Mad didn’t mention the cigarette the next day. She put up a wall of cheerfulness that set Holly at a distance, and kept them moving so there wasn’t much opportunity to chat. Errands, both off and on campus, took up the whole morning. For lunch Madison chose the Student Union cafeteria, which was OK but not fabulous.
“This place is great if you’re in a hurry, or out of other choices,” Mad said.
Holly glanced at some of the other choices—kiosks out in the hallway of the building that offered more interesting food than her grilled cheese sandwich and potato chips. She ate the pickle garnish and picked at the sandwich. She wasn’t really hungry. Part of her wanted to plead with Madison to quit smoking, another part wanted to avoid the whole issue and couldn’t wait to get away.
In the afternoon they visited the science department. Madison took her to the office of one of the professors, a geologist. He was younger than Holly had visualized but both uninterested and uninteresting. After five minutes of pretty meaningless chat, they left.
“So, want to see the classrooms?” Mad asked. “I think we can get a peek at a lab.”
The chemistry lab they looked at was empty; all the instruments were put away, so it was just a bunch of long, high tables. Mad yakked about a class she had taken there the previous year. Holly listened, uninspired.
She cheered up when they hit the grocery store on the way home. While Mad picked up raisin bran and single-serving bowls of soup, Holly filled a basket in the produce department. Cooking made her happy. Even though Mad pretended to be grumpy about it, Holly knew that the meal she was fixing was one of Mad’s favorites.
Or was it? Maybe Mad’s tastes had changed.
Doubt assailed her, but she ignored it as she picked out baguettes for garlic bread. At least two of Madison’s roommates were looking forward to this dinner. If Mad turned up her nose at it, that was Mad’s problem.
Holly paid for the groceries with some of the money Dad had given her, and remembered that he wanted her to buy Mom a gift. As they drove back to the townhouse, she brought this up.
“Pearl Street Mall,” Madison said. “We’ll go tomorrow. You’ll like it.”
The determined cheerfulness was giving way to impatience. Holly wondered if it was because Mad wanted a cigarette. She thought back over the last few days—over all of Madison’s visits home in the last year—and saw Mad’s behavior in a new light.
Her sister had become edgy, impatient. Holly had assumed it was because she was pursuing a line of study that she didn’t really love, but maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe it was just addiction.
She didn’t like thinking about that, and she sure wasn’t going to bring up the subject. Mad’s choices were none of her business. She was an adult, and Holly was still a high school kid.
When they got to the townhouse Holly started cooking right away while Mad disappeared upstairs. It was still early, but the spaghetti sauce would be better if it simmered for a while, and Holly had bought some fudge chocolate pudding mix to make for dessert. She had just poured the pudding into bowls and put them in the refrigerator when Pam walked in.
“Hi, Holly! Whatcha doing? Working on the feast?”
“Um, yeah.” Holly gave the spaghetti sauce a stir, turned down the heat, and covered the pan. “Actually I’m done for now. I was thinking about taking a walk down to the lake.”
“Can I come along?”
“Sure, I guess.”
Pam grinned. “Let me grab my sandals.”
Holly stepped out onto the back patio to wait. The pansies’ colors were even more glorious in sunlight, and between them the bowls of white petunias cascaded like foaming waterfalls. It made Holly want to create something like this at home. Maybe she’d plant a bowl of flowers when she got back—though it was kind of late in the year for that. Chrysanthemums would be better than petunias at this point.
Pam joined her, wearing a Rockies cap and shades over her tank top and shorts, her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She carried a plastic grocery bag. “Do you want a hat?”
“Nah. I’m all right.”
Pam swung the gate open and started down to the path. Holly caught up with her.
“Your flowers sure are gorgeous.”
Pam smiled. “Thanks.”
“Are you studying agriculture?”
“Nope. Nursing.”
That made sense. Pam seemed to care a lot about other people.
“How about you?” Pam asked. “Have you decided on a major?”
