I am still editing this but here is a taste!
THE RESONANCE
by
Michelle Dry
Copyright Michelle Dry
Copyright Michelle Dry.
Insight:
‘They’re us and we’re them. There will never be a time when the two tribes will not be drawn to each other - that is our curse, our burden and our secret.’
CHAPTER 0
The Resonation
1834
A bizarre humming filled the air; it swirled about the remote Scottish village of Gardenstown - she was searching. The villagers purposely avoided discussion and glanced at each other knowingly. Quickly they scurried to their grey, stone cottages and closed down their shutters. Trouble was brewing, she would have her wrath and the culprit would die - it was inevitable.
CHAPTER 1
The fluid motion.
June last year.
The waves, that crisp morning, were perfectly formed. Each peeled elegantly towards the shore; rainbows danced amongst the offshore spray. The sun rose with a dark reddish glow, and in the distance, a cluster of tails pranced through glistening sets of surf. There was a subtle resonation; the final tail broke the surface and dived.
Calm.
Marty, wearing dark jeans and a green hoody, stood at the edge of the cliff top gazing down at the sea with his arms folded. His wavy hair was ruffled by the breeze. He swept a few whispy strands behind his ear and sighed. Should he go in? Shifting his weight, he knew the answer - it was just the thought of climbing into a damp wetsuit at that time of the morning. Scratching his wonky nose, he made his decision and turned towards his camper van. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a number of tails break the surface. Beyond them, a woman surfaced then submerged.
A large set of waves formed on the horizon. The swimmer splashed playfully. Had she noticed what was coming?
'Shit!' he muttered under his breath. The chemicals in Marty's stomach folded; instinctively he dashed down the rickety staircase. He navigated the shoreline, which was slippery with seaweed and littered with cockles. As soon as he reached the compact sand he broke into a sprint.
The first wave rose behind the swimmer and towered above her. Waving from the shoreline Marty attempted to warn her.
No response.
The wave created a huge wall, peaked and crashed down. She was gone.
Marty kicked off his shoes and dived in. The froth of the first wave roared towards him. He dived and surfaced to meet yet another powerful wave head on. He fought against it but it was too forceful. Rather than struggle, he took a deep breath, dived and surfaced beyond the break. Urgently he searched the water for the girl. He forced his eyes to stay open as he drove his face beneath the surface. Where was she?
Repeatedly he searched in different directions and paused. Could he see hair or seaweed? Another wave rose to create a wall. Marty glanced at it; the girl had not surfaced. He took another deep breath and dived. Beneath the waves, the circling mass of water spun him. In that moment, he glimpsed a shape and hair drifting in all directions. It was her.
Gradually the air evacuated his lungs and he sunk. Amongst the silent depths, he noticed a pair of sparkling, mischievous eyes watching. What was she doing? Unconsciously Marty shook his head; she was perfectly calm and appeared amused by his expression.
The pair made eye contact.
She smiled.
Silence.
Butterflies stampeded through his body. He was mesmerised. He desired to stay.
CHAPTER 2
Connection.
An ache of desperation shot through him. Survival instinct took over and he frantically swam to the surface. Glancing back, she became a blur - she was gone. After a few strong, arm pulls he broke the surface and gasped for air. Within a second, a wave crashed down and he was caught by the froth of white water. Urgently he inhaled and dived. Clearing the churn beneath the wave, he came to calm water and searched. Nothing.
Emerging from the depths, he swam beyond the breaking zone. What should he do? His mind was blank and his body was frozen. The sun was dark red and reflected on the green of the water. He was absorbed by the beauty of the moment. Life was fickle. He was only nineteen and ‘It’ had happened to his father only six months previously. ‘It’ could happen to anyone. Had ‘it’ just happened to her?
Marty wiped his nose and made a decision. A set formed on the horizon and travelled elegantly towards him. He swam, reached into the wave and body surfed towards the shore. He needed help.
