by C. B. Lee
Kevin makes his way to the shore, crouching down to stay out of sight, and the salty air whistles by; the smell of sage is heavy in the air. He peeps through the shrubbery, and then stands up in confusion.
The beach is empty.
There is no one, not in seal form or human form. It’s strange, reconciling this bleak and empty shore with the busy one filled with laughter, seals wobbling around, toddlers running naked in the surf, pelts drying on the rocks.
Kevin walks out onto the sand, which is freshly wet from the receding tide. There’s no trace of anyone ever having been here at all.
The entire summer could have been a dream.
He sits on the beach, waiting for the tide to change, watching the clouds run by.
It isn’t until his phone chirps with a text message from Michelle, reminding him about lifeguard training, that he shakes himself out of his stupor.
Kevin takes a deep breath, watching the ocean. It’ll be fine.
* * *
Life invariably does go on. Sometimes thoughts of Morgan surface at the oddest times, such as when his mom brings dinner home one day from the cafe, and he’s taking French fries out of the bag. Or when Kevin’s rearranging his rock collection and turns over the piece Morgan gave him. The hurt is familiar now, a deep ache that Kevin accepts he’s going to have for a long time. He pushes the feeling deep down, focusing on keeping busy. Lifeguard training takes up most of his time before school starts. And then it’s back into the routine, getting on the bus every day to go to Cambria.
Kevin sits with Michelle, Patrick and Connor in the back row, now that they’re friends. Somehow he’s never noticed, despite having gone to school with them for years, but they say they’ve claimed this row forever, and eagerly welcome Kevin. The bus rides don’t seem so lonely anymore. Sometimes he sees Miles at school or on the bus, hanging out with his new soccer friends, and Miles always looks apprehensive, as if he’s waiting for Kevin to out him.
Kevin ignores him.
He throws himself into his schoolwork, and takes up Ms. Tran’s suggestion that he join the school newspaper staff. Michelle is a copy editor, and pleased to have another writer on board. Kevin’s afternoons are filled with frantic work to meet deadlines, with fast food runs and with the collective energy of all the other students on the staff. It’s fun; some of the kids he never bothered talking to in his first two years of high school are actually really nice.
“You know, I tried to eat lunch with you once,” Michelle says, stealing a dumpling out of the lunch his dad packed for him.
Connor spears a dumpling as well, rooting around in the lunchbox with his other hand and grinning triumphantly when he finds the small container of sauce to go with it.
Patrick laughs at both of them, and pushes his plate of chicken nuggets and French fries toward Kevin. “Yeah, I remember. You said us Bus C kids should stick together, but this one just mumbled hello and kept reading his book.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to be friends! I was super paranoid at the time, okay? You don’t remember what it was like,” Kevin protests.
Patrick nudges a container of ketchup at him. “I think a lot of us thought you were very brave. I don’t know if anyone else would have responded to Skylar’s taunts with a ‘YEAH I AM, SO WHAT?’ and then head butted him.”
Kevin shakes his head. “I ended up in the principal’s office.”
“It was pretty awesome,” Patrick recalls. Kevin snorts at him and eats the offered chicken nuggets, and then starts to pick at Michelle’s tater tots. “I think you were just trying really hard to play off the mysterious, bad-boy bisexual thing.”
Kevin blushes. “I don’t know what you were talking about. I was a loser.”
Connor pulls a pastrami sandwich from his backpack and shakes it at Kevin. “And then you started hanging out with that Miles kid, and only him. I don’t think anyone ever figured it out. Were you guys dating or something? Patrick was pretty devastated; he thought you were.”
“Shut up,” Patrick says hotly, nudging Connor. “And then this year, instead of hanging out with you, it looks like Miles signed up for Team Homophobes,” he says, glancing at where the soccer team is eating lunch a few tables away.