Holly kicked a pebble down the path. “Not yet.”
“Well, you don’t have to choose right away. There’s a lot of pressure to do that, but it’s better to know what you want. I changed my major twice.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Drove my parents nuts. They wanted me to study business, so I started out there, but I hated it. Then I tried education. I should have just gone with my gut to begin with.”
Holly thought about that, wishing Mad had been here to hear it. Maybe Pam had talked about her changes of direction with her roommates.
They reached the path along the lake shore and started walking north. Holly kept an eye on the water, watching for any movement, any sign of a face.
“You know, Carla’s graduating next spring, and she’s going to California for grad school. We’ll be looking for another roommate next year.”
Holly didn’t say anything. She knew what was coming.
“Think you might be interested in CU?”
“I don’t know. Just came up to take a look.”
“It’s a good school.”
“Yeah.”
“And Boulder’s a pretty good town. Kind of conservative, but that’s all right.”
They were nearing a stand of cattails where some ducks were clustered. Pam opened up her grocery sack and the birds swarmed toward her, quacking madly. She took out a handful of bread crumbs and flung them over the water, sparking a free-for-all, then offered the bag to Holly.
With all the commotion the ducks were making, Holly figured any water spirits in the lake were probably watching from a distance. She tossed bits of bread one by one to hopeful ducks, watching them catch and gobble or miss and fight over the crumbs with other birds. She and Pam stood there until the bread was gone and Pam stuffed the empty bag in her pocket.
The ducks figured out pretty fast that the party was over. They drifted away, quacking and nipping at each other.
Holly looked out over the lake. Someone had a boat out at the far end, chopping up the water. She brought her attention to the shore nearby, gazing into the murk at the feet of the cattails.
“Did you ever see anything interesting in the water?” she asked.
“There are some big koi in there. Someone let them loose a couple of years ago, and now they’re really huge. They’re pretty shy, though.”
“Do people fish?”
“Sometimes. Technically it isn’t allowed.”
Holly squatted by the water’s edge, peering deep. “Any turtles or anything?” What she wanted to ask was if Pam had ever seen a water spirit, but she was too chicken.
“Might be. I’ve never seen one.”
Pam joined her and tossed a pebble into the water. Holly frowned at the expanding ripples.
“One time when I was pretty stoned I thought I saw a mermaid,” Pam said.
Holly glanced at her. “Here?”
“Over at the north end, by those trees. It was after a party.”
“Let’s walk over there.”
She stood and started off along the path. Pam followed, but at an ambling pace. Holly slowed down to match her.
“What did it look like?”
“I don’t really remember. I thought it was beautiful, though.”
Holly shoved her hands in her pockets and glanced sidelong at Pam. “Do you believe in mermaids?”
Pam laughed. “In a lake in Colorado?”
“Well, maybe it was some other kind of—water spirit.”
“You know, that sounds really lovely. I’d like to believe that.”
But you don’t. Holly bit her tongue, wanting to blurt out that it was true, it was real. If she said that without proof, Pam would just think she was crazy.
She kept an eye on the water as they walked. A couple of times she saw flickers of movement, but they could have been fish.
The stand of trees was bigger than it looked from across the lake; a sprawling cluster of poplars and willows along a good stretch of the shore. There was a pleasant, greenish smell that she couldn’t identify, but it seemed familiar. At the near end of the tiny forest, in the shade and half-hidden by willow branches, stood a wooden dock. Holly stepped onto it.
“Careful,” Pam said. “It’s kind of rickety. I think it’s pretty old.”
“Where did you see the mermaid?”
Pam gave a sheepish grin and nodded toward the lake. “Out at the end.”
Holly started walking along the dock, watching where she stepped. Occasionally a board was loose or a little rotten, but mostly they were sound. Probably whatever government agency maintained the lake kept an eye on it, and if it was really unsafe they’d have cordoned it off as dangerous.
