Awaiting Destiny Read online

  ISBN: 9781624881213

  Chapter 1-Under the Shroud

  Under the shroud of early morning darkness, a giant snail covering a mass of wiry green hair that looked like a clump of seaweed broke the calm surface of the sea just outside of a bay known as Enchanted Cove. After scanning the water for any nearby boats, Mertin, the best of the Mermail Express mailmen, risked rising his manly top half partially out of the water to take a cautious peek into the bay. These movements made his thickly muscled torso and arms feel oddly heavy, because he was used to feeling nearly weightless underwater. He had to beat his great tail extra hard to keep afloat, causing a myriad of little whirlpools to form and dance on the surface.

  The snail helmet he wore seemed to also have a difficult time being out of water as its grip seemed to slip and it started to slide down the side of Mertin’s greenish face until one eye and most of his nose was covered by the snail’s mushy underbelly.

  Mertin absently pushed the snail upright. This motion pulled his wrinkled skin taut on one side, which caused his kelp-colored beard appear to be lopsided. The snail looked as if it might be squeezing a little too hard on his head because Mertin’s olive green eyes were bulging out a bit more than normal.

  “Oh, for Sea’s Sake! Loosen it up a bit, will ya, Snail?” Mertin said, rapping on his helmet. He was not as young as he used to be and figured he needed all the circulation his brain he could get. Snail jiggled slimily a moment, making a loud sucking noise like a soda bottle opening until he was perfectly perched like a bird on a hair nest.

  A tightly fitting snail helmet was an absolute necessity for mermail men. It became part of the company uniform after some of the best had been tragically lost to headfirst encounters with “messages in bottles”. Of course, most mermail men found it absolutely shocking that topside people ever got their mail with such a poor postal system. They found it necessary to simply toss the bottles onto shore in hopes that some silly topsider would eventually claim them. What else could they do as the bottles rarely had a delivery or return address?

  Mertin reached for his purple sea cucumber mail pack and pulled out his “Special Delivery” package to read the address again. This was more out of habit than anything else. He knew where he was going and perfectly well for whom this most important package was meant.

  “Sufferin’ Shrimpatash!” he exclaimed, nearing the Enchanted Cove Marina entrance. “I’m retired, for heaven’s sake! Haven’t had to work a secret service mission in years!” He rapped sharply on his helmet. “Hear that! Snail, old buddy? Years! If it wasn’t a special request from King Dolphinium himself… I wouldn’t a-taken on such a painful assignment. The misses t’would make shark bait out of me fer sure… if she knew.”

  Mertin had retired from his bodyguard position in the Secret Mer-service the day he delivered Princess Shelleen’s newborn baby onto the deck of that cursed boat and essentially into the hands of a lousy topsider. It made no difference to him that this particular topsider happened to be the baby’s father and Shelleen’s husband.

  It was entirely bad enough that he had to watch Shelleen grow up from a beautiful little mermaid to an intelligent, adventurous, not to mention extremely stubborn merwoman, only to fall in love and marry him! Jacob Mariner, AKA good for nothing topsider! It was all in the past and just too painful to remember.

  He didn’t mind the quieter life as a mermail man that much. It gave him more time to tend to his sprawling coral gardens, though he missed Princess Shelleen terribly.

  “I have to say, Snail, it t’will be good to see wee Destiny. It’s been so long; I wonder how she faired growin’ up topside, without her mother an all. It’s a darn shame.” His bushy green eyebrows furrowed and his eyes were clouded with sadness. “I tell ya, leavin’ that tiny mer-princess, t’were the hardest delivery I ever had to make.” The snail wiggled slightly on his head as if it were agreeing.

  The package he held was the size of a large oyster shell, wrapped neatly in a soft green sheet of plankton and tied neatly with red wire coral. The tag was folded and sealed with a wax stamp bearing a gold crown surrounded by dolphins. It read:

  DESTINY MARINER OF ENCHANTED COVE-SEADANCER

  Mertin put the package carefully back in the pack and continued to cautiously swim into the cove’s sleepy little marina. He noticed that the cove itself hadn’t changed much in the 13 years that had passed since he had seen it, but the Marina had certainly grown. It was barely more than a feeble dock when he had seen it last. Now, several docks with every type of seagoing vessel were lined neatly in a rather impressive collection of slips and covered walkways.

