Marianne marveled at the contraption in James’s hand, a brass triangle with what appeared to be a miniature telescope and magnifying glasses connected to it. “Is that a Steampunk protractor?” she asked.
“It’s my great-grandfather’s sextant. It measures the stars for navigation” James replied excitedly as he manipulated each of the sextant’s moving parts.
“We’re just going to the end of the cove” Marianne laughed
“You don’t know where you going, not really.” James argued. Marianne had to agree, everything about the journey they were about to embark on was a mystery.
She was grateful to have James with her as she entered her living room. Although James was practically family, her Aunt and grandmother would at least attempt a semblance of normalcy around him. They quickly walked past the room where Nellie’s body resided. Her father was in there, speaking softly to her. Marianne was not interested in talking to him or her aunt, not while they were keeping secrets from her.
Nellie and Marrianne’s rooms were across the hall from each other. Nellie’s room faced the water and Marianne’s faced the town. The small room Nellie was staying in now was their only guest room which meant that her aunt Mildred was staying in her sister’s room. Marianne was not happy about that. She scowled as she entered. Nellie was notoriously disorganized. Her clothes and make-up were often strewn about. Mildred had tidied the room in such a way it would be unrecognizable to her sister.
When the apartment was first built, property was taxed on how many bedrooms each one had, however, a room was only considered a bedroom if it contained a closet, so all but 1 of the upstairs rooms were “dens.” This meant that for clothing storage, the family would use large shelving fixtures that were once
a part of the general store.
Against the far wall stood a large oak armoire that once sold tobacco and a small display hutch where she kept her toiletries, usually strewn about nonsensically. Mildred had purchased a plastic organizer for it all. “A place for everything and everything in its place.” Was her go-to saying. Above the hutch was an
old map of the cove, yellowed by years of exposure to tobacco smoke. Against the window was an old sewing table that Nellie used as a desk. This too, was now organized with pencil holders and mouse caddies.
Nellie’s four-post canopy bed was the only piece of furniture that was not a reclaimed store display. The bed, along with the yellow and white floral display was a wedding present that had once belonged to her parents. Her father gifted it to her for her 13th birthday.
Atop the hutch, Mildred’s organizing had made visible a framed photo of a smiling raven-haired toddler in pink tulle dress sitting atop the lap a beautiful woman with glimmering green eyes, fiery, wavy red hair cascading down her shoulders, shining brightly off her forest green dress, showing a hint of a baby bump as she knelt down amongst a sea of daffodils to hold the young child.
Marianne never knew her mother. She passed away on her first birthday, during the midsummer festival. Her father didn’t like to talk about her so Marianne’s only knowledge of her mother was through Nellie’s stories. She would talk about how their mother would sneak them out in the middle of the night and take them to the woods behind town to “dance with the fairies.” It was then where Nellie
discovered her love of dance, and after her mother’s passing, she threw her soul into the world of dance, as a way to stay connected to her mother.
Marianne walked to the hutch and looked at the picture, it was remarkable how much she looked like a green-eyed scarlet-haired version of Nellie. They had the same radiant skin and high cheekbones, and wide smiles.
“Remarkable” said James. Marianne nodded in agreement until she realized he wasn’t looking at the photograph, but instead at the on the wall above. Marianne looked quizzical. James extended his index finger to a dotted outline on the map, which indicated the exact place where the mysterious island now stood.
James rubbed the spot with his index finger, then turned it towards Nellie, revealing a black smudge.
“It’s drawn in ink” he said. He climbed on top of the hutch and used the magnifier from his sextant to
get a closer look. “There’s something written here” he said and started to read off letters “C.. U… M?.. A.. R… T… A… C…H…
“Cumartach?” said Marianne. “Is that the name of the island?
“Maybe…” replied James.
“What does it mean?”
“Islands around here are usually named after explorers or ingidinous tribes that the explorers killed off.
I’ve never heard of an explorer or tribe named Cumartach. We’ll have to look it up.”
Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
“Annie, James!” came Mildred’s voice from across the all. “Please come downstairs. Lee will be here soon.”
Marianne and James stood frozen. Although not specifically forbidden, Marianne knew there would be hell to pay if Mildred found them snooping in her room. They held their breath until they heard footsteps retreating down the hallway and back downstairs.
“Honestly mother, I don’t think it’s right for Annie to be up there with a boy with the door closed.” She said as she returned downstairs.
“It’s just James” her mother chuckled.
“Yes, I know, but friends can become lovers in an instant.”
“Mildred, she’s just a kid”
“What would the neighbors think?”
“Which ones?” her mother inquired. “Mr. Henderson who’s living in sin with a woman half his age, the Joneses who’ve been divorced three times each, or the ‘old witch’ as you call her who’s leasing the apartment next door for the summer?”
Mildred scowled as the doorbell rang.
“Judge not lest ye be judged” her mother replied as she went to answer the door.
