Seaweed (5 page)

Then I remembered the tattoos. He probably didn’t want me to see them. Maybe if he knew that I knew, he wouldn’t care.

“I know about your tattoos.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I mean if that’s what you’re worried about. I saw them when you had your shirt off at the beach this morning. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

But, I didn’t promise I wouldn’t stare. Which was a good thing.

He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and I felt the sandwich in my hand quiver. I put it down on the cooler in front of him.

I stared.

With the reflection off the water, his tattoos were unbelievable. They were fluid, little rivers of blue and green running in a lacy Celtic pattern.

“They’re beautiful, Tor. Where did you get it done?”

“Hey, I already took my shirt off.” He grinned abashedly and I could tell he was embarrassed. “I should at least get to eat before you bombard me with questions.”

“Oh, of course. It’s on the cooler.”

We ate in silence, and I contemplated Tor—how he was dressed today, almost like he was determined not to get wet, how he’d freaked out at the bonfire when I’d tossed the water in his face, the way he’d dove into the sea and never re-surfaced, his beautiful scale-like tattoos…

And then I had the craziest thought.

Nah, that was stupid.

But….

Dori, be real.

Well, he did dive into the ocean and not come out.

So, it was dark; the current dragged him to another beach.

He was “afraid” of water.

Lots of people were afraid of the ocean.

And, I didn’t believe in myths.

Still…

It all kind of made sense.

Just because you didn’t believe in something, did it automatically make it untrue?

I couldn’t reel in this fantastical train of thought. My mind knew enough not to name what it was thinking.

But, what about Crazy Jim? Had he spun a tale? Or really seen a tail?

My mouth felt dry, bread gumming up under my lips.

Tor’s tattoos danced in the ocean’s reflection. He settled his sea green eyes on me, so deep, so otherworldly… and suddenly I believed it.

I choked on my sandwich.

“Are you okay?” Tor said.

I nodded and took a bottle of water from the cooler, turning away from Tor as I slugged it down.

“I’m fine.”

I tried to relax with the rocking of the waves. Tor was a merboy. I was sure of it. A freaking merboy. I was thankful for my sunglasses, because they kept Tor from seeing my wide-eyed, freaked out expression, at how much I kept staring at him.

“What are you thinking about?” he said finally.

“Nothing.”

“You’re very quiet, suddenly. And tense. You’re thinking about something.”

After a quick inner debate, I decided to test my theory. “Well, actually, I’m thinking about something Sawyer said in English, this morning. Crazy Jim, he’s like Eastcove’s town drunk. Well, he ran into Sawyer and told him this fantastic story. He believes he saw a mermaid.” I watched for Tor’s reaction. He didn’t flinch but I noticed his mouth twitch slightly.

“That’s funny,” he said, evenly. “What made you think of that?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You and your unnatural tattoos, you and your aversion to water, you know, while you’re dry. You and your late night dive and disappearance into the ocean.”

“Lots of people like to believe in myths. Sailors have claimed to see mermaids for centuries. No one has ever proven that they’re real.”

“You’re not denying it, though.”

“I got my tattoos done in Boston. I was afraid of badly sanitized needles so I went to the very best, elitist parlor. Same place the stars get theirs done.”

“Those must’ve cost a bundle.”

“I got an inheritance rather suddenly.”

Oh. Was that what had happened to his parents? I felt very foolish. “I’m sorry.”

I turned away and looked out at the horizon. The merfolk theory had made sense for a few minutes. Now I felt like an absolute idiot. A merboy—how ridiculous. I felt so stupid; I was too ashamed to even look at him.

And if that weren’t bad enough, my legs started to act up. I scratched my thighs and then the itching started behind my ears.

“Let’s go swimming,” I said, throwing off my long sleeve shirt. Before Tor had a chance to say anything, I dove in.

The water felt great. Cool, but the summery weather had warmed things up a little. It was definitely warmer than the night Tor dove in.

And it was therapeutic to my flaring red legs and to my embarrassed soul. I swam and dove underwater playfully like a dolphin, happy and at home in the ocean. I surfaced and looked up at Tor who was leaning over the edge with a frown on his face.

“Come on in,” I sang, desperate to change the mood. “The water is fine.”

He didn’t crack a smile. “Come back in the boat, Dori.”

“Why? I’m not going to drown. I’m an excellent swimmer. I tried to save you, remember? Come in.” I put on my flirty voice. “I’ll save you again if you need saving.”

“You can save me up here if you want. Just come back in.”

I didn’t understand him at all. This guy was anything if not an enigma. Maybe his midnight experience had traumatized him. Maybe he really was afraid of water now and that was why he was hesitant to say yes when I invited him sailing.

I decided to give him a break and stroked toward the ladder on the side of the hull.

I felt a pull on my leg.

I was tugged underwater for a moment then bobbed back up. I couldn’t think of what my leg was tangled in, but I felt something gripping my foot. We were too far out for seaweed, too far north for most sharks. Plus, I thought a shark bite would hurt a little more than this.

Whatever it was tugged me under again. I opened my eyes, trying to see what was gripping my leg. The water was murky, but it looked like…

A hand.

I kicked my leg now wanting to surface and get a breath. Someone was scuba diving, and the joke wasn’t funny!

I heard a splash, or rather felt it, the water around me sloshing. I could hold my breath for a long time, but my chest was burning. If I didn’t surface and get a breath soon, I was going to take a big, life-threatening drink.

