Storm Shells

by G. J. Walker-Smith

  I grabbed my phone off the edge of the blanket and held it out to her. “Do you need to call them? It seems rude to just show up unannounced.”

  She pushed my hand away. “They’ll be expecting us.”

  “You are so full of baloney.” I swept my hand through the hair covering her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Beautiful, but full of baloney.”

  “I’m not,” she whispered. “I’ll take you to meet the fairies. But we have to get a few supplies first.”

  I was more than happy to play along because this was Charlotte at her very best. “Like?”

  “We need dark clothing and some red cellophane.”

  I frowned, clueless. “Okay.”

  “And a torch. We’ll need a torch.”

  “Charli, I said fairies, not witches.” I’m American. In my mind, I was picturing a wooden pole with a flaming pitch-soaked rag at the top. Then I remembered that she’s Australian, and she meant a flashlight.

  “We’ll go to Alex’s,” she continued. “He’ll have everything we need.”

  I wondered if she planned to tell her father about her fairy visit, then wondered what his take on it would be. A normal person would be alarmed. But Alex wasn’t normal. He was the sole reason Charli was planning to spend New Year’s Eve with fairies in the first place.

  We stood up and Charli scooped the blanket off the lawn.

  “Hello, Charli,” called a voice behind us. “How are you?”

  We spun around to see Flynn leaning on the side fence.

  “Fine thank you,” she replied politely.

  “Catching some sun?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nice day for it.”

  “Yeah,” she repeated.

  Something about Flynn Davis didn’t sit right with me, but I was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt. I took a step closer to Charli. Maybe he hadn’t seen me standing there while he was making small talk with my wife.

  “Are you going to Jasmine’s party?” he asked, still ignoring me.

  “No, we have plans.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing you there.”

  What a tool. “Let’s go, Charlotte,” I muttered quietly.

  Charli gave him a weak wave and headed to the house. I stared him down for a few seconds before following her.

  “He’s weird, Charli,” I told her as I walked in.

  “I think he has a crush on me,” she admitted.

  I looped my arm around her waist drawing her closer. “Understandable, but completely and utterly futile. Maybe I should tell him that.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “He knows, Adam.”

  “Can’t say I blame him for trying, though,” I muttered, making her smile. “You are gorgeous.”

  * * *

  Alex and Gabrielle were standing on the veranda in a huddle when we arrived. The conversation looked intense and Gabrielle looked upset. It was a far cry from the relaxed bogan-golf mood of the day before.

  Neither of us made any attempt to get out of the car. “What do you think that’s about?” I asked.

  Charli undid her seatbelt. “I have a fair idea.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Gabrielle’s not pregnant,” she said bleakly. “Crazy Edna is a crock.”

  I’d suspected as much when she’d relayed the story to me the night before.

  I looked across at the unhappy couple. “Should we go home?”

  “No. Just give them a minute.”

  It seemed a long time before Alex finally released his hold on her. Gabrielle slipped into the house, leaving him standing there. Just as we were getting out of the car, she flew out again, hurled something on the lawn and stormed back inside.

  Both of us slowed as we walked up the path, checking to see what she’d thrown. It was Charli’s bunch of lavender.

  I took a long stride forward and grabbed Charli’s hand.

  “Poor Gabi,” she whispered. “I feel terrible.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I murmured.

  We stepped onto the veranda. “Hi Dad,” muttered Charli.

  She only ever called him dad when he looked like he needed it. Today, I think he needed it.

  “Hey,” he replied.

  “Is Gabi okay?” asked Charli.

  “Charli, what were you thinking taking her to Edna Wilson’s?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I didn’t. I just went with her for moral support. I tried talking her out of it.”

  He nodded, immediately accepting that for once, the harebrained idea hadn’t come from Charli. “It kind of backfired on her.”

  “Is she okay?” I asked.

  “She will be.” He looked down at the banished lavender on the lawn. “She’s having a rough day.”

  We’d already guessed why. No one needed the agony of hearing about it. Charli moved quickly to change the subject. “Do you have a torch we can borrow? We’re going to see the fairies.”

  I watched Alex’s expression closely, expecting him to melt down at any second. He was being bombarded by craziness from all angles – first Gabrielle’s not-so psychic visit and now Charli’s fairy adventures. But he replied casually, as if there wasn’t a scrap of madness in her words. “Yeah. There’s one in shed.”

  “Alex.” I spoke very slowly, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “We’re going to visit fairies.”

  His smile looked more like a smirk. “I heard. You’re going to see the fairies.”

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  “What about red cellophane?” asked Charli. “Do you have any?”

  Alex shook his head, still unperturbed. “You won’t need it. I’ve got a torch with a red lens.”

  Her grin brightened to stellar level. “Thank you.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me down the steps, toward the shed.

  I turned as we got to the door, in time to see Alex pick up the lavender and walk into the house.

  * * *

  Fairy get-togethers are not black tie affairs. Charli made us dress like a couple of criminals in dark hoodies and jeans.

  “Is this necessary?”

  “Yes, it’s cold out. Stop complaining.” She grabbed the flashlight. “Are we good to go?”

