Chapter 4
Four
“Beibei.”
Angie shifted her weight on the living room couch, lightheaded with images of the pearl-studded mermaid and her companion. She straightened at Bàba addressing her, her mind bursting with words she had been waiting to tell him. “I know you just got back, but when I was diving, we saw mer-”
On his way to the kitchen, he stopped short next to Angie, and peered down at her. “You saw what?”
Angie formed her next words in her mind before speaking them aloud. “The divers were right. We saw a mermaid and a merman.”
“Are you sure?” Bàba dropped his hand and cleared his throat. “Mermaids?”
“I know it sounds crazy. Then there was a school of arctic char over my head and right in front of us. The mer herded them away from us. After that, they all disappeared.” Angie’s voice dropped to a murmur. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
“So you found them,” he said under his breath. He began to pace, scratching his jaw.
Angie waited to see how he would react next.
He stopped pacing. “I’ll have to think on this. For now, come help clean up. Your jiějie and her family are coming over.”
“Oh, sure.” Angie’s chest and shoulders deflated as she walked to the kitchen as if she were on autopilot, and put the clean dishes into their cabinets. She would tackle Lulu’s litter box afterward. After telling him the news, she was dying to know what went through Bàba’s mind.
He wouldn’t tell her until he had gathered his thoughts, and he always claimed that the more he moved and did, the clearer his mind.
“When you’re done, take the compost out. I’m getting the garbage.” Bàba called over his shoulder, holding a large black bag, filled to the brim.
Angie threw up her hands. She quit.
After tying the compost bag closed, she jumped at a black and white face peering at her from behind the bin, whiskers and tiny pink nose twitching.
Running underfoot and almost tripping Angie, Lulu mewed as she scuttled away to find her next hiding place.
“Lulu! You scared the shit out of me.” Angie let out a loud yelp of surprise, and Lulu stopped, turning her head to one side, her mouth opening to release another “Meow?” This one sounding more tentative.
The cat returned and wrapped her tail around her ankles, headbutting her.
“Oh, now you want cuddles after nearly making me fall?” She sat cross legged, and Lulu climbed into her lap, kneading her jeans.
Then she curled into a furry ball, turning over to expose her belly.
It was the softest part of her, but Angie knew better than to scratch it.
She could switch from cuddly and loving to swiping at her in a blink with all eighteen claws.
When Lulu decided she had enough and left, Angie resumed her duty. The trek to the compost bin was a three-hundred-foot walk across gravel, and she grunted, struggling to keep steady while holding the bag firm.
Balance was never her strong suit, and the last thing she needed was to trip and drop the bag, spilling five gallons of trash all over the impeccably kept driveway. Her rubber boots crunched on packs of loose pebbles, the path dotted with puddles from the morning rainfall.
The bag made it to its bin, and she dusted off her hands while squinting at two figures in the woods, a quarter mile away. They held plastic bags, and the man squatted to pick up something, inspecting it before dropping it into their shopping bag.
Huh. What were Dave and Jenny doing here?
Were they foraging? Angie had grown up with them, and they had never given off the impression that they were struggling to feed themselves and their kids.
Angie hiked over to them. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Oh, hi, Angie.” Jenny shielded her eyes with one hand and gripped the container in the other. Her face scrunched as if it would repel the sunlight. “Looking for food; Peter’s hungry.”
Angie’s posture stiffened.
“Got a couple huckleberry and lingonberry handfuls and broccoli,” Dave added, motioning to their shopping bags. “I was out all morning at the pier. Got a couple of them pink salmon, enough to feed us for a day or two.”
“We have some tuna and rockfish,” Angie tried. It was normally the type of fish her village shied away from, but it was still food.
“I can’t be eating all that mercury.” Jenny shook her head. “I’m pregnant. We went through all our stored food already.”
“I’ll eat them,” Dave said, with a grunt.
Jenny’s gaze darted to him in a look that Angie couldn’t read. “Alright. We’ll bring some over to your place tonight.”
Dave nodded, appreciative.
“And congratulations on the new baby,” Angie offered weakly.
Jenny gave her a despondent smile. “Thanks. The Ngos, Estrellas, and the Davises have been out all day and night at the pier and on their boats. We were hoping to get some of their extra catches, but even they don’t have enough.”
“Took that long-ass ride downtown with a couple others to Amy and Carol Lum’s shop. Everything’s twice as expensive and they were running low on a lot of meat and veggies,” Dave added. “Something about demand being too high for how fast they can resupply. It’s bullshit.”
This situation was getting worse and worse.
Dave furrowed his brow. “What’s going on with your dad? He was so good about bringing us fresh seafood, supplemented whatever our anglers were getting.” Dave smiled, seemingly to himself. “Still have no idea how he got away with bringing all those fish back.”
“Well, he owns the docks, so he can do whatever he wants. And there’s been a shortage of fish.
” Angie forced a chuckle. “The catches have been getting smaller. You’re not imagining it.
” She didn’t want to divulge merfolk to them just yet–no need to send anyone into a panic until they confirmed what was happening.
“But what’s going on? We’re not the only ones who’re hungry,” Jenny spoke up, her voice rising. Dave rested a hand on her shoulder, and she calmed.
A truckload of resolve smashed into Angie’s gut.
