The Turning Tides

CHAPTER Three

LANDMINE



~



“That’s great news honey! Tell your aunt I’m looking forward to seeing her… and meeting Dutch too. I’ve had a few delays, but I promise we’ll have a big celebration when I get back.”

Dad’s voice sounded very small and far away on the phone, and it made me miss him once more. I’d grown used to being without him, but it was high time he came home. I couldn’t wait for him to meet Ethan.

“And when will that be?” I asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. It seemed like every time he got close to finishing his research, one problem or another cropped up, keeping him weeks past his original deadline.

“Two weeks, tops. I promise. I just need to collect a few more samples.”

“Hurry back,” I told him. I could hear some voices in the background.

“Sweetie, I have to run, one of the farmers I’m working with is taking me out to his fields. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I hung up with a frown, uneasy. So much about me had changed since he went away; I was having a hard time imagining how it would be between us when he returned. I was stronger than he realized, and much more independent. I had been hardened by ordeals I had purposefully kept from him, tempered like a steel blade by hot anger and cold determination.

I pulled up to school early and made my way to the science building, slipping into the advanced marine biology class. I sat in the back, ducking down and trying to be unobtrusive. Professor Powell came in and spoke to the class about the work they’d be doing at the lab. I tried to disappear behind another student, but I think he noticed me. I was grateful when the lights came down and he gave a presentation about the Citation, a new research ship the University had just acquired with a generous private contribution.

I sat up in my seat as he proudly showed us pictures of the craft, describing its special sonar capabilities and underwater cameras. The ship boasted custom made tanks, and was equipped with sling hoists to lift large fish and marine mammals. It was a floating laboratory, and Professor Powell would be taking it on his maiden voyage in the coming weeks. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

His voice was excited as he announced the ship’s first mission: a fully funded year-long study to catalogue the genetic diversity of the many species of dolphins and porpoise that frequented the bay. The ship had been outfitted with air propelled net cannons that could ensnare and immobilize even the fastest cetaceans for quick capture, using the hoists to scoop them up. They planned to capture and temporarily hold some of the larger marine mammals at sea; measuring, weighing, and taking blood samples before releasing them back into the ocean.

I realized it would be the perfect mermaid hunting vessel, and I wanted to throw up. Everything Yuri had told us about their plans was ringing true.

When the professor went on to tout the latest genetic sequencers the program had just received due to the generosity of the late Congresswoman Barbara Watson I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. The lights came up, and several students asked questions about the launch schedule and various aspects of the research, but I could no longer focus. My mind was racing, my thoughts elsewhere.

What could I do about it? I imagined sabotaging the ship, breaking into it to destroy the equipment and making it look like the work of a protest group… Or maybe I should go directly to the source and hunt down Nathan Edwards… I sighed with frustration. As angry as I was, I knew I wasn’t capable of murder as a pre-emptive measure.

Then there was the muse Olivia. She was encouraging this whole endeavor, and perhaps seeking immortality for herself as well. The thought occurred to me that most of the hybrid council members would probably jump at the chance to extend their lives of luxury; no doubt many of them could care less who they had to destroy in order to achieve endless life.

I looked up to meet the professor’s eyes. The class filed out and I got up to go, trying to lose myself in a throng of students before he could intercept me.

“Miss Vanderpool– ” he called out as I passed. Did he know? Now I was getting paranoid.

“Professor Powell,” I replied, stopping at his lectern.

“I thought that was you,” he smiled with friendly eyes. “Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves? This program is set up incrementally, although with your background, you might be uniquely positioned to move ahead a bit faster than the average student.”

I looked down modestly, “I’m sorry I didn’t ask before I audited your class… I must admit, I’m very curious about all the new research. I find it extremely exciting.”

He laughed his agreement, “Oh yes! This program has truly undergone a Renaissance in the past few months– do you think your father might be interested in stopping by the lab to take a look?”

I looked up at him with a smile, “That’s a wonderful idea! He’s due back from his latest research project in about a week. I’ll bring him by then.”

