of tattered bloody clothes.
He’s struggling with the weight of a boy, and when he almost
trips, a hand breaks loose from the pile of clothes and dangles, cold
and blue.
The man’s leg goes weak, but he balances on one knee. I reach
forward to help, but I’m not fast enough, and the boy hits the ground
with a wet thump. The corners of his lips are white and cracked. His
eyes are open, staring at the sky. The smell of copper and salt hit me
like a sucker punch. Down where the boy’s leg used to be is a mess of
sand and bone and loose skin.
The man leans down and uses two fingers to shut those dead, gaping
eyes.
“What happened?”
When he speaks, his voice is a low growl. “I was just sitting.
Reading. Beats me if I’ll find my book in that mess now. Saw the top
of a shark. But it was deformed.” He hovers, his palm over his head to
signal where the dorsal fin might be. “Then the boy-” He breaks off
and stares back down at the dead boy. I realize my hands are shaking
at my sides.
A set of hands comes down on my shoulder. It’s Marty. He leans
close to my face and whispers, “Come on, man. We don’t want to be here
when five-o shows up.” My body is numb as we weave along the Coney
Island boardwalk, away from the mangled body on the ground.
We sit in a straight line, our feet dangling over the edge of the
pier. This is where Coney Island turns into Brighton Beach.
“That was awful,” Layla says, her voice catching in her throat.
“The merrows.” Kurt says what I’ve been thinking but don’t want to
admit to.
I remember when Layla would curl up in bed because she didn’t want
to touch the edges, as if whatever was in the dark would reach up and
snatch her. This is the same, except now we’re all scared and pull our
feet away from the water and set them firmly on the ground.
“Is this all because of the nasty sea witch who’s out to get you?”
Marty has a way of making even the worst things sound harmless.
“Yeah, that one. Apparently she might have an army of mutant
merpeople called merrows.”
I wait for a smart comeback that doesn’t come. Marty tosses the
bottle cap into the water. It skips once, twice, sinks. “Aw, sh iii
t.”
“What?” Layla gets ready to stand and run.
“I forgot the hot wings.”
She sucks her teeth and smacks him for once.
“What? I paid for them.”
“I’m falling behind,” I say. “The other guys are halfway down the
Pacific, and I’m still on land, watching people die around me and not
doing anything about it.” I punch the wood and regret it. The scabs
over my knuckles crack and bleed. I look at Marty. “That’s where you
come in.”
“Me?” Marty tilts his cap from side to side.
“You know everyone.”
“Not every-”
“What do you know of a psychic who teaches at my school? Ms.
Pippen.”
“Wait, wait.” Marty dusts sand off his black jeans. “Olivia
Pippen?”
I stand to face him. “So you know her?”
Marty hesitates like he shouldn’t have said anything at all. But
he can’t take it back.
I repeat, “Dude, do you know where she lives?”
He holds his hands up in the air as if he can conjure up a force
field between us. A few more steps back and he’ll fall off the pier.
“Guys, I’m neutral. I can’t-” He looks to Kurt. “You know I can’t put
anyone in danger that is part of the alliance. Besides, we used to
have a thing.”
“She’s my teacher. I’m not going to hurt her. I’m just going to
ask her if she knows of any oracles and where their locations might
be.”
Marty relaxes but doesn’t look like he’s going to cooperate.
“Hold up. You guys had a thing?” I can’t help it; I sound super
impressed.
He shrugs and smiles at the clouds. “Man, she’s an incredible
woman. But the seeing thing freaked me out. I mean, I’m not a dog or
anything. I wasn’t afraid she’d see me doing something I wasn’t
supposed to do. But check this: I have a lot of friends in dangerous
jobs. Every time I’d introduce her at a party somewhere, she’d run out
crying because she’d see them die . It puts strain on a relationship.”
I give him a well-deserved hand slap and hook. “You’re kind of the
Man.”
“Hello?” Layla knocks at the air. “Murder, mermaids, mayhem? We
can talk about Marty’s sexcapades later.”
Kurt raises his hand. “I vote Not on that last bit. But any
information would be helpful. If not,” he says to Marty, “I hope
you’re a good swimmer.”
I wasn’t about to make the threat, but Kurt’s voice is steady,
borderline deadly. I’m even afraid of him a little bit. Marty twiddles
his thumbs nervously, taking one last look at the rippling water
below. Sure, it’s not exactly making him walk the plank, but after
what we’ve just seen, the water doesn’t look very appetizing.
He deflates and says, “I’m not going to tell you where she lives.
But I will tell you where she’s going to be tonight.” He rubs his
hands. I still don’t know what he is, but I hold up my hands to shield
myself in case he ends up being some kind of wizard who shoots
fireballs when he rubs his hands together. If things like that exist.
Which they probably don’t.
Probably.
Hopefully.
“If it’s another overnight trip, my dad’s going to shit bricks.”
“Actually, it’s a club.” He winks at her.
A club doesn’t seem so bad. “Where is it?”
Marty flicks the beak of his cap. Now that he knows we’re not
going to torture him for an answer, he’s all chummy again. “Let’s just
say, it’s right in the middle of everything.”
The middle of everything is at Bowery and Twelfth Street.
Between Arcade Island and a long stretch of graffiti-covered wall
is a door I’ve never noticed before. There’s a black and red star over
the metal door, which looks like it’s been hit with a hammer too many
times.
“What is it?”
“Like I said, a special club, lounge, bar. Whatever you kids are
calling them these days. We call it Betwixt. Ground rules: try not to
look people directly in the eyes, bump into anyone, spill anyone’s
drink, or make out with a girl who is someone else’s date, Tristan .”
Layla elbows me a little too hard on the side.
“So it’s just like being in the school cafeteria,” I say, and
reach for the handle. Only there isn’t a handle to reach.
“After me.” Marty bangs his fist on the metal once.
Nothing happens.
“Nothing-”
Marty puts his finger to his lips. “Shh.” He makes like he’s going
to reach for a handle that isn’t there. And then his hand goes right
through, followed by the rest of him.
“Ohm-” Layla starts and finishes with a shriek as Marty’s head
pops right back through. “Someone has to hold Layla’s hand because,
well, it’s not her fault she’s all human.”
Layla scowls at him. I reach for her hand, but she grabs Kurt’s
instead. He’s standing closer to her, I guess.
Marty looks to me. “Knock once, wait for the knock back. A
headless monkey could do it.” He disappears.
“Here goes everything.” I knock. The wait seems even longer than
when Marty did it. Or maybe it’s because I’m afraid it’s not going to
work for me. What if half of me gets stuck because I’m half human? And
if so, which parts-
Then I hear it. The knock back. Only I can’t seem to make myself
move. I feel someone’s hands push me forward at the same time I take a
step in. For a moment, I feel weightless and cold. Two heartbeats
later, the warmth rushes back. I stumble and trip down the steps. At
least I land on my back and not my face.