Chapter 4: Uncomfortable Revelations

Pete's Postal & Frames Shoppe

On a deep red piece of soft velvet cloth spread out on the glass counter, a smooth blue with black vein stone that Gems swore was "the Siren's Soul" was carefully laid out for scrutiny. Two men, Gems and Pete Ashton, standing on opposite sides of the display counter were bent over, looking at the remarkable piece with earnest eyes, their crowns nearly touching.

Pete wore a headband magnifier as he peered down at the magnificent, far-too-perfect stone. He nodded with interest. "Fascinating."

"It's the real deal, Pete, I swear!" Gems said. "I know if I can just get this darn thing to work, it'll bring out the real Charly. I just know it!" Gems said, feeling uneasy in Pete's shop because of all the smiling faces framed in various picture frames looking down at him. Those things always made him feel as if they were all laughing at him, just like he knew everyone on the island were always laughing at him ... and not always behind his back, either.

"Well, I don't know 'bout that, Gems. I do think this stone looks real strange. Never seen anything like it. I mean, it looks as perfect as if it were made by some giant clam, you know?"

"You mean, like a pearl?" Gems asked with big eyes.

"Yea," Pete said with a nod. "I don't see no seams so it ain't made in no factory."

Then he lifted the magnifier and flipped it back before he braced hands against the counter. He shook his head as he looked at the younger man's scruffy face. "It's real nice, Gems, but why did ya bring it here? Thinkin' of sellin?"

Gems looked as if he'd just been slapped in the face! "Thinkin' of sellin'?!" he cried, his voice skipping. "Heck no, Pete! No amount of money is gonna have me part with this!"

Pete shrugged. "So why'd you bring it in?"

Gems shrugged. "Wanted me a second opinion."

"Uh-huh. More like your hundredth opinion."

Gems frowned uneasily. "Whaddya talkin' about?"

"Oh come on, Gems! You know what I'm talkin' about! People been talkin'. They'd been sayin' that you've been haulin' this stone to just about every shop on the island. Mrs. Dazzle was talkin' about you bringin' the stone by the flower shop the other day. Really, Gems? A flower shop?"

"Yea, well, I just wanted to know what Mrs. Dazzle thought about it." He made a face. "She wasn't very obliging."

"She's a florist, not an appraiser. Maybe you should take it to Johnson's Jewelry Shop? He's a bona fide appraiser. He appraised Mrs. Dolen's mother's old wedding ring last year." Pete chuckled. "Who would'a thought that old piece of jewelry would be worth twenty thousand dollars? Anyways, Mr. Johnson is a real smart guy. Came from New York and did a bunch of appraisin' there so he's got a lot of experience. I'm sure he can tell you where this thing's been manufactured and maybe he can even tell you by whom."

Gems made a face. "Bill told me never to come down again. I don't wanna piss him off again cuz he can get real mean, ya know?"

Pete chuckled. "Yea. I know."

"'Sides, you got that eye-glass thing, too," Gems said as he eyed the stone. "So you don't see anything that says it's man-made?"

"Nope. But that don't mean it ain't, and just because I've got a magnifier don't mean I'm an expert, Gems. But if that thing's man-made that artist sure knows his craft cuz he knew how to hide any seams and filin'."

Gems shook his head. "Nah. I knows it ain't been made by no man."

"Well, maybe a woman?"

"No woman, neither," Gems said with confidence. "The only artist that's made this here thing is the sea siren herself."

Pete frowned with a doubtful look just when the bell over the door rang.

Both men looked up to find none other than the object of Gems' obsession walk in. She was dressed in a man's blue/black flannel shirt that was so oversized that she had to roll the cuffs back a couple of times just to see her hands. The damn thing hung straight down to mid-thigh and from there baggy denims continued down to bunch around solid rubber-soled boots.

"Hi, Pete!" Charly greeted.

"Hey there, Charly."

Gems pretended he wasn't even there as he heard Charly walk up to the counter. He stole a few side-glances her way as he carefully wrapped up the stone and then held it protectively against him. When he felt her looking at him, he went red in the face.

"Hey, Gems."

"Hi, Charly."

"Didn't see you at Mac's this mornin'," she said as she handed Pete a receipt. "That's not like you." She smiled as she leaned her head in his direction. "I almost missed ya."

