Shifting (Swans Landing)

by Norris, Shana

  I raised my eyebrows. “What about them?”

  “Well,” Mr. Richter said slowly, “have you made any yet?”

  Mr. Richter had spoken with all of the juniors this year, giving us various brochures from colleges across the country. Mine had been tossed in the trash three months ago.

  “No,” I answered.

  Mr. Richter sat up, placing his hands on his desk. “Dylan, this is your future we’re talking about. You’re a good student. You’d do well in furthering your education—”

  “Mr. Richter?” I shifted in my seat, glancing up at one of those inspiring posters of the night sky with the words REACH FOR THE STARS under it. “You...you know what I am?”

  Mr. Richter was quiet for a moment before answering. “Yes, I know.”

  “So why are we having this conversation?” I asked.

  Mr. Richter leaned over his desk. “Dylan, you can’t sell yourself short because you think you’re tied to this island. Finfolk or not, you still have the chance to do whatever you want in your life.”

  I laughed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Richter, but you have no idea what it’s like to be me. I can’t survive away from the ocean. I physically ache and get sick. I’m stuck here.”

  “There are schools near the coast. You could—”

  I shook my head as I stood. “Thanks, Mr. Richter. But my future is here, making a life on the water. It’s what people like me do.”

  “And what will you do when that life dries up?” Mr. Richter asked.

  I paused at the door, my hand on the knob.

  “The fish are disappearing, Dylan,” Mr. Richter said. “You know that much better than I do.”

  “Lake and I pulled in a good catch this morning,” I said. “Maybe that means things are getting better.”

  “It’s May and the tourists haven’t started coming.”

  I shrugged. “It’s a cycle, right?”

  But Mr. Richter looked grim when I glanced back at him. He stood from his desk and walked toward me.

  “Did you know the ferry missed its scheduled stop this morning?” He slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “It just didn’t come. When someone at the dock here called the mainland dock, the person spoke as if they’d never heard of Swans Landing before. Like they didn’t remember the island.” He paused. “Like it didn’t exist.”

  A chill prickled its way up my spine. “That’s ridiculous.”

  Mr. Richter stared back at me. “Is it? A lot of things on this island are ridiculous, and yet...” He reached past me and pulled the door open. “Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you’re right and things are getting better. But don’t throw your future away because you think you’re stuck here, Dylan. There’s a whole world out there, and a lot more water than what touches these shores. I don’t know what’s happening here, but don’t let yourself be forgotten along with the island.”

  Mr. Richter’s words left me feeling slightly rattled. When I stepped outside into the thick gray afternoon, I felt chilled all the way through.

  I had lived my entire life on the island. The sound of the ferry’s horn as it approached and disembarked from the island was a constant part of the background noise. The ferry traveled the three hour path between Swans Landing and the mainland three times a day.

  Why had I not noticed that the horn didn’t break the silence while we were on the water? My thoughts had been absorbed in Elizabeth Connors, that was why. She had been the last thing I’d thought about as I’d fallen asleep the night before and the first thing in my mind that morning when I opened my eyes.

  Instead of turning toward the road that would take me to Pirate’s Cove, I followed the sandy street to my own neighborhood. Two old women drove by in a golf cart, giving me suspicious stares as they passed. A group of kids played soccer in the middle of the road. A woman bounced a baby in her lap as they rocked on a wooden swing on the front porch of a house at the corner. Everything looked the same as it always had.

  Except there were no tourists.

  And apparently, no ferry either.

  Chapter Nine

  “Let’s take a break.” I sat up, pushing tangled hair out of my eyes.

  The thin strap of Elizabeth’s tank top slipped down one shoulder. “Getting too warm for you?” she asked, smirking my way.

  I licked my dry lips, still tasting her strawberry lip gloss. I didn’t know what was going on in my head anymore. Here I was, sitting on Elizabeth’s bed, in her room. Her parents weren’t home. She didn’t say much when I asked where they were, she had shrugged and said, “Working.” She had a younger brother and sister, but she didn’t say where they were either.

  It was just the two of us, alone here in her quiet house. I didn’t want to think about her family or mine, or about the rest of Swans Landing at all. The ferry had come that morning as scheduled, but even that hadn’t settled the strange feeling in my gut. Like there was something happening here that none of us could see. Not just the missing ferry or the clouds that wouldn’t lift or the tourists that didn’t come.

  But I didn’t want to think about any of that right then. Any other guy in my position would lie back and enjoy it.

