Fathom (22 page)

“It’s not true, is it?” I asked them.

They both looked away, like they were ashamed.

“But she’s the one who tried to kill me, Gram,” I argued. “The other night in the cave, she tried to drown me—”

“I
turned
you,” Riley said, venom in her voice. “I knew you wouldn’t die. I didn’t want you to go through—”

“That’s enough,” Gram said. “Both of you. We have things to discuss, but this isn’t the place or the time. Your Uncle Bill and Uncle Charlie just went in to see your father.” Her gaze traveled from me to Riley and then back again. “The three of us will go in next and tell him the good news. And I’ll do the talking, understand?”

“Gram, Dad just had a heart attack.” I was unsuccessfully trying to keep the whine out of my voice. “Are you sure this is the right time to tell him—”

“I said that’s enough, young lady. Not another word.”

I crossed my arms and glared at everyone. Nobody was on my side. I could tell that all my cousins had been trying to listen in and now they whispered among themselves.

I pulled away from my family, suddenly noticing that every one of them was dark haired and wild. My older cousin, Dave, with his DUI and missing teeth; my younger cousin, Jill, with the baby she bounced on her hip; my uncle Charlie, who always borrowed money from Dad to keep his souvenir shop afloat; and my uncle Bill, who always charmed older women into taking care of him. Even my favorite cousin, Celia, was a high school dropout with dreams of someday becoming a make-up artist on monster movies. We were all misfits, in one way or another. Even Gram with her paranormal society and Dad with his dead Selkie wife.

And yet, somehow, even in this crowd of eccentrics, I still felt like I was the outsider.

Kira:

The sun had set. I could feel it. And when it did, an unnatural chill had crept into the hospital. Like a river, it swept through every corridor, it drowned every one of us. Made us numb and cold and stiff. We weren’t talking to one another—that’s hard to do once you’ve drowned.

When the tsunami comes, you may as well give in.

Let it carry you out to the ocean deep.

Learn to dwell with the scavengers on the floor, learn to swim with the current.

I was trying, I really was. For Dad. I didn’t want to drag him under again, didn’t want his heart to betray him and stop. So I did what Gram wanted. I walked back into Dad’s hospital room, kept quiet while I stood beside that monster who looked a little bit like me, the one who kept pretending to be my dead sister.

At first I thought he wasn’t going to wake up and that was perfect. If he didn’t wake up, then he wouldn’t see Riley, and I could keep pretending that this was all some kind of hallucination. I started counting the beeps his machines were making, then imagined that one of the nurses had come in and told us that visiting hours were over. And all the while, I refused to look at Riley.

That beast.

Even with my face turned forward, I could see how her body had tensed up, how she had inched closer to his bed until she stood right beside him. She was going to be the first thing he saw.

Then he woke up.

He took a deep breath, his eyes fluttered and he mumbled something that I couldn’t hear. Gram stepped forward, took his hand and started telling him. I had to give her credit, she did a good job. The whole thing sounded almost believable when she said it out loud, when she included all the Selkie bits and pieces that no one had ever told me before.

His brow creased, as if he was confused at first.

Meanwhile both Gram and I kept watching all of his monitors, making sure everything stayed the same.

Then she told him who the monster-who-looked-like-a-girl was.

His pulse rate accelerated, his heartbeat sped up. I gripped the side rails on his bed, just about ready to scream for one of the doctors. But then everything settled down. He saw her. My monster sister.

He hugged her. Both of them cried. Correct that, all three of them cried.

I watched.

They all rejoiced as if they had just killed the fatted lamb. Look, the prodigal daughter has finally come home. I stood there for a few minutes, feeling as left out as I always did at high school.

Then I turned and walked out of the room.

•

The moon swung like a pendulum through the trees on the drive home. I wasn’t talking. To anyone. My mouth had been sewn shut. From the moment my dad became her dad, I hadn’t wanted to say another word. Ever.