  “It’s only five o’clock.”

  She pulled me toward the door. “Party starts at dusk, Adam. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  We drove further south than I’d ever been before. The weather got cooler and Charli got warmer. I held her hand just to keep her from bouncing around the interior of the car.

  “I’m so excited to show you the fairies,” she beamed. “You’re going to love them.”

  I couldn’t begin to imagine how she was going to pull this one off. Part of me was worried about it. This was extreme La La’ing at its finest.

  I’d learned my lesson after my last visit and wisely rented an SUV this time round. It held up well when we pulled off the highway and drove down the crude gravel track.

  The scrubby bush hid the ocean from view, but I could hear it. Maybe we were visiting water fairies. I spent the trek to the beach trying to remember the name of the fairies that burn men’s skin and dissolve into puddles. Then I began to worry that I was going a little mad.

  As we neared the beach, Charli stopped. “We have to be really quiet now,” she instructed. “And move slowly.” I must’ve looked nervous. She hooked her arm through mine. “Don’t be scared,” she said darkly. “I won’t let them get you.”

  She was enjoying this way too much.

  We broke through the bush to the open sand but went no further. Charlotte sat at the edge of the reeds and patted the sand beside her.

  “Can’t we sit on the beach?” I asked. If there was even a slight chance that this fairy nonsense was real, I wanted to be able to see them coming at me.

  She shook her head. “Sit.”

  She reached into her bag and handed the flashlight to me. Next came the camera. It wasn’t the one she usually used. This
one looked antiquated and clunky. I’d never seen it before.

  “Is that a fairy camera, Charlotte?” I was only half joking.

  “It’s a Polaroid camera.” She snapped the film cartridge into place as if loading a gun. “I wanted to capture the moment for you.”

  Something told me I was going to remember it forever, whether I had the photographic evidence or not.

  “Polaroid is magic,” she added. “I love the instant gratification of watching the picture develop before your eyes.”

  I was constantly in awe of this girl. I always had been. “Show me,” I ordered.

  She leaned in close, held the big box camera out with both hands and pressed the button. A white card ejected from the bottom, and she held it in front of me.

  “See?” she marvelled. “Instant selfie, old school style.”

  I watched the cloudy picture of the two of us come to life – like magic.

  “Your talent is wasted here, Charlotte,” I murmured. “You’re the biggest small town girl I know.”

  The light got dimmer and the temperature dropped as the day slipped away. I inched closer to her to keep warm. We’d been there nearly half an hour and hadn’t spotted a single fairy. It was time to call her out on it.

  “Looks like they’re a no-show. We could probably still make Jasmine’s party.” I breathed the words into her ear.

  “No need,” she said smugly. “They’re here.”

  I straightened up, looking in all directions, mentally slating myself for being gullible. I saw nothing.

  “That way, Adam.” She pointed to the ocean.

  I followed her finger and squinted at the shoreline and noticed the most spectacular thing I’d ever seen. Little penguins, no more than a foot tall, wandered out of the surf and made their way up the beach toward us.

  “Meet the fairy penguins,” she whispered. “Sit still and be quiet.”

  Little did she know, I wasn’t capable of moving or talking at that point.

  She turned on the flashlight and pointed it at the penguins waddling through the sand. They continued on their way, unperturbed by the red light.

  One by one they disappeared into the scrub behind us, heading for their burrows.

  I had never seen anything like it, and probably never would again. “I love you,” I whispered. “So freaking much.”

  Her giggle came out in a quiet breath. “I know.”

  We didn’t move for a long time, until all the penguins were out of sight. Charli turned off the flashlight and the scene became even more perfect.

  The moon was large, casting a silver glow though the cloudless sky, and Peter Pan would’ve been impressed by the number of stars on show. All I could hear was the calm ocean rolling into shore. And at that moment, I swear life was perfect.

  “I told you I knew some fairies,” she gloated.

  “Is that really what they’re called, Charlotte?” I asked sceptically.

  “They’re actually called Eudyptula minor. It’s Greek, I think,” she explained. “It means ‘good little diver’. Australians call them fairy penguins, because that’s how we roll.”

  The darkness hid none of her smile.

  “Why are they coming ashore?” I asked.

  “They’re hanging out with their chicks. When the hatchlings are big enough, they’ll move out to sea.”

  I swept my hand under the fall of her hair, resting it on the back of her neck. “Why do they all come in at the same time?”

  “Because there’s safety in numbers. They’ve got to get all the way from their beach to their rookery and hope that nothing eats them along the way.”

  “You’re like a penguin aficionada, aren’t you?”

  She laughed. “Not really. I just grew up with Alex for a father.”

  * * *

  One lifetime was not going to be enough with this girl, especially considering we were living it five minutes at a time.

  We were back at the cottage and headed to bed before ten. I couldn’t think of a better way to see in the New Year. I switched off the lamp, plunging the room into pitch black.

  “Adam, how long are you going to keep bouncing back to me?” Charli asked. Her hand found my face and I turned to kiss her palm.

  “Forever.”

  “That’s a big ask.”

