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Authors: Rachael King

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BOOK: Red Rocks
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I
t was almost dark by the time he reached his father’s house. The clouds had all cleared and the wind died away to a whisper. A few stars were beginning to show, sparse sprinklings of light in the sky. Jake dragged his aching body through the gate but with a last burst of energy ran up the steps to where the front door stood slightly ajar.

‘Dad!’ he called. Panic set in when there was
no answer. He ran into the living room, where it looked as though a hurricane and an earthquake had struck at once: upturned and broken dining chairs lurched drunkenly, books were tipped all over the floor, dents pocked the walls where hardbacks had been flung. Stuffing from the couch cushions covered the floor like candyfloss. Jake stuck his head in the kitchen, just to make sure it was empty, and was greeted by the smell of vinegar and spices from the smashed bottles and jars that littered the floor. There was no sign of his father.

Forgetting the pain in his body, he ran outside, his ears ringing. He glanced up at the shed, but something drew him away from the house, some instinct he didn’t know he had. He crossed the road blindly and ran down to the beach. In the dying light, which streaked the sky with orange and indigo, he scanned the sea and the beach. As the darkness crept around him, he saw a shape on a patch of sand between some rocks. Jake stared harder. It looked like a log at
first, then a seal, and he took a step back. He mustn’t disturb it. But as his eyes adjusted to the failing light, he saw the shape on the beach was not a seal at all. It was too small, not bulky enough. It was a human, lying in the damp sand left behind by the tide.

‘Dad!’ Jake’s chest felt as if it would explode. He ran. Tears stung his cheeks. He threw himself in the sand beside the body, which lay on its front, clothes soaked through, hair wet. It was his father all right, but he was as still as the rocks, and so cold. Jake yanked his shoulder, but Dad’s big body was so heavy he couldn’t shift it. He braced his legs in the sand and threw all his weight into it. This was harder than anything he’d had to do today, and Jake felt small and weak and desperate. But with a final shove, he managed to heave his father over onto his back. Even in the weak light Jake could see the blue lips, though half the face was gritty with wet sand. Dad’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, his face shockingly
pale against the stringy hair that stuck to his forehead and the dark, damp beard. A long scratch travelled down one cheek.

‘Dad!’ he screamed, and shook him, but there was no response — the eyes remained resolutely shut. The light was draining from the beach and his father was being swallowed by the night.

Jake sat down beside him and let the tears come. Into his mind an image formed, of two small girls lying in this very spot, drowned by the sea that had welcomed their mother into its cold arms. He could see them so clearly, their thin, pale limbs in white nightdresses. And now, all these years later, his father lay here, on the same coarse sand. Ted had tried to warn him with his story, and Jake had worked so hard to save his father, pushing himself further than he ever thought was possible, but in the end, it was for nothing. He had failed. Everything was his fault, and now his father was surely dead. Grief pressed down onto his shoulders like a physical
force, and he lay back on the wet sand. If only there was some way he could bring him back. He would give any part of himself just to see his father stand up and walk away.

He rolled over and put his head on his father’s chest, smelt damp wool and salt, touched a cold hand. Suddenly, the body beneath him heaved. Dad’s lungs filled with air, a great noisy gasp of it, and his chest expanded beneath Jake’s cheek. Jake sat up and looked into the staring, wild eyes of his father, barely visible now in the dark.

‘Jake?’ gasped Dad. He only managed the one word before he started coughing. He rolled onto his side, doubled over and coughed and coughed until Jake was sure he would cough up his lungs. But soon he was quiet and still.

‘It’s me,’ said Jake. ‘I’m here.’ His father’s arms coiled around him, pulling him down onto his chest and squeezing. He felt the relief in his father’s touch — the same relief that was now flooding through him.

‘Oh, thank God,’ Dad said. ‘I thought you were dead.’

‘You thought I was dead?’ Jake was confused. Things were the wrong way around. It was his father who had lain, corpse-like, in the sand, not him. He sat up. He grabbed both of his father’s hands, and just managed to pull him to a sitting position. Dad breathed heavily, one arm around Jake’s shoulders.

‘What happened?’ asked Dad. ‘Where are we?’

‘We’re just on the beach. Don’t you
remember
?’

Dad groaned. ‘Not really. Bits. Help me up.’

Together they got him to his shaky feet, and he stood, swaying for a minute.

‘I thought you were dead,’ said Jake. ‘I thought you’d drowned.’

Dad said nothing, just nodded and leant on Jake as he started shuffling back towards the house. It was a slow journey, and Jake felt he might be crushed by his father’s weight with every step. The house was dark, and when Jake
flicked on the living room light, the harshness of it glanced off the carnage. Dad gasped, as though seeing it for the first time. He collapsed on the torn couch, shivering.