The villagers relied on her family’s weekly deliveries of salmon, halibut, cod, and shellfish to survive.
Their littoral village was surrounded by water on three sides and dense forest on the fourth side.
Its cold soil yielded a limited number of crops, adequate to feed the villagers if they were coupled with a healthy supplementation of seafood.
Their scarcity of crops was not conducive to raising livestock.
The next town was over fifty miles away by air.
If even their tiny grocery store downtown—a ninety-minute trip away and where new stock was airlifted in once every two weeks and mostly served the downtowners—was spiking in their prices and running low, her villagers would begin to starve.
How long did the merfolk intend to hoard the fish?
It had only started three weeks ago. The ocean’s ecosystem would be upended.
It was a horrifying thought on both ends.
The young couple stood before her, their expressions silent and pleading. “I’ll talk to my bàba,” Angie said, voice resolute. “Promise.”
Angie didn’t get the chance to talk to Bàba again before Mia, Nick, and Rosie arrived.
He hadn’t lost his perfect, host touch, that was for sure. She admired his handiwork.
That night, the sprawling dining room was lit wall to wall with dimmed lights shaped like flowers and leaves. Bàba and Māma had wanted the dining room to be lodge-inspired, the walls and triangulated ceiling appearing to be made of stacked logs.
A long, solid wood table sat in the middle, seating ten, reminding Angie of the days when her parents hosted get-togethers for the villagers and threw surprise birthday parties for her and Mia.
Once, she couldn’t wait to get out of Creston and move away for college. Four years later and she now relished the comforts and memories of her childhood home.
The fireplace roared in the living room, spitting out tiny chunks of crimson and jet-black embers, warming the space like a cozy blanket.
Angie rushed over to drop aromatic dried herbs and cinnamon sticks inside, keeping the pleasant, fruity, peppery, and earthy scents circulating and drifting into the kitchen.
Tonight, Mia and Nick brought a crockpot-sized meal of homemade bison chili, enough so they would have leftovers for the next two days.
Lulu made sporadic appearances and delighted Rosie who waved a laser pointer around.
Nick stood from the table, leaving a portion of his food uneaten. He moved into the living room and play-wrestled with Rosie while she shrieked in laughter, spooking Lulu, before Bàba called him back to the table.
The night was going off without a hitch, and conversation flowed.
Until after dinner.
Nick stayed sitting while Mia, Angie, and Bàba cleared the table.
“You going to help or just sit there?” Angie faced Nick once Mia and Bàba disappeared into the kitchen. She wasn’t sure if her biting tone would get Nick’s attention, or if, as usual, he would ignore being called out.
“You go ahead. I’m watching Rosie.” Except Nick was turned away from Rosie, who ran around and shouted for Lulu. Plates and cups stacked in her arms, Angie walked to the kitchen, shaking her head. She left Nick’s dirty dishes in front of him.
Clean your own plates then, prick.
“I’m still not used to this house without Māma,” Mia was saying when Angie joined them. “I miss her.”
Bàba set his lips in a tight line and gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
He didn’t meet Mia’s eyes for a beat. Hanging back, Angie’s heart ached at the mention of Māma, with memories of how she made delicious recipes passed down from her own mother–Angie’s wàipó, still in China–many of them involving their favorite food, rice, in some form.
Angie, Bàba, and Mia would affectionately call them fàntǒng, meaning “rice bucket.”
“Thank you for the food,” Bàba said, finally meeting Mia’s gaze.
“Of course,” Mia said. “We were able to get Amy and Carol’s last two pounds of bison. And the prices definitely went up, on everything.”
“I heard.” Angie stepped into the kitchen. She turned the sink on and ran the hot water over the plates and mugs.
Bàba raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Beibei, I was thinking about what you said. About the mermaids.”
“Wait, what?” Mia cut in. “Mermaids?”
“Gōnggong! Gōnggong!” Rosie rushed to Bàba.
“Papa told me to say thank you for inviting us for dinner. So, thank you!” Then she stopped short and spun around to face Angie and her mother, her mouth agape.
“You found mermaids?” She bounced up and down and clapped her hands with glee.
“I have to go tell Papa!” She dashed back into the living room.
“Great, she’s never going to leave me alone.” Mia cursed, and then groaned. “Angie, did you actually see mermaids? Because it’s nuts if you did.”
“Angie āyí! Did you see the mermaid that dropped my bracelet?” Rosie had returned, waving her bracelet at Angie and Mia.
“Okay, that’s enough about mermaids for now. Let’s go find Papa.” Mia rubbed her face and took Rosie’s hand, leading her from the kitchen.
Folding her hands behind her back, Angie twiddled her nervous fingers where Bàba couldn’t see them. “What were you thinking about, with the merfolk?”
“I think we should find out what they’re doing.” Bàba’s voice rang flat and even.
Angie stood straighter. “And where all the fish are going.”
He gave an absent nod, dark brown eyes trained on the floor. “Yes. I will arrange to have deep sea cameras placed around where you found them. See if we can follow their path.”
Dave and Jenny flashed in her mind. How many other villagers were also suffering? Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. “I’ll help.”
“Good.” Bàba nodded, still not facing her. “But, the mer have seen us lurking in their area. They could be dangerous. We don’t know a thing about them.” His tone sounded unnaturally stilted. “Be ready for anything.”