  “Let me worry about the details,” I said quietly. “I’m sure we’re not the first couple to have a long-distance relationship.”

  She knotted her hands through my hair and craned her neck as I kissed her throat.

  “Nope. Our penguin friends do it all the time,” she replied a little breathlessly. “Not fairy penguins, Adelie penguins. They mate for life – totally monogamous. They spend the winter hanging out in the southern hemisphere before making their way down to Antarctica. That’s when the fun begins.”

  “I like fun,” I murmured, lowering my head to kiss my way down her body.

  “The males are big show-offs,” she continued. “They strut and parade around trying to catch the attention of the females.”

  “Do I have your attention, Charlotte?” I asked, kissing a line across her warm stomach.

  “You have everything of mine,” she breathed.

  I smiled against her skin. “What happens next?”

  She put her hands on the side of my head, guiding me back to her face. “Well, when a special penguin catches his eye, he presents her with a precious stone foraged from the frozen ground. If she accepts the stone, they start a bond for life. Each year he returns and they find each other again, and another stone is presented as a token of affection. They use the stones to build their nest.”

  “So there’s hope for us yet.” I kissed the corner of her mouth. “All I have to do is keep coming back with rocks.”

  “There’s always hope for us, Adam,” she said seriously. “No matter what.”

  January 2

  Charli

  The supermarket in Pipers Cove is the social hub of the town. I usually avoided it at all costs, but Adam objected to living on cereal.

  Our quick trip to buy a few groceries turned in to a half-day event by the time I’d finished talking to everyone who stopped me. I recounted the last two years of my life and introduced Adam a hundred times. Ever polite, he pretended to be happy to meet every one of them.

  “You’re quite the celebrity,” he whispered as we escaped Floss’s next-door neighbour, Mrs Simpson.

  “They’re just nosy.”

  Alex had obviously told them nothing about my time away. He had epic skill when it came to deflecting gossip.

  “Can we get coffee here?” asked Adam hopefully.

  I stopped, halting both of us. “You should make a New Year’s resolution, Adam,” I suggested, drumming my finger into his chest.

  “I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, Charlotte,” he scoffed. Perhaps that was because his whole life was one big resolution.

  “You should give up coffee.”

  He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “And what will you give up? Make it painful. It has to be something you’ll miss.”

  “You,” I said miserably. “In about a week from now.”

  He grabbed the trolley and began pushing it forward again. “We should be enjoying this week,” he said. “Don’t put a dampener on things.”

  It was impossible not to. Mitchell’s ninth wave analogy sprung to mind. The feeling of being hit by my rogue wave was getting stronger every day. I couldn’t understand why the despair wasn’t crushing him. “I hate that you function so well without me,” I grumbled. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

  Adam turned to look at me. “Is that what you think? I’m miserable without you, Charli. There are words I don’t even say when you’re not around. They’re meaningless,” he rambled. “Everything becomes meaningless. It’s a pathetic existence.”

  I smiled wryly. “I feel so much better now.”

  He smiled back. “I’m glad you can take comfort in my misery.”

  I giggled. “
It’s a mutual predicament, Adam.”

  * * *

  We were loading groceries into the car when I spotted the one person I was actually keen to talk to. Crazy Edna was ambling up the footpath at a snail’s pace.

  “Mrs Wilson,” I called. The old woman looked up.

  “Who’s that?” asked Adam.

  “Crazy Edna.”

  Adam grabbed a handful of my sleeve to stop me approaching her. Perhaps he knew how angry I was. I had a major bone to pick with the witchy old shyster. Edna approached us instead and Adam tightened his grip.

  “Hello, dear.”

  “You’ve caused a lot of trouble in my family, Mrs Wilson.”

  “How?” She had the nerve to sound surprised.

  “Gabrielle is heartbroken because you told her she was pregnant. She’s not pregnant. Your prediction was wrong.”

  The old lady seemed completely unaffected by my lecture.

  “I never said she was pregnant.”

  “You did!”

  She shook her head. “I said I could see a child,” she told me. “I stand by that claim.”

  She looked at Adam, and had the nerve to smile at him. He was in danger of ripping the sleeve off my shirt now.

  “In future, please keep your visions to yourself,” I muttered, making a grab for the last bag of shopping in the trolley.

  “The earth talks to me,” insisted Edna, reverting back to her warbly theatrical voice. “It’s my duty to listen. The child I see isn’t the French girl’s.” She leaned forward, speaking to Adam. “It’s yours.”

  January 2

  Adam

  The slow pace of life in Pipers Cove evaporated in an instant. I was now running at full tilt trying to keep up. One minute we were grocery shopping, the next minute we were being thrown for a loop by a crazy old lady in a parking lot.

  “Get in the car, Charlotte,” I ordered, determined to put an end to it.

  She seemed to have lost the ability to walk.

  “You’re a nasty, crazy old woman,” Charli shouted.

  Edna barely reacted. I expect that was because she’d heard it before. She pointed at me. “You’re going to run out of time.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” barked Charli, throwing her hands in the air. “You said the same thing to me the other day. At least be original in your ramblings.”