Chapter 15 #2
Life on land seemed very complicated compared to what I knew from the sea, but I thought maybe we could learn together.
There wasn’t as much food in the sound during winter, but I thought, if I worked hard, I could collect enough to provide for Sadira.
For now, though, I was more concerned about the fact that she was shaking again.
“Come. You are cold again,” I said, trailing the pads of my fingers down her pebbled skin.
“I will not be going back to the sea, except to visit, so let’s get you warm.
” My shoal was at the winter waters, and I had spent a hungry month here by myself—although Sir Chunk kept me some company, of course—because I couldn’t bear to leave the place where Sadira visited me.
I had never actually expected her to return to me early, but I thanked the deep abyss now for my compulsion to stay behind.
She helped me to my new feet, which I had even less practice standing on than I did with the change.
Standing on them was painful, and I shook greatly because my muscles were not used to such an action yet.
Each step felt like I was walking on knives, and I suspected this was because my bones had not quite had time to adjust yet, but it would lessen eventually, I hoped.
Even with my legs being so much shorter than my tail, I still stood a head taller than my new mate as she took my arm to help me balance.
So I was right, then; she truly was quite small even for a landwalker.
Hopefully, I would still be large enough to protect her in this form.
I attempted to take a step forward and stumbled, but caught myself on the next, trying to focus through the stabbing ache in the bones of my feet.
But then Sadira’s face lit up with a proud smile for me, and I thought I could never be a happier male.
She helped me to place my hand on the ledge of rock above us for balance, so that she could retrieve her clothing, shaking the sand out of the dress she had worn before and donning it, and then placing a larger clothing she called her “cloak” over my shoulders.
I was not cold, but she said I couldn’t walk around unclothed, for some reason.
She placed my arm over her back and we both shook with the exertion of moving my heavy form up the path through the large trees.
Supporting my weight outside of the water was strange and difficult.
It was full dark now, but my eyes were made for this and she seemed to know the paths well enough without much light.
Eventually, we made it to a square-ish wooden structure similar to the ones visible from the harbor that the dockworkers called shanties, but this one was much larger and more imposing.
The windows revealed a darkened interior that triggered all my instincts telling me to check it for predators before entering.
Even when we used a certain cave or overhang for shelter often, we still had to chase out sharks and other predators that would move in as soon as we vacated the space.
My hands twitched at the lack of input I could gather from the air using the electrical receptors in my palms and fingers.
But there were no sharks here, I reminded myself, and Sadira seemed comfortable with where she was going, so I listened closely to our surroundings and trusted that she knew what she was doing.
“It’s locked up for the season, but there’s a window here in the back I can wiggle open if I work on it,” she told me in a hushed whisper.
“We won’t stay here for long, but no one will notice us for a few days, and you can borrow some of my father’s extra clothing until we can buy you your own. We’re almost there.”
The house was an endlessly fascinating collection of strange items that also served as shelter.
It was brilliant. But confusing. It served to (metaphorically) transport us back to our early years together, as Sadira followed me about her home, patiently explaining the countless array of objects I wanted to know about.
There were so many! And I didn’t understand why there were so many things that only served one very specific purpose.
There were knives for spreading butter, knives for cutting meat at a table, knives for cutting meat in a kitchen, bread knives, chef’s knives, oyster knives…
plates for salad, plates for dinner, plates for bread, plates for serving, plates for dessert, and even teeny tiny plates that fit perfectly under a cup meant specifically for tea, and tea alone.
Those were my favorite. I didn’t understand it, but I did like it.
I didn’t even care for tea—Sadira had made me taste it with what she called “a proper amount of sugar”—and I had found the liquid revolting, but I was so enamored with the dainty little cups and saucers that Sadira promised to buy me a set when we moved into our own rental.
A wooden structure just for ourselves! That we could put our favorite things in, just like our box in the sand!
But it became clear after several days of exploring all the trinkets in the dwelling (and exploring each other just as much) that my new bond to Sadira would not allow me to be away from her for long at all.
It was normal for my people to stay together constantly when newly bonded, barely even leaving their chosen nesting site to hunt.
Having Sadira leave my sight for even a few minutes was difficult, because my anxiety would spike and my heart would race and I would fear that I couldn’t protect her even if she was only in a different room.
For merpeople, this is not a problem, because both parties are at least temporarily bonded to each other and both feel this way.
So I was very lucky that Sadira was patient with me and understood my physical reaction to her being away from me wasn’t purposeful.
I didn’t want to smother my new mate. It was an uncomfortable reaction for me too, after having been somewhat comfortable alone for the time that my shoal was away.
“I like being with you, too,” was all she said when I brought it up.
But she needed to leave the house to find somewhere else for us to live, and it had been a torturous several hours while she was gone.
I would have gone with her, but her father’s clothes hung oddly on my frame, and it was so painful for me to walk that it would have taken her forever to complete her tasks.
But she was beaming when she returned, carrying bags made of paper and a large contraption.
“I found a house!” she said as she came up the steps of the front porch.
I backed out of the door to make room for her, and pain lanced up my legs with each step. I’d managed to make it to the front room so I could watch through the windows for her return.
She set her packages down along with the contraption and braced herself under my arm to walk me to a seat.
“It’s one of the little shacks down by the docks, so it’s incredibly small, but it’s so close to the water for you and I can afford the rent for quite a while until we find work.
And I brought you some things from the shops!
” She held up her bags and pulled out some clothing that she said would fit me.
“I’ll have to help you with the buttons until you get used to them,” she muttered as she held up a shirt to my torso.
“These trousers are great though. You’ll look so attractive in them,” she said with a sly look and a slight tint to her cheeks.
I didn’t relish the thought of being encased in many layers of fabric, but if she thought they would make me look attractive… then I could wear them. For her.
“Thank you,” I told her sincerely, taking the pieces as she passed them to me and feeling the fabric between my fingers. It was surprisingly smooth.
“That’s not even the best part!” she said, excitement coloring her tone.
“I went to the medical supply store and rented a wheelchair for you!” She retrieved the contraption and began unfolding it, and within seconds it folded out into a chair with round wheels attached to the bottom.
“Come sit,” she beckoned, patting the woven reeds that made up the base of the seat.
I stood carefully and moved toward the seat, wincing at the ache in my feet and wondering if the creaking sound as I lowered myself into it was a complaint from the woven reeds or my bones.
“See?” Sadira asked, standing behind me. “Now I can push you like this,” she demonstrated, wheeling the chair forward a little before returning it to its place, “or you can push yourself using your hands on the wheels!” She showed me how to do so.
I did see. “This is brilliant,” I told her, marveling at the contraption.
I’d never stopped to think about how landwalkers who cannot walk manage to get around before, because it’s easy enough for us to float something in the water if it cannot move itself.
But this was so clever and thoughtful that all I could do was sit and marvel at it.
“Thank you,” I told her, touched to my core.
“Now you can stay with me while I run errands,” she told me happily, and I knew then that she truly wasn’t bothered by my uncharacteristic possessiveness these last few days. It made me feel understood, and more than that, loved.