Seven Tears at High Tide (8 page)

“What look?” Morgan sighs.

Linneth smiles at him and sits on a boulder, then pats the space next to her. She doesn't say anything, just looks up at the stars. They're starting to come out, glimmering at them from millions of miles away.

Morgan watches the sky with his mother, staring at the infinite silence above them, puzzling over what he wants to ask and how to say it. A wave gently comes ashore, trickling over their feet, bringing with it the slight touch of the Sea. Morgan supposes he could always ask the Sea, but he doesn't know what kind of answer he would get, and how much of it would be something he already knows, and how he would have to struggle to figure out what it meant.

“The humans often look to the sky for answers,” Linneth says, so softly it's almost to herself. The starlight reflects in her eyes as she gazes skyward.

“And are they there?” Morgan blinks at the stars.

Linneth shrugs. “Perhaps. It's an inspiration to them, but in my experience, a person may find the answer they seek simply in laying out their problem.”

Morgan stares at his feet, at the imprint they make in the sand, watching the water trickle slowly back down to the ocean.

“Or you can always ask me.” Linneth's laughter tinkles like bells.

“Is—is love different for humans and selkies?”

His mother does not answer, and Morgan looks over to see her lost in thought. “I don't believe so,” she finally says. “Why do you ask?”

“I love Kevin, but every time I tell him, he gets—I don't know how to describe it. Like he just doesn't know how to respond and he's really uncomfortable.” Morgan wiggles his toes into the sand.

After a long silence with nothing but the stars blinking at them, his mother speaks. “You ask if love is different for humans and selkies, and at the core of it, I do not think it means different things to us. But that's not what you're asking, is it, Morgan? You want to know why your overtures are received differently.”

“I'm just telling him how I feel!”

Linneth smiles at him and runs a hand through his hair. “How do you know you love him?”

“I read his heart the first time I saw him.”

“The humans do not share this gift of ours. How do you think they love?”

Morgan falters, thinking about the body he's in, how limited life must be for them. He takes a deep breath, feeling the grains of wet sand sticking between his toes, and thinks about how humans must love one another, the movies he's seen, the way Kevin's parents look at each other. It's like one of those math problems he has trouble understanding, as if it's in a different language. Which is silly, since he can understand all the human languages, but he can't quite answer this question.

His mother gives him a small smile and taps him under the chin. “It is the selkie way to be able to see inside someone's heart, the way we have been able to throughout all our history. To know each other instantly gives us the chance to recognize compatible partners in our brief encounters with other herds, so we might have the most information available to decide whether to leave with another herd or not.”

Morgan nods. This is not new to him, but he has to wonder how humans pick their mates.

His mother laughs lightly at his confused face and explains. “Humans take time to look for mates, getting to know them over the course of their lives. Surely you've noticed that in your time with Kevin you've learned more about him than what you saw in your initial reading.”

Morgan nods.

“There's a difference between falling in love and just knowing you love him,” Linneth says. “And I'm happy that you have this opportunity to do both. The human way is quite rewarding, you know.”

Thinking about this answer, Morgan leans into his mother's side. She draws her arm around his shoulders and strokes his skin in soothing circles. Morgan thinks he understands; he likes the idea of this—falling in love the human way, slowly, the way Kevin would. If he feels that way.

“What if—”

Linneth shushes him and points toward the sky.

“I am sure he adores you,” she says after a long moment of nothing but the sound of the waves and their soft breaths. “He brings you food gifts and takes you to see beautiful things and shares stories with you. Everything you have told me about him only assures me that your choice to take this Request was the right one, that this will be a good experience for you.”

“The Council chose me.”

“You chose Kevin. You heard his Request first, made contact with him and, even if you did not know it at the time, you chose to be that person he needed. I understand, Morgan. I know that I am old and your mother, but I have loved before, you know.”

