Seven Tears at High Tide (11 page)

Kevin smiles proudly to himself and crawls in after Morgan. The bed has been transformed into a cozy space, illuminated by dozens of little lights, with blankets hanging around them like soft curtains. “I'm going to get my laptop and we can watch a movie or something.”

Morgan grabs his hand before he can leave. “Wait.” He pulls Kevin close for a kiss. It's soft and sweet, and Morgan is smiling against his lips.

It's perfect, and Kevin wants to live inside this moment forever.

Ten.

Kevin is extra
excited today when he answers the door. His mood is infectious, and Morgan immediately grins back at him. He moves to step into the house, but Kevin races past him, grabbing his hand.

“I thought you wanted to show me the saga of Mr. Indiana Jones and his three quests today,” Morgan says, as Kevin pulls him outside his house and shuts his front door behind them.

“Change of plans. Ann decided last minute to go to San Francisco with her friends, and they picked her up, so the car is all mine for the entire weekend!” Kevin dangles a set of keys, which glint in the morning light.

“Okay.” Morgan follows Kevin to the car. He's gotten over his initial awe at human ingenuity. It's almost the equivalent of swimming in a faster current, letting it take you farther than you can go with your own fins.

“I want to show you around! We can drive down to SLO—”

“Slow?” Morgan scrunches up his face. “I thought the last time you were telling me about cars it was about what a great driver you are, how fast you could go—”

Kevin laughs as they get into the vehicle. “No, sorry, I meant S, L, O, for San Luis Obispo. It's a much bigger city than Piedras Blancas, with lots of people and stores and buildings. I figure we've seen everything in town and San Simeon, too. Cambria is bigger, but I figure we could just go for it. Morro Bay's really pretty and we could definitely stop there, too, but you've seen lots of bays and rocks, huh?”

The car roars to life, like a beast awakening from its slumber, and Kevin taps the pink stuffed creature that hangs from the rearview mirror. “I'm sure wherever you want to take me will be excellent,” Morgan says.

Kevin grins at him, takes his hand and squeezes it.

“This is the
Pacific Coast Highway!” Kevin shouts joyfully into the wind. “And you know the Pacific, of course!” Kevin gestures wildly out the window at the water.

Morgan grins at the human name for this part of the ocean. It still amuses him how they separate themselves with borders and names for all their lands and waters, and he tells Kevin as much. He laughs and agrees, and says the world is a complicated, complicated thing.

They drive down the Pacific Coast Highway with the wind blowing through the open windows. From here on the cliffs, the ocean glitters, stretching blue and vast out into forever. Kevin's iPod is hooked up and the display reads: “Morgan's Playlist.” Morgan leans back in the seat, wondering when Kevin collected all his favorite songs. Bobby Darin is singing as the car follows the winding road down the coast, and Morgan thinks lazily,
what a wonderful way to travel
.

Looking out the window, Morgan's home looks almost flat—a singular blue color, nothing but a surface. If he squints, he can make out specks that are surfers waiting for a wave, and in the distance a few ships. They look so small from here, so insignificant, compared to the way those monstrous vessels loom over the herd whenever they travel past.

Kevin is proud of his driving. He takes special care to let a faster car overtake them and then cut in front of them. “My dad was really particular about teaching me good driving manners.”

Morgan isn't sure what the distinction between regular etiquette and driving etiquette is, but Kevin seems to be doing well operat­ing a vehicle, so he nods.

San Luis Obispo is indeed much busier than Piedras Blancas or its neighbor to the south, San Simeon. The streets are filled with cars and shining buildings, and people walk everywhere. Kevin drives them to a crowded lot filled with even more cars of every shape and color, and he scowls in frustration, driving around and around the area, until finally he calls out in triumph and pulls the car to rest amongst all its brethren.

“What is this place?”