  “Well, looks like that Jacob Mariner fella has done okay. I can only hope baby Destiny has fared as good,” he mumbled grudgingly to himself. “Never could tell what Princess Shelleen saw in that huge, clumsy boy.” He shook his head, changing his look from sad to disgust.

  The water was smooth but murky behind the breakwater. Only Snail and Mertin’s eyes protruded above the water as he swam silently, avoiding any light reflections from the nearby waterfront buildings and boats.

  “Well, if I never have to deliver topside again it will be too soon,” Mertin spat. Snail squeezed harder on his head, quivering nervously. For most sea creatures, going anywhere close to land was dangerous and smelly and all that free-flowing, dry air tended to make them queasy. Mertin, like most mermen, considered himself to be quite handsome and preferred not to turn his pale green tint a few shades darker with a stomachache.

  The marina residents were quietly sleeping except for an orange striped cat perched on the bow of a sailboat like a quiet sentinel guarding his post. The cat cocked his head sideways and watched the strange pair approach. Mertin winked, grabbed a sea biscuit treat from his pack and tossed it onto the ship deck below the cat. He wasn’t sure if cats liked sea biscuits, but they had certainly saved him from many dogfish bites on his normal route at home. The cat, obviously exhausted from his guard duty, ignored it and curled up into a ball to nap.

  “AHH, ee ungrateful beast,” he scoffed, under his breath. He resisted the urge to toss another biscuit to the cat, only harder and right between its eyes. He would save his sea biscuits for later. They just might settle his stomach after this spine-tingling mission was over.

  He dove under and swam just below the surface of the water passing through several clumps of seaweed and small colorful fish. He stopped cautiously behind each boat to read the names on their sterns as he passed. It had been a long time since he had seen the Seadancer and he wasn’t sure if he would recognize her.

  Footloose, Raintamer, Knotbigenough. Finally he saw the stately, double masted sailboat tied at the end of the last dock. The name Seadancer was printed in fancy black letters on the back. Just as he remembered, the carved wooden mermaid still graced the prow as it had back then. Seeing it again brought a painful twinge to his heart. His beloved Princess Shelleen had insisted on living on that floating contraption. Though it had been little more than a wreck last time she had set eyes on it.

  The boat was now rather impressive despite its obvious old age. Moonlight reflected brightly on the tidy wooden deck and the masts towered high into the darkness like a ladder to the night sky.

  “Looks like we made it, Snail,” Mertin whispered, breathing a sigh of relief as they approached. He dove under water again, held his breath and swam slowly along the bottom of the boat, listening intently for any sounds of movement above echoing through the hull.

  He covered his ears and started to breathe again, hearing a loud rumbling noise on the starboard side. “AHH, that’ll be the lass,” he said quietly, flashing a lopsided grin. “Mermaids always snore like the dickens when sleeping topside.”

  He surfaced quietly in the shadows and rummaged
through his sea cucumber pack for a slingshot and a small, rusted fishing weight. He loaded the slingshot with the weight, licked his lips a few times for luck and carefully aimed and shot. The weight sailed through the air expertly and the light went out in a shower of tiny sparks.

  “That’s better,” he said, with a relieved grin. He hadn’t had to try that in years! He still had the touch! He put the sling shot back into his pack, feeling a bit safer with the shadows safely covering the side. He then stretched his arms high over his head and dove back underwater, bearing straight down on the muddy bottom. Then fluidly, a split second before he hit, turned sharply upward and intensely beat his tail. He leapt completely out of the water and grabbed the open windowsill with both hands. The water rushed from his scales like rain from a shingle roof and his tail beat awkwardly in the air.

  The boat rocked slightly under his considerable weight and he froze, waiting for it to settle. His bulky arm muscles flexed as he hefted his body up and wiggled the lacy curtain out of the way with his nose. Moonlight filtered in, somehow finding room around his big head and snail helmet to shine down on the form of a sleeping girl. Mertin stifled a laugh as he peeked through. “Mer-princess indeed!” he whispered.

