Fathom (15 page)

Right now, every Irish Catholic in town crowded into the small chapel and we sat, crushed, side by side on hard wooden pews. And up at the pulpit, Father Sullivan continued to drone on. Almost as ancient as the building itself, his face was weathered and his hands wizened. For some strange reason, he kept watching me throughout the service with dark eyes. I couldn’t help wondering if everybody could see that I was different now. I gritted my teeth and stared back at him.

I dared him to figure me out. Because I certainly couldn’t.

Sean wasn’t here, but I hadn’t expected him to be. His family went to the Lutheran church on the other side of the bay. For the first time since we met, I was actually glad that he wasn’t here today. I didn’t want to see him, not after what he’d said last night.

I knew that I’d been acting crazy lately, but there were still some things that I would never do. Messing around with someone I just met was definitely one of them. Especially since I’d never done anything like that before. With anyone.

Father Sullivan stopped talking for a moment and his gaze fell on me again, softer this time, and that made it even harder to keep my back straight and my hands still in my lap. A whisper-thought slithered through my mind.

He knows something.

There. In between his smile and the arch of his brow. Some sliver of hidden knowledge forced me to shift in my seat. Gram patted my hand.

“Be still, child,” she breathed, low and quiet.

She’s said things like that since I was little, but today it felt like a warning. I fingered the cross that dangled around my neck and saw him glance at it.
Maybe that’s it. The cross. He’s seen it before and he knows why I’m wearing it.

I leaned forward in my seat, eager for the service to end. Brianna and her parents sat across the aisle from us. She motioned to me while everyone else laughed at a joke the priest was telling. She held her hand to her ear—thumb and little finger extended—the universal sign for “call me.” I shook my head, mouthed the words “I can’t.” Then she gestured toward the bathroom and I nodded, very slight. After the Lord’s prayer and communion, I managed to slip away from Dad and Gram, headed toward the girl’s bathroom.

Brianna waited inside.

We hugged, silently at first. I asked her if anybody had found my purse. She shook her head, then a torrent of words flowed out of her, so fast I could barely keep up. She cried between pauses for breath and every time I thought she was done, more words would come out.

“Kira, I’m so sorry about what happened on Friday, I had no idea anybody would put alcohol in those drinks. Three other people got drunk too. And then when you were gone, a big fight broke out and I think that’s why my neighbors called the cops—” She took a deep breath and I handed her some toilet paper. She wiped her eyes, smearing mascara across her cheek. “And now my parents are so mad that they’re talking about moving back to Seattle. Seattle! I can’t believe it! I finally make some friends here, but now it’s not going to matter because everyone is going to hate my guts on Monday because they all got arrested—”

She paused for another deep, shuddering breath and for the first time I realized that my problems weren’t really worse than everybody else’s.

“And you have to believe me that I didn’t know Riley was coming to the party,” she continued, “or that she and her friends would try to hurt you—”

She rambled on about something else then—some expensive piece of artwork that had gotten trashed during the fight—but I couldn’t stop thinking about what she just said.
‘She and her friends would try to hurt you.’
It hadn’t been my imagination. Riley
had
tried to drown me. I opened my mouth to ask Brianna a question, but then she drifted into another topic, unrelated, but equally important.

“I didn’t know until last night when Sean called me. I guess Riley told him that she saw you and Caleb making out beneath the stairs on the beach. And he asked me if that was true—”

So
that
was why he hadn’t believed me last night. He thought I was making up a story, one where Riley was the bad guy.

“Wait a minute!” I held up my hand. “Riley said I was making out with Caleb? And Sean believed her?”

She sniffled, wiped her nose with the shredded tissue, shoved a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”

“But that’s not true!” I said. “You don’t believe her. You can’t.”