Behind the wall of water, Marty caught a glimpse of a shadow travelling at the same rate as the wave. Rotating onto his back, he attempted to gain a better look. It was gone. As he drew close to the shore, the image of the girl under the water bothered him. Something was out of sorts. Why wasn’t she frightened?
Consumed in thought Marty waded through white water. At first he didn’t notice the subtle resonation, but it intensified and begged attention. He came to a halt and stood scanning the area. Nothing. The sound penetrated his mind and pulsated in his heart. The more he searched, the more the sound circled and spiralled. Splash! A shape broke the surface in the distance and was gone.
The water became motionless but the resonation remained. To Marty’s left, the girl rose from the ocean but only revealed her shoulders. She ventured tentatively closer, remained silent and watched him.
Marty was transfixed. The redness of the sun shone on her rusty, wet hair. Her pale, clear skin and glowing green eyes were stunning. She looked like a pre-Raphaelite painting. Marty blushed, she didn’t seem to be clothed but her hair conveniently covered all that was bare.
The girl smiled in amusement at his expression.
The resonation pulsated like a heartbeat.
He stepped forwards. She jerked away.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said softly.
She remained silent but blinked; her eyelids moved sideways.
Marty fought a frown but was curious.
She ventured closer and gazed into his eyes. Tentatively she reached out and touched his hand. A spark of blue light travelled across the surface of his skin and sent a tingle of warmth through his whole body.
The moment expanded. The resonation increased. They were connected.
CHAPTER 3
Ripples
“Marty!” called a strong Scottish accent.
Marty glanced over his shoulder.
Danny, Marty’s seventeen year old housemate, was waving.
Marty glanced behind him; the girl was gone. All that remained was a ripple on the surface. Shit!
With a flurry of sun-streaked, strawberry-blonde hair and a smattering of freckles underlining his pale grey eyes, Danny strapped his surfboard leash to his leg. He glanced at Marty and frowned. “What yer doing swimming in yer clothes?” he questioned.
Danny, was born and bred in Banff. He was shy until you knew him, then he was the cheekiest blighter around. He was famed for his random thoughts, “if yer did ney chew spaghetti them how would it come out the other end?” Was one comment that would haunt him for most of his teenage years.
“So why yer wearing yer clothes in the sea then?” asked Danny again.
“I thought someone was drowning,” Marty replied searching the horizon.
“I bet it was a seal,” said Danny. “It’s always a seal.”
Marty frowned, “no it wasn’t a seal.”
“So what was it then?” said Danny in a playful tone.
Marty turned to Danny and shrugged, “don’t worry about it.”
“Go get yer wetsuit on and we can go for a surf. That’s unless yer want to surf in yer clothes,” said Danny with a grin.
Marty looked down at his sodden clothes, “I reckon a wetsuit would be better. I’ll be back in a sec,” he said turning towards the harbour wall.
Danny studied his friend, “what’s bothering yer Marty?”
“Nothing.”
“Is it yer dad again?”
Marty shook his head.
“Have the nightmares calmed?”
Marty waded up the beach. “I’ll be back in a bit...”
“You know one day you will feel better…” said Danny launching onto his board. “I’ll see yer out there...”
Once Marty was in his wetsuit, he launched himself onto his board and paddled out back. For a while, he sat silently watching the waves. “Danny… This place… It’s got a lot of legends hasn’t it?”
“Aye, loads,” he replied.
“Anything about people and the sea?” he asked.
“A few… Actually most of them are about sea witches or women who used to swim out to save pirates from shipwrecks. Actually… There are loads about pirates. Why?” asked Danny studying his friend curiously.
“Just interested. We’ve only been here a few weeks and I don’t really know much about the place. Plus legends are interesting,” he said trailing his hand through the water.
“Oh there’s plenty to learn. We need to see me gran at some point and she will tell yer story after story,” said Danny. “Oh and she’ll feed you homemade shortbread.”