“Are you ready for this?” Kevin says. “This is a
mall.
” He throws his arms out theatrically, and Morgan's eyes widen. They walk into the large building, which is teeming with people and color and sounds. Morgan knows what a store is; he's seen them in Piedras Blancas, and he knows the places to purchase foods are restaurants, but there are so many here, selling so many different things.

“It's a lot, isn't it?” Kevin grins at Morgan's stunned reaction. “Hey, I've been saving my allowance—I want to get you some new clothes. Come on.”

Kevin leads him into a bright store filled with many adornments that the humans wear—different fabrics and colors and shapes and sizes. He goes through the racks until his arms are full of clothes, then pushes Morgan toward the small rooms at the back.

Morgan hesitates, touching the worn sweatshirt of Kevin's. He knows it's not his actual skin, but he's come to love wearing it. It's soft and comfortable and it was Kevin's, and he gave it to him. His shorts he doesn't have any feelings toward—they're just to cover his body. Morgan still doesn't understand the human need for so many different layers, but he can respect the desire to appear different, to stand out.

“Hey, I'm not asking you to get rid of the sweater,” Kevin says softly, stepping into the changing room with him.

It's a little cramped for two people, and Morgan stares at his reflection and Kevin's as Kevin slings his arms around him. “You always wear the same things, and I know we've washed them a few times, but I thought you might want to try something new and change things up.”

Morgan smiles at him in relief. “Okay.” He shrugs out of the sweater, folds it carefully and places it on the bench.

Kevin hands him shirt after shirt, laughs as Morgan changes, scrutinizes his reflection in the mirror. Morgan looks garish and washed out in bright colors, too somber in darks. They go through several piles of clothes.

“You look good,” Kevin says, turning Morgan to the mirror. He's wearing a soft, sand-colored jacket, a muted green long-sleeved shirt and dark blue jeans, similar to the ones Kevin is wearing.

“I look human.”

Kevin shrugs. “You look like you. Do you like the clothes?”

“I don't have any—” Morgan starts, realizing that Kevin always paid for their food when they went out. It hasn't felt strange until now, because Morgan always brought Kevin gifts as well—fish he had caught, or shiny rocks and baubles he found on the ocean floor. He realizes now, surrounded by all the things humans make for themselves, the intricate way they trade with one another for goods, that he doesn't quite fit in. He doesn't know how
he
would fit in. He's only here because he's with Kevin, fulfilling his Request for someone to spend time with. And Morgan loves Kevin, loves everything about him.

But Morgan doesn't have anything to offer other than his com­pany. He's seen other human couples, walking hand in hand, making lives together. Kevin's parents have jobs they work at, teaching other people about the world, contributing to society, making money to pay for the home they share. And they have their children. They have Kevin.

How could Morgan even begin to do any of that? Sure, he's learned by leaps and bounds this summer how the human world works, but soon Kevin will be going back to school, and there are things he wants to do such as go to college and study geology. Where does Morgan fit into any of his plans?

“It's a present, dude,” Kevin says, pulling Morgan out of his thoughts. He kisses him warmly on the cheek. “When's your birthday? We'll say it's for your birthday.”

“On the next new moon I will be seventeen.” Morgan starts to undress. There's something specific about this particular moon, something his mother told him was important, but he doesn't remember, not when Kevin's face is lighting up and grinning.

“When is that?”

“Ten days,” Morgan says, thinking about the bright quarter moon that has followed him the last few nights as he swam back to the beach.

“Oh, so you
are
older than me. That's what I thought. You're turn­ing seventeen! That's so exciting.” Kevin's eyes sparkle as he hugs Morgan around the waist. “I don't know if your family does any­thing for birthdays? Do you have, like, a fish party on the beach?”

Morgan shakes his head and hands Kevin the jacket, shirt and jeans he's taken off. Right after he told him about being a selkie, Kevin was full of questions.
Where does your family live? Can you all turn into people? How come you're the only one allowed in town? What do your brothers and sisters do for fun? You said your dad is human; where is he?