Gems bobbed his head and gave a twitchy smile as Pete shook his head and took the receipt from Charly's hand. "I-I was busy," he said uncomfortably. "No time to go out and do nuthin'."

Charly smiled with unemotional eyes. "Okay."

"Your photos came out real nice, Charly. You captured the sunset off the northern black rocks perfectly. Betcha gonna get a nice sum for them," Pete said as he headed for a wooden slide-out cabinet and pulled open a drawer before he ran fingers over the files in the section marked with an "L–O".

"Excellent." Charly nodded while she stood calmly by the counter.

Gems stole another sidelong glance. "Have you heard anything from your Pa?"

She looked at him with unreadable turquoise eyes. "No."

"Shouldn't he be back by now? It's been a while."

"I guess he decided to take an extended vacation."

"You sure, Charly? Mister Meeren never takes vacations."

"There's a first time for everything."

"You don't think he's, maybe, lost at sea or something like that?"

She smiled as she looked from him to the deep red cloth he was clutching at his chest. She knew he was aware that she was staring at it because his long fingers wrapped tighter around it. "Is that that blue stone you got there, Gems?"

Gems sniffed and fidgeted a little. "Maybe. Maybe not." He was getting more and more uncomfortable the longer she looked at him with those pretty and strange eyes. "And if it is, it's mine, Charly. Found it fair and square."

She arched an eyebrow. "Wasn't gonna try and take it from you, Gems."

"Yea, cuz that would be theft and aggravated assault."

She arched a surprised eyebrow. "Aggravated assault? Don't know if you know it, Gems, but you're twice my size—"

"—But you knows, I knows you're ten times stronger than any man." He gave her a quick, distrustful look before he leaned out the other way as if she was already reaching for the stone. "You can't take it anyways, even if you wanted."

She frowned with a curious smile. "I wasn't planning to."

"Yea, cuz, once a person has the Siren Stone, the siren can't get it back unless he says she can. She can't even touch it without his permission." He eyed her suspiciously. "They also say the sea siren has to obey the one who has the stone."

"They?"

Pete frowned over his shoulder, his curious gaze going from Charly to Gems as he pulled out a big envelope. It contained photos that she'd brought in to develop the other day. "Do you know what he's talkin' about, Charly?"

"Not really," she said as she kept her gaze steady on the scruffier and younger man. "But I'm sure Gems is gonna tell us whether we want him to or not." She looked at him without a smile on her lips. "Like he always does."

"Yea," he nodded as he licked his lips. "I'm talkin' about people who know about these things and who write about sea sirens cuz they know all about them."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You've been reading old Captain Steven's log books again, haven't you?" She chuckled as she shook her head. "What did I tell you about those moldy old books? You really need to get rid of them, Gems—"

"—They say she can't refuse him anythin'. She's got to obey whatever the owner of her stone tells her to do because the stone is the Siren's soul, and the one who owns the stone—"

"—Owns the soul," she finished with a smile, seeing his surprised look. "That kinda went without sayin'," she confided before she winked.

Pete came to stand in front of her and handed her the large envelope. "Here ya go, Charly."

"Thanks, Pete," she said with a kind smile. "Oh, and can you put it on my tab? I'm kinda short this month on account the Ferry's a week late with mail and my publisher's check for the other photographs hasn't come in from the mainland."

"So you're a little short on cash?" Pete said with a twinkle in his eye.

Her smile faded as she cocked her head with a curious look. "Yea."

"Well, it's your lucky day."

"Is it now?"

"Yea," Pete nodded with a big smile. "I've got good news for you, Charly. Real good news."

"Good. I can use some."

"Yep." Pete nodded. "You're gonna like this. I finally sold that old coin."

She frowned, confused. "Coin?"

"Your pa's coin, the one he brought in a few years back and what's been lying here collectin' dust. Got a real good price for it, too."

"Wow. Really?" Her eyes lit up.

"Yep." Pete nodded again. "Sold it to that handsome mainlander the other day. Paid twice as much for it than your pa'd been askin' for it." He winked as he leaned her way. "Well, I actually doubled the price and told him it was firm." He winked again. "He must've seen I was serious because he didn't flinch and even paid cash," he said before he bent and pulled open a drawer under the counter.

"Oh."

"Yea," Pete said as he pulled out a white envelope, not catching the brief drop of her smile. "And I took my full commission off of it since, well, you can afford it," he added as he set the thick envelope on the glass counter surface.