“Set coming,” said Marty, nodding towards the rising walls of water.
“Race yer,” said Danny paddling full speed.
Marty shook his head and followed – he was such a grub!
Marty quickly caught up and once the wave lifted, flicked himself to standing. The pair glided up and down the wall of water, absorbed by their favourite element.
“Look Shana and Johnny are on their way out,” said Marty riding off the back of the wave.
“Marty!” Shana called excitedly, with her thick Irish accent.
Shana was tomboyish and wore her raven hair, high and tied back. Her sharp, blue eyes showed a distinctly astute demeanour. Her eagle-like observation scrutinised people’s behaviour. She never missed a thing or commenting on it. Marty liked her brutal honesty. He always knew where he stood with her – even if it wasn’t favourable. He had never had that with any other girls especially ones that were eighteen.
“Marty you were out early this morning,” she said, being drowned out by a wave.
“Just after some quiet time,” he replied.
“Well now yer got the whole gang. It won’t be quiet now will it Marty? Shame about that eh?” she said flicking some water at him.
Johnny Boy, at twenty one, was the oldest of the group. A Celtic tattoo scribed over the right side of his face drew attention away from his freckles or maybe even joined them. He was solid, brash and for his own entertainment wore red lifeguarding Speedos with long socks. No one else ever got it but that was Johnny all over. He was his own person in his self-amused world.
“Shana get your arse on a wave!” he said. “That is unless you’re going to flounder about like a wee girl.”
“Ach shut it Johnny! I am a girl,” she said rolling her eyes.
“Come on Shana you know it’s about physique. I’m a hunter and you’re a gatherer,” he said flexing his biceps.
Shana shook her head. “Ah? Gatherer eh? I t’ink youse should be careful what yer say kilt boy!”
“Hardy, Ha, Haaa!” he responded laughing flatly.
Shana glanced towards the horizon; the next set was on its way. Johnny seized Shana’s board and stopped her paddling.
“Johnny!”
He held her there grinning mischievously.
“Will you let me go? Next ones mine. Ladies first and all that!” said Shana prizing herself from Johnny’s grip. As she paddled, she glanced over her shoulder and gave Johnny a filthy look. Johnny trailed behind like a pet dog.
Marty raised an eyebrow. “He so fancies her.”
Danny was quiet as he watched her catch the wave.
Johnny Boy paddled swiftly for the next one, bounced up onto his board and raced along pulling as many manouvres as he could.
Shana finished her ride and was in the midst of paddling back when Johnny pulled a floater, landed it and ended his ride with a showy, backward dive.
“He’s such a tart!” said Danny shaking his head. “Shana can do so much better than him!”
The pair turned their boards slowly. A fresh set of waves were approaching.
“Erm… Danny I had bit of a strange thing happen this morning.”
“Aye… And?”
“Look I thought I saw a girl drown today. She was under for ages... Then after about ten minutes she just turned up... It was so weird. And you know what? I think she was naked... What do you think?”
“Naked? She must have been cold,” he said glancing at the horizon.
“Danny before the word naked there were a number of other sentences. Could you tell me what you reckon to those as well?”
“A naked women under the water for ten minutes? That’s ney possible- is it?” said Danny stroking his chin.
“That’s what I thought,” said Marty.
“They normally wear something,” said Danny turning to paddle with a grin.
Marty huffed, his friend was still smirking as he cut into the wave.
Marty followed, caught the wave and returned out back.
Danny was sitting facing the horizon.
“Joking aside Marty. Did yer really think she was drowning?” Danny asked.
“Yeh. She was under for ages. It doesn’t make sense and there was this weird… Sound,” he said quietly.
Danny shifted on his board and studied his friend thoughtfully. “Did she fart?”
“No!”
“Well then she probably had a diving canister and that made the noise. Marty there is always an explanation. Don’t start getting involved in the legends… The legends around here will drive yer mad!” he said honestly.
