Constellations of Scars by Melissa Eskue Ousley

Author:Melissa Eskue Ousley [Ousley, Melissa Eskue]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Melissa Ousley

22

I left Gabriel with the intention of taking my painting home, but as I headed toward the museum doors, I saw Peter and Vincent standing in front of the aquatic exhibit. Peter turned at my approach and waved me over with a grin. “Ever seen a mermaid?”

I smiled. “Nope. Never.”

“You’re about to.” He pointed to the tank and I heard a splash.

I stared through the viewing window, catching a flicker of movement as something emerged from behind the oyster wall. An otherworldly being came into view—long, blond hair streaming behind her, tail undulating as she swam. She dove down, toward the bottom of the tank, disappearing behind a curtain of kelp, and then appeared closer to the window, waving at us. Closer up, I could see her face was narrow with high cheekbones, almost elfin, which made her look even less human and more like a creature from the deep. Her blond hair had streaks of green and blue, which matched the iridescent scales on her tail. She wore a bikini top encrusted with shells and pearls. She flicked her tail and glided over to the oyster wall.

Vincent smiled at me. “Well? Pick one.”

I stared at the numbered shelves. “Number 17, please.”

Vincent picked up the slate next to the window and wrote down my number. The mermaid nodded and selected the correct oyster. Then she swam back to the window and placed the oyster in a net, which Vincent pulled over the side. He retrieved the oyster and opened it. Inside, one of my pearls sat nestled on a bed of pink latex. “Lucky guess,” Vincent said, and I shot him a grin.

“Oh, I’ve got more where that came from. Let someone else keep it,” I said.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Vincent asked, closing up the hinged shell. “And she really can move in the water.”

“Oh, she’s beautiful all right,” Peter said, “but you didn’t tell me she had tattoos.”

Startled by his tone, I jerked my head to look at him. He was visibly angry, his hands clenched at his sides.

Vincent waved him off as he put the oyster back in the net so the mermaid could return it to the shelf. “A minor detail. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal, Dad,” Peter said. “I keep telling you—the magic is in the details.” He gestured at the other displays in the room. “That’s what makes all this work. Details make or break the illusion.” He stormed over to the tank, jerking his thumb at the woman swimming inside. I followed his gaze—the mermaid had a tattoo of a hibiscus just below her collarbone, a sleeve of similar flowers on her left forearm, and a series of stars trailing down her right side to her navel. “You think a real mermaid strolls on shore and frequents a tattoo parlor?”

Vincent looked unsure. “Well, no, but…”

“We’ve got two days before we open, and I don’t have time to find another mermaid,” Peter said. He groaned, venting his frustration. “You said you’d handled this, Dad.

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