7. Chapter 7 #3
“Daren, listen, maybe—” But as Curtis moved closer to put a hand on Daren’s shoulder, the book slipped out of his other hand right back to the floor. “Damn it. Hang on.”
“I got it,” Daren interjected before Curtis could crouch.
“It’s my fault it fell the first time.” He bent to retrieve the little storybook with the figure of the woman and seal on it.
It was a curious cover, a curious set of imagery, and even with Daren’s vision blurred by wetness, he found himself drawn to the haunted expression on the woman's face.
Her expression oddly echoed that of the seal.
“What is this book?”
“Hm?” Curtis leaned closer to better inspect it. “Oh, that one. You know the old selkie legends, right?”
“Selkie?” Daren tried to recall the familiarity of such stories. “Like… mermaids and sirens who drown people?”
“This is one of the friendlier tales.” Curtis chuckled.
“You know, sea creature falls in love with a human and peels off their fish skin to grow legs. They give their skin to the one they love, and it’s a sign that they’re choosing them over the sea.
Most stories have the selkie go back to the water at some point, ’cause they miss it or the person isn’t really someone they loved, but some asshole who stole their skin to begin with.
It depends. Some have happy endings though.
” Curtis tried to take the book, but Daren couldn’t let it go.
Skin. That’s what was so jarring about the image, because it wasn’t only the same expression on the seal and the woman, but the pattern on the seal’s skin was identical to the woman’s cloak…
Her coat.
“I am such an idiot.”
“What? What did—”
Daren shoved the book into Curtis’s arms, used the momentum to spin Curtis around, giving himself a way out of the aisle finally, and dashed for the door.
“Daren!”
“I need to go!”
“Your groceries!”
“I’ll get them later!” Daren was already out the door before he had finished his final shout, vaguely believing he might have heard Bradley call after him too, but he didn’t have time to care.
He did know those legends. He had heard similar stories his entire childhood, both as Celtic folktales from his father and various sea creature myths from his native heritage. Yes, some were warnings to not fall for a fantasy, but some ended well. Some ended happy.
If only the idiot hero didn’t screw everything up first.
“Lilo!” Daren cried, once he had entered their private estuary.
It had taken him far too long to reach his boat and get it safely out on the water. It was windy today, and when he arrived, he found their special place still devoid of other boats, but also devoid of any sign of tentacles.
“Lilo!” he cried again, searching the surface for any signs of splashing, any signs at all of Lilo’s dark hair or periwinkle skin. Continuing to call for Lilo, Daren stayed until sunset, when he could no longer justify remaining there.
He had missed his chance.
Unless he really wanted to try his luck at scuba diving.
But no. No…
Lilo might not even be there anymore. He loved Daren and had been willing to give up the ocean for him, but Daren hadn’t understood.
Daren didn’t go back to the water the next day, but he had to after that. He had to make his living, even if the water itself was a painful reminder of what he’d lost.
He didn’t return to the estuary or anywhere near the rocky cliff with the hidden hot spring inside. It was busier out in the open waters but easier to stomach pulling in fish without the sweetly smiling helper he’d had for so many months.
If he’d thought himself numb going about his routine each day before meeting Lilo, he’d had no idea what true numbness felt like.
Ten days had passed since he had last seen Lilo.
While poking around Curtis’s shop, not really needing anything or sure why he was there, Daren’s feet eventually found their way over to where Curtis had shelved the selkie books.
Or rather, where Daren had before he realized what they were.
Curtis had tried to talk to Daren about what happened a few times, Bradley too, but he had politely declined to comment.
He must have looked pretty miserable when he did, because neither of them had pushed him on it, other than to say:
“We’re here if you need to talk.”
Appreciated, but not likely.
Not about Lilo.
Daren picked up one of the copies of the book to page through it. The story it contained pained him to relive, but he thought he might buy it anyway as a reminder, a memento of something truly magical that he had let slip through his fingers.
“Hello, brother! I,” a strangely familiar voice said from behind Daren, placing much emphasis on the pronoun, and continued stilted and slow as if choosing each word carefully, “am looking for Daren.”
Daren’s head snapped up.
“Daren Montgomery?” Curtis asked. “Uh, he’s right over there.”
Slowly, not yet believing the voice belonged to who it sounded like—since it once would have been two-toned, both higher and lower pitched, like it was always echoing, but was now a normal, human place between—Daren turned.
He had never seen anything so beautiful.
It was Lilo.