“Kate,” requested her mother. “What do you see now?”
*Katy* listened to the patterns in her ears. “War, of course,” she answered shortly, then paused, hands on headphones.
“Do you see a Jellyfish? Or a Mermaid?” optioned Tracy.
“Mermaid? What the flying f-ck? We always called that the Jellyfish.”
“Just humor me, Uncle Bob.”
We better get back to the ‘X’.
He was dreaming of that creature again who lived at the bottom of the Blue Feather Sea. Olivia. With aspects of Tracy but also different. Obviously a mermaid, yes, but something else as well. Whale? He can’t quite put his finger on it. But — different. Unique, even.
Something about the patterns.
The Mermaid it’s been called for many long years now, son,” spoke Uncle Barnacles to Craighead Phillips later on. “It’s why, it’s why…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. But Craighead could translate: It’s why he can’t remember what year it is, let alone century. Craighead tested him later. “17th?” UB ventured.