Chapter Fifteen
“Be still now. Listen to my words: We had our treasure in sight, though just out of reach. We began to search for less honorable assistance, those who cared more for money than myth. These, of course, were not difficult to locate, and we soon accumulated a small crew of miscreants who, with a little gold and a flash of skin, were willing to do most anything. You know the type” she stated with a look.
Vashon only listened.
“The Kajiya, the blacksmiths of the village fashioned large iron cages that the fisherman kept in deep pools. In these, they kept large fish, crab, lobster alive indefinitely until ready to harvest.
Oh, the industry of man! Will I ever get enough?
A plan began to form in my mind, for if we could but catch a mating pair of Ningyo, we might put them in a cage and then sail off, cage in tow, to some distant shore where we might enjoy our scheme with some measure of anonymity.”
Issaquah paused, seeing on his face that Vashon had questions, and wanting him to catch up, allowed him this measure.
“Yes?” she said, “What is it?”
“At this point, you still had not seen one, had not eaten the flesh, and yet you were certain they existed, and that your (until recently) old virgin dude, was being honest with you?”
“Of his sincerity, I had no question, in much the same way I know the pain in your heart, my love. But as to the first time I ate the flesh of the Ningyo, it happened in the most abstract and dramatic fashion, much as our first turn, if you remember.”
“You say first as if there might be another”
“Your tongue quivers at the thought.”
“You flatter yourself, woman.”
“Constantly,” Issaquah grinned wide, “However, I am not done, so sit still, my Naked Bull,” she commanded.
“Now, where was I?” placing a thoughtful finger to chin “Oh, yes. I observed the villagers, day and night, for although this body must sleep, my eternal self never does. I began to follow one young couple with no children as they would, near every night, and after toiling all day, leave the village and walk to the sea while the others slept. I am of course a natural voyeur and had high hopes of a peep show of which I am a great fan. Yet, night after night, they would shed their clothes and slip into the waves not to be seen again until just before sunrise. So, instead of porn, I got a love story. Shit happens.”
Vashon breathed deep his impatience.
Issaquah pushed on.
“While Shiatoru was out with our new found accomplices working hard to maintain my dubious opinion of his manhood, I walked the beach with the village woman, laughing and talking of our men, collecting shells for ornaments, and seagrass for cooking. As we rounded some tall rocks we saw there, in a shallow tidepool, what at first looked like a woman, lying still, her eyes closed, her body from just below her bare breasts down submerged in the water.
The others were immediately on their guard, superstitious to the extreme as they were, and wanted to turn and flee, sure it was a demon, a bad omen. I suggested they go back to the village, that I, having no family, would approach the creature and discern whether she be a demon or witch, or some poor drowned soul washed up onshore. I thought I might have a time getting rid of them, yet much to my surprise, and relief, they did not argue, instead of praising my bravery and sacrifice and turned, leaving me a knife for protection, and left quickly back toward home, chattering prayers all the way.
Once they were out of sight I went to the creature, and as I got closer I saw that just beneath the water, just beneath her navel, where on might expect her dark pubic hair to begin, scales were instead, beginning as the top of a pyramid, where a mortals navel might be, and cascading down and around her, and a fishes body beyond, a large tail fin and smaller ones along her length. Shiatoru had spoken the truth, the Ningyo did exist!”
Issaquah paused again, allowing Vashon to digest all she had said. She could see the wheels turning in his head, it was imperative to her grand scheme that he see, and through that understanding, acquiesce. And given that, and though it was out of character for her, she was patient with him.
“So even a witch can be caught with her knickers down,” said Vashon.
“You want to know the saddest thing I have ever witnessed in all my existence?” she asked.
“Do tell,” he said, truly wanting to know.
“The astonished look on my precious Lucifer’s face the first time he glimpsed mankind. He had heard, but not seen, and once confronted, stood aghast, jaw dropped, eyes wide. The favorite General of God struck dumb. Absolutely priceless”
Vashon did not pursue, instead, adding silently, without fanfare, the insight to his small but growing bag of tricks. Issaquah continued, looking off again, plucking the memory from some distant point in the air above them.
“And then, to my astonishment, the Ningyo turned her black eyes and gazed longingly at me. This experience was truly magnificent! For there, in her pearl white orbs, I found intelligence, for I could see it thought, and felt, and had some cognition of its fate” she said, meandering whimsically, as if she was alone, musing aloud to herself.