“Danny I really don’t know how to say this but she… Well she was different. It wasn’t right Danny. Her eyelids did weird things too,” said Marty.
“Marty mate, listen to yerself... Anyway girl’s eyes always do weird things when they fancy you. Now I think we need to catch something an’ get back to shore. We can talk then,” said Danny with a look of concern. He gestured to the next wave, paddled and rode it all the way in.
For a moment, Marty sat in contemplation. He glanced at the next set and paddled; a second later, it closed out on him. He ended the pummelling by pushing from the seabed and forcing himself to the surface. For a few seconds he grappled for air before the next wave landed on him. Carnage! Amongst the underwater turmoil, a female hand reached out and guided him to the shallows. That same magnetic sensation pulsated through his arm.
Once Danny reached shore, he waded up the beach to join Johnny Boy and Shana. The pair stood waiting impatiently on the beach. They had watched Marty suffer yet another pounding but no one said a word. They had all been through the same process at one time or another. Shana was once washed up on the beach in front of a group of old women sitting on a bench, wearing white hats, stuffing ice creams into their wrinkled, old faces. “Look it is a girl I told you Morag,” they had said in fits of laughter.
Humiliation!
Marty and the girl remained in silence catching their breath.
“Iris,” she said pointing at herself.
Marty nodded, “Marty.”
She held his hand tighter and blinked. Her eyes made the same sideways motion, “tomorrow,” she said.
A resonation filled the air.
“Tomorrow?” asked Marty.
Iris searched the horizon; she appeared guilty.
She blinked a couple of times, her eyelids moved sideways once more.
“Go now,” she said reaching out to touch Marty’s hair.
A second later, she submerged.
On the beach, Johnny shifted whilst drumming on his board. Shana shot him a look; it made him smile and drum louder.
For a moment the water calmed and the group witnessed the woman submerge.
“Is Marty with a girl,” asked Shana curiously.
“Aye the little bugger..” said Danny with a jolt of realisation.
“Come on yer rat, spill the beans,” demanded Johnny.
“Erm… I do ney know exactly. Just a girl,” said Danny.
“What exactly do you mean by that then?” asked Shana curiously.
“Was she... Naked?” asked Johnny brightly.
“Yep. Bare as baby’s back side. She could be even barer!” said Shana.
“How do you get barer than a backside?” wondered Danny.
No one answered.
“Let’s go and get changed. We’ll be late for work and I canny say it was a naked lady that made me late!” said Johnny, preparing to walk up the beach.
Marty emerged from the ocean and jogged up the beach towards the group.
Johnny glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “Marty I think yer friend has gone under and ney come up. She’s been under a while. That’s no’ physically possible,” he said shaking his head.
“Don’t worry about her, she’s some sort of free-diver- I think,” he said glancing at the water.
“Marty I’m a Life Guard. Yer not going to get one past me. Now I know about these things. The fact is: she’s been under a long while so yer need to keep an eye out.”
In the distance, a shape broke the surface and disappeared. “Was that her?” asked Johnny glancing at Marty.
“Johnny she’s fine. Now let’s get changed,” he said walking to the rickety old staircase.
Out to sea Iris broke the surface and dived.
“Look at the distance she’s covered, that’s ney physically possible,” said Johnny. “She must have an identical twin. The average person canny survive three minutes without air. She was a couple of times that,” he said scratching his cheek.
“What’s going on Marty?” asked Shana.
Marty shrugged.
“Let’s get dressed,” said Danny. “Now I canny pee in this suit any more, I’m getting cold,” said Danny, stomping through some mermaid’s purses.
“Nice, very nice, glad to know that there Danny,” said Shana sighing.
“We all pee in wet suits Shana, even girls. They just have the added advantage of getting both sides at once. Nothing worse than having one leg warmer than the other- I say,” said Danny climbing the stairs.
“Ach Danny!” said Shana shaking her head. Why were boys so crass?
