“I think renovationsarefun.”
When I didn’t respond right away, she added, “Well, mayberewardingis a better word. Creating beauty is God’s work, you know.”
“Do you want me to pray about helping Mrs. Henderson with her renovations?”
Mom’s lips thinned. She didn’t answer. Instead, she gave a small nod, then turned and walked away.
A dozen Bible verses jumped to my mind—the first and foremost, of course, about honoring my mother and father. But then there was also“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”—which wasn’t a Bible verse, and probably wouldn’t hold much sway with Mom, since she was perfectly okay with being dull. She would call it understated beauty.
I closed my door and reopened my laptop—not to continue my deep dive into Celeste’s background, but to browse apartment listings. Maybe it was time to move out. To carve out a life that wasn’t just an extension of Mom and her mission.
*ETHAN
I sat at the kitchen table, a half-eaten piece of toast in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. The sun was barely up, casting a warm light through the window. The local news was playing softly in the background as I tried to wake up.
Then, my coffee cup froze mid-air.
Celeste was on TV, looking victorious.
I’d been expecting to hear about the oarfish, but not like this. Not in front of a camera. Not like she was some kind of prophetess.
“The markings on the oarfish,” she said, looking perfectly calm, as though she had all the answers, “predict an imminent earthquake. The fish was sent as a warning, and it’s no coincidence that Walter Murphy has found it. He has been chosen to play a role in protecting this town.”
I nearly choked on my coffee when a picture of Grandpa appeared on the screen, captioned: ‘Local Man Communes with Doomsday Fish.’
The anchor, a woman with a smile so bright it was almost blinding, nodded as if she agreed—as if she truly believed that fish markings could predict the shifting of tectonic plates. “That’s fascinating, Celeste. Can you tell us more about what this means for Laguna Beach?”
“The Japanese call the oarfishRyugu no tsukai,or Dragon Palace Messenger, and believe it is a harbinger of earthquakes and tsunamis. This belief stems from reports of oarfish washing ashore before major seismic events, including the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami. But that is modern-day interpretation.”
Celeste smiled with a knowing glint in her eyes. “The markings are part of an ancient system of knowledge. A warning, yes, but also a call to action. Walter will lead us, and together we’ll be ready when the time comes.”
I muttered under my breath. “This is insane.”
But the anchor was eating up Celeste’s every word. “It sounds like we should all be paying close attention to Walter.”
People were going to hear this and believe it. Celeste was stirring up something she couldn’t control.
“Grandpa?” I said aloud to the empty room, my voice a mix of disbelief and frustration. He didn’t need this kind of pressure. I didn’t need this kind of pressure.
The news segment ended, but my unease didn’t. I set my coffee down with a heavy sigh and glanced at the clock. I didn’t want to get involved in whatever Celeste was up to, but it was hard to ignore when she was already pulling Grandpa into the deep end of the sea of delusions.
I flipped to another local news station. There, on the screen, was Celeste again, her silver-streaked hair wild in the ocean breeze, speaking to the reporter from Channel 5 News.
“The markings on the oarfish are not random,” she proclaimed, her eyes alight with conviction, her arms waving for emphasis. “They tell a story, a warning. A great shift is coming, an earthquake. And Walter—he has been chosen. The sea speaks to him.”
I groaned and rubbed a hand over my face. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake.”
The reporter, a young guy who clearly had no idea what to make of her, nodded along. “And you believe Walter has a role in all this?”
Celeste’s smile widened, and she placed a hand over her heart. “Walter has a connection to the ocean, to forces beyond what science can explain.”
I pushed away from the table, my appetite ruined.
My phone buzzed. A text from Clare.
She’s back. And your grandpa’s with her.
I didn’t even finish my coffee. Grabbing my keys, I was out the door in minutes.
