Chapter 8- The Shark
CHAPTER 8- THE SHARK
I DO NOT enjoy wearing clothing. I find garments confining, like little nets all over my appendages. When the freedom of saltwater has bathed your fins ever since you were a baby shark, every fiber of fabric is a prison. But alas, I am here at MM Institute to learn to be human, at least part-time. All humans wear clothes, so as usual, I must adapt.
Going shopping eight days ago with my beloved was wondrous, but since then we have not had much one-on-one time together. I have been so busy running tests with Skyler and Emma in both my hybrid form and shark form. No one is interested in my human form, except, perhaps, my mate. The way Karlo looked at me and my human genitalia had me both curious and aroused. These fleeting moments are the tendrils of hope that his attraction to me is growing. Perhaps my boring human form suits him. Still, I have been told by many individuals that walking around with no clothes is strictly prohibited.
So here I am, near one of the enclosed offices of MM Institute, in a private training session. Ardsley, one of the only monsters on staff, has been tasked with teaching me how to shift with clothes on. He is typing on a laptop, presumably cataloging my efforts. The lessons have had various levels of success so far, as evidenced by the tattered remains of the clothes—plaid boxers? —lying on the floor.
I kick off the latest ripped underwear and push the fabric to a far corner with my webbed feet. My tail flops about, and it feels good to stretch. I frown in frustration, knowing that I consistently rip my clothes. I need this lesson to be a success so that I can assimilate to surface world culture. Then, perhaps, Karlo Castillo will accept me.
“It’s cool, man,” Ardsley says. He approaches me and hands me a towel. “It’s just us here. ”
“Indeed.” I gaze around at what is known as an office room. “At this rate, I will I have no apparel by the morning.”
“Take your time. You’re new to all this, and skills require practice.” Ardsley smiles at me and I feel marginally better. He is a soft-spoken, taller man with brown hair. From what I can tell, he is a close friend to my beloved. I would possibly be jealous, but I know this eel shifter has a boyfriend.
“Yes, but there are so many lessons to learn.” I wrap the towel around my waist, then shift into human form, my tail slipping up into my sacral bone. I roll my neck around. “I am afraid of never being able to master the simplest of shifter techniques.”
“You are a shifter.” He hands me another set of boxer shorts. “No one can take that away from you. I read you’re an incredible shark.”
“The strongest predator of the sea.”
“And you have abilities none of us here could ever dream of. In another life, I bet you’d chomp on my eel ass.”
He laughs but my face turns serious as I slip on the shorts. “I would never harm another human.”
“But in my eel form?”
I grimace. “Perhaps…but if I sensed the presence of a shifter, I would never attempt such heinous acts. I only eat based on the food chain of the ocean.”
“Duly noted.” He nods and steps back.
I whip off the towel and toss it on a chair. Then, I concentrate on my shifting. Going from human to hybrid shark—a fin instead of hair on my head, blue skin, and my tail—is easy. I only need the clothes to come with me.
I shut my eyes and recall Ardsley’s first lessons. I need to interpret the clothes as a second skin. I cannot treat the garments as a cage, but instead, part of my personal ecosystem. I imagine my intended form, then slowly, very gradually, let my hybrid guise appear.
After a few moments of silence, I take a deep breath then look down. I pat my thighs and wiggle my tail. Not a trace of ripped underwear in sight!
“I did it!”
“Attaboy, Mr. Shaughnessy!” He pumps his fist up and claps. After a moment, he reaches into his pocket and procures his phone. Next, he’s smiling, and his cheeks get redder as he types with speed. I may be new to surface world relations, but I have no doubt he’s texting his human boyfriend.
Oh, how I wish that was me and Karlo . I am poor at reading, let alone typing, but for my beautiful mate, I would learn any skill. A curious question bubbles to the surface of my brain, so I clear my throat. “Can I ask you a…personal question, Ardsley Allan?”
“Hm?” he asks, looking up and pocketing his device .
“I was informed that your mate is human.”
“He’s my boyfriend. We don’t use the term mate.” He snickers and looks up. “Well, some non-Americans do, but it means something else.” He shakes his head, then looks at me, eyes softening with curiosity. “Why?”
I look down at my webbed toes. Shame is such a foreign concept to me, but it is a regular part of surface life, so the emotion of embarrassment has been growing these past nearly three weeks. “Do you…find it difficult? To navigate the…intricacies…of dating a human, as a shifter.”
He opens his mouth, then nods. I have no doubt he knows whom I am referring to, but I still need the answers. “Ah. Um, there have been times in my life…where it felt like my inner eel was zapping any chances I had of finding love.”
My mouth goes dry. “And?” I ask urgently.
“But I’m human, Mr. Shaughnessy.” He steps forward and taps my chest. “And so are you, at least some of the time. The Halloween Wave made us part sea creature, but it didn’t strip away our humanity.”
“But I never had it,” I reply, dolefully.
“That’s not true!” He steps back and smiles. “You’re a monster, but you have a human form, I’ve seen it. Just…focus on that.”
“But my inner shark, he—”
“The right guy will want all the parts of you, Mr. Shaughnessy.” I nod as his words quell some of my anxieties. Not only does he impart wisdom, but he is also one of Karlo’s best friends. We share a smile, and I am satisfied to know Ardsley is becoming my friend as well, a commodity I never found in the ocean.
“Speaking of something totally unrelated,” he says in what I learned is a facetious tone. He grins and beckons me to follow him. We exit the door and head for the elevators. “I know that Karlo is on dolphin rehab duty. Maybe…you and your shark powers can help him?”