I saw a streak of blue, large and scaly.

The hand on my leg released and I thrust myself up toward the sunlight.

“Dori!” Tor was in the water with me. His tattoos were shimmering and moving like mad. His eyes were wide and glossy. He was frightened, but I wasn’t sure of what. The water? The scuba diver?

I caught my breath and then reached out to him, touching the smooth skin on his back. My hand slipped below the surface. I felt scales.

On Tor. He had a tail.

CHAPTER EIGHT

My head felt like cotton candy and I sputtered as the water washed over my face. Tor reached his arm under mine, and he swam back to the boat with me. By the time I gripped the ladder my head had cleared. I hung on, staring hard at Tor. His worried expression hadn’t changed.

“I have to go.”

I nodded, too stunned to speak.

“Can you get the boat back alone?”

I nodded again. I crawled aboard with shaky legs. He didn’t say anything when I caught his eye. Then he disappeared under the water and I knew he wouldn’t come back.

I lay on the deck of the boat, letting it rock my nerves back to a manageable tremble. I shivered under my towel until the sun warmed me up.

Tor
was
a merboy. I had been right. I remained in a stupor, my mind unable to process what I’d just seen. It was one thing to imagine that a guy was a merboy, and a whole other thing to witness it as fact.

Tor had rescued me from the stupid scuba guy and by doing so he was forced to reveal his true nature. Not just to me but possibly to the scuba guy. If that moron saw him through the murkiness, it would be big news in Eastcove by the time I got back.

What now? Would Tor and his uncle have to leave? Was that why they’d left Maine?

Thinking about Tor leaving Eastcove produced a dull ache in my chest. I didn’t want him to leave. Despite what I knew, despite what he
was
, I still really liked him and I cared about what might happen to him.

Was there a way I could help Tor and his uncle? Defuse the story? Convince everyone once again, that it was a trick of the light?

And would Tor
want
me to help them? Did he still want
me
?

Finally dried and over the initial shock, I pulled up the anchor. I reset the sails and headed back to Eastcove. When I’d left the shore earlier, I was with Tor. Now I was returning back to the pier alone.

I stumbled along Main Street in a daze. I somehow made it home and spent the rest of the evening in my room, faking a cough, using illness as an excuse to be left alone. Crosby purred in my ear as I tried to figure things out. Tried to figure Tor out.

How did animorphism work? Or actually, partial animorphism which–if you believe in that kind of thing–and I did now, had to hurt. Or at least be really uncomfortable.

Obviously, when Tor had two legs he didn’t like water, so I was guessing water was a trigger. If Tor got wet, he morphed.

I wasn’t sure how it worked for him to get his legs back, but since he didn’t get out of the water with me, it must have been a more difficult process.

What I hadn’t yet considered were the questions Tor was likely posing to himself. Maybe Tor only wanted something with me as long as I didn’t know his secret. He
did
make up that story about Boston. Those tattoos definitely didn’t come from a tattoo parlor, no matter how elite.

I wondered if he’d show up for school tomorrow, if I’d ever see him again.

Just before dusk, I called Sidney and headed out to the beach. I searched for Tor, going back to the rock I’d dubbed Tor’s Rock, and felt a brooding emptiness when he wasn’t there. I traveled a good distance in each direction, finally giving up when it got too dark.

I lay awake on my bed, my heart growing heavier with each hour. Now that I worried that Tor might be gone from my life for good, I longed to see him again. Maybe seeing him with a tail was a deal killer. I slept fitfully and when dawn broke, I slipped out of the house, careful not to wake Mom or Dad, hoping that he would be looking for me, too.

With Sidney on my heels I was soon at the water’s edge. The fog was dense and low and I couldn’t see the horizon. I headed north toward the bend that hid Tor’s Rock from view. My heart thumped with anticipation. Please, let him be there.

I rounded the bend. The mist settled in eerie patches and I could barely make out the rock. Then I saw movement. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. I let it out in a slow, shudder. I froze to the spot. Tor was there. With legs on.

He spotted me. His eyes widened with question. I felt that sense of embarrassment that manifests when you’ve accidentally caught someone who forgot to lock the bathroom door, and meet up with them the next day. I felt myself flush.

It seemed neither of us knew what to do. Even Sidney was confused. He squirmed a bit then nestled into the pebbles to wait it out.

Tor took a step and my legs suddenly came to life. We moved toward each other and it felt like a hazy dream.

“I was hoping that you’d come.” Tor’s voice was smooth and yet there was a question, a trace of insecurity there.

“I came yesterday.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well, this is awkward.”

I mimicked him by storing my hands away, too. “Yup.”

He motioned with his head. “Want to walk?”

“Okay.”

The tide was out so we were in no danger of accidentally getting our feet wet, but I stayed on the inside just to make sure. Sidney lagged behind. We scared up a flock of seagulls and they squawked and circled us in noisy protest.

“I imagine you have a few questions,” Tor said softly.

“A few.”

“Shoot.”

I didn’t know where to start. “Um, how long have you been…like this?”

“I am merfolk. I’ve been coming ashore for almost a year.”

He was
merfolk
. Merfolk were real. I shook my head.

“Dori?”

“How often are you… like this?” Boy, my questions were lame.

“You mean human-like?”

I nodded.

“About half and half. I have to go into the sea every few days or so, otherwise I dehydrate.”

Okay. I gave myself a minute to process that. “What did you mean when you said you’ve only been coming to shore for almost a year?”