“How many dying faces had I looked into, the denial, the thread of hope one clings to until the very end and beyond. And the pleading, sad and pathetic, for one more breath, one more precious instant, when most had been wasted on some sanctimonious sense of worth or importance, or at the very least another day to invest in such, for no other reason than to endure the only thing they had ever known, and stay the inevitable, that which is a mystery, the abyss, death.”
She then came around, as if awaking from her trance, and looked coldly at Vashon, who watched her intently.
“And what did I do with my treasure, this wondrous, mysterious angel of the deep?”
Vashon sat motionlessly, contemplating a bloody event.
“I will tell you. I took my knife, the blade of which was most pernicious, for there are no sharper blades than those of Edu, and, putting one hand to her forehead, I rose above her. Oh, and did she not mistake my intent? Imagine, her believing I felt pity for her, would somehow save her, toss her back to the life-giving sea.
Hah! The exact same look Satan wore that first day, that recognition that all is lost, as I pushed her head back, exposing her throat. Then, placing my blade just below one ear, pulled and pushed, in a slicing, no, sawing motion, to the other ear, revealing her meat, releasing her life’s blood in jets that sprayed my arms and chest, and more to the point, my face, my mouth, where I licked at it and swallowed all that was there. Her exposed windpipe sucked at the air as she tried in vain to swallow, to clear an obstruction that did not exist, until finally, as I held her still, she quivered her beautiful eyes rolling back in their sockets, life itself ran away from her.”
Vashon caught himself, shaking his head slowly from side to side. A motor response, entirely unintentional, though telling.
“Jesus woman,” he said, near indignant, “You are brutal!”
Issaquah chuckled low.
“Oh, do forgive me my love. Have I upset you?” the sarcasm in her voice stinging. Vashon remembered her original question, what he would do if faced with a mermaid.
“Not sure I could do that,” he said.
“That we are here to discover, yes?”
“Survival is one thing, lady. But damn, you are just mean,” he said, once again the feeling of wanting to be anywhere but near her. She then took on the aspect of one who had only just moved a chess piece into a most comprising position. She savored the moment.
“Which would you consider the lesser evil, to kill quickly, honestly, with purpose? Or drown a younger brother in poison with the promise of manhood?” she said, this femme fatale, her knife hitting yet another bone.
There was nothing for him to say, so he said nothing.
Her point well taken, she continued.
“I kneeled there beside my catch, suddenly at a loss. Had I not dreamt of that moment since Shiatoru had first enlightened me as to the creature’s existence? How I would gorge myself on her flesh, ignorant to how the magic worked? Why had I never thought to consult him as to the sorcery involved; what part to eat, were there rites or rituals? Should she be cooked over fire, was I to eat her fish part, her human part, or both? I might wait and seek his opinion when he returned, but time, that bane of all flesh, again worked against me.
I feared someone might find her and throw her back to sea. And to make matters worse, and true to prophesy, there was storm sign, huge grey clouds, and a quickly rising wind. I had to act and act I did. I used the flat of my blade to scrape a wide swath of scales from her skin. Then, hacking a generous portion of her pearl white flesh from her carcass I put it into my mouth and chewed, ravenously, continuing until I felt I could swallow no more. Then I put my face near the opening my rapture had created and lapped at her blood, a hyena at her carrion, until not a drop remained. Ever drink blood?”
“My own, no more,” said Vashon.
“It does not compare. I fell back, sated, the storm clouds by then overhead, threatening to burst, raindrops beginning to hint at the God’s anger of my divine feast. I cared not! Let them threaten and billow as they had for all time, dismayed as always at my defiant affronts, for I had once more broken the rules and now basked in the knowledge that I had bruised again their pompous egos. Children, I tell you. Men and gods, children all!”
Vashon found her contempt a taste melodramatic and yet wanted more.
“What convinced you of this success? Did you feel then, physically, that you had truly gained this…gift?”
She thought.
“No. Yes. That is, not physically, as you say. However, something did occur which suggested to my satisfaction that such a miracle had, in fact, taken place”
“Do tell.”
“I had faith.”
Vashon choked.
“Seriously? You are killing me.”
“Do not scoff, my Naked Bull! My revelations are not meant to humor” she said, a sudden tempest of petulance
“Sorry, my bad. You were speaking of egos and children?”
Issaquah felt her face hot, although she acknowledged his maneuver most worthy, almost rude in fact.
How delicious!
Vashon found his glass empty again. Issaquah stood and filled it, then walked to the window. It was still dark outside.
“And so the brandy is sublime after all, no?”
“It will suffice. Beats the hell outta brine,” offered Vashon, staring at his tumbler.
