EYES LIKE PEARLS
Susan Jett
Mara looked around her room at the scatter of pebbles and bits of dried kelp littering the windowsill. She wanted to bring it all home, every broken seashell and grit of sand, because it had been a perfect summer, despite this afternoon’s fishing fiasco. Tomorrow morning, just before they left, she’d sweep everything into a suitcase. She didn’t want to risk leaving anything behind and her mom could just wash the sand out of everything when they got back home.
Ugh. Home.
Today her dad had laughed when she asked if they could just move here, and she’d smiled obligingly because he’d obviously thought she was kidding. But she hadn’t been. They’d spent almost a month in the sandy little beach town where her mom grew up, and Mara had expected to hate it. But then she’d met some of the other summer kids. She’d met Garrett, who lived in town, and decided this spot was the most beautiful place in the world. Her best friend Kyla was going to be so jealous.
Mara glanced over at the clock by her bed. 8:30. She’d already missed moonrise. Garrett would tell her all about it though, if she asked him, and she couldn’t leave until after her parents came to check on her. They wouldn’t bother her after that. Mara heard her dad limping around the tiny family room, his prosthetic leg thumping loudly. He was probably trying to dance and doing it badly for effect, since her mother was laughing fondly. In her bedroom, Mara rolled her eyes. Her parents were such enormous losers.
Her mom had flat-out refused to go deep-sea fishing this morning, but her dad had bribed Mara with a trip to the mall when they got home. It had been kind of fun sneaking away, like they were getting away with something. But being seasick hadn’t been fun, and being attacked by a giant fish hadn’t been fun either. The barracuda’s blood had been pink and watery where it pooled on the deck, and hers was red and disgustingly viscous where it dripped onto the fish’s silvery scales. Stupid fish. Its teeth had grazed her knuckles when her dad dragged it over the side while she was puking. When she’d yelped and lurched away, her father hadn’t even asked if she was ok, just started whacking it with his cane until the captain of the little charter boat had intervened, scooping the long body up and dumping it into a freezer on the deck. “Keep on like that, sir, and it aint gonna be good for anything but chum.”
The memory made Mara want to vomit again. And seven hours later, Dad was still acting like clubbing a fish to death had been the high point of his summer, maybe his life. He’d even served the dead fish for dinner tonight, like they didn’t sell perfectly good fillets at the Piggly Wiggly.
“It doesn’t work that way, you know.” Mara’s mother had bitten off the words between her tiny, perfect teeth as she stared at her daughter’s bandaged hand. “It’s not like you can scare it out of her.”
“It was an accident. You know I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”
“I know you were so busy trying to punish me—again—that you didn’t much care what happened to anyone else. Even our daughter.” Her mother had stared at him, her black eyes unblinking, then she’d pushed away from the table, her dinner untouched. Mara watched her go and then she and her dad traded embarrassed looks. Still hungry—though not really for clubbed-to-death fish—Mara went to her room soon after, annoyed with them both. Everyone thought their parents were the most embarrassing humans alive, but surely hers really were.
The bandage itched and Mara rubbed it irritably. At least Mom had been outraged on her behalf this afternoon. Usually it was Mara who made her angry. They’d been clashing more and more this last year, with her mom demanding to know her whereabouts every minute of the day. At least just now it was Dad being scolded like a kid, even if the only real danger Mara had been in was from puking her guts out. If she hadn’t been so sick, she certainly could have gotten out of the fish’s way, no matter how toothy it was—and it really had possessed far too many teeth for a normal fish, she thought. Trust dad to find a mutant fish to kill. Not that she’d seen many live fish to compare it to. The mountain town they lived in was about as far away from the ocean as you could get on the East Coast.
Mom was right, though, that Dad hadn’t seemed to care when she’d gotten hurt. He’d been too busy pretending to be Ahab. Mara felt a moment of resentment directed at him, too, now. Because no matter how many stupid sharky-looking fish he killed, he was still just a frumpy English teacher who’d lost his leg in a car accident long before Mara was born. She’d seen pictures, and he’d been good-looking once upon a time. But now, between all his scars and his leg, Mara sometimes wondered what her mom saw in him anymore. Mom was drop-dead gorgeous, even now that she was old. Strangers turned to watch when she walked by. And when she could be persuaded to perform, everyone listened as raptly as if they heard angels singing.
Mom knocked at her door now and Dad asked her to play Monopoly with them. Fat chance. Though having them gang up on her was more comfortable than listening to them fight. But this was her last weekend here, and everyone had been collecting driftwood for days. Not only that, but Garrett was going to bring his guitar to the bonfire. Mara had never heard him sing, but he could practically be a rock star with that hair, and the way his voice sounded when it went low—it made her insides flip around like a school of little fish trapped in a net.
Which was actually kind of a disgusting comparison.
