The Sea Taketh (Alex Singer) (21 page)

I hold up an enormous stack of flyers. On each one of them is a terrible photo of me.

“Here are a few souvenirs for you!” I heave the enormous stack into his arms before zipping up my backpack. “I should have never have dated you! I should have listened to the nagging in my brain that told me to run as far away from you as possible!”

             
“Alexandra, I am truly sorry about everything that’s happened. I feel somewhat responsible because you voiced concerns about going to the dance. You must believe me when I say that I never dreamed that Jackson would do what he did!” Christian says, covering the stack of Veronica’s anti-Alex propaganda with his jacket.

             
“It doesn’t matter.” I slip my arms into my backpack and angrily fold my arms. “You’ve proven to me that I’m better off alone. Believe me when I say that I’ve learned my lesson.”

             
He looks at me pleadingly as he takes a step forward. “I know you’re speaking out of frustration. I’ll come and visit after school, and we’ll discuss this further.”

             
“No, this is me officially breaking up with you.” I turn around and march out of the library.

Hypothesis #6 is upgraded to Theory #8 – I must avoid the Danes.

Observations – Christian deserted me when I needed him. He didn’t tell me about the diplomatic immunity or even his birthday.

             
Gramps is unhappy when I arrive home on foot that day. After the incident with Jackson, he doesn’t want me going anywhere by myself. He tells me that I will be riding with the Pedersens, to and from school, for the rest of the year. It’s useless to argue. I can’t intentionally hurt my grandfather by deliberately disobeying him, not after appearing in
Vogue
.

             
“Yes, Gramps,” I tell him.

             
“Good, the Pedersens will be here in a few minutes to take us down to the school,” he says.

             
“I just got home…” I start to complain.

             
“Christian talked to Principal Irons and the school board. They are meeting in twenty minutes to discuss the harassment you’ve been receiving at school. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, pulling on his jacket. He frowns with a look of disappointment and concern.

             
“It wouldn’t have done any good. No one can do anything to stop Vanessa. We both know Dr. Powers is on the school board.” I sip a glass of apple cider.

             
“I didn’t raise you to cower in a corner.” He passes me a jacket. “If Michael Powers is too busy to teach his children manners, then we will force them to behave.”

             
I refuse my jacket. “It’s just going to make things worse. Vanessa and Jackson find ways around the rules.”

             
“They’ve met their match in the Pedersens.”

             
“Gramps, I just wish everyone would just let it drop…”

             
“No, get on your jacket so I can go down there and give Michael Powers a piece of my mind.”

*     *     *

The school board is assembled in the gym when we walk in, but the room is otherwise empty except for a very young, dark haired man wearing black driving gloves. The Pedersens take turns shaking his hand as Gramps, and I take a seat. They talk to each other in Danish before Dr. Powers clears his throat.

             
“My apologies,” says the dark haired man as the Pedersens sit. “As I explained before, I am Bjorn Jensen, council for Sven, Henrik, and Christian Pedersen. They have asked me to come on behalf of Alexandra Singer.”

             
“You look very young for an attorney,” Principal Irons says, staring Bjorn down.

             
Bjorn’s face is emotionless. “Yes, I get that a lot. Let’s get straight to the point. Vanessa Powers has harassed Alexandra since her brother, Jackson Powers, was charged with stalking and assaulting her. This is inexcusable and will not be tolerated. If Seaside High School refuses to enforce their zero tolerance policy regarding bullying, we will be left with no choice but to sue the school district.”

             
“You have no proof,” Dr. Powers interjects.

             
“Yes, we do.” Bjorn holds up a stack of papers. “This is a list of students who will testify that they have personally witnessed the harassment. Included on this list are three of Vanessa’s friends who participated in the harassment. They have since felt guilty and are willing to testify that Vanessa was the mastermind behind their actions.”

Bjorn sets down the stack of papers and looks at the school board.

“If this isn’t proof enough, we have a video recording of Vanessa taping her indecent propaganda to school property.”

             
He presses a button on a remote and television turns on in the corner. The screen shows Vanessa taping her terrible flyers onto lockers, all the while bragging to the camera about the number of flyers she had put up that morning.