“I kneeled there, my mouth, my chin, my breasts covered in blood and gore. I began to get up, to walk into the waves and clean myself, when I felt a presence behind me. Turning, I found the same young couple I had followed so many nights, staring first at the mutilate Ningyo, then at me, then back again. And they were crying Vashon, no, sobbing!
What is this, a mystery? To me? I am eternal! What fucking secrets lie here?” Issaquah stopped, her chest heaving.
Vashon sipped.
“So. The great witch doesn’t know everything. That’s gotta suck.”
Issaquah balanced her response, her jaw clenched.
“Less than Him, more than you. Get my drift?” the Lady pointed a most pernicious fingernail.
Issaquah continued her tale. Her eyes were somewhere else then.
“Oars. I can hear oars over the crashing waves. The tall sets of the wind-driven surf had hidden the approach of a shore boat, manned by men, and a woman, and Shiatoru.
Strange. I thought all was aright, though I sensed all was wrong. When they beached, I knew instantly these were no fishermen from the village. But if not, what might my little worm be doing with them? I will tell you of the pestilence of man. Stop me when I am wrong.”
The traveler watched, mesmerized by her dance, her voice. The brandy felt good just then.
“The men came ashore. Pirates. Fucking pirates from a fucking pirate ship. Could I not possibly have a moment’s peace with my fucking mermaid? Seriously! And to add to the clutter, that little bitch Shiatoru leading them. Well! Pull my trousers down and spank my bare ass! If that little shit didn’t sell me out to save his stinking ass!”
Vashon sat up in his chair, the story now getting good. Shiatoru’s death, however tasty, then made some sense.
“As the storm turned above us, the crew advanced. There were two that led, Bryn Mawr and Redmond. Shiatoru behind them prodded by a longsword up his spineless back by fetid ship rats. I thanked the Gods for the wind, for what I did smell made me wretch.
He that spoke first was Redmond, from ignorance, as you must know by now.
The two toasted their agreement.
“Is this her then?” asked Redmond.
A prod to Shiatoru’s ribs spurred an answer
‘Yes,’ he said, refusing to look me in the face. Coward.
Then the bastard Redmond looked toward me.
“And what of this…this fish creature?”
“Ningyo.”
Redmond laughed, caring not.
“Seems your whore is hungry,” he growled and began to undo his fittings, “I’ll give the wench something to chew on.”
“Now, to be honest, he would never have touched me, had he ever gotten that far. But, as the storm was upon us, a much wiser soul held sway.
“Redmond!” yelled Bryn Mawr, “The storm! We must return to the ship, now!”
Redmond broke suddenly from his passion and fixed himself, embarrassed it seemed by the tongue lashing. Then, red-faced, he ordered.
“Bring them, and that…that fish!”
Issaquah sat again, wrestling with the memory. Vashon watched as the woman was silent for a time.; he gave her this.
Suddenly animated she awoke.
“It was not the first time I had witnessed the cowardice of man, nor would it be the last. It meant little to me, I mean, really? It was the strength of the dark-skinned woman that intrigued me. And it was her I watched as we were taken away from Edu through an unrelenting surf toward a ship. One of a vast armada, though that would all soon change.
We arrived at the ship, only just. We were now four prisoners, five if you count the dead Ningyo. Tossed in the hold roughly as they threw salt on the corpse to preserve her. In the midst of the tempest, the crew forgot of us, for death was in the working. There were shouted orders and much ado above, and then there was not but to endure. The sea rose and fell as the ship groaned its creaking death. I and the two from the village listened to Shiatoru’s gibbering as he shit his pants in fear of a violent end.
The storm descended on us with a vengeance and ripped the masts from the hull. The captain, drunk and unconscious, awoke from his stupor much too late to order the sails secured. Running out on deck with his trousers at half-mast, he was hit by a falling timber and killed instantly. The crew hardly noticed as the next set of waves washed him overboard, the near comical look of mute protest lost to the howling wind. Those of us below felt the ship list; then the sea fell upon us, saltwater spilled down the hold with the screams.
The screams from above. We could only but wait for death. I, of course, had no fear.”
Vashon sat up.
“But you are here. You somehow survived.”
Issaquah looked at him hard in the eyes
“Not so fast, my love. For the Devil must be given his due.” and she waited, and drank. There was time yet.
“The ship was broken and adrift in an unfortunate sea. The terrified shouts from above abated, the pounding of boots on the deck had ceased. There was no more to do but die. And so began the long wait for that salty oblivion. I heard each soul on that doomed vessel as they bitched and moaned at the fates and prayed to their Gods and I laughed. Oh, did I not laugh! There in the belly of a sinking ship, up to my tits in saltwater and piss, how I laughed. Good fucking luck with your Gods!