The draping willows made a lacy green tunnel over parts of the walkway. The muted gold-green light inside felt magical. Holly’s arms began to tingle with excitement.
“This is cool!” she said as Pam caught up with her. “Man, if I were you I’d be out here all the time!”
“I used to come here a lot, actually. Haven’t had much time lately.”
They walked out from under the last willow branches a little before they reached the end of the dock. Holly knelt down and peered into the deep water. She couldn’t see the bottom.
“Was it here?”
“Yeah. It was at night, but there was a full moon, and it glowed down into the water a little bit. Have you ever seen that?”
Holly shook her head. “I’m a desert rat. Haven’t spent a lot of time around lakes or anything.”
“Well, I was sitting here dangling my feet over the water and staring down into it. I was kind of depressed, actually, and thinking about falling in.”
Holly looked at her in surprise. Pam always seemed sunny happy; it was hard to picture her depressed.
“And then she swam by, just underneath the surface, lit up by moonglow.” Pam’s voice had dropped, and her face softened with memory.
“The mermaid.”
Pam nodded. “She looked up at me, then swam around the end of the dock here and headed toward the shore. I jumped up and followed her, but she was too fast for me to catch up. I ran all the way back to the shore before I lost sight of her.”
Holly waited, biting back questions. Pam was looking over her shoulder, toward the shoreline.
“And then I realized I must be more stoned than I thought, so I went home.”
“Where did the mermaid go? Along the shore?”
“I thought she ducked under the dock, but you know, it was dark and I was pretty blitzed.”
Holly sat back and drew up her knees, hugging them. “Do you think she was real?”
“Then I did. Now … I think she was probably a hallucination.”
Holly sighed, frustrated. “Maybe she was a—a guardian spirit, ready to protect you from drowning if you fell in.”
“Hm. If nothing else, she got me to back off on some of the crazy shit I was doing.” Pam glanced at her, smiling. “Sorry. I try to watch my mouth.”
“It’s OK.” She watched Pam gaze at the water for a moment, then added, “It’s still a cool story.”
Pam chuckled. “Thanks. So, should we go back? It’s probably getting close to six.”
Holly checked her watch and stood up in a hurry. She’d left the sauce on low, but they’d been out here longer than she’d planned. As Pam started toward the shore, Holly glanced down into the water once more.
A pale girl’s face looked up at her from beside a pylon, then darted beneath the end of the dock.
“Hey!”
Dropping to her knees, she leaned over to look, gripping the thick ends of the old boards.
“Holly, be careful!” Pam came running back.
“I saw something!”
“Probably a koi.” Pam knelt beside her.
Holly frowned, staring into the water. “It was bigger than a fish.”
It had a face. She was sure it had been a water spirit. She wanted Pam to see.
“Come back!” she called, but there were no more flashes in the darkness. She knew it was down there, the spirit. It was hiding from her. Why?
She felt Pam’s hand on her arm, gently tugging. “Come on, Holly. Really, this isn’t safe.”
Reluctantly she straightened. “I did see something.”
“I believe you.”
Holly met Pam’s gaze and was startled by the worry in her eyes. If Pam told Madison about this, Mad might tell Dad and that could be a pain. She managed a wry smile.
“Maybe it was one of those koi.”
“Some of them are really huge. Like three feet.”
“Wow.”
Holly got up and walked back to the shore with Pam, resisting the urge to keep starting at the water. She wasn’t going to see any more. That spirit had fled from her.
Maybe the lake spirits weren’t as friendly as Ohlan. Maybe they had to be careful since there were so many people around. What if someone saw one and told the cops there was a dead body in the lake? That could cause all sorts of disruption.
As they walked back to the townhouse, she tried to imagine what it would be like for a guardian spirit in this lake, what they would have to watch out for. Protecting all the ducks and fish. Watching over all the critters that came to the lake.
Keeping people from drowning? Was that what the mermaid had done for Pam?