Sean walked me to my door, but it’s hard to have a conversation with a statue.

He tried, but all he said was stuff like, you’ve always wondered what had happened and where your sister was.

But I still didn’t know what had happened. And today I lost my sister all over again. That thing called Riley was not my Katie.

Back when Gram had said goodbye to Riley at the hospital, my sister’s eyes had glistened, but not with tears, it was as if I had seen a hidden ocean—waves tossing, sailors drowning—and all the while she had grinned.

Had that been my imagination? Or had I truly seen something dark and deadly in her eyes, something she wanted to keep secret but couldn’t?

The porch creaked beside me as Sean shifted his weight. “Are you going to school tomorrow?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

I shook my head.

“You want some company?”

I shrugged, which in code meant, heck, yeah.

He nodded. “I’ll come over at about nine, okay?”

“Whatever.”

He grinned.

“What?” I asked.

“You finally talked.”

“You’re lame.”

“No, you are.”

“Shut up.”

His grin broadened and he started to laugh.

I sighed. “You must be brain dead. I called you lame and told you to shut up and you just laugh.”

His gaze softened and he coiled a strand of my hair around his finger. “That’s because I’d rather have you mad than quiet.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

“No, why don’t you try to remember this instead.”

He cupped his other hand along the side of my face, then he leaned in until his body pressed against mine and my back rested against the porch railing. His lips met mine, soft at first, then they were filled with wild-dance-all-night-long-music and for a moment, I couldn’t tell where his body ended and mine began. I drank in his scent, felt my pulse thrumming in time with his. Then I became dangerously aware of every inch of his skin against mine.

That was when he pulled away, when he whispered in a deep voice.

“Good night, Kira.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I managed to say. One kiss? One wild keep-me-up-all-night kiss and he was leaving?

But he was already at the edge of the porch. “See you tomorrow.”

I sighed. I hated to admit it, but he was right.

He had definitely given me something to remember.

Kira:

It was a dream and it was my life, all rolled up into one. Ocean currents filled my room, gave me goose bumps, made me curl beneath my blankets. They forced me awake, but in reality I was still dreaming. My window hung open and our house now sat on the bottom of the sea. I felt like Dorothy in
The Wizard of Oz
, except I was watching manta rays and sea urchins swim past. I opened my front door and walked outside, leaving Kansas and my black-and-white world behind.

Every color sang: blues were bluer, greens more green and reds so vibrant you could almost taste them. I slipped across the threshold, no longer walking, mesmerized by the beauty of it all. My house sat on a street alongside other homes, although they were fashioned from coral and abalone; they glistened and shimmered with each current of light that passed by.

And there, in the distance I heard a familiar sound.

Weeping.

Someone was crying, and the sound caused me to almost double over in pain. The beauty around me grew pale and insignificant next to this wail that swept down our curved street. I found myself swimming toward it, but along the way I noticed that everyone else was swimming in the opposite direction, an expression of fear on their faces.

I wanted to ask them why they didn’t care. What was wrong with them?

Meanwhile, they acted like there was something wrong with me.

“Don’t go that way,” a young Selkie mother warned as she grabbed her little boy and swam past me.

Whatever it was, whoever it was, I couldn’t stop myself. I had to see who was weeping and, if possible, I had to help. The water thickened until it was no longer transparent, it was now muddy and dark and I found myself choking. Still I couldn’t stop.

The cries began to sound familiar.

I now swam alongside the shadow of a rocky mountain range, mammoth walls looming all around me until they formed a narrow, twisted corridor. The only light came from my own pale blue eyes, their glow illuminating my path like a pair of tiny headlights. I rounded a corner and saw a massive cave, iron bars across the entrance. Someone stood inside, hands wrapped around the bars, weeping and crying for help.

“Let me out, please!”

All the eels and swordfish and prawns fled until I was the only one brave enough to approach the cave. Up ahead, a slender figure—about my height and build—leaned against the bars, her features still cast in shadow.