She turned away from me then, as if afraid to say any more. Then finally she continued. “No. I know it’s not true. Because—because you were passed out. And Riley wasn’t anywhere nearby.” But she still wouldn’t look me in the eyes. And somehow I knew that there was even more that she wasn’t telling me. I tried to remember, tried to put the few events I knew into sequence.
The girls tried to drown me, I turned into something, Caleb carried me, then I woke up in the car when I was changing back to normal—

Then I figured it out.

Brianna, my second best friend, must have seen me when I was a Selkie.

“You saw me,” I said with a little gasp. “When I looked like them. With gills and green skin and eyes that can see in the dark. You know what happened is really true—”

Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open, but she wouldn’t say anything. A long, dark moment passed and I saw our friendship dissolving. There was something else more important to her than me.

She shook her head, slowly, from side to side, and then finally she spoke.

“I never—I didn’t see anything like that, Kira.” She dropped the tissue on the floor and took a step away from me, as if looking for a way to escape. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But you know that Riley tried to drown me, or turn me. You said—”

“I never said that. I don’t know what happened when you were in the water. Not until I saw you under the stairs.” She glanced at herself in the mirror, tried to smooth her hair like she was getting ready to leave the bathroom. I grabbed her hand, held her in place, forced her to look at me.

“But you said something about Riley wanting to hurt me.”

“No. I didn’t.”

Then she said the worst thing one friend can ever say to another. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and her head tilted to the side, looking and sounding just like a card-carrying Paper Doll.

“If you ever tell anyone that I said that, I’ll deny it,” she said. For the first time, her eyes slid to the right and she scanned the stalls as if someone might have been listening. Then she faced me again. “So, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t say anything about it. I mean it, Kira.”

A threat. One of my best friends just threatened me.

I leaned against the bathroom counter, all the fight in me gone. I had been hoping that she would back up my story, at least with Sean. But she wouldn’t.

Meanwhile, she watched me, a cautious expression in her eyes. I realized then that I was still holding her hand. She could have pulled away easily, but she seemed afraid. I had a strange feeling that she didn’t dare leave until I granted her permission.

“Go ahead,” I said, releasing her hand. “You can leave.”

She sidled past me and I waited until she opened the door, until she was almost gone, before I whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Judas.”

Then I turned, pasted on my fake church smile and headed out into the foyer, hoping that Father Sullivan didn’t want to talk to me. Because I wasn’t in the mood for any more advice from pretend friends.

Kira:

Sunday. The day of rest. Although right now it felt more like a day of unrest. I sauntered in the kitchen door, pretending that I couldn’t hear Gram’s endless ramble about how the yard needed more work. I knew that she expected me to rush into my room, change my clothes and start pruning the bougainvillea. Just then I noticed that the light on the answering machine was blinking, two messages were flashing. Before Gram or Dad could stop me, I punched the button, heard a familiar voice.

“Kira, can you please take my shift down at Crescent Moon Souvenirs this afternoon? I have to take my dog to the vet. He’s been sick all night and I—” It was my cousin, Celia, and her voice cracked and the voice mail ended in a long beep.

The next message was from her too. Both Dad and Gram stood beside me in the kitchen now, listening. This time Celia was crying when the message started and the tone in her voice brought tears to my eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I just can’t make it in today. If you could please take my shift, I’d really—” A long moment of silence. I thought I could hear her talking to her dog in the background, something like, it’s okay, baby, you’re going to be fine, okay? Then she spoke into the phone again, “Anyway, if you could work today from three to close, then I—” She didn’t say any more. I glanced at the clock. It was already a quarter past two. I gave Dad one of my Can I? looks.

He nodded.

I called Celia back and talked to her for about fifteen minutes. I made sure she was okay—she was already on her way to the vet and her dog, a little terrier, yipped in the background. She kept telling him to lay down and I kept telling her to keep her eyes on the road and watch out for other cars. I didn’t hang up until she finally reached the vet. Then I dashed into my room and changed my clothes. When I came out, Dad handed me my new cell phone.

“I know. It’s a day early, but you’re not going anywhere without it from now on,” he said. “Understand?”