But there was no way she was going to miss this. And she could be back again before morning with no one the wiser. Tonight would be hers, and if she was lucky, Garrett would be hers, too. All summer long they’d been circling each other—inching together, then drawing apart. He was older than her, yeah, and maybe back in June he’d thought of her as a little sister, but surely by now he knew better. She’d made him laugh last week, a real out-loud laugh, not a big brother kind of laugh. And while her parents might decide to come back here next summer, they might not. And anything could happen between now and then. Maybe Garrett would find a girlfriend. Maybe he’d move away or something. This might be her last chance, and Mara was willing to risk being grounded for a year in order to make it happen.
She caught one last look at her reflection in the mirror as she threw one leg over the windowsill and grimaced to check for spinach stuck to her teeth. Her eyes gleamed like pearls and her lips looked dark in the moonlight. She looked older. She looked like her mom. Then she giggled and the illusion was shattered and she was just fifteen again.
The noise her rubber-soled sneakers made, gritting on the sandy porch, made her cringe, but it certainly wasn’t loud enough to be heard over her dad’s ridiculous laugh. Practically skipping down the worn steps, Mara hurried to the beach, wending her way through the tight-packed little cottages as easily as a clownfish navigated a coral reef.
The full moon was already up, barely kissing its twin out on the ocean. Faint music came from over by the big pile of rocks, and she headed that way, following the glow of rising sparks from the fire. She hoped Garrett liked her outfit. She hoped he asked her to go for a walk. She hoped she didn’t embarrass herself somehow, and she especially hoped that he wouldn’t guess she’d never kissed anyone before.
As she got closer, she heard a boy singing, his voice stretching thin on the high notes. She knew it was him. His guitar playing was more assured than his singing, but she thought he sounded as good as anything she’d ever heard on the radio. Better maybe, because he looked up just as she stepped into the circle of firelight and his whole face lit up when he met her eyes. She felt an answering jolt in her own body, like they were connected by a thin line of electricity. Her hand under the bandage tingled. Maybe it’s the full moon, she thought. Or maybe this is what destiny feels like.
Picking her way through the crowd, she murmured greetings and accepted a beer some older girl handed her. She sipped absently before remembering how much she didn’t like beer. Garrett smiled again and nodded at the empty spot next to him though he didn’t stop playing. He was finger-picking a song she’d heard her dad play in the car. Her dad’s taste in music suddenly seemed a lot cooler than it had five minutes ago. “I know that one,” she whispered as she sat down and pulled her knees up close.
His smile warmed her more than the fire. “No one else here seems to know anything cool.”
She hummed quietly, almost under her breath, but when Garrett smiled, she sang louder, and was rewarded by the look of gratified surprise spreading across his face. One by one, all the whispering kids turned to listen, drifting into silence, their mouths falling open. She’d never felt so powerful, so mature. This must be how her mom felt when she performed. No wonder she loved it. Buoyed by everyone’s obvious admiration, Mara made sure everyone could hear her, drawing them to her as surely as if she held ropes tied around their necks. By the end of her song, Garrett was barely playing, just strumming random notes, as entranced as everyone else. There was an instant of astonished silence when the song ended, then they broke into applause.
Mara giggled a little, nervously, and felt her face flaming. She wasn’t embarrassed, though. She was triumphant.
Garrett leaned over and whispered, “That was amazing.” His breath was as warm as sunlight. “You’re like a professional. Why didn’t you tell me you could sing like that?”
“It’s nothing special,” she said modestly, though she was rather astonished herself. Her mother always teased her that she could barely follow a tune, but then, her mom hated listening to other people sing. This felt wrong, somehow, like a dream. Surely Mara would remember if she’d suddenly learned to sing?
Garrett held out his guitar but she shook her head. She could no more play a guitar than she could fly to the moon. And she had no desire to ruin the perfection of this night with stumbling, halting attempts to recapture what she’d just done. No, as it stood right now, this was a perfect night to end her summer on. She didn’t want to ruin it.
Sighing happily, she wondered if Mom had built a hotel on Park Place yet and won the game like she always did. She wondered if Dad had eaten the last of the fish steaks, and also wondered why her stomach rumbled so enthusiastically at the thought; he was a terrible cook. Of course, she hadn’t eaten much of the bruised steak he’d served her, so maybe that was why she was so hungry now. She wondered if Garrett was going to laugh at her for making these embarrassing noises.
Instead, he said the words she’d been hoping to hear for the last month: “You want to go for a walk?”
She set down her bottle while he tucked his guitar safely into its case. If her hand was empty, maybe he’d offer to hold it. They stepped away from the party, and walked in silence until Garrett took her hand carefully and threw out a teasing question about all the boyfriends she must have back home. She felt herself blushing with the effort of acting oblivious. This was it. She was going to kiss the handsomest guy she’d ever met, and she was going to tell Kyla all about it tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. Unless Ky’d had an amazing summer, this was so going to be the juiciest thing they’d ever had to talk about.