“Did your mermaid have a fish tail?” she asked.
“Honestly, I don’t remember.”
OK, Pam didn’t want to talk about it any more. Holly could take a hint.
“So, why did you decide to study nursing?”
Pam was happy to talk about that. Holly listened to her cheerful chatter, asking another question whenever Pam slowed down. It was safe, and it got them back to the townhouse.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Holly said, smiling as they passed through the patio. “And thanks for bringing the bread crumbs. That was fun.”
Pam smiled back. “Sure.”
The TV was on in the living room, and Pam went in to watch. Holly slipped into the kitchen to check on the sauce. It was sticking a little on the bottom, but hadn’t burned. She stirred it, then got out a big pot and set water to boil for the pasta.
While she fixed the salad, she kept thinking about the water spirit in the lake. She wanted to go back and try to see her again. She’d probably have to go by herself, though, judging from the way Pam had freaked out. And she wasn’t sure if she’d have the chance.
When the water boiled, she put in the pasta and checked her watch, then fixed the garlic bread and put it in the oven. With a few minutes to wait, she went out to the living room. Madison was stretched out on the sofa, and Pam and Sheila were lounging in chairs. Sheila looked up with a grin.
“Smells great!”
“Thanks. I was wondering if you want to eat at the table, or in here.”
“Usually we eat in here, like a bunch of slobs.”
Pam shot her a glance. “We could eat at the table.”
“I don’t care, really,” Holly said. “Just wanted to know what’s the routine.”
“The routine is the microwave special du jour, so that doesn’t count,” said Sheila, standing up. “And since there’s nothing but reruns on, I propose we eat at the table like civilized people, in honor of Holly’s artistry.”
“Don’t say that until you taste it,” said Mad. “Her cooking can be hit or miss.”
Holly walked over to the sofa, pulled one of the cushions from behind Mad’s head, and bopped her in the stomach with it. “Hit or miss my ass.”
“OK, so it’s more hit than miss.” Madison laughed as Holly continued to wield the cushion. “Oof, enough!”
Mad grabbed hold of the cushion and tugged. Holly lost her balance, tumbling onto the sofa top of her sister.
Sheila applauded. “Fight! Fight!”
Holly disentangled herself and stood up, brushing her hair out of her face. Madison held onto the cushion.
“Aww! Rematch!” said Sheila.
Holly checked her watch. “Nah, I’ve got to drain the spaghetti. Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Hurrah!” Sheila followed her to the kitchen and got out plates and silverware. “I think we’ve got a bottle of red wine. Oops! Sorry.”
“It’s OK. If you guys want to have wine it’s fine with me.”
Sheila grinned. “You are awesome.”
Pleased, Holly got to work draining the pasta and setting out all the food on the kitchen counter, buffet style, since the dinette table was just big enough for four people to sit around. By the time she had everything ready, Sheila had finished setting the table. She’d put out four wine glasses, and commandeered Holly’s shot glass of pansies for a centerpiece.
Holly went to the doorway. “Dinner’s served.”
Pam shut off the TV and came to the kitchen, followed by Madison. Sheila was already dishing up.
“This is great!” she said, adding garlic bread to her plate. “You’re hired!”
Mad shot a sharp glance at her, but Sheila didn’t see it. Holly got into line behind her sister.
“Everything looks wonderful, Holly!” said Pam over her shoulder. “Thank you for doing this!”
“Thanks for letting me crash here,” Holly said. “It’s really nice of you guys. I know it was kind of short notice.”
“Hey, better now than next week,” Sheila said, opening the wine. “This is a good time.”
They all settled at the table while Sheila poured. She hesitated over Holly’s glass, looking at Madison. “Just a taste?”
“Yes, please,” Holly said. “Our folks let us have wine at home.”
She looked at Mad, ready for a challenge, but Mad just shrugged. Sheila poured a third of a glass for Holly, then set the bottle by the pansies and raised her own glass.