             
“It’s just kids playing a joke.” Dr. Powers shrugs it off like it is not a big deal.

             
“No, it’s much more serious than that.” Bjorn picks up the stack of flyers I gave to Christian earlier. He tosses it on the table in front of the school board. The massive stack is several reams thick and thuds loudly as it hits. “The nature of these flyers takes Vanessa’s actions beyond simple harassment to sexual harassment and child pornography. Add the fact that the photos were taken when her brother assaulted Alexandra, and her actions could be perceived as intimidation. We must also take into account that Alexandra must safeguard her public image. With this in mind, I add slander to the list of laws Vanessa has broken, and I haven’t even begun to talk about the violated school regulations.  If the school board does not take swift and immediate action, I will file a lawsuit first thing Monday morning, and I guarantee there isn’t a court of law that will condone this behavior. Mr. Powers, unless you want your daughter to face the same legal ramifications as your son, I suggest you put an end to this immediately. Furthermore, Principal Irons, I insist that you hold a special assembly to teach your students the dangers of sexting and sexual harassment. Obviously, you have a problem with these at this school.”

             
It’s apparent that the members of the school board know they are in over their heads from the dabbing of sweat from a couple bald heads to the avoidance of eye contact. Even Michael Powers is speechless.

             
After the meeting, Gramps chuckles all the way to the car.

             
“I’ve never seen Michael so uncomfortable in his life!” He laughs some more. “It’s good for him to learn that he can’t push everyone around.”

             
“I don’t think there will be any more problems with Vanessa Powers,” Bjorn says as we stop at the Pedersens’ convertible. He opens the door to a silver BMW. “When Principal Irons suspended her, Dr. Powers knew he had lost the fight.”

             
“It didn’t hurt that you threatened to sue him as well.” Henrik smiles.

             
“Cutting off the source of the problem usually works.  In this case, money speaks.”

             
“Thank you,” says Christian, holding out his hand.

             
“You are more than welcome.” Bjorn takes his hand, looking uncomfortable with the gesture. I’m not too surprised because Christian’s ticked off more than a few people with his mightier-than-thou attitude. “My life would be dull without some high school drama.”

             
The Danes laugh like it’s the funniest joke ever. Gramps and I just shake our heads, not understanding the humor.

             
“If you have any more problems, feel free to call.” He says a few things in Danish before getting into the BMW and speeding away

             
“Bjorn is a very talented lawyer,” Gramps comments as he gets into the convertible.

             
“Yes, I don’t know what we would do without him,” Christian says. “Now, Thomas, how long did it take you to win over Helen?”

             
“It was six months before she even let me hold her hand.” Gramps laughs. “In that way, you’re lucky that you’ve been able to kiss Alex.”

             
“Perhaps, but she broke up with me today.” He looks across Gramps at me, trying to catch my gaze. I angrily cross my arms and look away, still unwilling to forgive him for leaving.

             
“Yes,” Gramps says delicately. “I already warned you about that fiery Singer temper. Helen broke up with me, on countless occasions. It wasn’t until I convinced her to marry me that she stopped pushing me away.”

Gramps smiles in the dimly lit car at the distant memory.

“She was some woman! Even though she died young, I never considered remarrying. No one could ever compare to her, and it would be unfair to make another woman live in her shadow.”             

*     *     *

Saturday, Gramps lets me have an hour reprieve from my grounding to go for a walk along the seashore. In the last rays of the day, I watch the waves dance across the sand as I overlook the ocean. I pull my sweater tight. There is a chill in the air, which seems appropriate with the way I feel. The world feels like a cold and strange place.

             
Christian has tried to make amends with me by taking care of the Vanessa problem and sending me beautiful bouquets of flowers daily. I ignore him and his efforts. I’m more frightened of resuming a relationship with him now than ever before. Christian frightens me because with him I know I am in real danger of having my heart broken. I learned this when he left during his suspension.

Hearing voices, I look down the beach. In the far distance, Henrik, Sven, and Christian are swimming in the ocean. I know they can’t see me behind the rocky overhang, so I watch them swim through the waves.

