Chapter 13 Tall Tales
735words
A piece of burnt toast remained uneaten beside a half cup of coffee with excess creamer forming a layer at the top.
I had no choice but to intervene once Mom left the kitchen.
She focused on a blurry photograph inside her hand and didn't see me when I leaned in to sneak a peek.
"That's a pretty color for a fish."
Mom jolted in her seat, pressing a hand against her chest. "Goodness, Carly," she breathed out. "You scared me."
"Sorry," I shrugged and turned toward the fridge. "What kind of fish is that?"
Knowing Mom, she believed the brilliant royal blue scales belonged to a mermaid or a trendy-looking lake monster.
"It's not a fish. This, my love, is a mermaid," Mom said.
I knew it.
Doing my best not to roll my eyes, I responded, "Mom, I'm pretty sure that's a large type of fish."
"Fish with these kinds of patterns on their scales doesn't exist. I've done some extensive research on them, and local fishermen have seen this so-called fish. It has the upper body of a human."
"Dad told me the fisherman around here likes their whiskey."
Mom groaned. "They weren't drunk when I talked to them."
"Who knows." I snagged the carton of milk from inside the fridge, thankful someone restocked and cleaned it. I was convinced I'd have to do it, but no doubt, it had to be Dad's work. "But were they sober when they saw this half man-fish?"
"Carly, don't start." Mom placed down the picture and picked up another one. "Look at this one and tell me they were lying."
Of course, another muzzy snapshot. On it was more of that royal blue tail attached to a torso of a man.
"Photoshop?" I supplied.
"I was there when they developed it. The person who took these used a disposable camera. No one can manipulate it."
I considered it for a moment. "Did you know they sell mermaid tails on Wish?"
Mom looked at me. "What is Wish?"
"It's an online store."
Mom tapped with a finger on one of the photos. "Do these look like fake fins?"
I had to admit she had me there. The tail didn't look even a little bit fake, but I knew there had to be some kind of explanation for it.
Not knowing what else to say, I turned to grab a coffee cup and poured milk into it.
"Oh, honey, I need to ask you a favor."
"Yeah?" I turned to look at Mom.
"Could you take care of all the weeds up in the front yard?" Mom stacked the photos on top of each other. "It looks bad. Hector already had a proper fit of how crummy our side looks."
"The old man next door?"
"Yes," Mom's expression soured. "You might have been right about that man. He's not exactly a ball of sunshine."
"He complained about what, exactly?" I asked. "The weeds?"
"That, and everything else," Mom sighed. "Proceeded to tell us we should get off this—you know what?" Mom glanced up at me, forcing a smile. "It doesn't matter. But Carly?"
"Yes?"
"It's best if you don't go near them. Not as friendly as Lachlan claimed them to be." She picked up a pile of papers. "You can still hang out with your friend, but best not over at their place, you know?"
I nodded. "Okay."
I didn't tell Mom about my unfortunate encounters with Kayn. She already had more than enough pressure on her as it was.
Not willing to allow our neighbors' negative side to get to me, I decided I was going to make a day out of the garden. If it didn't take too long, I could tackle the kitchen next.
I grabbed the most comfortable shorts I owned and a loose-fitting shirt with a large daisy on it, kicked on my flip-flops, and headed outside.
It was cloudy—the air humid and uncomfortable.
I started on the one side of the house, working my way around toward the front. Two hours in and feeling gross with sweat and dirt, I noted Kayn and a woman in her mid-forties heading in my direction.