‘I’ll get a blanket,’ Jake said. ‘You’re freezing.’ When he came back, his father looked so small. Jake had always thought of his dad as a tall man, with legs that could take mountains in one stride, and yet here he sat looking tiny and, yes, weak. This was perhaps the biggest shock of all.

But he was alive. Apart from the long scratch down his cheek, and his skin blue with damp and cold, he looked physically unharmed. Jake put the blanket over him, then sat down next to him on the wrecked couch. Without its cushions, the springs dug into his backside. Dad’s arm came around him, holding him tight. He seemed dazed, confused; Jake wasn’t sure how much he knew or remembered.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

‘She’s gone, mate,’ said Dad. ‘She’s gone and left me.’

‘Yeah,’ said Jake. ‘I know.’

They sat in silence. Jake looked around the room at the chaos.

‘What happened?’ he asked. ‘After I left?’

Dad turned and looked at him. His eyes were glassy again, as though he couldn’t focus on him properly. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘It’s all a bit of a blur. Like I was drunk.’ He was still shivering with the cold.

‘What can you remember?’

‘I managed to calm her down a bit, after she trashed the office. Not before she gave me this though.’ He laid a finger gently on the scratch on his face. ‘I told her you were just a silly kid playing a game, that you didn’t know what you were saying. But not long after you left, she just pushed me aside and went and stood on the beach, looking out to sea. I left her there for a bit, I don’t know how long for. That part’s a bit fuzzy. Truth was, I was scared of her. Did you see her face? Her eyes?’

Jake nodded. He wondered if he had
unlocked the spell by touching the sealskin when he first got to the boat, and if that was the point at which Cara had broken away from his father, shutting him out. If he hadn’t opened the bag, who knows what would have happened?

‘After a bit, I went down to see her, but she just stood there, looking west, towards the rocks. I took her hand, tried to get her to come inside, but she was cold and hard, like a statue. I don’t know what I did after that. But one thing I do remember: just before she left, there was this sound. It sounded like you, Jake, like you’d let out a huge sigh, but it was all around us. I looked for you, but you weren’t here. And soon after that, she came back into the house. I thought she’d come back to me, but she said nothing, just changed into her dirty old clothes and walked out. She didn’t even say goodbye, but I knew it was over before she’d even set foot out the door.

‘After she left, I sat there for I don’t know how long. It was like the world had stopped. Then
there was a knock at the door. It was one of the local fisherman. He told me he’d seen my boat, smashed on the rocks with nobody inside it.

‘I should have done something then, called a search party or something, but I wasn’t myself, mate.’ He hung his head, ashamed. ‘This sounds crazy, but I thought I felt the sea calling me. Something told me that I could go after Cara, and find you, if I just went into the sea. I don’t remember anything after that. Just you waking me up on the beach. I’m so sorry, Jake. I wasn’t trying to drown myself, I promise.’

Jake nodded. ‘I know. It’s okay.’

Dad shook his head. ‘I tell you what, buddy, there’s been something weird going on here. And I don’t know why, or what you did, but I feel like I owe you my life.’

‘It was the sealskin. I found it, and I put it back.’

Dad opened his mouth, as if to speak, then closed it. He sighed and shrugged. ‘I don’t think I want to know. We’re safe, that’s all that matters.’

But Jake knew that he was lying — their safety wasn’t all that mattered. He could see it in his father’s slumped shoulders, his hollow eyes: he was upset that Cara had gone, and he was going to be upset for some time to come. Not just because of the enchantment: Dad had liked Cara before he knew about the power of the skin. The spell had intensified his feelings, made them irrational, but for a few days, Dad had held out a real hope that he had found someone to love.

‘You’ll meet someone else,’ said Jake. His father just smiled a sad smile.

A
hammering sound was coming from outside the window. In his bed, Jake bolted upright.
Cara
. Was she banging to get in, to claim her skin?

But when he squinted into the late morning light, the events of the day before came back and he sighed. Not Cara then. He was exhausted and his whole body ached, but he dragged himself to the window and looked out. Dad
was up by his writing shed, hammering a piece of plywood over the broken glass.

Jake called out to him, and Dad waved and smiled. The haunted look was gone from his face, but Jake had a feeling that it was tucked away just out of sight, and would never be far from the surface. His father looked strong again in a singlet and jeans with his leather tool belt around his waist. Perhaps it was the fact that Dad’s face was clean-shaven, making him younger, more himself, that made Jake think his old dad was looking back at him.

‘Better get a move on,’ Dad called. ‘You’ve got a plane to catch at lunchtime!’

Jake groaned and turned back to his room. He found his suitcase and threw as many clothes and books as he could find into it, then went in search of breakfast.

Dad had obviously been up for some time. The stuffing had been squeezed back into the couch cushions, the books and newspapers picked up and put back on their shelves or
stacked neatly on the floor.

