I caught my breath from the laughing and looked around. Over by the church I could just make out the tip of the bright white wing that belonged to Callum’s angel. As soon as I saw it, I realized that being here was a very, very bad idea indeed.
“Every single cell in my body is telling me to go home right this second and wash all these germs away.”
I held my hands up in front of me and turned them back and forth, seeing disease crawling all over them.
“There’s nothing on them, Matthew. It’s fine,” said Melody.
I shook my head.
“You’re wrong. They’re everywhere. I can’t stay here—it’s too dangerous. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”
I picked up the shopping bag using the cuff of my shirt and began to walk away, back toward the alley next to Old Nina’s house. Melody skipped around me and walked backward, in my way.
“You can go back and wash, of course you can! But first, just come and see something with me. Please? You can do all the washing you want when you get home, just delay it for a couple of minutes—it’s worth it, I promise.”
She stood in my way and held her arms wide, and I hesitated for a moment. That got her smiling.
“A couple of minutes, three at the most. That’s all it’s going to take, Matty, honestly. And if the germs really are going to get you, then three minutes isn’t going to make much difference, is it?” She laughed, but I didn’t join in this time.
“Come on, follow me!”
Her hair flowed behind her as she ran off toward the corner of the churchyard where the oldest gravestones were.
I stood in the bright sun and weighed my options. I could head home and feel the relief of washing, or I could delay going home for a few more minutes and see what this crazy girl wanted to show me. I thought of something Dr. Rhodes had said at our meeting. She said that I needed to confront my fears and trust in myself and that if I took a step off my continuous wheel of worrying and cleaning, I’d be all right. I reached into the bag and ripped the top off the box, and my anxiety eased a little when I put a pair of gloves on. I looked to the left where Melody had headed, took a deep breath, and followed.
This part of the graveyard was overgrown and the ground was uneven where the coffins had rotted away, leaving spongy soil ready to swallow someone up. Most of the stones were illegible, their surfaces mottled with lime-green lichen. I spotted Melody behind a cross that was leaning at an awkward angle.
“Oh good, you’re here!” she said and she glanced at my hands but didn’t say anything.
“I’ve just come to say thanks again for getting the gloves, but I’m going back now. I’m not feeling great and I think I’ve tried to do too much. I feel dizzy. I need some water, I think.”
As she stood with her hands on her hips the dappled sunlight danced around her, picking out flecks of auburn in her hair.
“But you’ve come this far! Honestly, it’s really worth it. Just come over, have a quick look, and then go. Okay?”
She crouched down next to a grave and pulled at some weeds. I just needed to walk five more paces, see what it was, then run home, sprint home. I could go straight upstairs and into the shower. It’d be fine. I could then clean my room, wait for the hot water to warm up again, then have another shower if I felt like it. I edged my way toward her and she turned to me, her face beaming. My feet twisted as the mounds of earth pressed against the thin soles of my shoes. I stood at the other side of the grave from her, my gloved hands tucked under my arms.
“Look,” she whispered. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
At one end of the grave stood a typical oblong headstone with some faded words, but in front of it and lying on a large, gray slab of stone lay an exquisitely carved mermaid. It was about half the size of Melody, and the detail was extraordinary.
“Isn’t it amazing?” said Melody and she brushed some soil and leaves off the mermaid’s tail. I knelt down for a closer look.
“Wow. Did someone carve this?”
“Yep, they certainly did …”
She gestured at the headstone.
“… in 1884.”
The mermaid was facedown, her shoulders slightly hunched with her forehead resting in the crook of her right arm. Her hair cascaded around her in stone waves that covered her naked back. The tail curved upward, the contours of its muscles supporting the large, uncurled fan at the end, slightly chipped on one side. As the sunlight flickered along her scales, the mermaid shimmered. It was as if she was still wet from the sea and was just here resting for a moment. I bent down to take a closer look and could almost imagine I saw her back rise and fall as she breathed. I tried to see the expression on her face, but it was hidden, never to be seen.
“Is she asleep?”
Melody pulled at a few more weeds.
“I don’t think so; I think she’s crying. She’s a mermaid in mourning.”
I studied her hair and for a fraction of a millisecond was tempted to touch a curl, but I didn’t.
“Why a mermaid? Who’s buried here?”
I didn’t want to get any closer, so I squinted at the headstone as Melody recited it by heart.
“Elizabeth Hannah Reeves. She died on the twenty-ninth of October in 1884, aged twenty-eight, but it doesn’t say anything else about her. I’ve tried looking in the church records to see if I can find out more, but I didn’t get anywhere. Maybe she went to sea once and thought she saw a mermaid but nobody believed her. Or maybe she just loved the idea of them. Who knows? But whoever she was, she’s left behind this beautiful grave.”
I watched her tugging at some ivy and thought maybe I’d been wrong about her all along. The constant talking I’d seen at the doctor’s was probably just nerves; this calmer, relaxed Melody was actually quite nice to be around. And she’d bought me gloves without asking questions. And she still seemed to like me even though she knew everything. Nearly everything. Maybe knowing what I’d done to Callum would change her mind though.
“I started coming over here after school before Dad moved out to avoid all the arguing. That’s when I found her.”
Standing up, she folded her arms.
“When I was having a bad day I thought about the mermaid, secretly sleeping here day in and day out. It took my mind off things.”
Reaching down, she brushed some more soil from the mermaid’s tail.
“It’s a sad grave though. On nearly all of the headstones here there’s more than one name—husbands, children, parents, they all seem to share a plot, especially the older ones. But Elizabeth Reeves is here all on her own. She only has the mermaid for company.”
I know how she feels. I thought about the Wallpaper Lion, and the thought of my clean, safe room sparked my anxiety again. The distraction of the mermaid faded as my chest tightened and my breathing got faster.
“Melody, I really need to go home now. The grave is great, thanks for showing me.”
I turned and carefully stepped through the tall grass back onto the footpath.
“I know you watch me from the window,” said Melody, catching up with me. “I know you were wondering what I get up to here. Do you think I’m weird?”
I shook my head.
“Good.”
We walked along a little way in silence, and then I saw her reach into her pocket and bring out the little white card. I stopped as she held it up for me to see. In one corner there was a pale, cream-colored lily with a dark green stem. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust from the dazzling sunlight, but the pale blue printed text eventually came into focus: IN LOVING MEMORY.
Underneath in black ink was a handwritten note:
Forever in my heart. C.
It was a memorial card.
“Where did you get it?”
She put the card back in her pocket.
“Over by the church. It was on the grave of a man who lived to ninety-eight. How great is that? To live to such an old age.”
She was smiling but I wasn’t smiling back.
“I don’t understand. Why have you got it? Why have you got someone’s memorial card in your pocket?”
“I collect them.”
I stopped and faced her and her smile disappeared.
“You do what?”
She folded her arms. “I go around the graveyard and pick them up and put them in albums. I take them so that—”