After Kevin realized his line of questions made Morgan uncom­fortable, Kevin never brought up the subject of Morgan's family. Morgan hadn't known how to answer the questions about his father—he's never known him outside the stories, and he has no idea where he might be. He could tell Kevin was curious, though, and wanted to learn more.

“We don't have fish parties,” Morgan says. “I don't actually know what you mean by that, but we do stay up all night and sing when a pup turns seventeen. It means you aren't a child anymore, but an adult, part of the herd proper, able to sit in on Council meetings and offer input on where to go and which Requests to fill. We keep track of age from year to year, but there aren't large gatherings like in the photos you've shown me of your celebrations when you were younger.”

“Ooh, you're going to sing all night, that sounds amazing. I'd love to be there and hear all of you.”

Morgan hesitates. No one has ever brought a human to any of their secret hiding places.

Kevin's face suddenly falls. “Ah, you said at night, huh. My parents are pretty open-minded, maybe a little too open-minded. If I ask if I can stay overnight at your place or something, it'll make them think we're doing something else.”

“Like what?”

Kevin turns bright red, blinking, glancing quickly at Morgan's bare skin. He grabs the old sweatshirt and Morgan's shorts and pushes them at him, looking into the corner of the small dressing room. “Uh, I ah, it's not important. Anyway, I don't think they'd let me stay over, not unless they've met your parents or we've been dating a lot longer and uh yeah…” He stares under the door at a pair of feet walking by; the ripe scent of embarrassment lingers in the air. “Your birthday! That's awesome, I want to do something to celebrate! So like… this will be part of your present, but I have another idea and it will be a surprise, okay?”

Morgan gets dressed quickly, amused at how Kevin is rambling on about Morgan's birthday. He doesn't know why the amount of visible skin affects Kevin this way, but it's fun to watch his skin flush and his eyelids flutter.

Kevin leads them to the counter and pays for Morgan's new clothes, and they leave the store. Kevin's so excited that Morgan doesn't have the heart to say he can't take the clothes with him—where would he put them, if he swam with them to the hid­den beach where his family stays? He could hide them in the same cove where he hides his pelt, but these are brand new clothes, gifts from Kevin. Morgan can't imagine leaving them in the cove, letting the briny salt water rush in at high tide and ruin them.

Kevin is saying something.

“What?” Morgan replies.

“Are you okay, Morgan? It's the mall; I thought you'd like it.”

“No, it's fine, I just—can I keep the new clothes at your house? Could you keep them for me?”

Kevin blinks. “Of course—I can't believe I—I'm sorry, I didn't realize you wouldn't be able to take them with you. I just wanted to get you something—”

“No, it's fine. I like them a lot, thank you.” Morgan takes Kevin's hand and squeezes it affectionately. “I can wear them when I'm here.”

“Okay. Um—I was saying this shop sells fried cheese on a stick. Do you want to try?”

Morgan laughs. “Yeah, definitely, you know I love fried foods.”

Hot dogs and cheeses are dipped in batter and deep fried in front of them. Morgan watches as the oil bubbles; the scent of hot batter wafts in the air. The cheese oozes, hot and melting inside its doughy container, when Morgan bites into it, and the fact that it's already on a stick is hilarious but amazing.

Kevin holds Morgan's hand as they leave the mall, and the whole trip and the lovely experience should be nothing but relaxing and satisfying, and it is, right up until they pass a clothing store decked with gaudy signs that read “END OF SUMMER SALE.”

Morgan shudders, and he can't help the nervous feeling that runs through him, knowing that by summer's end the Request will be complete.

Eleven.

The summer days
are a flurry of activity: holding hands as they hike the trails, Morgan attempting to teach Kevin diving and swimming techniques, fooling around in the water, playing in the surf. But the best moments are small and intimate: the warm, open smiles that light up like the sunsets they watch, or the way their hands find each other, fingers curling together.