She stretched her hands between the bars, revealing thick shackles on her wrists. Long dark hair floated around her face like a cloud. Then the current shifted and I saw her face for the first time. I stopped. Suddenly afraid to approach.

It was my mother.

But there was something about her, something horrible. I couldn’t see it in her eyes or her posture, yet I knew it instantly. I started to back away from her, then I realized that I was inside the cave, behind the bars.

I was trapped in the prison with her.

But it wasn’t my mother. It was a monster. And now I couldn’t get away.

•

I woke up, my room filled with darkness, and wondered whether I was truly awake or if this was still part of the nightmare. Outside a storm raged, cold wind rattling the windows, thunder booming in the near distance, flashes of lightning creating bright spider webs across the night sky. I took a hesitant breath, tried to figure out whether I was under water or in the real world. It took me a full minute to realize that I was truly awake.

I sat up, slid my legs over the edge of my bed, pulled an afghan over my shoulders.

Somewhere in the house a window hung open. Cold air swept down the hallway, pooled in my room and made me tremble. I had to find the window and close it.

I stood up, still surrounded by darkness, wondering if my Selkie eyes would begin to shine. I took a step forward, but my foot struck something unexpected and I stumbled, almost lost my balance. I stepped backward, turned on my bedside lamp, then blinked when yellow light temporarily blinded me.

I stared at the floor, stunned.

My bed was surrounded by fresh hawthorn boughs.

But Dad was in the hospital and Gram was asleep. Besides, Gram wasn’t strong enough to cut down this much wood by herself. Even I would have had a hard time cutting down this much.

I stared at the barrier, a full foot tall, suddenly afraid. Who was trying to protect me and what were they trying to protect me from? As far as Selkies went, I didn’t think they got much worse than my sister. Besides, the Selkies I’d met didn’t like hawthorn, but it didn’t make them stay away. Caleb had no problem standing next to me when I wore my cross.

My hand instinctively flew to my throat, I ran my fingers over Gram’s necklace that hung there. I felt comforted, knowing it was safe.

Then I heard it. Just like in my dream.

Someone nearby was weeping and the sound was enough to break my heart. And just like in my dream, I had to find out who it was.

•

Step by step, I moved into the hallway, bits of my nightmare still making me jumpy. This all felt like some eerie déjà vu experience, like it had all happened before. The house wore shades of gray and black, meanwhile outside, thunder continued to rock against the windows, each echoing wave so loud it made me stop and hold still.

Waiting for the silence.

And for the sound of someone crying.

I paused in front of my door, staring down the hallway. The door to my father’s room stood open and the sound was coming from there. It had to be Gram. She must not have been able to sleep, just like me, and now she was in his bedroom, maybe remembering him as a boy.

Part of me knew that I should go back to bed.

The other part knew that it wasn’t Gram crying in Dad’s room.

I continued to move forward, one step at a time, wincing whenever an old floor board would creak beneath me. She wasn’t dead, I kept telling myself, thinking about my mother and the dream I’d just had. If my sister wasn’t dead, then my mother probably wasn’t dead either.

But if she wasn’t dead, then why hadn’t she come back to us, like Riley had?

Why had she only come back once in the middle of the night, when I was twelve years old? And why wouldn’t Gram or anyone else tell me what had really happened the day my mother and Riley disappeared?

Maybe my mother had tried to kill Riley after all. And maybe she was in my father’s room, right now, waiting for me, waiting to drag me down into the ocean where she would lock me up in a cave.

The clouds parted then, the storm began to roll past, and a sliver of moonlight washed in one of the windows. A beam of pale light glistened on the floor in front of me.

Revealing watery footprints.

The crying stopped. I froze. Ran a finger along the chain on my necklace, made sure that the wooden Celtic cross was still there.

“Kira?”

A soft familiar voice called out to me from my father’s room.

A shiver wound its way around my body, like a sea snake.

You’re not supposed to answer the dead when they call you, especially not when they call you by name.