“I know.” Morgan rolls his eyes. He doesn't remember his mother's old mate, Erik, the father of Naida and his other older siblings, but everyone in the herd always talked about what a wonderful pair they made, how kind and loving he was, before his untimely death at the jaws of a shark. And Morgan knows his mother is happy with Joren, her current mate. He grew up with fond memories of Joren, and learned to hunt thanks to his calm and steadfast teaching manner. He doesn't know why his mother needs to remind him of this, that she's loved before. He has plenty of siblings to remind him of that fact.

“I'm talking about your father, Morgan.”

Morgan turns to look at her.

“Don't look so shocked. I'm just surprised you never ask me about him, that's all.”

“I have!”

“Not since you were a pup,” Linneth chides.

“I didn't want to bring up sad memories. I used to wonder if, looking at me, you would see—him.”

“Sometimes, maybe, in the curve of your jaw or the way that you laugh. It doesn't make me love you any less, you know. You are your own person, Morgan, not just my son or your father's son.” Linneth kicks at the water, playfully splashing Morgan.

“What was he like?”

Linneth's smile turns melancholy, and Morgan regrets the ques­tion now, even though she was the one to bring up his father. “Now
that
would be bringing up sad memories,” she says softly. “Do not worry about your Kevin feeling strange when you announce your affections; it doesn't mean he isn't enjoying your company. You are doing a wonderful job.”

“Thank you, mother.”

She stands up. “Do you have any other questions I can answer right now?”

Morgan shakes his head.

“I'm going to spend some time with the Sea. You enjoy the rest of your night, darling.” Linneth kisses Morgan softly on the forehead and walks into the surf. She transforms easily and dives into the ocean.

Morgan watches her resurface and float on her back. The moon­light glitters on the water, and his mother is a lone shadow looking toward the silhouetted land in the distance.

* * *

As natural as
it seems to tell Kevin how he feels, in the days that follow Morgan swallows back the “I love you” he wants to say. It still comes out sometimes, but he's doing a lot better, or maybe Kevin's getting used to it, because Kevin just smiles and accepts his affection, though he doesn't say anything in return.

One afternoon Morgan is sprawled across Kevin's bed with his head in Kevin's lap as he holds up flashcards for Kevin; he smells Kevin's contentment as he combs his fingers through Morgan's hair. He is about to comment on that scent, but then remembers what Naida had told him: Some of his selkie senses will carry over to his human form, including a distinct sense of smell, his swimming abilities and seeing in the dark. He must be careful of mentioning them, as humans find them strange.

Being a selkie is not always an advantage. Unused to legs instead of flippers, at first Morgan huffs and puffs behind Kevin when they hike. He gets much better, though, and now feels as secure walking on two legs as he does swimming. He's even confident walking along the shifting docks as they bob with the waves in the harbor, while holding hands with Kevin as he points out the boathouses.

They hike all over San Simeon State Park, and soon each and every trail is familiar to Morgan. From the way he eagerly shows Morgan his favorite viewpoints or pulls him over to look at his favorite informative signs, it's clear that Kevin's spent a lot of time here.

A sign about seals overlooking a view of the ocean is one of Kevin's favorites. It makes Morgan laugh. The first time they saw it, Kevin clapped his arms to his sides and wobbled around, trying to imitate a seal.

“That's not how we—they walk,” Morgan said.

Kevin didn't seem to notice his slip-up, just laughed and made a sharp barking sound. He did his best seal impression, clapping his arms together as if they were flippers, and Morgan threw his head back and laughed at the sight. “You're ridiculous.”

“They're so cute and chubby.” Kevin gestured at the illustration. “Not as cute as you, though,” he added, touching Morgan's soft cheek and then kissing him soundly on the lips. Morgan kissed back delightedly. Kevin's lips were soft and warm, and Morgan just learned a clever thing to do with his tongue that would coax a happy little noise from Kevin. It was perfect, right there on the bluffs, with the wind blowing in their hair, the cool, crisp sea air and the view of the ocean stretching out for miles.

At least until they were interrupted by a gruff voice. “You're blocking the sign, you two.”