Ha! I thought, nepotism strikes again. I hurried out with a smirk, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to me before. I was sure that Dad would like to see the facilities out of sheer scientific curiosity; unfortunately, he would also be uncomfortable with my sudden interest in marine biology. I was thinking about how to ask him about it when an old familiar feeling stopped me in my tracks.

A sharp stabbing pain blinded me, and I groped for the wall, rounding a corner to lean against the bricks to steady myself.

~

I was weightless, strangely suspended. My hair was flying all around, waving in front of my eyes slowly. I struggled to pry a man’s hand off my wrist, one finger at a time. His body slowly spun around, and we came face to face. His eyes were wide open, regarding me with a blank, flat stare. They were cold and lifeless, the eyes of a statue. I knew that he was dead, and I shrank away in horror.

~

When my mind cleared I found myself crouched on the ground, my head in my hands. I looked up, relieved to see that no-one was around, and I leaned back against the wall to catch my breath. Great. I was underwater with a dead man, only I was very much alive. That could only mean one thing, and I shuddered down the whole length of my spine.

I had no stomach for sitting through an art history lecture after that, so I left campus early, retreating to the safety of my car to recover. Ethan and I were going to start moving my art studio into his place this afternoon, and I drove to Abby’s, thinking about how much better I’d feel once I was wrapped up in his arms again.

I wondered how he would react if I told him what I just saw, and I waged an internal debate over how to handle it. I hated to worry him, but he had a right to know. I wished my visions were more concrete, but they never seemed to telegraph anything, other than the fact that more trouble was on the way. Like we didn’t know that already.

I felt like a walking disaster area.

I pulled up to see Dutch and Abby had made it home from the hospital, and stepped inside to find her sitting on the couch with Adria in her arms. There was soft music playing and the delicious smells of food cooking in the kitchen. Abby looked up at me with a beatific smile. The whole scene was one of such domestic tranquility and bliss that it made my breath catch in my throat.

“Come sit,” she patted the couch next to her. “She just woke up.”

I settled down, leaning over to see a beautiful little face peeking out from a bundle of blankets. She yawned, her toothless mouth twisting sideways, and then closing with a few smacks of her rose colored lips. She looked up at me with dark blue, unfocused eyes that seemed both wise and innocent at the same time.

“This is your cousin Marina,” Abby told her.

“Hi Adria,” I spoke gently.

“Can you take her for a minute?” Abby asked, passing her over to me. I reached out and took her gingerly. Abby got up and stretched, “I’ll be right back… Just be sure to support her neck.”

I nodded, and looked down at the helpless little person in the crook of my arm, bringing her close to me. A tiny little hand worked its way out of the swaddling and clutched my blouse, surprisingly strong. I studied her miniature fingers and nails, surprised a hand could be so small, and yet so perfect. I forgot all about my disturbing vision, and impulsively kissed the top of her downy head, inhaling the sweet scent she gave off.

“Smells good, doesn’t she?” Abby said, plopping back down beside me. “It’s been so long since you and Cruz were little I forgot.”

I smiled back at her, and we both watched as she turned her little face from side to side, nudging against me.

“What’s she doing?” I asked.

“She’s hungry,” Abby laughed. “I’d better take her.”

I passed her back carefully and got up to go to my room, “I’d better go check on little Stumpy.”

“Stumpy? That’s terrible!” Abby said.

“Blame Ethan,” I laughed my way down the hall.

I went to my room and picked up the kitten, heartened to see that he seemed to be scooting around a little better. I picked out a roomy tote and packed my favorite jeans and a nightgown, stuffing the rest of the bag with shoes. I imagined how Ethan would tease me and smiled to myself. I couldn’t wait to see him and tell him about Adria. I packed another tote with the cat’s things, slung them both over my shoulder and scooped up Stumpy to take him along with me.

Abby looked up from nursing the baby, “Where are you taking him?”

“I think I may have a home for him. I’ll see you later.”

“Won’t you stay for dinner?” she asked, “Brad and Cruz are coming down to see the baby… And Dutch is making his famous lasagna.”