They are playing some sort of game. They dive into the water, swim in a parallel pattern, and return to shore in the same configuration. The game is difficult in that they have to hold their breath for a considerable amount of time, and the speed with which they swim is incredible. I smile in appreciation.

As the game proceeds, they swim closer to where I am concealed. Not wanting to be discovered, and knowing my hour is soon up, I decide to return home. As I turn to leave, I rea
lize Christian hasn’t come up for air for a considerable amount of time. I scan the water for him, counting the seconds. My heart begins to race as he remains under the surface. Sven and Henrik are consumed with their game and don’t notice their cousin is missing.

I begin to panic. Now is not the time to allow fear to rule me. Ignoring my considerable terror, I pull off my sweater and dive into the waves. The dark frigid water takes my breath away, and I come up gasping for air. Every part of me is filled with fear, but I allow adrenaline to take over. Knowing there isn’t time to waste; I take a deep breath and dive down where I last saw Christian. I frantically scan the dark waters, seeing nothing but shadows and a stream of air bubbles. I follow the bubbles down to the ocean floor. I catch a glimpse of Christian’s blond hair. The water is dark, cold, and I’m running out of air. I know I must return to the top but I can’t leave him. Feeling around, I put my arms under his and push off to the surface.

At first, Christian tries to pull away, but I hold tight. He must realize it’s me because as soon as we break the surface, he puts his arms around me.

“Alexandra, what are you doing?” he asks. His body feels incredibly warm next to mine as I shiver uncontrollably.

“Y-you d-didn’t c-come up f-for air!” I stutter between trembling lips.

“I can hold my breath for a very long time.” He holds me close, wrapping me in a hug. A smile appears on his lips. “You were trying to save me and in the ocean nonetheless!”

“Of c-course!” I start crying with shock and relief.

He gently kisses my trembling lips, and I let him.

“Let’s get you to shore. You’re freezing,” he says.

Christian keeps an arm around my waist as we swim. The very water feels warmer around him. Although I’m in the ocean, I am happier in that moment than I have been in a long time. I have made the decision to forgive him. I feared I was going to lose him
, and now I am filled with relief. In spite of my fears, I must admit, the world seems right with Christian at my side.

We are almost to shore when Sven surfaces near us. He wipes the water out of his face with his gloveless hands.

I scream, my eyes not leaving Sven’s hands. I hysterically push Christian away. Understanding descends on me like an avalanche.

“Alexandra,” Christian frantically says.

I continue to scream.

“Alexandra, I’m not going to hurt you,” Christian swims toward me as I stagger onto the beach.

I fall backward, shaking my head.

“It’s a dream! It’s a dream!”

“It’s not a dream.” Christian steps out of the water, wearing black swim trunks which expose his perfect swimmer’s body, the kind all the guys want to have and the girls want to date. He has broad shoulders, sculpted pecks and abs, but that’s not what I’m staring at. I’m staring at his hands. Christian has webbed fingers. Skin connects his fingers together. That wouldn’t be altogether frightening, but there are also light green protrusions on the sides of his arms. His feet are webbed like his hands. Large, green, flaps of skin hang on both sides of his legs.

“Alexandra, I’m a merman,” he says slowly.

“I know what you are!” I begin to rock back and forth in the sand. “They told me I had made it all up! They told me I was crazy!” 

“You’re not crazy.” He pleadingly reaches for me.

I shun his touch.

“I know I’m not crazy!” I laboriously push myself to my feet.

“Let me get my clothes, and I’ll walk you home,” he says.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” I turn my back to him and run. For years I have been criticized for believing a mermaid saved me. I have endured the stares, whispers, gossip, and doubting of my sanity. I just can
’t…I can’t go through it again!

*     *     *

A merman, a merman!
I think, over and over, as I shudder in the shower.
I am such an idiot!
The signs were all there: the gloves, long pants and sleeves, only swimming in a wetsuit or at dusk and night, incredible swimming skills, and a ferocious appetite for sea food. All three of the Pedersens are mermen.

