Merry Out Of The Sea - beginning

I remember it was a very grey day when Mr. Jessup found that girl.  In spite of the clouds and dampness, it was strangely warm too.  Now, whenever those meteorological conditions come together, I get chills since it brings me back to that day and all the things that came after.

I was watching Suzie sniff around the yard, looking for the best place to leave her next mark, when Tomlin Welsh came running down the street.  He was out of breath and clearly very excited to tell somebody, everybody, about something.  I came up to the gate and Mom came out of the house to ask him what was wrong.  Some of the neighbors came over too, having seen his wild run and his stop in front of our house.  It took him a few seconds to catch his breath and then somebody brought him a glass of water, which disappeared immediately down his throat.  Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and the words practically exploded from him: "Mr. Jessup saved a girl from drowning!  They're down on the beach now!  She's so tired so can't even talk!" 

Heads turned in the direction of the beach as one.  We all moved off like a herd of cattle, leaving everything we were doing behind us, although Mom and I made damn sure the gate was closed so Suzie wouldn't get out again.  The crowd tramped down the street with purpose, so intent on getting to the beach and seeing for ourselves just what was happening that we didn't even talk to each to each other about our thoughts or theories.  Another group had gotten there before us and was milling around the parking lot.  Tay Jessup was talking to the chief of police, gesticulating angrily, although we couldn't hear a whisper of what they were saying, down there on the sand.  I didn't see anyone who could be the almost-drowned girl, or anyone I didn't know - the benefit and curse of living in such a small town.  "You see the girl, Mom?" I asked.  "Must be in the ambulance," she answered, nodding towards the vehicle I had missed.  The doors were closed and the lights were flashing, but it was just sitting off at the end of the parking lot.

I wandered toward the other group to see if any of my classmates were there.  Although pretty much everybody knew each other in town, the adults were very closed-mouthed until the "kids" got full-time jobs.  I was just going to start my junior year in high school, so my summer jobs didn't count.  Other kids would share info freely, though.  Tom's sister Katherine was there, taking to Kate Owen.  They weren't good friends of mine, but we didn't have anything against each other.  They were the only ones my age.  I came up and said, "Hey gals, what do you know about this half-drowned kid?"  "She's no kid," answered Kate, "She's just a little older than us, like 20."  "I didn't see her face," said Katherine, hair and make-up perfect as usual, "her body looks mid-teens to me."  "You hardly saw her body and you just admitted to hardly saw her face at all!"  "That wet dress left nothing to the imagination."  "Oh please, it left plenty!  You're starting to sound like your aunt Mary!"  As Katherine rolled her eyes in studied irritation, Kate fixed her gaze on me, ready to spill details.  "Mr. Jessup was out kayaking and he said he saw something white floating in the water.  At first he thought it was a plastic bag and he thought he should fish it out, so he paddled over.  But then he saw it was a girl, face down in the waves.  He grabbed her, hauled her over the front of his kayak, and paddled back, shouting at whoever was on the beach to call an ambulance."  "So, who called?"  "Oh, who knows.  Does it really matter?  Nobody knows who she is or where she came from.  She looked like she was dead at first, but she got loaded into the ambulance with an oxygen mask, so I guess she wasn't.  I don't know how Katherine missed that."  "Just bad luck, I guess," sighed Katherine, "I was watching my brother run off like goon."  "Yeah, you can hardly keep your eyes off your own brother."  "Shut up, sometimes I just can't believe he's related to me."  "Why's Mr. Jessup all pissed," I wanted to know.  "He wanted to go in the ambulance with her and they said he can't 'cause he's not family."  "But if she doesn't have any family here, why not let him go?"  "I 'unno."  More people had shown up and were drifting aimlessly around the parking lot like clueless patrons at a modern art exhibition, and Mr. Jessup and Chief Southcote were walking to the chief's car together.  They both got in and drove off and the ambulance drove off after them.