Lee held the large cast-iron pot like a shield as he stood on the doorway, anxiously. He was slightly relieved to see Nellie’s grandmother at the door. Their relationship had always been cordial, but professional, and she maintained that courteous demeanor as she greeted him.
“Welcome Lee!” she said, as she opened the door widely to let him in. Lee remained on the porch, frozen.
“What do we have here?” she asked, indicating the large pot in Lee’s hand.
“My mother made it. She thought you would like some comfort food” he replied uncomfortably, as he handed over the pot, his arms extended and eyes lowered to the floor, like a peace offering.
“Do come in” the grandmother insisted.
Absent his shield, Lee squeezed his palms together as he followed the grandmother towards the kitchen.
“I’ll heat this up.” She said and turned to indicate the adjacent room. “She’s in there” she said.
Lee’s eyes widened and his heart began to palpitate as he looked at the open doorway. He took several deep breaths and clenched his fists by his side and walked towards the room. When he reached the doorway he stopped dead in his tracks.
Nellie’s father was seated beside her, his large hands enveloped around hers, making her petite, slender frame seem even more fragile and delicate. He was starting at her intently and speaking a strange dialect Lee had never heard before. He jumped up with a start when he noticed Lee.
As the 6’5” bohemouth of a man, stood, his face was stoic but it could not mask the pain behind his deep blue eyes.
“Come on in” he said to Lee, indicating the chair he had just vacated. Lee ventured nervously and sat down next to the comatose body of the girl whom he’s once thought to be the most radiant, lively creature to ever walk the earth. She was still beautiful, despite all the tubes attached to her face.
“The doctors say talking to her helps, that she can still hear you.”
Lee awkwardly touched Nellie’s cold, clammy hand, as a lump began to grow in his throat.
“I miss you” he whispered, her face was immobile, but peaceful. It was then he noticed the gold chain around her neck.
Last summer at the festival he and Nellie made their way through the tents that adorned First Street, admiring the wares of the local artisans. One booth in particular had Nellie captivated. A local crabber
had created “reclaimed” art out of treasures he’d uncovered in his pots, including seaglass, silverware, glass fishing floats, and old metal boat parts. The item that had drawn Nellie’s attention was a large vintage brass key hanging on a gold chain.
“There’s something so romantic about old keys” she smiled at Lee. “The secrets they hold, those they have welcomed with access to secrets and treasures, those with ill intent they have kept out…” she gazed at Lee dreamily.
“It shall be yours” said Lee as he reached into his pockets for cash.
“How much?” he asked the merchant in the booth.’
“For the Queen of Fairies, no charge” replied the Merchant.
“Thank you so much” said Lee as Nellie laughed. She was still in dressed in her costume from the earlier performance of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” where she had played Titania, the Fairie Queen. The town performed the play every year to mark the start of the Midsummer festival. Last year was Nellie’s
first time playing a lead role, and she looked the part perfectly with flowers in her hair and bells around her ankles that tinkled lightly with every step.
“I wonder what it opens?” she said as she pulled her long black locks forward, allowing Lee to fasten the chain around her neck.
“I know exactly what it opens” he replied coyly.
“Oh really?” replied Nellie
“Of course” he nodded and turned towards the street. Nellie grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
“Are you going to tell me?” Nellie laughed “Or are you keeping it shrouded in mystery?”
Lee took Nellie in his arms, and gently brushed the hair from her face as he gazed into her inquiring teal eyes.
“It’s the key to my heart” he smiled flirtatiously. Nellie laughed and kissed him.
Back in the room, Lee held back tears as he touched the key around her neck. “You will always have my heart” he whispered to her frozen body.
“You should have that” said the voice behind her. Lee turned around stunned as he faced Nellie’s father.
“I couldn’t possibly” he replied.
“Please.” Her father insisted. “She would want you to have it, to keep a part of her with you. You can return it when she wakes up.” He said.
“Thank you” said Lee as he removed the chain from Nellie’s neck and placed it around his own. “I will keep it with me, always” he said.
“I know.” Her father nodded. “That’s why you should have it.”
The intoxicating smell of garlic, fermented bean curd, and chicken wafted through the air and filled the apartment. Marianne smiled at the smell. The last time they had Congee was over the winter holiday when Lee’s family invited the Gallagher’s over for dinner.
Lee’s parents owned a restaurant in town famous for their crab cakes, yet his mother’s best cooking, in Marianne’s opinion, was Dakjuk, the Korean chicken and rice porridge she would make on dreary winter days.
Unlike much of her other Korean cooking, which was spicier than Marianne could handle, this porridge was soft and creamy, the food equivalent of a long hug from an old friend.
Marianne bounded downstairs at the smell, forgetting for a moment the quest they had planned for after dinner. James, on the other hand was still busy researching the meaning of the words scribbled on the map. After a few failed search results, he believed he found his answer…