Afternoons are spent lounging in Kevin's bedroom until the light filtering through the west-facing window turns from gold to crimson and then fades into twilight. They cuddle, hands finding each other, fingers laced together, or with Morgan curling up in Kevin's lap, using his thigh as a pillow. They lose time kissing each other slowly. Kevin delights in how novel it seems to be for Morgan, teaching him to use his tongue, coaxing the prettiest sounds from him as they touch.

Morgan seems content with this and doesn't bring up sex at all, doesn't seem disappointed when Kevin pulls away before things get too heated. Kevin should probably check in with Morgan, but considering he turned as red as a tomato the first time Kevin suggested he
open
his mouth during a kiss, it's probably safe to assume they're all right on that front.

Kevin figures if Morgan wants to have sex, he'll bring it up. He seems perfectly fine with how things are progressing. And as long as Morgan's happy, Kevin's happy.

They hike all over San Simeon State Park during the next few weeks, holding hands, becoming such regulars that Jenny, the ranger by the front entrance, waves happily every time Ann's little car rumbles into the dusty lot with the two of them grinning at each other in the front seats. Kevin smiles fondly as Morgan gasps at the view from San Simeon Point, at the vastness of the ocean, at how the shore stretches on for miles. Morgan drags Kevin out into the ocean without his surfboard or his wetsuit, lets the waves barrel him over, teaches him to ride the waves as each incoming current splashes across them. It's exhilarating and cold, but Morgan loves it—and he never seems to want a wetsuit—so Kevin builds a tolerance to the temperature.

It never ceases to amaze him how fast Morgan is in the water, bobbing through the waves, swimming almost tirelessly, laughing and waiting for Kevin to catch up. At high tide one day, they swim back and forth, racing each other until they're out of breath.

Kevin teases Morgan when they're back on shore, accusing him of letting him win.

Morgan grins. “I'd never. You're a fine swimmer.”

Sally looks up from her lifeguard post as they pass by. “You
are
really good. Not too many people can swim against the current like that. You on the swim team at school?”

“Nah,” Kevin says.

“Well, you should be. Or consider trying out for junior life­guards, you know. Could use someone like you.”

Kevin shrugs, and Morgan throws him a supportive but curious smile. He'll probably have to explain what lifeguards and swim teams are once they're out of Sally's earshot, so he takes Morgan's hand, and they walk off.

“Say hi to your sister for me!” Sally calls after them; her tone is just a little too casual.

Kevin laughs and looks over his shoulder at Sally, who is pre­tending to busy herself with her chemistry textbook.

“What is it?” Morgan looks from the now blushing Sally and back to Kevin.

“People are funny, that's all,” Kevin says. Sally and his sister, that's interesting. He wonders if Ann knows, or if this was a thing when they were in high school that she's never talked about.

“Oh yes, I love your jokes.”

Kevin is pleased; he always gets reluctant groans from his family. “Knock knock,” he starts.

Morgan laughs immediately, and Kevin feels like the luckiest boy in the world.

One afternoon Morgan
asks Kevin to meet him at the beach; his excited grin hints at a surprise. Kevin spots him as he steps across the sand, which is warm in the late sun. He passes a group of hikers with a lot of strange equipment. From a distance Kevin thought they were weird—dressed for a backpacking trip, with large packs and trekking poles, instead of the more casual wear the beach joggers usually favored.

But, closer up, the things he thought were trekking poles look like modified metal detectors. One instrument buzzes strangely, and a man with salt-and-pepper hair waves a map excitedly at his group. The only instrument Kevin recognizes is the Brunton, and he's annoyed when he realizes the man holding it is using it wrong.

They're definitely not geologists. Kevin's pretty sure they're the same group he spotted at the cafe, hikers who wanted to show off their outdoorsy prowess with equipment they didn't understand. He remembers one of them adamantly denying they were geocachers and that they were doing “science,” but what kind of scientist purchases a Brunton without learning how to use it? Kevin doesn't understand what they're doing with the metal detector, either.
Whatever.
He's got a boyfriend who's got a surprise for him.