Chapter 4
Crooked cottages and bent straight lanes.
The group stood on the cliff top overlooking Gardenstown.
“I like it here,” said Shana pulling on her crimson, fleecy sweater.
“There’s something mystical about it,” said Danny.
Johnny raised an eyebrow as he loaded the boards on the back of his hulky red Land Rover. “Come on yer wee girl,” he said to Danny.
Danny folded his arms and glanced at Shana who smiled seductively back.
“Move yer skinny wee arse Danny! We’ll be late for work,” said Johnny noticing how he looked at her. “Get in then,” he said. He slammed the door and nodded at Marty and Shana as he drove off.
“Are you coming with me then Shana?” asked Marty.
“If that’s okay now. It’s not like we have a choice anyway. Bertha is more comfortable than that hulky Landrover,” she said. “You know… I think Danny must have run here again,” said Shana.
“Danny is always running somewhere,” Marty said opening the camper door and gesturing for her to climb in.
Shana paused and gazed down at the small village. “You know I like the little houses next to the harbour,” she said. “It really is quaint here Marty.”
Marty nodded but glanced back at the cove. The girl was bothering him.
The pair were silent as Marty drove Bertha down the hill.
“That girl,” said Shana breaking the silence.
“What about her?”
“You like her don’t you?” said Shana studying Marty’s reaction.
Marty shrugged, “Shana I only just met her and she seemed nice enough.”
“You’re glad to be here in Gardenstown aren’t you?” said Shana quite out of the blue.
Marty nodded, “I never thought I would leave London and live in such a quaint village. If anyone had told me I would live close to a lighthouse, I would have said they were mad. A year ago dad was trying to get me to work in the city and then... Well then... We know what happened. Suddenly it all seems so ridiculous. I was going to follow in his footsteps and become a trader…”
“Marty me gran says that a crisis will bring a person to change. You’ve had the crisis so yer life has changed. When yer look back it will be for the best,” she said glancing at Marty and giving him an affectionate pat.
Marty sighed, “I wish that was the case. I would rather have my dad around Shana. I was finally going to get to spend some time with him - even if it was working.”
He glanced sadly at the empty road ahead, as they navigated the desolate streets leading towards the harbour.
“My goodness Marty - quiet isn’t it?” said Shana purposely changing the subject. “The morning rush is as much as an old man on a bike and someone walking their dog!”
“Don’t you reckon the houses in the village look as though they’ve been piled on top of each other by a giant hand?” said Marty gesturing towards the village.
“If that’s what yer see Marty then that’s what yer see,” said Shana quite obviously not seeing it.
“I am an artist…” said Marty.
“Ach Marty yer are what yer are…You see a giant hand and I see a bunch of tiny cottages. If we were all the same now…” she said.
Bertha came to a halt by a circular bay near the harbour. Marty attempted to gauge the size of a parking space next to the harbour edge. He paused and glanced up Straight Lane.
“Crooked Cottage on straight lane…” said Shana following his gaze. “You picked well there Marty. Who would have thought we would live in a cottage with such a nuts name now. It really is brilliant and it is an individual amongst the other cottages,” she said with a smile.
“I like the fact that Straight Lane suggests it is straight. How wrong could they be?” said Marty.
“Now I reckon it must have been named by someone was wasted trying to walk in a straight line. A circle would have been straighter,” said Shana smirk.
Marty glanced at her. Not only did Shana laugh at her own jokes, but she had a certain way of saying things that made absolutely no sense. She was stupidly brilliant!
“Now let me out before you get onto that damned harbour. I hate that bloody sheer edge!” she said. Quickly she launched herself out of the door and scrambled up the hill. Marty carefully parked. The ten foot drop to his right left no room for error.
When Bertha was secure, he climbed out of the passenger side and walked the hill to Crooked Cottage. The curtains either side of the lane twitched. Why didn’t people think they could be seen through backlit, transparent curtains He stopped and waved at one particular old woman peering through the curtain at him. She looked behind and made a desperate run for it (an old people’s run). Marty chuckled and paused outside crooked cottage. He felt so at peace there. It felt so secret.
