From Feet to Fins Part Two
Encroaching Waters
Please note that this is *PART TWO* of a series. If you have not read Stolen from the Tides, I highly recommend it. If you don't... you have been warned. If you want to see more, please like, share, and subscribe!!
---
My name is Haven Levine. I'm a fifteen-year-old girl living in California.
Oh, yes, I can see the picture that is forming in your mind.
You're picturing a bleach-blond chick with makeup caking her pores, huge false lashes so long they go over her eyebrow, and fake tan sprayed on so that she looks like a roasted marshmallow.
Well, big news; I don't even live in the city. I live in a tiny town that hardly anyone knows about called Carmel-by-the-Sea.
I don't have blond hair, and I don't wear makeup. My skin is tanned, my eyes glitter crystal blue with sea-green shards, and my hair grows down to my fingers in copper beach waves with rose-pink streaks. And when I say copper, I don't mean red. I mean the pale, pinkish color of the metal.
Carmel-by-the-Sea is a lovely little town. Everybody knows everybody, but of course, we get tourists who are enamored by the idea of a vacation spent in a small town.
Surprisingly, we get a lot of them.
I stared out at the pale ocean, the same silver color as the velvety dawn sky. The pale gray sky was streaked with exquisite rose, peach, and gold mackerel clouds.
"Haven!" I heard Kim, my adopted mother, calling, "Breakfast is ready!!"
"Coming!" I called, standing up and brushing the sand off my butt and shaking my head to get all the sand out of my hair.
I ran up the beach to our lovely little cottage that faced the ocean. It was colored faded golden orange like the inside of a peach, with ivy and climbing roses climbing up the sides. The paint was chipped, revealing the aged silver wood beneath it.
The inside was rustically decorated, with stained pine wood, old kettles, and plaid curtains in every window.
The smell of fluffy blueberry pancakes permeated every corner of the house. I walked in, breathing in deeply and savoring the smell.
"Here," she said, handing me a plate.
"Thanks," I said, taking it and feeling the question bubble up in my mind like it did whenever I was with her. It is natural for adopted children to have questions.
It swelled up like a balloon when I sat down, growing larger and larger in my throat as it swirled around in my mind like a hurricane.
Suddenly, the balloon popped, unable to contain more substance.
"Mom," I blurted. "Do you know my mother?"
She went still and silent in the middle of flipping a pancake.
"No," she replied. "You know how we got you," she reminded me as she slapped the pancake back down onto the pan.
I sighed. "Yes," I responded. "You found me on the beach and tried to find somebody to adopt me and nobody wanted me."
"See?" she asked. "If we knew your mother, then we would have given you back. Not that we didn't want you," she added hastily. "But it would be dishonest to keep you, especially if your mother wanted you back."
I nodded, reaching for the maple syrup. I wish I could find my parents, I thought as I dug into my pancake.
...
I grabbed my leather purse and walked to the bus stop amid swaying trees, golden streams of sunlight, and the sounds of the beach. The waves crashing on the shore and the songs of seagulls came together to form a masterful symphony, filling Carmel-by-the-Sea with its melodious tunes.
I stepped onto the bus and told the driver, "The normal stop," and dropped ten bucks in his hand.
He knew what I was talking about.
I got off the bus in front of Carmel Coffee Brewing Co. I walked into the cafe and inhaled the aroma of coffee.
"Can I get a caramel latte?" I asked when I came to the counter.
"Absolutely," said the cashier, a friendly woman with black hair in a bob.
I pulled out my wallet when I heard a voice behind me. "No, don't worry, I can cover it." I whirled around to see a pair of dark chocolate eyes set in a vaguely familiar, pale, honey-toned face.
"No, it's okay," I said, pulling a five-dollar bill out of my wallet.
"I've got it!" he laughed, giving the cashier ten dollars and me deja vu. "I'll take a vanilla latte."
I looked over at him, unsurely, awkwardly. Does he want me to sit with him, I thought, sitting down at my usual spot. He followed and sat across from me. Turns out, that's a yes.
"Hello," he said with a shy but somehow charming smile. Yup, I've seen him before, I thought, that smile confirming it.
"Hi," I replied nervously, smiling back and pushing my hair out of my eyes. His face was boyish and had a long, pointed chin. His lips were thin but sweetly curved. His black waves cascaded down onto his forehead, yet were still neatly styled.
I was so enthralled by this object of boyish beauty I barely noticed when my name was called. "Oh, here, I'll get that for you," he said, walking to the counter, not heeding my protests.
He came back, setting my coffee in front of me and sitting back in his seat.
"So," he said. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Haven," I replied, smiling down at my coffee after taking a sip. "Haven Avrelle."
"It's lovely," he replied, then took a sip of his. "My name is Sloane Lance."
"You were a Sophomore at Carmel High School this past year, correct?" I asked, realizing why he looked so familiar.
"Yes," he replied. "Wow, I didn't realize you actually noticed me. I thought I was below your notice."
"How could I not notice?" I murmured, smiling up at him flirtatiously. It was true. He wasn't exactly gorgeous, but his boyish charm was uniquely enticing.
A grin spread across his face. It occurred to me that Andrew probably hadn't planned on me flirting back. He is cute, I thought as I twirled my long hair around my fingers.
"What's up?" he asked after a moment of stuttering.
"Mmm. I wish I knew who my parents are," I said. "That's about it."
"You're adopted?" he asked.