“Yeah. Thanks!”

He took a few minutes to show me how everything worked and, like a good daughter, I pretended like I didn’t already know. By the time we finished, I had my e-mail account, Twitter and Facebook all set up. And I had his phone number hooked up on speed dial. Really quick, I snapped his photo and attached it to his phone number. He grinned, probably realizing that I had already known how to do all of this.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride,” he said.

Neither one of us paid any attention to Gram. I didn’t notice her until I was walking out the door. She hulked in a kitchen chair, arms crossed, sullen expression on her face. I could tell that she didn’t like what I was doing.

She didn’t like it one bit.

•

I called Celia three times during the first hour I was at work, until we were both convinced that her dog was okay and just needed a round of antibiotics. Then I propped the front door of the store open, just far enough to let the music from a band down the street drift in. One of the nearby restaurants was frying fish and I realized that I had missed dinner. On top of that, I could smell coffee and fresh-baked muffins from the Starbucks next door. I sighed, tempted to dash out for just a minute and grab something to eat, but I couldn’t. I was working alone today.

Instead, I dug through my knapsack until I latched onto a bag of pretzels left over from lunch last week. I ripped it open and started eating while I rearranged the jewelry in the front display case. I had just straightened out the shell bracelets and mood rings and was moving on to the coral necklaces when I felt a small earthquake as it rumbled through town. I swayed to the side, used to these sorts of things since I’ve dealt with them all my life. Then I snapped to attention, for I suddenly remembered something.

 This was exactly how it always felt just before Riley showed up.

I watched the front door, tense, wondering if she would really dare to come in here. And if she did, what would I say? Would I accuse her of trying to kill me, of lying to Sean, of using her creepy Selkie magic on me?

And even as those thoughts skittered through my head, I realized how crazy they all sounded.

My muscles tensed, my heartbeat sped up and I hadn’t even seen her yet.

But I could smell her. Like salt and sand and seaweed, a breeze swept through the shop until it engulfed me; it made me lick my lips and wish that I was down at the ocean right now.

Then, finally, somebody crossed the threshold, a shadow, a tall dark shadow. It definitely wasn’t Riley. He walked up to the counter, just like the first time I saw him, his eyes mesmerizing, his hair windblown, a hesitancy in his stance. Like he wondered whether he was welcome or not.

“Hey,” he said.

Caleb. Still as cute as ever. Made me catch my breath. It felt like the temperature in the room just went up ten degrees. I dropped my package of pretzels and they scattered across the floor. He bent down and picked up a handful, poured them on the counter, then he smiled. I wanted to be mad at him, I really did, but it was too hard. My hands settled on my hips and I tried to look angry, but I knew I was failing.

“What in the world happened the other night?” I demanded. At least he could tell me his side of the story. And I could hope that it sounded like mine.

He didn’t say anything. Not at first anyway. “You—Riley turned you.”

“Turned me into what? And how? And where is she? I don’t want her wandering in right now.”

“How many questions is that?” His smile broadened. He was trying to make me laugh, but I wasn’t in the mood. “Um, let’s see. A Selkie. Because you are a Selkie. And I don’t know.”

I sat down. I didn’t even know a stool was right behind me, so I guess I was lucky that I didn’t fall down.

“What do you mean, because I am a Selkie?”

“I’m not sure if I’m the right person to be telling you all this—”

“No one else is telling me anything. So, you
have
to.”

And then, just like this morning with Brianna, I got the weird feeling that he had to do what I said. I could see him struggle with it, but then he gave in.

“You’re half-Selkie. Your mother was a Selkie.”

“What in the world are you talking about? All that’s just fairy tale stuff. My mother couldn’t even swim—”

“She just pretended that she couldn’t swim,” he told me. And I had to admit that it made sense. Who would want to live on a cliff by the ocean if they were afraid of the water? That would be like living on the top floor of the Sears Tower and being afraid of heights.