Morgan and Kevin sprang apart and backed away. The owner of the voice was a grimy man with unkempt hair, wearing clothes splattered with fish scales and flecks of grease. His skin was dry and chapped, cheeks pink from many years in the sun. He might have been handsome once, despite the wild gray-peppered beard, but he had the look of a man who had stopped caring about his appearance long ago. “Seals,” the man muttered, stepping up to the exhibit sign and scowling at it. He spat at the ground.

“You're Jenners' and Luong's kid, aren't you?” the man asked, jerking his head at Kevin.

“Yes,” Kevin said, narrowing his eyes and stepping in front of Morgan.

“Who's this, then? Never seen you round these parts before a few weeks ago. Not a tourist, either. You've been here too long for that.”

“I'm Morgan.” He offered his hand for the man to shake, because that was what he'd learned humans did when they met. The man only stared at him unflinchingly, frowning at Morgan's face as if it offended him somehow.

“My boyfriend,” Kevin announced, taking Morgan's hand and squeezing it. “He's visiting for the summer.”

“Summer love, eh.” The man kicked a loose rock over the edge of the cliff. It bounced down the bluff to hit the water far below. “I loved someone, once. They always leave you in the end.”

“C'mon, let's go,” Kevin whispered. He tugged Morgan's hand, and they backed away from the stranger.

Touched by the man's apparent sadness, Morgan wanted to hear more, but Kevin's lips were pressed in a thin line, and he'd rolled his eyes at the story.

“Don't worry about him,” Kevin whispered. “He's just Old Man Floyd. Apparently he used to be a really good fisherman, but then his wife left or something and now he's drunk all the time and tells sad stories to anyone who will listen.”

Kevin's voice must have carried, because Floyd turned abruptly. “She didn't leave!” Floyd said, eyes glittering. “She was stolen from me! Stolen by the Sea!”

Something about the way he said it made Morgan pause. Surely the heartbroken fisherman meant the sea, the way humans referred in general to their ocean as the mundane, passive thing they thought it was, not the terrible and beautiful Sea filled with magic and mystery.

Morgan quickly forgot about the man and his ranting, though, since he was distracted by Kevin's smile, his soft, brown eyes and the way Kevin ran ahead along the trail and let Morgan chase him. Morgan thought it was a game similar to one he had played as a child with his siblings and cousins, and ran into Kevin, head butting him. It didn't work out as well on land as it did in water, and they both tumbled to the ground.

Kevin laughed, though, with dirt smudged on his cheek, and then he kissed Morgan again. He tasted of iron and salt.

There's much of the park to explore, and one memorable afternoon Kevin took him to a bridge near the Washburn camp­ground, a rickety old wooden walkway that cut through the trees above an expanse of green. They held hands as they walked along the path and stopped on the bridge to watch the wind flutter through the leaves. It was soft and quiet there, and Morgan wanted to tell Kevin about swimming through kelp forests, watching the sunlight filter through the tall stalks of seaweed. There was a lot he wanted to tell him, but Morgan settled for enjoying the moment.

And there are a lot of moments.

With Naida's help, Morgan figures out a reasonable schedule for someone living “a bit north” of Piedras Blancas, who might get dropped off in town to spend time with his boyfriend. Naida even helps him invent a story about his “human” family and not having enough money for him to have his own cell phone. When Kevin asks for his number, Morgan has this explanation ready, but doesn't get further than saying he doesn't have one; Kevin just nods and moves past the subject.

Morgan doesn't come to Kevin's house every day. He spends his nights swimming back to his family's beach, then telling anyone and everyone who will listen about his and Kevin's adventures, how amazing it all is. He sleeps in a close pile of his brothers and sisters, and wakes at dawn to swim back to Piedras Blancas. He stashes his sealskin in the cave, then walks to Kevin's house.

They usually go for a hike in the morning, either up on the cliffs or down by the shore, and then eat lunch, something Kevin puts together in his home. Morgan feels a little guilty about eating so much of his food, but when he offered to bring Kevin another food gift, Kevin laughed and said, “That fish you brought last time was amazing, but I don't think my mom will let my dad deep fry anything else for months. Don't worry about it.”