I turn off the shower. A jumble of thoughts and feelings barrage me, making me naus
eous. Pulling back the shower curtain, I lean over and vomit in the toilet.

“Alex?” Gramps says through the door.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” I wipe my mouth.

I put on a pair of warm pajamas and brush my teeth. I look at my reflection in the mi
rror. My eyes are red and puffy from crying. I quickly wash them with cold water, trying to return them to normal. I don’t want to worry my grandfather, besides how could I possibly tell him that our neighbor is hosting three mermen?

Putting a fake smile on my face, I go to the kitchen. I scream when I see the Pedersens sitting with Gramps at the table. They aren’t wearing their typical gloves and shoes. I avoid looking at them.

“Alex, it’s all right,” Gramps puts his arms around me. “Take a deep breath.”

“But they’re…” I can’t say the word.

“I know,” Gramps answers. “I’ve been a fisherman all my life.  I knew the moment I met them. Merfolk have always been friends of the Singers.”

This information doesn’t surprise me as much as it should. Gramps believed my account of the little mermaid since day one. However, I can’t deal with this right now. Pulling myself out of Gramps’ grasp, I run down the hall. Christian immediately gains on me. He grabs my hand.

“Alexandra, it doesn’t change anything,” he pleads. “I’m still the same person.”

“You’re not a person; you’re a merman!” I lash out like a hurt animal, ripping my hand away.

Christian’s face fills with sorrow, piercing me to the soul. I begin crying as I shut and lock my bedroom door behind me.

Theory #8 is upgraded to Fact #11- I
must
avoid the Danes!

Proof – They have fins!

8

Flight

             
“Alex, running away isn’t going to help the situation,” Gramps says.

             
“I’m not running away. I just need some time to think,” I say, shutting my suitcase.

             
“Going to Europe with Colin isn’t the solution. You need to go talk to Christian.”

             
“Christian needs to find himself a little mermaid and leave me alone.”

             
“He loves you,” Gramps says with exasperation. “And you love him. You’re letting fear chase you away.”

             
“I’m a stupid seventeen-year-old. I need to find myself. It’s time I left Maine.”

A car honks outside.

              “That’s Becky.” I open the door and turn to face Gramps.

             
“The problem isn’t going to go away just because you do,” he says sternly as he carries my suitcase to Becky’s car.

             
“I never said it would,” I kiss his cheek as Becky puts my luggage in the trunk. “I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

*     *     *

Breath in, breath out
, I tell myself. Starting with my toes, I flex my muscles and then release the tension. My leg muscles follow and I hold the tension for several seconds. I breathe deeply as I move onto the muscles in my thighs. Moving increasingly upward, I flex all the muscles in my body. When I come to my face, I contort it as long as I can. As I release the tension, I take several deep breaths. Someone removes one of my ear buds.

             
“Alex, they’re ready for you,” Cathy, my assistant, tells me.

             
I am silent as I remove my other ear bud and stand up. I don’t bother to look in the mirror behind me. My stylists know what they’re doing.

             
“Remember, you’re the finale,” Cathy says. “Walk slowly enough so everyone can see the bikini but quickly enough to have them begging to see more.”

             
It isn’t necessary for me to nod my understanding as I walk to the starting point.

             
“Alex, you look spectacular!” Becky meets me. “Thank you so much for doing this for me.  You’ll bring the house down when they see you’re here!”

             
“Ten seconds,” says a stagehand.

             
“We’ll see each other for the curtain call,” says Becky as I take my place on an elegant couch, surrounded by male models.

             
“Three…two…one…”

             
Six of the boys lift my couch while two fan me with large feather fans. I think to myself how ridiculous this is because I’m wearing a bikini, and it’s freezing, but it’s part of the show. Carrying me and the couch, the male models step out onto the runway. Becky is right. The crowd goes crazy when they see me.

             
“It’s Alex!” the audience screams. Cameras frenzy.

             
I keep my face stoic as I’m carried down the runway. When you’re wearing a bikini decorated with over a million dollars in jewels, it’s best to look like you’re taking your job seriously. No smiling while making this trip.