“I, um, well, we were friends.” Kevin has a brief impulse to tell them what happened, that he and Miles had been hooking up and then Miles had gone and pretended it was nothing. He could laugh with them about how Miles was in the closet or something, but it only seems cruel now. And pointless. “I guess we were close because we were neighbors, so I ended up hanging out with him a lot. I didn’t think he was like that, but I guess when he joined the soccer team he decided not to be friends with me anymore.”
Michelle pats Kevin on the shoulder. “His loss. Besides, you have us now.”
Connor hands Kevin half of his pastrami sandwich, stuffed with all the sauerkraut that Kevin likes but Connor doesn’t, and the four of them eat companionably, sharing their food, while Patrick tries to remember what exactly was on Ms. Tran’s exam when he took AP US History last year as a junior.
They don’t talk about Morgan. Michelle asked, on the first day, if Morgan would be at their high school, but Kevin just shook his head and said he moved away, and his friends seemed to take it upon themselves to not bring it up. Kevin talked about Morgan once with Patrick, when they were studying for their history class in Kevin’s bedroom, and it had seemed so strangely reminiscent of the days spent with Morgan that Kevin had just stared off into the distance until Patrick asked about it. Kevin talked for an hour, skimming off the supernatural aspects of the story, and Patrick put his pen down and listened intently.
“It sounds like he was a great guy,” Patrick said. And that was it: no judgment, no pitying “it’s going to get better” remarks, just a simple affirmation of Kevin’s feelings, and the invitation to talk more, if he wanted.
“He is,” Kevin said, correcting the tense to the present.
Morgan still is, somewhere, a great guy.
Twenty-two.
Morgan has a stomachache. He groans helplessly, leaning against the hard plastic seat of the diner.
“I told you not to get the fried platter,” Amanda says, snickering. “A year later, you’re still stuffing yourself sick.”
Morgan holds his stomach. “It looked so good in the picture. And I like fried things.”
“Mmhm, you’re lucky you’re a teenager; at a certain point all of that goes straight to your hips. Damn, you ate all of that.” Amanda looks at the empty plates. Morgan finished the entirety of the fried seafood platter—fish and chips, fried oysters and a mound of fried shrimp. Two empty glasses that once held milkshakes round out the tableau.
“He’s a growing boy,” Floyd says proudly. “Did you want dessert? This place does cake, too.” He pushes the menu at Morgan, smiling. His beard is a little scraggly since they’ve been camping for the past few days, but it’s still a lot neater than it was when Morgan first met him. Floyd’s eyes dance in amusement as he scans the menu. “What about the cheesecake sampler? Look, you can try all three flavors.”
“Don’t encourage him; I just got the check!” Amanda scoffs. “You’re supposed to be setting a good example!”
Morgan laughs and puts the menu back in its little holder. “I don’t think I can even look at dessert right now.”
Amanda shakes her head fondly. “All right kiddo, sounds like a plan. Let’s hit the road. Old man, you’re not driving; the way you handle turns scares me senseless.” She throws a generous tip onto the table and they head out of the diner; the bell tinkles merrily as they leave.
Morgan throws the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, and his father shakes his head at the worn and frayed old thing. “I bought you that other sweater; how come you never wear it?”
“This one was a gift,” Morgan says, pulling on the strings so the hood tightens aroun
d his face. He takes a deep breath of the fabric. It’s been a long time, so it may be mostly his imagination, thinking the sweatshirt still smells like Kevin.
Floyd pats him gently on the shoulder and gives him an understanding look.
Amanda has already started her hatchback’s engine, and she has a map propped up on the steering wheel. “All right, so we head up to Vancouver and do some quick measurements up there, plus we can hit up my post office box, and by the time we get back to the university my satellite images should have arrived and I can do the thermal analysis. This time, Floyd, be careful with the instruments; I don’t want to almost lose one to the tide. We’re not always going to have no one around to see Morgan transform and get it for us.”
“You’re the boss,” Floyd says.
