29. Hollywood Honors Nina Martin

29

HOLLYWOOD HONORS NINA MARTIN

TERESA

" L ook, they even mention it in her obituary," Dawn mumbles behind me to Taara.

Wrapped up in a blanket with a cup of hot cocoa between my hands, I haven't moved since Taara and Anelisa dragged me inside. After trying to get answers out of me for half an hour, everyone gave up and left me to my devices, staring out the window, waiting for the seas to calm and Pacari to walk out of the ocean, beaming.

But the ocean only got worse. The skies only got darker. My cup of hot cocoa is a lie at this point, lukewarm at best.

"Nina Martin, former Hollywood starlet, dies at an impressive one-hundred and fourteen years. Though her age has not been verified, her history has spanned almost the entirety of Hollywood—from early silent films to Prohibition, talkies, and beyond, her last film appearance was Wolf Animation's adaptation of a Hans Christian Anderson classic, Daughters of the Air. While the film was panned in reviews, many remember the movie fondly as a bookend to a glamorous career. Ms. Martin is recorded as having done the film for her—uh—grandchild."

Dawn pauses.

"Thanks for correcting them," Zephyr smirks.

"Though much of her life has been private since the 1950s, Ms. Martin's past is a star-studded account of some of Hollywood's greatest. She survived all of her contemporaries, including Charlie Chaplin, Clara Bow, Mary Pickford, and Greta Garbo, as well as six husbands. Today is a sad day in Hollywood to lose such a legend. She is survived by her four daughters and a single grand—child." Dawn corrects aggressively again.

Zephyr sighs. "There's so much they missed."

"Nina Martin?" Dawn asks. "In her obituary?"

With a shrug, Zephyr explains, "Obviously her real name is on the internet. But she always liked to keep her private life and her movie life separate. I guess they were honoring that. Originally she went by Nina Martin because she was afraid to lose money because of ‘nativist sentiments.' Mom later told me that in the 1910s there was a series of attacks on Mexican-Americans by like the Texas Rangers and other white mobs. So it was probably fear, too. Abuelita was really white-passing, so people never knew unless they dug deeper."

"I can't believe how old she was," Taara says.

"She was born the year Edison demonstrated the first talking motion picture," Zephyr says. "Fun fact she liked to bring up all the time."

"She's older than bras," Dawn says in awe.

Everyone else laughs.

I feel like I'm losing it, sitting here, listening to them all chatter on, when the love of my life is out there risking everything. And they don't even know the danger we could all be in. Not that I do either. I'm so close to explaining everything to them, because I don't know how to keep secrets like this, when I spot a flash of color amidst the waves.

"Teresa!" Anelisa squeaks out as I rush to the back door.

But I don't care. I run to the edge, my heart pounding with excitement. He made it back!

As soon as I reach the edge of the water, I call out for him, "Pacari!"

But the flash of green isn't Pacari's. Kalixto swims up to the edge of the water, gripping tightly to some plants so he doesn't get swept along in the rough current.

"How did she die?" he shouts against the wind .

I bend down to hear him better, holding the ground so the wind doesn't blow me away.

"What?" I yell back.

"How did she die?" he asks again.

I shake my head, trying to understand why he's asking this in the middle of a storm when Pacari is facing up against a terrifying sea witch. "Do you mean Nina Martinez?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"I mean she was really old," I tell him. "Like really old."

What did Zephyr say? I'm trying to remember specifics, but I've been so caught up in my own stuff that I haven't been the best friend lately.

"Pneumonia," they say.

I look behind me, and Zephyr stands over me, hands in their pocket, glaring down at Kalixto.

"I'm not even going to ask," they say.

Kalixto stares back at Zephyr, wide-eyed. His bottom half is hidden beneath the water, so I can't tell if Zephyr knows he's a siren. But they do seem to know him. So many questions. He finally breaks eye contact with Zephyr and looks to me.

"Cirro has him," he says. "But she's lost to her grief. I need something to bring her."

I blush. "I don't have any more pearls."

He shakes his head. "No, something of hers . "

"Um, Zeph, do you have something of your grandmother's you don't mind getting rid of?"

They look to me, incredulous. "You're explaining everything."

"Later?" I beg.

"Is this what was so important, earlier?" they ask.

I nod.

"Later," they sigh, and run back into the house.

"You know each other?" I ask Kalixto.

He shakes his head.

Okay. Obvious lie.

When Zephyr comes back, they hand over a weird-looking statue covered in barnacles. Kalixto's expression changes rapidly as he sees it.

"Good," he says, looking it over. "I'll bring this to her. You want to come?"

Oh, he's asking me. Zephyr shoots me a weird look—almost insulted.

"I promise this is important," I explain to them.

They just shake their head and storm back into the house.

"I can't," I say. "Unless you have a way I can breathe underwater."

He chucks the nautilus necklace my way so fast I almost get bonked in the head with it. A little panic seeps in.

"Is Slugger okay?" I ask .

Kalixto nods, holding a slug in his hands. Its skin is a dark black-blue with raised green stripes going longways across its body. Midway down there's little green things that look like a mix between wings and coral and leaves. The slug lifts its head, showing off orange ear or horn-looking things and an underbelly of orange.

"Oh my god, he wasn't kidding," I mutter to myself. "Is that Slugger?"

Kalixto nods, submerging his hands again.

"Why are you bringing me?" I ask. "If I was Pacari, I wouldn't send my merman friend to go bring my girlfriend into the middle of certain doom."

"We need someone she will listen to," he explains. "Whatever she liked about my voice, it's past. At least in her current state. But it will be very dangerous."

Oh, cool. Very relaxing. But if Pacari is willing to risk his life for me, I can do the same.