“I’m sorry, but I have plans tonight. Tell the guys I said Hi.”

I hurried out the door before she could ask me where I was going.

Stumpy turned out to be a good little passenger, settling down on the seat beside me. The purr of the engine seemed to soothe him to sleep, and I looked over to see him curled in a little ball. When I got to Ethan’s I slipped him into the front pocket of my pullover and climbed the vine covered stairs, knocking gently.

Ethan opened up right away with a smile that widened when he saw my bags. He went to hug me but I pulled back, protecting the little lump I harbored in my pouch.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worried.

I pressed my lips together, and reached into my pocket to pull out the sleepy little cat. I looked up at Ethan hopefully. “Just for a couple of days, until we can find a home for him…”

He rolled his eyes with a sigh, “You know, that’s the oldest trick in the book.”

I widened my eyes, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stumpy blinked a few times and yawned.

Ethan laughed and took him from me, holding him up with one hand to regard him. The kitten yawned again and blinked. “He is kinda cute.” He pulled me in by the arm and closed the door behind us, leaning over to kiss me. We walked over to the couch in a lip-lock, easing down into each other’s arms. Ethan leaned over to put the cat down on the floor, brushing the hair out of my face and looking into my eyes.

“I love you Dollface.”

We were rolling on the couch when a plaintive meow made us both look up. Stumpy was standing up on all fours for the first time, his short back legs wobbling unsteadily, his tail held straight out like a rudder behind him. We looked back at each other and laughed.

I wiggled out from under Ethan and sat up, “I should probably get all his stuff set up.”

He grabbed me around the waist and we fell back down again, a tangle of arms and legs and hands and lips. The phone in my purse rang and Ethan started kissing my neck, working up to my ear, “Don’t answer it,” he whispered.

“Answer what?” I asked, turning into his face.

The phone stopped ringing for a moment, starting in again immediately. Ethan sighed.

“It might be important,” I said, wrenching myself from him. I sat up and groped for my purse while Ethan laid his head on my lap and looked up at me with dreamy eyes.

God he’s cute, I thought, reluctantly pulling my phone out to see who the persistent caller was. It started ringing for a third time.

I checked it and answered, “Aunt Evie? What is it?”

Her voice was tense, “There’s been an accident… I need you to pack some things right away.”

“An accident? Who? What happened?”

Ethan sat up, his face suddenly serious.

“It’s your father… I’m afraid he’s been hurt. He’s being air-lifted to an army base in Germany.”

“But I just talked to him,” I protested, her words not quite registering. “Why didn’t he call me?”

She paused, “I’ve got the jet ready to go, and I’ll send Boris to bring you to the airport– I just spoke to Abby– Where are you?”

“I’m at Ethan’s,” I answered numbly. “How is he? Did you talk to him? What happened?”

“Marina, we need to leave right away. I’m afraid it’s serious… It… it was a land mine.”

“I want to talk to him,” I cried.

She sounded reluctant to go into detail, “Apparently he hasn’t regained consciousness.”

“Oh my God.”

“Boris can be there in an hour.”

“No! I’ll get to the airport myself– it’ll be faster.”

Her voice was calm, but I could hear the fear in it, “Are you sure you can drive?”

“I’ll be right there,” I hung up.

“I’ll take you,” Ethan said.



I told him what Evie had said on the ride to the airport, trying to keep from crying. Ethan kept looking over at me, squeezing my hand and patting my leg. I could tell he didn’t know what to say, but just having him by my side kept me from panicking. I was glad he was driving.

We pulled up at the security gate to find Boris there, waiting to wave us through. He looked more serious than ever when he directed Ethan to the runway. We pulled up to the jet and I could see Evie’s outline in the doorway. Paul stood at attention at the bottom of the steps.

Ethan and I clung together tightly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of house keys attached to a little wooden surfboard. He pressed them into my hand.

“Come home to me soon… Be careful…” his voice was gruff.

“I love you,” I said, unable to stop a single tear from rolling down my cheek.