Rumors flew around for a couple of days, but then people kind of forgot about it since there wasn't any information forthcoming.  That was a little strange, since people getting fished out of the water like that isn't exactly common where we are.  We're just lucky, I guess, very few incidents on our shore.  Mild currents or something.  Anyway, school started before we heard any news.  Of course it was Tom Welsh who acted as town crier again, but this time through the halls of the high school.  The high school was actually in the next town over, a consolidated school, so half the kids barely knew anything and Tom got to tell the whole story all over again, much to his enjoyment.  It turns out, the girl had recovered, somewhat, in the hospital, and nobody could find any information on her.  She wouldn't talk and didn't have any ID and her fingerprints weren't on file anywhere, and they never got any leads from the photographs they sent out asking for information.  Finally, they let Mr. Jessup take her home.  He had to carry her from his car since she hadn't shown any power or inclination to walk.  He put her up in his attic with a window that had a view to the beach, and people walking by said they could see her up there, pale as cheese, with her hair all knotty and stringy around her face.  She always had a blank expression, people said, but not really sad at all.  Mr. Jessup started buying lots of fish at the market since that's the only thing she would eat, he said.  She would only eat them raw or in soup, never baked or fried, Mr. Jessup said she just stared at fish prepared that way like she didn't know what it was.  The Shears next door helped him buy some clothes for herand they tried to talk to her, but she never made a sound.  People started calling her the Mermaid.

After a couple of months, the rumors and stories died down again.  Then Mr. Jessup finally got tired of having her hang around the house all the time, got hold of a wheelchair, and started taking her out for walks.  It was winter already, but fortunately for him, the street and sidewalks were diligently shoveled so he could push her easily.  She would sit wrapped up in blankets, staring at everything and never saying a word.  At least she looked interested.  It was much nicer to see than the cold, blank face she'd had at first.  Her eyes were a little scary to me; they hardly had any whites.  They were like Suzie's animal eyes.  Mom told me I shouldn't talk about people's appearance like that.  Mr. Jessup invited people for Christmas and I heard she hadn't combed her hair or let it be combed once since she was found, and she was just white and pasty as yogurt.  What I guess she like most was the carols; she kind of waved her head around with the music - like Suzie again, but Suzie howled too.  Mr. Jessup was calling her Merry.  It was Merry Christmas and kind of short for mermaid.

It was a little strange how fast the town got used to her.  We even said hello to her when we saw her being wheeled down the street by Mr. Jessup, just like we had known her all our lives and almost expected her to answer back one day.  She never did, though, she never even waved.

For some reason the town was shocked when rumors started buzzing that Mr. Jessup had applied for a marriage license.  Ina Keates, the town clerk, spread the word, not out of mean gossipy-ness, but because she didn't know how she could even issue a license when the girl didn't have any ID at all.  She asked for advice and people she asked asked other people because nobody was sure how to just assign ID to an adult, assuming she was one, who couldn't give any information about herself.  Finally they decided they could just assign a name, SSN and DOB to her, if no other information came from the FBI before summer.  Mr. Jessup wasn't too upset by the delay, I guess because she was living with him and had nobody else so he didn't really have to share her with anybody anyway.  The mayor thought we should have a contest to choose a name for her, but Mr. Jessup wanted to name her himself. "I'll be calling her, after all.  I'd like to use a name to my own liking."

So, the woman was named Merry Delmar ("It's Spanish for 'from the sea,'" explained Mr. Jessup) when no unfavorable reports on her came by July.  There was a small ceremony at the courthouse the week after her Social Security card came and Mr. Jessup wheeled his bride out the door with the toothiest smile the town had ever seen.  Merry looked very calm, like lake water on a perfectly still day, like completely white clouds reflected on the surface.  They took a honeymoon drive down the coast with old tuna cans clanging behind Mr. Jessup's old Toyota.

I started my last year of high school that fall.  I was looking forward to graduating and moving on to college, preferably many miles away.  It wasn't that I had things so bad in this little town, but something in me wanted to be far away for a while.  I took my studies very seriously, participated in the production of the student newspaper and in Drama Club.  I still didn't know quite what I was going to study, none of us did I think, but we were all looking forward to something new in our lives.  Something for us, I mean.  Merry was pretty much just for Mr. Jessup.