  Destiny snored so loudly it sounded as if her small stateroom was occupied by an angry, rampaging elephant rather than a lovely girl of thirteen. Stray wisps of pale blond hair escaped the confines of the baseball cap in which she had fallen asleep. Her graceful features were partially covered by a glob of pink chewing gum that had fallen out of her mouth and dried like putty to her cheek, hardly the picture of grace and poise one would expect from the daughter of a merprincess.

  Still, she looked like a young version of her mother, except for the hair. Princess Shelleen’s tresses were a crimson red with pink highlights when seen underwater. Mertin let a deep sigh escape, still shaken at how Destiny had grown. It seemed like just yesterday she was a wee baby. They had all been waiting so long for her to grow up. After thirteen long years there was now, finally… hope. If this slip of a girl is half as adventurous and curious as her mother is…was. He batted his greenish eyelashes, trying to dislodge the stray tear that had nested in one of them.

  Suddenly a horrible shrieking tune broken by hiccups pierced his thoughts.

  “I am a man!..A sea-going… Hiccup!” The culprit wore the tattered remains of what could only have been a sailor suit at one time. He staggered along the walkway, stopping to smell one of his sobering armpits every few steps. After each whiff, his eyes grew round and he seemed to find the strength to propel his rubbery legs another step in a forward motion.

  Mertin’s face grimaced in irritation. He wished his hands were free to shoot a weight square in his retched mouth! “Lucky Dryback,” he grumbled, disappointedly.

  As the sailor’s hiccups grew steadily louder, Mertin knew he had no time to hang out. He couldn’t risk being seen, even by a man who would probably not remember it.

  He turned his attention back to Destiny and the lines on his old face softened. “Ahhh, take care, little lass, I hope I will be seein’ ya soon,” he whispered sadly. He tilted his head in the best bow he could manage.

  He quietly pulled out the package. Placing it securely on the sill, he closed the window over as far as he could without trapping his fingers. He hoped the annoying sound of the sailor wouldn’t disturb her. She would certainly need her rest!

  He raised his tail up and heaved off; diving backwards into the shallow water with the skill only a dolphin could match. A few tiny splashes dotted the surface where he entered. With a few great tail strokes he was gone leaving only fading bubbles in his wake.

  Destiny Mariner turned slightly in her bunk, hovering on the brink of wakefulness, and then slowly drifted back to her dreams of the sea. And when she woke a few hours later she didn’t even notice the mysterious package on her windowsill. She stretched a bit as she opened her eyes and let the cloudy fog of sleep lift away just like every morning. She lay there, lazily listening to the sounds of morning and snuggled in the soft folds of her down comforter.

  She could hear her dad clanking around in the tiny kitchen, making his usual mess and burning his breakfast as he did every day. She giggled out loud as a few seconds later when the horrible smell of burnt eggs mingled with fresh coffee drifted to her room. He would never learn.

  Stretching like a cat, she decided to get up and at least control the damage. She threw off the covers, climbed slowly out of her bunk and padded her way down the narrow, polished hall.

  She arrived in the kitchen to see the small frying pan billowing a cloud of smoke like a tiny volcano. The shriek of the fire alarm echoed across the quiet marina in a series of beeping shockwaves. She shook her head in exasperation as she saw her dad, madly waving a pillow and spatula around the smoke detector and dancing like some wild man in flannel pajamas, trying to quiet it. There would be no one left asleep in the entire marina.

  “Morning, Daddy. I see you made your special charred eggs, again,” she half coughed, half yelled over the alarm, smiling impishly. She leaned back in her chair and opened the portal window behind the dining table. “Be free, smoke,” she said dramatically, cocking one eyebrow.

  “I like them well done!” her father shouted, pointing the spatula at her. “Want some?” “Nice try Daddy, but I’ll stick with my usual,” she answered. Before he had a chance to plead, there was a sharp rap at the window. The curtain was replaced by the stern face of a tiny, gray woman wearing tight curlers that pulled at her face, making her look more stern then she really was.

