met. Do not lead them into danger.”
“The Merfolk are
not
dangerous!” yelled Grant.
“Then it is true?” asked Hammock. His sheer size demanded an answer.
A silence fell over the crew. All eyes were on Grant and me. Even Waylin, though he kept Owen pressed against the mast, looked at us, waiting for the truth.
“I said “Last night we met a tribe of people that have made this strange island their home. They are kind, peaceful, and yes…they are Merfolk. The Water People are real and this is one of their territories. They mean us no harm.”
“What now, Jacob?” asked Waylin angrily.
“We go to them,” I replied.
Grant addressed the crew. “There is nothing to be afraid of. Our enemy is their enemy. They are the ones who brought us the food. They saved our lives. Would a tribe that meant us harm be so generous? Who will go aground on Cerulean Isle without reservation or fear?”
Konopo was the first to raise his hand, intrigue burning in his black eyes. Owen muttered something but raised his hand. I looked over the crew and watched as the hands started to rise.
While Waylin, Bart, and Grant assisted the crew in preparing all seaworthy rowboats, I made my rounds to ensure that everyone adhered to the no weapons agreement. Owen leaned over the port bow with a rag to his nose and mouth. Every now and then he turned it to help cease the bleeding.
“Owen.” He did not acknowledge me. “This is the day, Owen, when we meet as allies with the Merfolk of Cerulean Isle. Isn’t this what you’ve desired for so long?”
Owen removed the stained rag from his face. He was no longer bleeding. He threw it into the water and faced me. “You have much to learn, Jacob. There is still time, however. Leave me alone.”
He pushed by me and made his way to the rowboats.
The crew of the sloop
Destiny
filled all five rowboats. I shared the lead boat with Grant, Waylin, Bartholomew, and Konopo. Owen, still refusing to be near Waylin, shared a boat with the two divers, Hammock, and one of the watchmen. They spoke softly to each other and from time to time, Owen gave us a cold glance.
Grant stood up and hollered to the rowboats drifting around the hull of the sloop. “We must wait here until our guide arrives. Let this be your last chance to rid yourselves of any arms. If you have so much as a paring knife around your neck, throw it overboard now.” Two men from the third boat tossed small knives into the water. “Now, please be patient and await further orders. No one goes ahead.”
“Well done,” I said. “Now we wait for Cora Star.”
“For who?” asked Waylin.
“The Mermaiden, Cora Star, their lead scout. She said she would be here around noon to bring us to the isle.”
I felt something wet touch my hand. I turned to find Cora looking back at me. Her shoulders and head dripped with saltwater and her purple eyes sparkled with delight. Her colorful wet hair shone in the sunlight, like the ribbons of a rainbow woven into fine threads. Her skin was lightly bronzed and when her lips formed a smile, my heart melted, and all of the boyhood dreams were rekindled within me.
“Hello again, Jacob,” she said, her eyes riveted to mine.
“Good day, Cora.”
Her cool hand folded around mine. Her rings of gold and silver glinted almost as bright as her eyes. “Waylin, Bart, Konopo…I’d like to introduce Cora Star.”
“It is a wonder to meet you all,” she greeted them.
The men gazed at the stunning female drifting in the water beside our boat. Waylin stared. Bart wore a look of fascination. He blinked a few times and then leaned over to shake her hand. “You are every bit as lovely as Grant and Jacob foretold. I am Bartholomew.”
Cora heard his name and tried to mouth the word. “Bar… ta’la…mo.”
“Just call me Bart, my lady.”
Cora giggled. “Bart.”
Konopo spoke to Cora. “Awu, Konopo. Amoro Wotoworyi?”
Cora nodded that she understood his Carib tongue. “It is nice to meet you, Konopo, and yes, I am a Mermaiden, a Wotoworyi, as your people say. We have known elders of your tribe. Your people are great warriors.”
“Thank you. If I had my urapa, it would be yours to command.”
“What is an
urapa?”
asked Grant.
“Bow and arrow,” he answered without taking his eyes off the Mermaiden.
Cora drifted back to me. “Are you ready to go?”
“We are ready.”
“Then let your mooring line over the bow as you did the night before. Command the other boats to do the same. My friends are all here, waiting under the water. They will take the lines, and we will pull you to the isle.”
“No rowing!” cheered Grant. He looked around and asked, “Cora, is Pearl here?”
“Yes, Grant,” she replied with a playful smirk. “She is eager to see you again.”
Grant sat back and winked at Bart. Bart chuckled but regained his etiquette. Cora slipped quietly under the water. I dropped our mooring line over the bow. From beneath the waves, I saw a glitter of purple and gold, then the line became taut. I stood up to address the crew.
“Let loose your mooring line. Keep one end secured to your bow and toss the other in the water. They have come. They will pull us to the island.”
The men leaned over the sides of the boats to peer into the water, and tried to catch a glimpse of a cresting fin. With incredible finesse, the Mer towed our rowboats safely around the dangerous stone pilings. In just under five minutes, our journey was over. The Mer let our lines free and our boats drifted into the bay of white sand.
Destiny’s
crew took in the fantastical landscape of the island. Some men knelt to touch the powdery sand while others gazed upward at the looming crystal-blue formations. I heard a soft splash and turned to see Cora a few feet from the shore.