“I have never been one to assist dolphins,” I reply sternly. Ardsley cringes as he hits the button and the door closes. Perhaps I should not mention my marine eating habits. “But, um…” I clear my throat and wag my tail. “It is possible my time in the ocean can…help Karlo Castillo.”
Ardsley gives me a knowing smile as the metal box descends. “I bet you can, fellow monster.”
Ten minutes later, I enter one of the saltwater pool areas. The room has an indoor pool with a high skylight that allegedly rehabilitates injured marine life, and the doors can open to the outside pools, which eventually lead to the ocean. When Skyler informed me about this on day one, I regarded it as absurd. How can any self-respecting fish grow in a several-meter-deep indoor pool? But I said nothing, because humans do what they can, and in theory, it is a noble prospect. I soak in the smell of ocean water, a scent I appreciate more after being indoors for over an hour.
But that is not what has me smiling. Karlo Castillo looks radiant as he leans down by the water. He is wearing a tight dark-blue shirt that Skyler informed me was a wetsuit, designed for humans to explore the sea in. He also has on cargo shorts, and his dark hair is wet, and as always, I resist the urge to rush up to him and kiss him senseless. He wags a dead perch fish at the pool, but nothing happens, much to his apparent dismay.
“I thought you did not eat raw fish?” I ask with a smile.
He startles and nearly falls over from his hunch. When I get closer to him, he stands up straight. “Mr. Shaughnessy! ”
“Call me RJ.” I grin, and my tail wags.
He nods and looks away. “Right. RJ. What brings you here?”
“I am almost done training for the day, but Ardsley thought I could assist you with…” I point to the water, still confused by his task.
“I’m rehabilitating an injured dolphin.”
“And you do so by offering perch fish?” I point to the silver bucket near his feet.
My mate shrugs. “It’s what Calypso likes to eat. Well, usually.” He frowns and we both turn to the water. Now that he has pointed it out, I make out the vague shape of a dolphin floating near the pool floor.
“Why are you rehabilitating her?”
“She has a scarred flipper. We suspect it’s from an oil spill, it doesn’t look like a…bite.”
He gazes at me, up and down, and I snicker. “I solemnly swear not to eat anything on premises that is not served on a tray.”
Karlo laughs, a full chuckle to the ceiling, and my heart thumps harder in my chest. I know in my soul that I want to hear that sound for the rest of my days, but I need to earn his trust first.
“You are one funny shark, RJ.” After he calms down, he looks out at the water. “But anyway, Calypso’s been acting really funny since last night. Not eating and I don’t know why.”
“Hm,” I reply. We listen to the water splashing for a few seconds more, then an idea strikes me. “What if I…ask her why she is not partaking in your offerings?”
Karlo stares at me in shock. “You can…do that?”
“I…typically only communicate with other sharks. But I ca n do my best to commune with her. Dolphins are rather smart animals after all. Would you like me to?”
Karlo pulls at his shirt uncomfortably. “I don’t want to trouble you.”
“I am a shifter. And I work here now.” I walk closer to the pool’s edge. Then I turn back and shrug. “I’d like to help out how I can.”
And I would do anything for you, my love. I would move glaciers if it meant making you happy. You are everything to me, Karlo Castillo.
“Then, um, yeah. If you don’t mind,” he says in a half-whisper.
With a splash, I am back in the water, shifting into my shark form with ease. This pool is unnatural, but at least the water resembles my ocean. When I swim down, the dolphin barely acknowledges my existence. I fight back my predatory instincts; yes, this dolphin could be an easy meal, but not this time. I must accomplish my mission, all for my beloved.
Using animal-speak, I politely but firmly ask the dolphin some questions. I inquire about its appetite, meal choices, and its overall emotional state. It seems reluctant to answer, and I try to make it clear that I am not here to harm it. After hesitating, it replies to my questions in broken thoughts, but I am mostly able to interpret what it is saying. Promise fulfilled.
I pop back out of the water five minutes later and lean on the pool ledge.
“She misses her school,” I say, wiping water off my face.
“Pardon?”
“Her friends. It…it was not clear.” I gulp and look away. “Because I am not used to communicating with her species, but…she wishes she was back out there. ”
“Aw, man.” Karlo reaches out and, even though I want to spend more time splashing in the water, I let him pull me up. I would do anything to feel the skin of his hand on mine. “That sucks.”
“Indeed.”
“She can’t go back out there, not yet. She’s not strong enough. She’ll be easy pickings for…well…” He motions toward me, and I eye him curiously. “But depression does explain a lot.”
“Yes. That is likely why she is not eating.” Karlo frowns at my words and stares at the water. I am touched; while my experience with surface dwellers is minimal, I know not many of them care about marine life on a personal level. Karlo seems to really be empathetic to this injured dolphin. I need to make my mate feel better.
I glance at the metal bucket near his feet. “Have you tried feeding her squid?”
“Huh?” He looks at me, and I resist the urge to pull him into a kiss.
“Yes. I asked what she wants to eat, and she claims she has no interest in perch.”
Karlo eyes the bucket, then looks at me inquisitively. “I didn’t try a dietary change. We don’t have a lot of squid stock.”
“I could get it for you!” I reply quickly.
He snickers. “No, thanks. I’ll just ask Emma to put in a work order.” He hoists up the bucket, then smiles at me. “But, uh…thanks, RJ.”
He holds out his fist, and my heart wants to burst with affection. I lightly tap it, like I saw on a television program once, and he smiles again. “You’re…very helpful,” he says.
Anything for you my beloved . “Anytime,” I reply.
With that, we leave, and I bite back the bubbling sensation of joy in my chest. Karlo likes me, respects me as a colleague on some level. That is a start.