Saturday, March 24, 2012

Friday (Saturday?) Fiction for March 23, 2012

I'm running late this week, as I completely spaced on being the host. Thursday, when I usually handle the Friday Fiction duties on my turn, started with the alarm going off at 4:30 for an early offset shift at work. This was to accommodate an appointment at the hearing clinic to pick up my hearing aids, and then we had the general meeting for the Scuba Club that night. At any rate, I will be back a little bit later to actually post something to read, but for now, here is the Linky tool for the other participants. My apologies for the tardiness!

Mermaid Weekend
Part 3

Teresa tucked her wet hair up under a towel, and, before sitting, dropped the robe from her shoulders to help protect the chair from the still dripping bathing suit. Trevor stood just inside the door, still wearing an expression of disbelief. “If someone comes in that door, they’re going to put the doorknob right into your back,” Teresa said. “Why don’t you sit down on the couch, or one of the chairs at the table?”

He wandered absently to the couch, and flopped into it. “You’ve been to the Island?” When she nodded in response, he added, “I can’t believe you never told me.”

“Tell you? I might as well just post it on every single one of my friends’ walls on Facenet, and maybe buy some advertising time on the television. You’re almost as good at keeping secrets as the National Tattler gossip magazine.”

“Don’t know why you wanted to keep it a secret.”

“Because not everyone really finds being a part of the Pod is something they can live with for a long time,” Marianne said, crawling in from a side room. “Sometimes, it’s easier to decide what you want to do, when the world isn’t watching.”

Trevor stared, and stammered some gibberish.

“Sorry, Trev,” Teresa said. “I asked Marianne and Gretchen to keep the bathing suit tops on, since Mom commented that you have an obsession with breasts lately.”

“I do not!”

“Should I remind you of all the files Dad deleted from your computer, before he and Mom put all kinds of controls on your access?”

Marianne laughed. “Gretchen is going to have fun with this one, isn’t she?”

“Not in front of Mom, please,” Teresa said. “I’m not sure my parents are too happy with this as it is, and if she gets the full brunt of Gretchen’s humor, she may never talk to me again.”

“Now, I’m hurt!’ Gretchen said, poking her head around the corner from another room. “I have an excellent sense of humor!”

“You have a bawdy sense of humor,” Teresa said. “I’ve never met anyone that had such an easy time making a G-rated Disney movie sound like a dirty movie.”

Gretchen crawled into the room. “Oh, you brought me a new toy?” She pushed up with her arms on the couch next to Trevor, and leaned close. “He’s kind of cute. I promise not to break him too quickly.”

“He’s only fifteen,” Teresa offered, in a teasing sing-song.

“Oh, too bad,” Gretchen said, bringing her face close to Trevor’s ear. It was difficult to tell if he was enjoying the attention, or was terrified. “I could have just eaten… you… up.”

“I’m… a very mature fifteen,” Trevor blurted.

“Doesn’t matter,” Marianne said. “Pod rules, you know. Eva and Marta would not take any excuse.”

“But, I’m not a member of the Pod,” he objected.

“Ah, but I am,” Gretchen said. “And you are so delightfully gullible.”

All three girls shared a laugh, before Teresa asked, “So, where’s Timothy?”

“I think he was planning on having a chat with your father,” Marianne said.

“Oh, that should be interesting,” Gretchen said. “Hopefully, he isn’t like Emilio. I mean, if Suzanne were here, that wouldn’t be a problem, but I’m not sure Timothy is quite in Suzanne’s league.”

“No one is in Suzanne’s league,” Marianne said. “I don’t think even Eva would have handled Emilio quite that way.”

“What?” Trevor asked. “Who’s Emilio, and what did Suzanne do to him?”

“Let’s just say that, if you ever want to see just how close you can come to drowning without actually dying, just make Suzanne angry,” Gretchen said. “Which, incidentally, you might do, if she catches you staring at her breasts.”


Gretchen turned pleading eyes on Marianne. “Please, can I play with him? He is sooo gullible.”

Both Marianne and Teresa responded in unison. “No.”

to be continued...

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Friday Fiction for March 9, 2012

Welcome to Friday Fiction! I'm hosting this week, which gave me that extra kick to actually get some more written on the short-story I started last month. Things have been busy, and I haven't had much chance to write. I'm going to make a point of finishing this story in time for next week's Friday Fiction. Meanwhile, please join in and add your link to the Linky tool below.

Mermaid Weekend

Part 2

Timothy waited in the dressing room, still amused by having a “dressing room” assigned to him, when the most dressing he’d ever done was slipping on a t-shirt. The door opened, and one of the hotel maintenance workers showed Teresa’s father into the room.

“Where’s my daughter?” he asked, without preamble.

How would Eva handle this? “I don’t know how you do things in your world, sir, but I suggest if you ever come to the Island and meet the Pod, you don’t forget your basic manners. Neither Marta nor Eva will tolerate it, even from a guest. I’m Timothy Billings, and I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Basic manners?” he said. “Do you consider it good manners to pop this kind of surprise on us?”

“Would you rather the surprise of learning after the fact that she had married into the Pod?”

“Is that what this meeting is about? Are you going to ask my permission to propose to her?”

Timothy resisted the urge to laugh. “Odd custom. Perhaps a bit better than an arranged marriage, but still rather archaic, don’t you think?”

“You might not think so, when you have a daughter.”

“I’ve seen firsthand that strange difference in how daughters are treated over sons. Perhaps it would help you to understand that dolphin pods are matriarchal, and with the way Dr. Marcel scheduled all of us, the eldest members of the Pod are all women. We don’t see being female as weak and in need of protection.”

“It’s not being protective. It’s a traditional courtesy. She is, after all, my daughter.”

“She’s also an adult, and we love each other.”

“Yes, Teresa is an adult, and as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, somewhat headstrong. She doesn’t get that from any stranger. As for you ‘love each other,’ I’ve watched a parade of boyfriends go through her life, since she was a teen-ager, and every one of them would have said the same thing. Many of them did.”

“And your point is…?”

“I’m not impressed with declarations of love. Feelings are fleeting, and, to be honest, she could do better.”

“I’d wager her mother could have done better, too.”

For a moment, the man looked angry, before a reluctant smile appeared. “Yeah, she could have, and I still don’t know why she didn’t. You’re not easily intimidated, are you?” He chuckled. “I always prided myself on being able to scare her boyfriends.”

“I spent most of my childhood afraid that if we were found, we’d be killed. We scrounged what we could from a wild ocean, and never knew when something else might be out there scrounging for us. The worst I have to fear from you, is that you don’t like me.”

He pulled a chair over, and settled into it. “Well, if I’m not going to scare you away, then you might as well just call me Jim. So, how did you and Teresa meet, anyway?”

“Funny story, that,” Timothy said, and thought about how best to start.

to be continued...