Morgan sighs happily, curling in the backseat. The car’s stuffed full of luggage, camping gear, an ice chest and Amanda’s equipment, as well as her laptop and quite a few books. He wraps his arm around the pillow that has his sealskin tucked inside. He can smell the faintest hint of the sea as he smushes his face into it and watches the lights of the cars passing them by on the highway.
Amanda and Floyd argue companionably about music, and Floyd suggests taking some time to catch some fish. Morgan drifts off, watching the mountains in the dark distance, reading signs as they pass by.
They’re in Vancouver when he wakes up, and Amanda is walking back to the car, shuffling through her mail. Morgan steps out of the car to stretch his legs and smells the salt in the air and the ocean nearby.
“Oh! Morgan, these are for you,” she says, handing him a fat envelope.
Morgan looks through the contents quickly; a flare of warmth travels through his body. He has official identification now: he can register in high school and even… apply to college? He’s been doing all right; Floyd and Amanda have been tutoring him while they’re on the road doing her fieldwork, and Morgan knows from his time studying for the SAT with Kevin that the subject matters aren’t that difficult.
Floyd ruffles Morgan’s hair. “It’s official.”
Morgan looks at the California identification card—not a driver’s license, although it certainly looks like one. He turns over the plastic in his hands and marvels at the shiny holograms. He has a place here now, and what he was worried about before—not being able to have a future—all of that is taken care of.
“Morgan Linneth Floyd,” he reads, looking up at Floyd. “You gave me my mom’s name, too.”
“Amanda said the rhythm was off,” Floyd shrugs. “I know you said it would be fine if it was just my name, but I wanted you to have both.”
“Thank you.” Morgan leaps forward and hugs him around the waist. They’ve spent a lot of time together on the road, and there were times when getting to know him was difficult. They argue sometimes, and Floyd doesn’t understand when Morgan refuses his request to ask his mother to come see him, but he tries. They’ve been getting along a lot better, lately.
They collect data in Vancouver and a few more spots along the coast on their way to Amanda’s university in Humboldt. There she’ll be settling down, finishing her doctorate with a new group of supportive academic advisors, all eager to see the research she’s been doing this year.
Morgan knows it’s well past the seven-month mark, but when March came he was nervous about seeing Kevin again. What if Kevin has moved on? If he’s forgotten about Morgan? If he’s fallen in love with someone else? Morgan spent a lot of time thinking about it. He knows he only wants Kevin to be happy, and he thinks he’d be sad for himself, but it would be fine, eventually. Kevin deserves to be happy, whether it’s with Morgan or not.
He considered leaving, when it was exactly seven months since he left Piedras Blancas, but it would have meant stranding Amanda without two valuable research assistants, and he didn’t have the heart to do that, especially when she designed a new line of investigation based on what Morgan was able to find for her in seal form. Plus, the research was interesting, and he adored Amanda, and there was no way of knowing if Kevin still felt the same way about him. And then Amanda wanted to do some studies on the Aleutian Current, and that was a seasonal investigation, and Floyd had never been to Alaska, and it was just easy to keep going along with their current plan instead of facing the possibility that Kevin might not want him anymore.
“You all right, son?” Floyd asks, joining him on the cliff’s edge where he’s looking across the sea. This particular stretch of Oregon coast is lonely and rocky, and rather desolate, and Morgan is filled with a sudden pang of longing for the sounds and laughter of his herd around him, for Naida gently teasing him about something or other, even for Micah’s smug face.
“Yeah, just thinking.”
Floyd sits down next to him, and they spend a few companionable moments watching the waves together. It’s been nice, getting to know him. He has a dry sense of humor and a sharp way of looking at the world that Morgan appreciates. Morgan felt guilty at first, as if getting to know Floyd would be disloyal to Joren, his mother’s current mate, who helped raise him since he was a pup. But now he knows he doesn’t love Joren any less by learning to love Floyd.
His father nudges him. “Those look like seals, you think? Cousins of yours?”
Morgan sees the dark shapes in the distance and smiles. “Sure.”
“What are they saying?”