Her eyes dropped as she looked at the envelope. "Thanks, Pete," she said with a friendly smile. "But I was thinking," she lifted her eyes and smiled, "can you hold on to that money 'til Pa returns? It's his, after all, and I don't feel comfortable taking it on his behalf, know what I mean?"

He looked taken aback as his smile faded and a sympathetic gleam appeared in his eyes. "Yea, sure, Charly. I can do that," he said with a nod and returned the envelope to its drawer. "I'll just put the photos on your tab then."

"Thanks, Pete," she said gratefully. Then she took her photographs and turned and left, saying her good-bye as she exited the shop.

She closed the shop door and stepped off the stone step. She suddenly had a sad look on her face, and she paused for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut. Then she opened them and they shimmered suspiciously as she proceeded to walk along the shops.

Tears burned in her eyes. She swallowed big, hoping to push them and her unstable emotions back. When she felt a single teardrop trickle down her cheek, she knew she needed some water posthaste.

She stopped by a public water fountain and had a refreshing drink. It helped to water down her suddenly thick saliva caused by her tears—a physical flaw in her genetics that could damage her through rapid dehydration if she didn't quickly replenish herself. It was a curse to have this physical ailment—among other, equally detrimental ailments.

But she missed her father enormously. She worried deeply about him. Those tears have been threatening to fall for years now but she'd always been able to hold them at bay ... until now. It still broke her inside that he'd taken her children out to sea without telling her or asking her permission. When she'd awakened that fateful morning and found that her father had taken her children, she thought it was into town. When he didn't return for lunch, she got worried. Knowing that she couldn't just go to the townsfolk and ask them if they'd seen her father and her children, she couldn't do anything but wait ... and wait ... and wait.

She hadn't heard from him again.

She paused with drinking, watching the arch of fresh water for a few moments. Then she closed her eyes and let out a trembling sigh. "Why?" she whispered. "Why did you have to do it?" She felt tears rise again and quickly took a few last gulps of water until she felt a dull sense of equilibrium take hold of her again. Then she released the button and straightened, feeling in control of her emotions again, and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Then she paused.

Someone had come to stand by her and was now leaning a shoulder against the stone building. Her wet eyes moved up to look at an all too familiar face before her gaze dropped to watch as he let a familiar coin tumble across his knuckles. Her father's coin. Then she looked up at him again and dropped her arm.

She didn't say anything but side-stepped him to pass.

"How did you do it?"

She stopped in her tracks, standing in profile to him. Then she looked at him with a quizzical frown. "Do what?"

"That neat trick yesterday."

Her gaze dropped to watch the coin flash in the sun as it rolled across his tanned knuckles. "Neat trick?"

"Tossing that heavy bag of trash on my boat without being seen?"

She popped eyebrows. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

With a light ringing sound, he flipped the coin in the air and her gaze followed its ascent before it dropped back into the palm of his hand. She watched as he slipped the coin in the pocket of his cream linen slacks before she raised her gaze and found him watching her with an earnest look.

"Okay. So can you tell me why you're so sad?"

That question took her aback and her long eyelashes flickered before she quickly averted her face. "You're mistaken. I'm not sad—"

"—A blind man can see you've shed tears."

She was silent for a few moments. "You're mistaken. I had somethin' in my eye."

"You'd been crying."

She swallowed hard before she shook her head. "No. I don't cry, Mr. Masterson," she said before she moved to quickly walk away.

"How did you know who I was?"

She paused. Then she raised her head and looked at him with the biggest, most wounded eyes he's ever seen in his life. Those eyes gripped him and he found himself completely captivated by her, even to the point that he could actually feel her sadness inside his own heart.

"This is a small island, Mr. Masterson. People talk—"

"—Have we met before?"

"Yea. At the lighthouse and at Mac's diner."

"I mean before that ... long before that."

She felt her eyelashes flicker before she shook her head, but she didn't look convincing. "I-I don't think so."

He walked to her and was surprised that she didn't step away or run off. She merely followed him with those captivating eyes. "I believe we have," he said before his gaze left her eyes and roamed along her hair. Then he reached out a hand to take a swirling raven lock, but he paused when she quickly stepped out of reach, and he lowered his hand. "Ah, yes. I remember. You don't like to be touched."

Her eyelashes flickered. Then she shook her head. "No. I don't."

"By anyone? Or just me?"