We kissed one last time and I climbed out, running into Evie’s arms with a sob, unable to look back. Paul followed me up the stairs and closed the hatch, taking a seat in front. The whole thing seemed like a dream, like something that was happening to someone else.

Evie took my bag and directed me to a seat, strapping herself in the chair alongside mine and taking my hand.

“It’s going to be alright.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Because it has to be,” she said, leaning back in her seat as we started to taxi down the runway.

After we were airborne she told me everything she knew, and it was chilling news. My father had been out surveying a field with his local assistant, when the young man stepped on a land mine, killing him instantly. Spared the brunt of the explosion, Dad had been severely injured nevertheless, and had to endure a long drive to the nearest military air base. They had immediately transported him to a hospital in Germany where he was in an induced coma due to his head wounds.

“The doctors there are the very best,” Evie tried to reassure me.

I sat numbly, letting the whole thing sink in. I must have spoken to him right before it happened… Could my vision this morning have been a metaphor? The thought that it might have been a bad omen chilled me to the bone. What use were muse powers and visions if they couldn’t keep my loved ones safe?

“Evie? How could it have happened?” I asked her with tortured eyes. “I mean, with both of us on his side…”

She shook her head sadly, full of remorse, “I had a bad feeling about this one. I should have stopped him. I should have known–”

“Like anyone could have!” I burst out. “It’s not your fault Evie.”

She sighed, leaning back in her seat. She looked at me hopefully and in a small voice said, “Sometimes… often…things seem to happen without any rhyme or reason. But just when you least expect it, the very best is waiting just behind the tragedy… and in the end, you see that it was all meant to be.”

I looked down. The normally unflappable Evie suddenly appeared utterly fallible, and the world seemed like an even more dangerous place than ever before. I closed my eyes and thought of Ethan, wrapping my hand around the keychain he’d given me. It was a symbol of our future life together, and I said a little prayer that my father would be alright, picturing him and Ethan meeting each other.

Evie got up and brought me a blanket, tucking it around my shoulders, “You look tired. Try and get some sleep.”

I smiled up at her, wanting to make her feel better too, “Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine, and he’ll be coming home soon. He promised.” I reclined my seat and closed my eyes, suddenly too tired to hold my head up, “Evie? Why isn’t Boris coming along? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you travel without him.”

“Paul is more than up to the task of keeping watch over us. I need Boris to stay in San Francisco to attend to some things for me.”

I nodded, glad that she hadn’t chosen Yuri to accompany us. I was tired, and my head was starting to hurt again. I yawned and stretched out my stiff shoulders, reclining in my seat. Like little Stumpy, I let myself be lulled to sleep by the hum of the engines. I drifted away on a cloud tinged with worry.

~

Fatima’s face loomed in front of mine, intoning, “There are two men, one dark and one light… There are two women, one dark and one light.” She kept repeating the same words over and over like a chant, until they blended together into one sound with no meaning. Her face started to spin, and the noise grew to a roar as I felt myself falling...

~

I started awake, looking across the aisle and into Paul’s concerned eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

I nodded, watching as he got up and came back to hand me a glass of water.

He patted my shoulder, “We land in an hour.” I watched him disappear into the cockpit.

Evie called me over to a table in the back of the plane, and I got up to see the surface was spread with Tarot cards.

“I thought we agreed to leave that to the professionals,” I chided her gently. Try as she might, she’d never been able to get the cards to give up any secrets about the future.

“I’m just passing time,” she said with a toss of her head, but I knew she was shaken– rattled by the prospect of an uncertain future, and feeling responsible for being unable to prevent my father’s accident. Despite all her talk of fate, Evie thrived on being in control.

“He’s tough,” I said, slipping into the chair opposite hers. “He’ll be okay.”

She gathered up the cards and forced a smile, “Let’s have some tea and eat something, shall we?”

I nodded, watching as she carefully put the beautifully illustrated deck away in its carved rosewood box.

She sighed, looking out the window, “I suppose that how a person masters their fate is more important than what their fate actually is.”

I had to agree.





~