Erin Hart - False Mermaid

Also by Erin Hart

Lake of Sorrows

Haunted Ground

ERIN HART

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products
of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2010 by Erin Hart

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First Scribner hardcover edition March 2010

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Manufactured in the United States of America

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Library of Congress Control Number: 2009037969

ISBN 978-1-4165-6376-1
ISBN 978-1-4165-6384-6 (ebook)

To my siblings
Julie, Amy, and Jere
and their mates
Colin, Panayiotis, and Sheri

traditional Irish proverb

An Mhaighdean Mhara

amhrn traidisinta Gaeilge

The Mermaid

traditional Irish song

What would read as akin to the fairy romances of ancient times in Erin, is now the topic on all lips in the neighborhood of Ardara and Glencolumbkille. It appears that a young woman named Mary Heaney, wife of a local fisherman, living with her husband and two children in a fishermans cottage in the townland of Port na Rn, disappeared on the evening of May the fourteenth, 1896, and has not since been heard of. Up to the present, notwithstanding the exertions of the police and numerous search parties, no account of her, live or dead, has been found.

One event did take place, which has produced all the sensationthe husband swore that the evening before his wifes disappearance he observed her speaking in a low voice to a wild creaturea sealoutside their cottage window.

There is a local superstition concerning seals who may change their skins at certain periods of their existence, sometimes coming ashore in human form. It is said amongst the local people that upon discovering the skin of such a creature, a selkie, while it is in its human form, the person so doing becomes the master of that person or soul, until the creature may regain its own skin again. Of course at the evening firesides such wild stories of ghosts and fairies are devoured with an avidity that only a mysterious occurrence of this kind can produce. Possibly the appearance of the woman in the flesh, by-and-bye, may rob the case of all romance.

The Ballyshannon Herald, 18 May, 1896

Death was close at hand, but the wounded creature leapt and twisted, desperate to escape. Seng Sotharith pulled his line taut and played the fish, sensing in the animals erratic movements its furious refusal to give in. He would do the same, he thoughthad done the same, when he was caught.

Sotharith sat on the crooked trunk of an enormous cottonwood that leaned out over the water and watched the river flow by. Sometimes as he sat here, suspended above the water, he whispered the words over and over again, intrigued by their strangeness on his tongue. Minnesota. Mississippi. He had been in America a long timefive years in California, and now nearly eight years with his cousins family in Saint Paul, but still the music of the language eluded him.

High above on the bluffs, the noises of the city droned, but here he could shut them out. Sometimes on foggy mornings, he looked across the water and felt himself back in Cambodia. He saw houses on stilts, heard the shouts of his older brothers as they played and splashed in the river. The pictures never lasted long, dissipating quickly with the mist. Now the sun was rising behind him, gilding the leaves on the opposite bank. Soon he would have to scale the steep bluff and get to his job at the restaurant. All afternoon and evening, deaf to the shouts and noise of the kitchen, he would wash dishes, wrapped in his thoughts and in memories that billowed through his head like the clouds of steam that rose from the sinks.