She felt his thumb exploring the bandage on her hand. “What happened?” She told him the story of her great fishing adventure, only leaving out the part where she got sick, and he laughed at all the right parts, though she wished he’d leave her bandage alone. Didn’t he know that people bandaged things because they hurt? Still, this was Garrett, and she’d forgive him anything if he’d just look at her with those eyes again...
His hand was slightly clammy, but his body radiated heat. She shivered and enjoyed the sensation of being surrounded by his warmth as he pulled her closer to him. When they were far enough away from the bonfire that the individual voices had blurred together, he bent his head down and kissed her gently, just pressing his lips against hers. The shock of electricity that careened down all her nerves startled her, but she felt more alive than she’d ever been.
All her thoughts were centered on the taste of him in her mouth, salty and sweet as taffy. Warm as sunlight on a hot summer day. As delicious as a promise she meant to keep.
“Ow!” He yelped, pulling back hard and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. His grin was reassuring, though, as he reached out a hand and ran his fingers from her shoulder down the front of her t-shirt. “You’re enthusiastic,” he teased. “It’s ok. I like a girl who does more than just stand there. I can’t believe I thought you were such a goody-goody when I met you.”
The sound of the waves was overwhelming. It sounded like the ocean was inside her brain, and she longed to be in the water, to bring him into the water with her. Laughing, she dared him with her eyes to follow, toeing off her sneakers and kicking them aside as she went, teasing him with glimpses of her flesh as she pulled her tee shirt over her head and unhooked her bra. Her long hair tickled her shoulder blades as she ran; letting him pursue her, letting him think he could catch her. Letting him think he wanted to.
She dove headfirst into the surf, and it was like coming home. While the summer night’s air had been stiflingly hot, the water was perfect, cool and silver. Garrett splashed in beside her, his big clumsy body as out of place here as a bull’s, as a human’s. Mara reached for him, clinging as her legs grew weak. She cupped the back of his neck, pulling his face down to her in the shallows. He made a noise of surprise against her mouth, and it was like feeling the deep sounds of whale-song echoing in her bones. She felt her lips stretch wide, as if her mouth was growing to accommodate more nerves, more sensation there, at the tip of her tongue and there, along the line of her lips where the flesh was so sensitive...
Her hands were all over his body now, plucking at his clothing, pinching the fat, hot flesh beneath. He tried to pull away, but she held him there easily, nibbling at him, then taking him in, so salty and rich in her mouth. When his moans turned to whimpers, she sang to him so sweetly that her voice harmonized with his ragged breaths until his life faded into the sounds of the sea.
After that, it was a long night of swimming, of singing, of doing things she’d never even dreamed of in her home on top of a mountain. Then at dawn, she coughed and spluttered. The waves flung her to shore, rejecting her, keeping only the fiercest part of her and leaving her bereft, forlorn, completely alone. Gathering up her clothing, Mara staggered home. She did not look at his guitar, leaning against the driftwood log where he’d left it. She did not pause by the dying embers of the fire. And she certainly did not look back to see if anything might still be drifting like kelp in the surf.
When her mother found her lying naked on her sandy, fouled bed, she just stroked Mara’s tangled hair and didn’t try to meet her eyes. “We’ll be home tomorrow, sweetie. It’s easier there, I promise. So far from the sea.”
Something about her voice made Mara raise her head to stare at her mother’s tongue running along the edge of her front teeth, back and forth. “You knew,” she rasped, through her salt-roughened throat. “Why’d you bring me here? Why didn’t you tell me?”
The hand stroking her hair faltered, then continued its slow soothing motion: as rhythmic as waves, as inevitable as currents, as slow as a heartbeat pulsing through dying limbs. Mara’s mouth tasted of blood, and without warning, she vomited over the side of her bed. Her mother held her hair away from her face and dropped a beach towel on top of the mess, preventing Mara from seeing if that had really been a fingertip. His left hand, she thought muzzily. She’d seen the slightly yellowed callus left by the strings of his guitar.
With a sigh, her mother sat up and looked out the window toward the sea. “You’re so much your father’s child. I didn’t know if you had it from me. I had to be certain.”
Mara didn’t want to say the words, but she blurted out, “Did you ever do something like this?” Her mother nodded, and Mara forced out the question: “Is he still alive?” She was pretty sure Garrett wasn’t. She was pretty sure that was a good thing, given the parts of last night that she remembered.
“My first boyfriend?”
Mara nodded her head and her mother said quietly, “Yes, sweetie. But don’t worry. Next time it’ll be easier to stop before you get so carried away.” There was a long silence, broken only by the eternal sound of the waves on the strand before her mother sighed. Bending low she kissed Mara’s gritty forehead, like a benediction or an apology. “Let’s go tell your dad we’re nearly ready to go. He’ll need a few minutes to put his leg back on.”