Morgan waves at him from the edge of the beach, grinning.

Jogging past the hikers. Kevin calls out, “Sorry!” when he acci­dentally kicks sand at one of them.

He overhears the hikers conversation as he passes them:

“Him?”

“No, he's a local. His parents are both professors at the state college.”

“Still… he could…”

What a weird thing to say.
Maybe they're students taking a class, not hikers. There are many field courses going on this time of year. That seems more likely.

Kevin puts the encounter out of his mind when he hugs Morgan. Morgan laughs, presses his face into Kevin's neck and kisses Kevin wetly on the cheek.

“All right, what do you want to do?”

“You said you would like to meet my family. I thought we could go on a journey.” Morgan holds up the sealskin. It almost glitters in the sunshine. The darker spots shift as Morgan shakes it, blacks and grays blending together in fluid motion.

“Can I?” Kevin asks, reaching for it. He hasn't seen the sealskin since that night Morgan told him his secret.

Morgan offers it to him, and Kevin takes it reverently, awed at how much trust Morgan is giving him. “Beautiful,” Kevin says, holding it up. “Would I make a good seal?” He throws it over his shoulders and smiles at Morgan.

Morgan laughs at him, bumping him with his hip. “You're too skinny to be a seal.” He pokes cheerfully at Kevin's arm. “Not enough fat. You'd get cold easily. That's why you need extra skins when you are in the water. Come, let us go.”

Kevin twirls exaggeratedly, the pelt flapping about him like a cape as he follows Morgan to the water. “Obviously it looks better on you.” He admires the pattern of the spots on the pelt and has a sudden thought, looking up at Morgan's bare back. He's got freckles, a myriad of small dark spots, dancing down his shoulder blades and his spine, disappearing under the shorts Morgan is wearing. Kevin holds out the sealskin, grinning as he compares the spots to those on Morgan's back. They're a match, of course.

He follows Morgan into the waves, holds the pelt aloft, walks until the ocean floor drops out beneath his feet. Morgan is already treading water, waiting for him out in the depths, bobbing in the waves. Kevin wraps the sealskin carefully around him like a scarf and swims out to Morgan, breathless with excitement. He unwraps the pelt and hands it to Morgan, taking a careful glance back toward shore. The people on the beach and the lifeguard tower look like toys; Kevin can barely tell what they're doing, so it's probably safe for Morgan to transform here.

When the next wave comes in, Morgan drapes his pelt over his shoulders and closes his eyes, concentrating. In the time it takes to inhale, a gray dappled seal looking right back at Kevin. Morgan jerks his head as if to say,
Let's go.

At first Kevin just treads water, confused, and then Morgan swims circles around him until Kevin laughs and pets his head. Morgan makes a pleased noise and nudges him closer, and Kevin throws his arms around Morgan's sleek neck, and then Morgan dives ahead in a rush of blue-green water.

Kevin hangs on as Morgan swims up the coast at breakneck speed. Kevin laughs delightedly as the wind rushes past his face, whipping his hair back. They speed toward the horizon; the sun sparkles on the water and the ocean stretches out to forever. They pass the rookery, where tourists are snapping photos of the seals basking in the sun, then head north.

Kevin isn't sure how long they've been swimming, but the sun is hanging low in the sky, and he can't see any buildings on the coast. They come upon another beach, which is flanked on both sides by impregnable cliffs. Kevin can't see a trail leading down to this beach; if there is one, it's well hidden. He supposes one could hike down to the beach if one knew it was here, but the way the cliff is eroded away at the base would make the shoreline impossible to see from above.

Morgan swims ashore, and Kevin can see a few seals sunning themselves near the water. Something about them strikes him as different from the seals at the rookery: a shimmer in the air around them, an intelligence in their eyes.

Morgan barks out a greeting. A small, chubby pup waddles over, making happy noises in return.