Morgan can’t hear the barks well enough to translate. “I don’t know if it will be very interesting, even if I could understand them,” he says, laughing. “We’re not exactly the same.”
Floyd laughs, and they watch the seals together.
One of them swims forward, and Morgan recognizes the silhouette. Warmth rushes through him, and he wants to find the trail and race down to the shoreline to say hello, but then remembers he isn’t alone.
“I’ll be right back,” Morgan says.
“Oh, one of them is a selkie?”
“I’ll only be a moment.” Morgan hesitates, wondering if he should tell—no, it isn’t his decision to make.
Floyd waves him off as Morgan runs down the trail, picking his way through the sharp turns that go down the cliffside. He’s panting when he gets to the beach.
“Mother!” Morgan calls out.
She transforms and smiles warmly at Morgan, but doesn’t walk ashore yet, just stands there in the surf as another wave breaks around her. Morgan follows her gaze up toward the cliff.
Toward his father.
Linneth and Floyd look at each other, and every second seems to stretch out like the years they’ve been apart, as if they’re thinking about the time they had together, the decisions that were made, the would-haves and should-haves and where they are now. Finally Linneth waves, gives Floyd a soft smile. There’s a lot said with that single look—love, thankfulness and appreciation.
Morgan smiles and waits on the beach, watching his parents have this moment to say hello. And goodbye.
Floyd’s truck is parked in the lot of Amanda’s new apartment in Humboldt, and they start unloading Amanda’s car, separating their belongings.
“Thank you so much for your help this year,” Amanda says, sweeping them both up in hugs. “I really couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Thank you for taking us along,” Morgan says. Amanda’s personality reminds him of Naida, a little bit, and he looks up to her with the same fondness with which he regards his siblings. “I’ll miss you.”
“Where are you guys going now?” Amanda asks. “Gonna go check out some redwoods maybe? Or go east? Lots of cool stuff out there, you know.”
“Home,” Morgan says, without hesitation.
Twenty-Three.
The morning is gray on Kevin’s first day of senior year. He smiles at the cloudy sky as he laces his shoes for his daily run. The chilly ocean air whips past him as he jogs down the beach, and Kevin sprints past the closed lifeguard t
ower, checking his watch as he goes. He considers taking the extra time to run down the pier and back, and thinks he’ll still have time to do his usual route, get home, shower and catch the bus to school.
Kevin jogs down the pier, his feet making satisfying clunks against the wood that stand out from the crashing of the waves into the pillars below. The ocean churns on endlessly, and Kevin smiles, thinking about the picture he makes, a lone figure in the middle of all of it. He’s humbled and awed, grateful for his place in the vast universe.
He takes a moment to pause at the end of the pier, standing there to watch the waves come in.
There’s a seal in the water.
It’s too far out for Kevin to see it clearly, but he knows in his heart it’s a seal.
Kevin waves at it, laughing. “Welcome to Piedras Blancas!”
And then there’s no time to linger. He’s got to get to school.
“Looking good, Luong!”
“Thanks.” Kevin smiles. He doesn’t remember what the freshman’s name is, but they’re on the swim team together.
The guy blushes and Kevin can hear him and his friends giggling as he continues down the hallway. Kevin shakes his head, still in disbelief that some people find him cool. He had a growth spurt his junior year, and shot up a few inches. Michelle’s still peeved she’s not the tallest one in their group of friends anymore. It’s still hilarious to Kevin. He turns down another hallway.
He passes Skylar, who narrows his eyes at Kevin, but doesn’t say anything, just starts walking in the other direction. Skylar’s without his usual group of hangers-on, which has something to do with his less-than-stellar performance on the soccer team last year. Kevin stopped caring about Skylar and his annoying little homophobic group of friends, spent the whole junior year ignoring them. He spent his lunchtimes either with his friends or his favorite English teacher and the rest of the student newspaper staff, instead of eating in the cafeteria and hoping to avoid getting picked on.