“To the chef!”
You weren’t supposed to drink a toast to yourself, Holly remembered, so she smiled her thanks, then picked up her fork and spun up a bite of pasta. Everyone dug in, chatting about the day. Holly mostly listened while she sipped at her wine, curious to learn more about Mad’s roommates. She already liked Pam, and Sheila was funny and interesting. Sheila also loved to talk; she dominated the dinner conversation with stories about the CU theater department.
When they were finished, they piled plates in the kitchen sink and retired to the living room to watch TV, again a crime show. At the first commercial break Holly brought out bowls of chocolate pudding for everyone, then at the next break she collected the empty bowls and took them to the kitchen.
Pam was there ahead of her, rinsing dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. She took the bowls from Holly.
“Thanks. Now, shoo! You cooked, so you don’t have to clean.”
“I don’t mind—“
“Nope. House rules.” Pam shot her a smile. “Thanks again for the dinner. It was fantastic. A real treat.”
Holly blushed. “You’re welcome.”
She wasn’t that interested in the TV show, so she fetched her book and a sweater and went out to the patio to read. She was a lot more comfortable tonight; sharing a meal had made her feel more at home. Lounging with her feet on a plastic footstool, she opened Amanda’s memoir.
And was suddenly homesick. She’d only been gone a day, but Amanda’s description of the mountains, hiking in the forest, and picking raspberries made her long to be back in Las Palomas. She read hungrily, seeing in her mind the places Amanda wrote about. When Amanda described hiking up to Enchantment Spring, the skin on her arms started to tingle.
The trail is faint, no more than a game track leading up into the woods. I learned of it from one of the teachers at the school, who used to take the boys up there on trail rides, but I never went there myself until after the government came. Needing escape one Saturday afternoon, and not having had the forethought to apply for a permit to leave town, I hiked up the mountain instead.
I could tell when I was getting close to the spring because the bushes grew thicker and more lush, and the ground became spongy and damp. I had to push my way through a thicket of scrub oak to find the spring itself, which seemed such a tiny pool of water. Looks are deceiving, however. That small pool fed a large thicket and nurtured many birds and animals. Enchantment was exactly the right name.
Holly paused, glancing up at the pots of flowers all around, trying to visualize the spring surrounded by such lushness. She wished she could have seen it. There were a few bushes and plants now, but nothing like Amanda described.
Where did the water go now? That awful concrete coffin held some of it, but the spring was constantly flowing. The water must drain off somewhere. It wasn’t going into the ground any more; there was no sponginess, no thicket hiding the spring. Maybe it was getting piped away. Frowning, she went back to the book.
Here is a story about Enchantment Spring. It may or may not be true.
Long ago on the mesa there was a village. One hot summer the village well went dry, and the people had to go up to the spring for water. Every morning they brought their jars and filled them, then carried them back to the village.
One day a maiden was late going up with her water jar. She was the last to leave the village, and on her way up the trail she passed other villagers coming down, their jars full and sloshing. She worried the spring would not have enough water left to fill her jar.
When she reached the spring all the others had gone. Kneeling by the pool, she laid her jar on its side in the water, but it was not deep enough to reach the mouth. The spring was flowing, but slowly. It would take time to fill the pool again. She had not brought a dipper gourd with her, so she could not fill her jar that way.
She wept, fearing her mother’s anger. Her tears fell into the spring, and then a miracle happened.
Her jar sank into the pool and disappeared completely. A moment later it rose out again, upright and filled with sparkling water. The maiden picked it up, marveling, then set it safely on the ground beside the pool.
“Thank you!” she said. “Thank you spirit of the spring!”
And the spirit answered. He rose out of the pool, pale and beautiful, clad in fabric like rippling water. His smile was warm as sunshine.
“I have been waiting for you,” he said.
Holly snapped the book shut. Her breaths came short and fast. She could hardly believe it, but there was only one explanation.
Amanda had met Ohlan.