‘I really think it’s for the best.’
‘For you, maybe,’ she’d shot back, and in the morning, she’d been gone. I never knew how long she’d be gone, but she always came back eventually, acting like nothing had happened, and I was happy to play along with that. It was easier than always fighting.
At the top of the driveway, I swung around the last corner and my headlights illuminated a couple of branches that had come down across the track. Big trees dotted the property and were prone to dropping a few branches every time we had high winds, as we’d had the night before. I left the truck running while I dragged them off the drive and piled them up in the undergrowth. Tomorrow I’d bring the saw and chop them into firewood for Moira for next winter. The lawns needed mowing again soon too. It wasn’t part of the deal, property maintenance, but I liked doing it, and I knew Moira appreciated it.
The cabin was warm and homey and just as you’d imagine an oceanside cabin in Maine to be. It came fully furnished, and although some of the furnishings wouldn’t have been my own choice – like the old duck decoys in rows on top of the beams in the roof, or the shower curtain with its moose pattern that matched the moose lamps and moose kitchen utensil holder – I was just grateful I didn’t have to bother with any of it myself. Interior design had never been a passion of mine, and the furnishings from the apartment I’d left behind in the city to move here had all fitted into the back of a truck. I’d donated them to goodwill, severing all ties with the life I had left behind.
It was ten-thirty, too late for a beer, but too early for bed. Even if I was tired, the heat was still stifling, and I knew from experience I would only toss and turn for hours if I tried. It always took me a while to switch my brain off enough from work to be able to fall asleep anyway. Luckily, my first run on the beach after I had moved in here, I had found the perfect spot to cool off and destress. I grabbed my towel and headed out the door.
Following the trail down to the beach, I dodged the various tree roots that emerged through the soil ready to twist an unsuspecting ankle, feeling the moment the ground underfoot changed from the gritty dirt of the forest floor to the sandy beach, the sand still warm from the sun. Stiff grasses brushed up against my legs. The cicada chorus was loud in the quiet of the night, the only other noise the gentle swooshing of the waves meeting the shore. The moon and stars overhead were bright enough that I didn’t need a torch, although I carried one with me as usual, just in case. I was still getting used to how many stars there were here, away from the bright lights of the city.
I made my way along the beach to the rocks at the end of the small bay, clambering up them to the edge of the swimming hole that had been carved into the rocks over time. At high tide, the ocean flooded the pool with clean, fresh Atlantic salt water. At its deepest point it was just over six feet, and at its widest point about nine. I dropped my towel and the torch onto a ledge and reached for the ties on the front of my board shorts.
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ the voice in the dark said idly. ‘Not unless you want to add public indecency to the trespass charge you’re already facing,’ she added.
‘Who’s there?’
‘I could ask you the same question.’
‘You could,’ I agreed. ‘But I asked first.’
There was a splashing sound. ‘Would you believe me if I said I was a mermaid?’
‘That depends.Areyou a mermaid?’
‘No.’ She sounded regretful. ‘But I used to spend a lot of time while growing up imagining that I was. Imagine having the freedom to go wherever you wanted in the world. All the amazing sights you would see.’
Scanning the pool, I made out the outline of her head at the other end of the pool, silhouetted against the sky. ‘This is private property. How did you even get here?’
‘The same way as you did, I walked. The difference is, I’m allowed to be here.You’rethe one who’s trespassing.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Yes, you are.’
‘I’m not,’ I insisted.
‘Whatever. You can argue about it with the cops. I’ve already called them and they’re on their way under lights and sirens. We tend to take trespassers pretty seriously around these parts.’
I smirked. In all the months I’d lived here, I’d never seen the cops in a hurry to get anywhere. ‘Oh really? What did you call them on, your mermaid shell-phone?’
I heard a snort of laughter. ‘No. Just my regular old mobile.’
‘Well, I hope it’s Gerry who shows up. I haven’t seen him around for a few weeks. I know he’s pretty busy though. Marianne must be about ready to drop the baby any day now.’
There was a long pause. ‘You know Gerry?’ she asked, her tone suspicious.
‘I do. Doyouknow Gerry?’
‘I almost broke his arm in the fifth grade when he pulled my hair in class, so yeah, you could say I know Gerry.’
‘You’re a local.’ I’d met a lot of people through the restaurant since moving here, but her voice wasn’t ringing any bells. I felt around for the torch I’d put down on a rock nearby.
‘You’re pretty smart for a trespasser.’
‘Thanks, but like I keep telling you, I’m not trespassing.’ I found my torch and clicked it on, beaming the light in her direction.
She recoiled under its bright glare. ‘Jesus Christ. Are you trying to blind me?’