"Yeah. Kind of. Kim and Alan found me on the beach," I replied.
"Wow."
"Yes, they tried to find my parents, but no one took me in," I sighed, taking another swig of my coffee.
"Hm." Andrew set his thoughtful chin on his hand. "I bet they're not telling you something."
"Like what?" I asked, frowning at him over my cup of coffee.
"I don't know," he shrugged. "I bet it is something big, though. And the only way to figure out is to ask."
"I can't," I said, shrinking from the notion in a flare of panic.
"Hm," he said, looking at me with an expression of mild disappointment.
"How can I?" I asked.
"Approach them boldly," he said. "Act like you know it already, and they will tell you."
"And if that doesn't work?" I fretted.
"They're not hiding anything," he replied.
...
We finished our coffee and bid each other farewell. "Will I see you around?" Andrew asked with another wonderfully shy, adorable smile.
"Sure," I said, my heart racing as his smile grew wider. "I'll be back tomorrow."
"Sounds great."
"I'll pay for the coffee," I added.
...
I came back into the house, bursting with limerence, sunbeams, and besotted grins. But the glow dimmed when I remembered what Andrew said, the words echoing through my mind.
I bet they're not telling you something.
I bet it is something big, though. And the only way to figure out is to ask.
Approach them boldly. Act like you know it already, and they will tell you.
I felt my resolve to know ossify as I lifted my head, took a deep breath, and strode into the kitchen.
Kim was in there making subs. She looked up at me and smiled with every inch of her lined face. "Hi, Haven! How was your coffee?" she asked. Her smile dimmed when she noticed my frown. "Haven? What's wrong?"
"What aren't you telling me?" I asked, infusing my words with as much seething anger as I could. She froze, a flash of fear coming to her eyes.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I know you're hiding something," I spat. "What is it?" She winced, pressing a palm to her forehead.
"Why can't Alan be here right now?" she groaned, looking at me with pain in her eyes. She took a deep breath and finally spoke. "We didn't want to tell you until you were eighteen."
"What?" I prompted.
"After all, we're still responsible for you, and if you got hurt, it would be all out fau-"
"KIM!" I bellowed. "WHAT?"
She took another deep breath and replied, "Haven... You're a mermaid."
...
Thank you for reading!! If you want to see more of Haven's story please like, subscribe, and leave a comment and insights. Thank you so much for your support!
About the Creator
Cezanne Libellen
I am an ailurophile, xocolatophile, linguaphile, lexophile, and a bibliophile. Writing is my passion. I am currently working on a novel. Subscribe and share my stories if you want to see more of my work!
Comments (8)
Hi Cezanne. I am finally reading Part 2. Wow, you grew up fast. I blinked and you are a teenager. Sooooo, you've had feet all this time. Weird. Let's see what happens next. Really enjoyable story.
Omggg, Kim blurted it out just like that! I wonder what's going through Haven's mind right now. Waiting eagerly for part 3!
I enjoyed part two as much as part 1. I'm also glad that we get to know the lost baby in her teenage stage of life. It not only propels the story forward but sets up the inevitable questions that Haven will face as an adopted child, Great read!
I luv the surprise ending. Great descriptive wording throughout.
The much-anticipated second part, and wow! First and foremost, to agree with Donna below, the jump forward fifteen years was totally unexpected, and masterfully done. Shakespeare uses this device in all four of his last comedies, which deal with magic and the supernatural, and one of which even features a child of the sea named Marina! While readers of your first chapter know that that's what Haven is too, her mysterious origins remain quietly in the background while you take us on a tour of the most beautiful little seaside town you can imagine. You have a rare talent for evocative descriptions, Cezanne. The cottage and the sunny beach were right there in front of me, although what seems to sum it up best of all is the big plate of blueberry pancakes! (What more does a girl need?) Now, nobody below has yet commented on Sloane, but for me he's the high point of this story. Firstly, I do prefer that name to Andrew (the slip-up doesn't matter to a fan of this series!) because the former is more layered. Firstly, Sloane Square in Chelsea, London, is where the Nineteenth Century British hipsters used to hang out, don't you know! Then, in Star Trek Deep Space Nine, it was also the name of a Federation secret-agent who had a big secret to hide... Now, I don't know if this last was intentional, but your Sloane likewise abounds with secrets and mysteries. I don't think he's a bad guy, even though traditionally in stories like this, you shouldn't trust the good-looking dude! No, not a baddie per se, but I suspect there's more to him than we know. I'll just stay with genre television one last time to tell you he makes me think most of Buffy Season One Episode One, specifically when Sarah first met David! (And David was, you know, still slim... Which is how I picture Sloane!) Yep, Sloane "burns bright in the forest of the night" alright. Sorry, just had to slip that in because...I kind of noticed! He is of course quite correct too, for the impression he leaves on Haven is what finally prompts her to ask THAT question, and so treats your readers to THAT fantastic ending! I'm loving this series, Cezanne! Please keep it coming!
Cezanne, I love how you were easily able to reset the scene in this one. Holding the same context and vibe as the previous story but still able to show that time has passed without creating confusion. It's an interesting take that Kim and Allen don't ask Haven to call them "mom" and "dad", it's more like she's staying with family friends or relatives. Created a fresh perspective and narrative!
A great second episode! Interested to see the reaction... 😀
Lol I spit my coffee out at “looks like a roasted marshmallow” 🤣 Love the part II ❤️