In the beginning of November we started to see him looking pale and thin.  When asked what was wrong, he would shake his head and say, "Oh, nothing, just that bug that's going around."  Mom ran into him at the pharmacy in back of the supermarket one day and that night at supper she told Dad, "I'm really starting to worry about Tay.  He looked just awful when I saw him this afternoon, like a cancer patient or something.  I swear he looks like he's aged 20 years."  Dad said, "Well, maybe he does have that super flu.  You lose a lot of liquids and it makes you look older."  "He wasn't getting flu medication, though, it was anti-vertigo.  He didn't look dehydrated either, he looked starved."  "Oh, like you're an expert on starvation," joked Dad, winking and swatting Mom's butt between the seat and the chair back.  "Agh, Steve, you know I hate it when you do that in front of the kids!" and she got up to put her dishes in the dishwasher.  "Oops, guess I'm in trouble now," Dad chortled and he picked up his dishes and trotted after her.

I hadn't seen Mr. Jessup for weeks myself, but some time after that, getting towards Christmas break, I saw him shuffling down the street to his house.  I saw him from the back, but recognized him because of his earflap hat.  As I came up behind him I called, "How you doing, Mr. Jessup?  And how's Merry, we haven't seen either of you for a while."  Actually, the part after "haven't" didn't make it out of my mouth because Mr. Jessup turned around.  He really did look older than he was; he was in his late 40's and his face could have been an 80-year-old's.  his skin was yellowy and deeply creased; his eyes were sunken and red, surrounded by bruised looking, papery skin; oddly, he didn't seem to have eyebrows anymore.

"Oh, Lori," he said, "Haven't seen you in a while.  Saw your mom a couple weeks ago.  Got my meds.  Not doing their job yet."  "How's Merry doing?  Do you guys need any help?"  "Oh, Merry, Merry." he whispered as he pivoted back around, "I hear her in my dreams.  My dreams are only voices now."  I was perplexed by his statement and didn't go after him to follow up.  When I got home I told Dad about it and he just shrugged, saying, "Jessup's been a weird old coot our whole lives.  The guy was even old when he was 10."  Later I heard Mom talking in the kitchen with Mrs. Patrick from next door.  "I think somebody ought to check on the girl," she was saying, "she can't go out herself, not in the snow.  She can't even call for help."  "Yes, Dory, I think you're right.  If you don't mind waiting until tomorrow, I can make up some soup to take over there."  "Good idea, Belle.  I was thinking of making a tuna casserole.  Maybe she'd eat a little of it too, get some variety in her diet.  But if you bring one of your nice cod stews, I won't need to worry so much."  I went upstairs thinking I;d make sure to go with them the next afternoon.

The door was unlocked, so after repeated, unanswered knocking, we went in with our provisions.  We found them in the bedroom.  Mr. Jessup was lying completely wrapped up in blankets and quilts, except for his head, which was sunk into the pillows.  Merry sat in her chair beside the bed, watching him.  Her face was smooth as marble and just as motionless.  Only her eyes flicked towards the door when we came in.  "Merry," said Mrs. Patrick gently, "Belle has some cod stew if you're hungry.  I brought some tuna casserole for Tay, and I wish you'd try a little of that too."  Merry's tangle-haired head moved smoothly to look Mrs. Patrick full in the face for a moment.  Then she carefully positioned her hands on the wheels and jerkily maneuvered out of the room and into the kitchen with Mrs. Patrick behind her.

"Tay, why don't you go to Dr. Leqeuex?" asked Mom, "You can't go on like this much longer.  What will Merry do if something happens to you?"  When she said Merry's name, Mr. Jessop's eyes fluttered and he started making kind of a whining sound.  It took me a couple of seconds to start picking out the words - "Merry's out of the sea.  Out of the sea.  All wrong.  Can't put it back.  Merry's out of the sea."