In the kitchen, a small sliver of glass pierced one of his bare feet, and the floor was sticky and damp, but other than that the broken glass and crockery had been swept away. The cupboard doors had either been screwed back on or taken away completely, revealing empty, clean shelves. It was as if his father had tried to scrub away the memory of what Cara had done.

Dad appeared at the back door as Jake was eating his toast. He came in and started washing his hands at the sink. ‘I thought you might want to go and say goodbye to Jessie and Ted before we go,’ he said. ‘There’s time if we hurry.’

Jake thought about it for a moment. The whole thing felt like a bad dream, especially now that he was rushing to pack and get away on time, just as he had to do at the end of every holiday. He would return to Auckland, and nobody there would ever believe what had happened to him. Part of him wanted to leave
without looking back, to just forget the events of yesterday and the trouble he had caused. But none of it was Jessie or Ted’s fault.

‘Sure,’ he said.

‘Great,’ said Dad. ‘I’ll finish up here. The car’s unlocked. Go and put your bag in and I’ll be down in a minute.’

Jake looked at his father’s back as he cleaned up and wondered if they would talk about what had happened. At the moment, his father seemed to be concentrating hard on trying to forget, to erase all traces of Cara, so Jake was surprised Dad wanted to go anywhere near Red Rocks.

‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ he asked. ‘Aren’t you worried you might see Cara?’

Dad turned around, drying his hands on a tea towel. ‘You’re pretty smart, you know that? Actually, I was thinking of waiting in the car.’ He reached out a hand as if to ruffle Jake’s hair, then appeared to change his mind. ‘I swear you’ve grown since you’ve been here,’ he said. ‘You’ll be taller than me in no time. I’d better watch out!’

Outside, Jake opened the boot of Dad’s car and heaved his bag into it. As he slammed it shut, he felt something nudging the back of his legs.

‘Heel, Sam!’ came a voice, and Jake turned around to see a grey-haired man with a cloth cap on his head, and at the end of the lead in his hand, snuffling around Jake’s feet, the Golden Lab from down the road.

Jake crouched down and rubbed the dog’s ears. ‘Hey, boy,’ he said.

The man smiled and waited while Jake patted his dog. ‘He obviously likes you.’

Jake stared into the dog’s trusting brown eyes and felt a stab of guilt. He stood up and looked the owner in the face, resisting the urge to hang his head.

‘I saw some boys teasing him a while ago,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, I should have told you.’

‘Ah, those little thugs,’ said the man. ‘They just about choked the neighbour’s dog yesterday. Don’t worry, they got caught. The police even
got involved. Those kids won’t be hurting any animals again in a hurry. And don’t worry, Sam here’s still as happy as a clam. No real harm done.’

Sam’s tongue was hanging out and he was looking at Jake expectantly. What was going on behind those soft eyes? Suddenly, Jake got the certain feeling the dog had forgiven him, that they understood each other. After all, they’d both been on the receiving end of the bullying and survived. And Jake had stood up to the boys eventually. Maybe he’d even be able to stand up to the bullies at school next term. He certainly felt ready for them. He gave the dog a last pat and it trotted off with its owner towards the beach.

It was hard to believe it was nearly two weeks ago that he’d first encountered Mark and Dan. And yet, how was it
only
two weeks ago? So much had happened, he felt as though he’d been here for months. And Jessie had grown so much — it was as if years had passed. He felt older himself. Not a little kid any more.

‘Right, we’re off.’ The front door banged behind Dad. He had put on a clean shirt and was a different man from the one who had hunched on the couch last night. Only the wound on his cheek was left as an outward reminder.

Jake turned and looked back at the little cottage, at his father’s writing shed, with its boarded-up window, peeking over the top. He never knew where Dad would be living each time he came; he moved around a lot. He hoped it would be this place, but for all he knew it could be miles away.

‘I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ said Dad, as though reading his mind. ‘I’ve been offered a new place, cheaper rent. I wasn’t going to take it, but now I think the change will do me good. It’s in Paremata. You’ll love it. I’ve got a boat shed to write in. If the dinghy can be fixed, we can take it and go fishing there, too.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘No seals there, though.’

Jake just nodded and got into the car. He had learned not to get too attached to his father’s
houses. He hoped Dad wouldn’t be too lonely without him, but he didn’t know how to say it out loud.

The car rolled into the car park near Ted’s, and Jake got out. His whole body was sore and scraped from his adventures, and he was looking forward to having a rest to let his wounds heal. The cliffs looked huge today, and the wind was up again, churning the grey sky. This is how he would always remember the road out to Red Rocks — windswept and sullen.

He started walking away, but Dad’s door opened suddenly.