  “Jacob Mariner! Are you cooking again?” she screeched accusingly, her keen eyes darting from the burnt pan on the counter to the guilty looking, shaggy blond man as if daring him to deny it. He dropped his eyes, looking a lot like a little boy in trouble, and answered quietly, “Yes, Mrs. Dilts. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  Destiny stifled the giggles that threatened to bubble up from her toes. Few people had this humbling effect on her dad. He was a great bear of a man, gentle natured, but with a no nonsense way and the strength to back it up. People around town called him Jacob the Viking. Destiny always thought it was a rather fitting name. All he needed was one of those silly hats with horns on each side.

  Mrs. Dilts’s angry look softened slightly. “Well, don’t let it happen again. Some of us actually like to sleep in. I didn’t retire from the university so I would be waked up every single morning by that blasted fire alarm!” Her eyes went to Destiny and her unhappy look faded into a warm smile.

  “Oh, good morning, sweetheart, I didn’t see you through all the smoke. Did your father wake you up, too?”

  Destiny put on her best puppy-dog look and batted her eyes innocently, enjoying her dad’s discomfort. Mrs. Dilts answered for her, “Of course he did! Poor dear.” Then looking back at Jacob, she sharply added, “Jacob, I suggest you limit your cooking to cold cereal.” Without waiting for a response she turned to leave, the sounds of her lighthearted laughter fading as she walked away, her fluffy green robe swaying with the motion.

  Destiny giggled as she plopped her elbows on the table, yawning. It was already set, with a bowl and can opener along with her usual breakfast of two cans of tuna fish and a can of minced clams. She opened each can and emptied them into her bowl and mixed it around, her stomach growling in delighted anticipation.

  Yum! This is delicious. She gobbled it up shamelessly, scraping the bottom of the bowl with her spoon for each tiny scrap. Her dad shook his head with a mixture of disgust and admiration. “I don’t know how you can do that. Every morning you eat that same horrible concoction.”

  “Every morning you eat the same yucky, burnt eggs,” she pointed out gleefully.

  “Well, I’m a marina owner and a boat mechanic,” he said. “I never claimed to be a cook.”

  “Don’t worry, Daddy, nobody will ever accuse you of being that!”

  “You are an awful BRAT!” he said, teasingly pointing his fork at her. You WILL behave while I
am on my business trip this week?” He looked at her sternly, as if contemplating all the trouble she might get into.

  “Yes, Daddy, I will be good,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  Hmmm…at least mostly.…

  She was finally a teenager, for heaven’s sake. She was sure he still saw her as a shy little girl, holding on to his leg like she did when they met strangers.

  “Well, I have asked Mrs. Dilts to keep an eye on you anyway. So… She is right next door if you need anything. She promised to be available anytime, day and night.”

  “Really Daddy?” she said, dramatically. He just had to ask her?

  “I love Mrs. Dilts…but she will make me study constantly, and it is summer!” she whined, “I promise to behave if you just don’t make me spend the whole week with her on her boat. Pleeease, Daddy?” she begged.

  He rubbed his scraggly whiskers a moment and replied tentatively: “Well, she was an English professor, and studying is good for you. But, she is right next door, so if you want to stay on the Seadancer, I guess that would be okay.”

  “Oh, thank you!” she yelled, leaping up and kissing his whiskery cheek before he had the chance to take it back. She adored Mrs. Dilts, but had no desire to spend the week writing essays or watching the news channel.

  The rest of the morning was quiet. Destiny helped her dad stuff clothes into his suitcase for his trip to Maine to look at new dock materials. He was hoping to add onto the marina and needed to do some shopping around. But, when it was actually time for him to go, he seemed to be stalling, acting like he forgot something, rummaging through his suitcase, scratching his head for no reason.

  “I have a funny feeling about leaving,” he said finally, as they walked along the dock to the parking lot. “Are you sure you don’t want to come along?”

  Destiny watched her footing as they walked. The tide was coming in and it made the wooden walkway sway gently under her feet. She had accidentally fallen in many times growing up on the docks.