Kevin climbs off of Morgan's back and Morgan slips out of his sealskin, then steps onto the beach with him. The young seal transforms into a naked toddler, and excitement colors his brown cheeks to a deep ruddy red. He runs forward; his pelt falls into the sand as he rushes to greet them. The boy hugs Morgan around the knees and laughs.

“This is my younger brother, Marin,” Morgan says, ruffling his hair.

“Hello, I am Kevin.”

The boy smiles, hiding behind Morgan's legs, blinking big green eyes at him.

“He's not normally this shy.” Morgan shrugs. “I've been telling him about you all summer. He's a big fan of rocks, too.”

Another seal, larger, with a solemn expression, slowly moves in front of them. She transforms into a woman with a regal expression, and drapes her pelt around herself like a cape.

“Kevin, this is my mother.”

Kevin manages a bow similar to the one Morgan gave him when they first met, trying not to show how embarrassed he is that she's naked. Her sealskin is covering a lot, but she's still—
oh gosh, this is mortifying
. Kevin has no idea what to do, but reminds himself that casual nudity is probably normal for selkies. Morgan trusts him enough to bring him to meet his family, to show him where they live. Kevin needs to make a good impression.

“I am Linneth,” she says in a voice as melodious as Morgan's. She is tall, with a thin nose and curling, reddish-brown hair tum­bling past her shoulders. She has the same brown eyes as Morgan, but where his are wide-set, innocent and curious looking, her eyes are narrowed, scrutinizing Kevin. Linneth is both beautiful and terrifying, and Kevin tries to seem less nervous and focus on her face.

A quick glance around the beach shows at least twenty more seals and a few pups, some on the rocks, and some in the water. Kevin is quite certain the rest of the seals on this particular beach are also selkies; their intelligent eyes look on with interest, but no one else shifts.

“My son has told me many things about you,” Linneth says.

“Good things.” Morgan smiles and pats Kevin's shoulder in assurance.

Kevin nods nervously.

“Are you having a good summer?”

“The best,” Kevin says. “Morgan is… he's the most incredible person.”

Linneth smiles at him, and Kevin breathes a sigh of relief.

Morgan tugs on his arm. “Come on, I want to show you some rocks I think you'll like. And then we can sing for you.”

The cliff does look interesting, and any other time Kevin would have loved to study the striations exposed in the rock, but today he's in the company of selkies.
Magic.
“Thanks for thinking of me, but this formation will probably be similar to the one close to home. I'd love to hear you all sing, of course. Morgan said you plan to sing all night for his birthday?”

Linneth fixes him with a strange look. “In a few days my son will turn seventeen. On the night with no moon, under the stars, he will come into his heritage. We will sing until the stars give way to a new morning, for the inevitable change.”

It's an ominous way to talk about one's coming of age party, but Kevin isn't going to judge anyone's customs. “Sounds great.”

Kevin looks at Morgan, and he gets a small nod in return, as though Morgan is nervous about it. It's probably a big deal for selkies, and Kevin gives him a supportive smile, which Morgan returns, relaxing slightly.

Morgan says something to his mother in another language, which Kevin recognizes from the song he sang for him, in which words slip over themselves like bright water in a bubbling brook.

She raises her eyebrow, nods, and responds with a short few words and then her voice carries out, strong and clear across the beach, catching the attention of the other seals.

They come forward; some of them shift into human form, bodies human but eyes glinting with a wild curiosity. Pelts are flung across shoulders or wrapped around laps or laid out on a rock. Kevin tries to focus on their faces or stare off into the distance or even look only at Morgan, and once again reminds himself that his discomfort is just a by-product of being raised in a society where clothes are normal.
I'm the weird one here.

Kevin relaxes as the selkies talk to one another, gathering nearby, clearly excited about whatever Morgan and his mother are planning.

Kevin notices that they're all either much older or much younger than Morgan. He's the only teenager—of those who've shifted into human form, three look as if they're in their late twenties. An attractive young woman with dark blonde hair tumbling softly in wet curls down her front sits next to Kevin and gives him an appraising look.