‘Wait!’ he called. ‘I’ll come with you. Not sure I can trust you to be back on time.’ As his father laid a hand on his shoulder, Jake wondered if, after everything that had happened, Dad still wanted to protect him and was just making an excuse to accompany him. Or maybe he really did want to risk seeing Cara and was using Jake to give him strength, make him brave. Either way, Jake was glad to have the company.

To catch the plane in time, they needed to set off at a brisk pace. Jake’s legs ached as he walked, and he longed to slow down. Dad took big strides, despite the fact he must have been feeling just as stiff as Jake was after the events of the previous day. Together, they ignored their pain and marched onwards.

Jake’s eyes searched the clumps of kelp and the foamy sea for a sign of the seals, but there were none that he could see. He couldn’t help noticing that Dad did the same.

They passed the wreckage of Jake’s bike as they walked along the road.

‘Don’t worry,’ said his dad, ‘I’ll have it fixed up good as new for the next time you come down.’

Smoke rolled from the chimney of Ted’s hut and up towards the cliffs. Ted took a long time to open the door, and when he did he looked as though he had been asleep. His eyes were bleary and he had new creases on his face. Jake remembered how easy it had been to doze
off on that little bed by the wood stove. Ted looked at them blankly for a moment, then his face brightened and he cracked a wide smile, showing his broken yellowed teeth.

‘Am I glad to see you!’

Dad took a surprised step backwards as Ted rushed forward with his fingers outstretched. The two men shook hands, Ted clasping Dad’s with both of his own. Jake saw understanding dawn on his father’s face: that here was a man who had loved a selkie and lost her, along with his children. Dad hadn’t believed the story when Jake had told him, but Jake realised that deep down his father now knew it to be true. Dad’s whole body relaxed, and for a moment the haunted look bubbled to the surface again while Ted pumped his hand up and down.

‘Thank you,’ said Dad. ‘Just … thank you.’

Jake smiled to himself. It was as if the two men had told each other their life stories without ever exchanging a word.

‘Is Jessie here?’ he asked.

‘Come in, come in,’ said Ted, letting go of Dad’s hand and shuffling back with a sigh.

The room looked much the same as the last time Jake saw it. Shabby, with frayed and mended furniture, and every surface covered, but Jake could see now that the place was tidy and well cared for in its own way. It always smelt fresh and clean despite the age and condition of the house. The ever-present rack of clothes was drying by the fire. Jake could see the shorts and jersey Jessie had been wearing, and also the old overcoat Cara had worn. Dad seemed about to speak, but closed his mouth when he spotted the coat. He stared at it for a few seconds before tearing his gaze away.

Ted gestured around the room. ‘As you can see,’ he said, ‘Jessie’s not here.’

Jake flicked a glance at his father, then said, ‘Will you go and get her?’

‘No, young fella,’ said Ted. ‘I can’t do that, not today. She’s gone home as well. She might be back next year, she might not.’

‘Oh, what a pity,’ said Dad. ‘I’m sorry we missed her.’ He laid a hand on Jake’s shoulder. ‘Maybe Jake can come and visit her next year. We’re moving away, but it might be possible.’

It was at that moment that Jake realised his father had no idea what Jessie was. If he knew, Jake didn’t think he would let him be friends with her any more, not after what had happened with Cara.

‘I don’t know,’ said Ted. ‘I reckon she might have changed by then. You know how kids are. They grow up so fast.’ Ted winked at Jake, who felt himself blushing.

‘Well, all right, Ted,’ said Dad. ‘We’ll leave you to it. I might see you sometime if this idea gets off the ground for my book, the one about the south coast. I’ll have to talk to my publishers about it, of course. They’re pretty fickle.’ He sighed. ‘Although I’m having second thoughts about it myself. Maybe it’s best not to examine things too closely, eh?’

‘That’s true,’ said Ted, smiling his raggedy smile.

Jake forced a smile back and took a last look around the cosy cottage. Would he ever see it, or Ted, again? He wished he’d had a chance to see Jessie one last time. Even if she returned next year, she would be grown up, while he would still be stuck as a kid. That was just too crazy to think about.

On the way back to the car, Dad hoisted the bike onto his shoulders. The waves washed the stones, and Jake thought back to that first day, when it sounded as if the water and the rocks were carrying on a conversation, telling each other stories of what they’d seen.

‘You okay?’ asked Dad.

‘Yeah,’ said Jake. ‘I wanted to say goodbye to her, but that’s okay.’

As he said it, he heard a splashing sound coming from the water.

‘Well, someone’s come to say goodbye to you, anyway,’ said Dad, looking alarmed at first, then relaxing. ‘I wonder if it’s the one we saw when we were out fishing?’ 

Jake looked: a seal danced in the water beside them.

‘I think it is.’ As he spoke, the seal launched itself in the air, spiralled around and disappeared. When it emerged again, moments later, it rolled onto its side and raised a flipper, as if in a wave. Jake waved back and smiled.

BOOK: Red Rocks
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