The armada had fled to save themselves. Every pirate for himself. The storm, refusing to finish us off, decided to back away to a comfortable distance and revel in our slow and ugly deaths. But this was not to be. For I was not to be so easily dispatched, now that I had a hundred lifetimes in my stomach.
I called to my Prince, the one being I knew would come to my aid come hell or high water.”
“Sumner.”
“You might call him that.”
Vashon nodded.
“No one but I noticed as the ship, adrift for days after dry salt days began to move steadily through the killing water. They were too busy chasing rats when the supplies were gone and pissing into each other’s mouths when the water ran out. And when the last rat was swallowed whole, only then did they remember the fish creature in the hull, and us, their prisoners. They fell over each other to get to the rotting carcass and drag it up on deck.
It hadn’t struck me until then, and I do not remember why. What the hell is the world going to do with a crew of near-immortal pirates?”
Issaquah shook her head and laughed. Vashon found ironic humor in this as well.
“When all food was gone the starving crew brought us above decks to be the next course. They were just preparing Shiatoru for the spit when someone, Bryn Mawr I’m sure it was, spotted land. And we were drifting toward it at a decent clip. My Sumner was summoning, and the broken ship obeyed.
We entered a wide inlet, Juan De Fuca or some such, then picked up speed as the current sucked us deeper and deeper inland. The landscape was strange to me, as it was to the crew, who stood agape as we passed groups of natives who stared back in mute wonder. There were huge black and white fish in the water, most beautiful to behold.
Then we caught sight of the altar. I knew this would be our destination, my Prince always the showman. Finally, we reached the foot of the massive relic and the ship, having carried us thus far, decided enough said and began to sink. We boarded the longboats and rowed toward the shore, and the village, and Sumner’s black locust fire.”
Issaquah fell silent then, her story done for the time being.
Vashon was confused, “So why not go back to Japan? If that is indeed the origin of these…Ningyo, why not create your dream on a beach somewhere there?”
“You think I have not considered this? I will suggest two reasons. When we four were brought up from the hold, our hands were bound before us. As the ship approached the monolith, Bryn Mawr gave the order to the protests of Redmond, who considered himself now captain, to have our bindings removed. As soon as they were freed the young pair from the village both immediately dove into the water and disappeared. The mystery continued, though I had my suspicions.
And secondly, the Japanese knew me for what I was, of that you can be sure. Perhaps not to the extent of the truth, or who I really am, but a powerful witch, for sure. In most cultures throughout the world, throughout time, witches, demons, gods are as common, their existence accepted as the trees in the forest. In your country, for the most part, beings such as myself do not exist, save for dreams, and nightmares. I walk among you no more than a beautiful woman. And as weak-minded as you are, what better disguise? Most cannot see past my tits and ass, nor want to.”
Vashon did not argue, remembering his first sight of her, then of her impeccable naked body.
“You remember the greatest trick the Devil ever performed?” she asked. Vashon smiled ironically, understanding of a sudden the method of her madness.
“He convinced the world he did not exist.”
“But the world out there knows better. Your country is young and ignorant. Technology is your God. Witches and ghosts with sugar on top for Halloween. Then back in the closet we go. In Japan, my Mukilteo would be feared and avoided by the majority for a time. Then harried and harassed, assailed with pitchforks and boiling tar then burned to the ground, no matter how effective my enchantments, or thick my shroud of fog, sooner or later the little buggers get scared. And nothing sobers a man like fear, agreed, my Naked Bull?”
“Fear makes men, and woman, irrational; make hasty and unwise decisions,” said Vashon, as he glanced out the window, which was once again complete. When had she performed that little magic trick? He had not even noticed, so subtle she was. And what else might be going on behind the curtain? Her story was captivating, to be sure. Was that too a deception?
Yet there was one thing more Vashon needed, something left unsaid.
“Issaquah, tell me, in all truth. They don’t know, do they?”
The witch fell silent, perhaps understanding the question and not wanting part of it. Vashon would not be still.
“They have no idea how long they have been here, do they,” he said flatly. He knew the answer, for it was as apparent as the sound of the waves outside in the dark.
She was not so proud of her answer as defiant.
“I only muted the illusion of time, my love. Is that such a sin?”
Vashon did not tarry.
“The measure of sin is in the intent, woman. Did you intend malice?”
And the witch spoke then coldly.
“You might ask your brother’s ghost.”