He turned the key in the lock, took a deep breath and walked into utter mayhem.
“Get out me way, I’m a girl I need to wash!” screamed Shana thundering down the stairs wearing a towel.
“I’m going to be late Marty. I mean it Danny, get out of me way!” shouted Shana. She scrabbled for the bathroom and slammed the door in Danny’s face.
In the meantime, Johnny Boy stood in a daze on the stairs wearing his speedo’s and long white socks.
A flurry of bodies jostled about Marty, each hurried about the house trying to grab whatever they could. Marty watched them collide with each other in the corridors while they grew increasingly frustrated at each other’s time spent in the bathroom. Danny didn’t really need to rush because he worked at the local surf shop; a laid back joint where he basically hung out all day talking about surf. Johnny worked at the Life Guard hut on the main beach between Gardenstown and Banff. Shana was taking part in her apprenticeship at the local garage. She was causing quite a stir. Marty, on the other hand, simply had one floor to climb. He would spend the day painting in his studio.
The physical tornados calmed when Johnny, Danny and Shana departed the cottage in an indiscernible bundle. All fought playfully to get down the lane first. Marty breathed a sigh of relief, space. He wondered back up to the middle floor and paced about his digital dark room and studio. He fiddled about for a while in procrastination and finally sat on a chair he had designed especially for his art.
After making himself comfortable, he sketched enthusiastically. Every image he completed he stuck to the wall. On completion of the third sketch, he stood up and admired what he had created: a series of images of Iris under water. It seemed she had caught his imagination and appeared in a pose that resembled Venus de Milo. Chewing his lip, he adjusted her legs. He hadn’t seen her legs had he? No matter what he did, he just could not get them right. Were they long, short, slender or defined?
With the urge to fidget, he wandered across to an old bookcase in the corner. He traced his finger across the outer covers. Candide by Voltaire, Nautical Tales and Olde World myths of Mermaids. Marty picked up the third book and flicked through. A section called Mermaids and muses - a compilation of stories caught his attention. The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Anderson 1836, Ondine by La Motte Fouque 1811, and Mermaids, Sirens and other lures 1835. At the back of the book was a handwritten scrap of paper. Marty carefully unfolded it:
13/6/1836
‘Never was I so shocked as the day that the little lady came singing at us from the water. She sang so well she mesmerised. The innocent wee creature seemed a wee bit nervous and hid behind a rock. I thought she a little strange as she swam, almost bare, with breast like that of a woman. The girl, fair and pale, showed no worries of growing cold either.
Doris my fellow seaweed gatherer made her way for a closer glimpse. We thought it strange the wee girl not say a thing and just sing - if that is what yer call it. The eerie hum bore through my very being and swam through me mind. Something about the girl did ney feel right and fear stopped me making a step forward. There were stories of the women of the sea and their curses.
Doris was more adventurous and ventured forward for a closer look. When she saw through the water she reacted violently. The whites of her eyes and no blood in her skin ended in her collapse. The we girl did ney like the reaction and disappeared under the water. As she departed, we, all of us, saw something strange: her legs moulded together and deformed. She swam gracefully at speed and then disappeared. I... no... I canny say... but the Devil mutates his spawn. There have been stories from the circus when they pass. They say this area provides many a spectacle.
15/6/1836
Today a body of a deformed woman arrived on the beach. She was caught in a net by Cameron, me husband. He was distraught, like he’d killed a human and ney a mutation. It was said by Gilbert that we were to keep this finding quiet. It was too late, for the three of us had confessed to the priest the night before. We asked to be released from the Devil. A remembering appeared in the chronicle who published the findings. I canny say who released the information of THE INCIDENT. But on that day, in those empty eyes I saw my future and it ripped through my soul…