  The room smelled like her and looked like her. Coral colored bedding and sheer lacy curtains. Pictures of her friends were taped on the wall next to me, a giant collage of all the people at school I spent my days avoiding.

  “I feel a little creeped out with all of your boyfriends watching us.” I nodded toward the pictures on the wall.

  “Number one, they’re not my boyfriends. Number two.” Elizabeth moved in front of me, sliding herself between my legs. “You’re the only one here with me.”

  She tried to press her lips to mine again, but I turned my head so her mouth met my cheek. “And how many of them have been here before me?”

  Elizabeth drew back, rising up on her knees. She crossed her arms and glared at me. “What do you think I am, Dylan?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Isn’t that the whole point? I barely know you at all, right?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “So what? You want to talk? Fine. Talk.”

  I pushed myself off the bed and grabbed my shoes, shoving my feet into them. “Maybe I should go.”

  But Elizabeth wrapped her arms around me, one hand slipping down my collar to my chest. Her mouth was near my ear, her breath hot on my skin. “Don’t go,” she whispered.

  I didn’t move. We sat there for a moment, her body pressed against my back. I had asked myself a hundred times on the way to her house what I was doing, and I still didn’t have an answer. All I knew was I couldn’t stay away.

  “None of them have been here before,” she told me.

  I snorted.

  “I’m serious. You’re the first guy who’s been in my room.”

  “What about Kyle?”

  She laughed. “He wishes.”

  I wanted to believe she was telling the truth. “What makes me so special?” I asked.

  She slipped her body around me until she was in my lap, her arms around my neck. “Because you’re different.”

  “Because I’m finfolk? You have some kind of fetish?”

  Elizabeth scowled. “No. You. You’re different than all those other guys at school. Not just the finfolk thing. Everything.” She broke off and looked away, biting her lip as if she had said too much. For a moment, she had opened herself up in a way I had never seen. I wanted to see more of that, but already her expression seemed to be shutting down and returning to her usual detached state.

  “So, Fish Boy,” she said, “what do you want to know about me?”

  I wanted to know everything about her, but I could tell she wasn’t willing to get too personal. “What’s your favorite color?” I asked.

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but she said, “Coral. Yours?”

  “Blue. Favorite food?”

  “The lasagna from the Sand Dollar.”

  I nodded. “That is good. Mine would have to be Miss Gale’s c
hicken pastry.”

  Elizabeth trailed a finger over my jaw. “Are we done yet?” she asked.

  My gaze scanned the room, trying to find something to distract me from the sensations her touch sent through my body. A miniature version of the Eiffel Tower stood on top of a book of Shakespeare on her desk. “You like Shakespeare?”

  She sighed. “Yes, I like Shakespeare.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “Romeo and Juliet.”

  She tilted her head back, tossing her hair behind her shoulder as she said, “No. The Tempest.”

  “Which one is that?” I asked.

  “The one about the people on the island.”

  I frowned. “Oh.” I’d had enough of islands to last me ten thousand lifetimes. Change of subject. “Have you ever been to Paris?”

  She followed my gaze, then shook her head. “No, that’s from Las Vegas.”

  “When did you go to Vegas?”

  “Three years ago,” she said, shrugging. “Family vacation. My mom always wanted to go.”

  The farthest my family had ever been was Manteo, farther north along the Outer Banks. It was difficult to do family vacations for us. We couldn’t go inland, and if we stayed near the coast, we got the urge to swim, which was dangerous in places where no one knew about finfolk.

  “Where else have you been?” I asked.

  She named several trips, some near the coast and others far inland. I tried to imagine all the places she had seen, the ones I’d only experienced through pictures and movies.

  “My turn,” she said. Elizabeth’s body stiffened slightly and she stared hard at me. “Why didn’t you go with Sailor when she left? I thought you two were stuck at the hip.”

  My finger traced circles over her thigh while I thought about this.

  “Sometimes I think I should have gone,” I admitted. “I had a way out of here, away from this island, and I gave it up. But I don’t want to find more finfolk. I don’t want to swim forever. I’ve spent my life swimming and sometimes I’m so sick of it. Sometimes I want to walk for the rest of my life.”

  “I thought all of you people liked being finfolk.”

  “Sailor once called it a half-life,” I told her. “And she’s right. We live with a constant ache for what we don’t have. If we’re in the water, we want to be on land. If we’re on land, we want the water. It never ends.”

  “I think it would be fun.” Elizabeth shifted in my lap, moving closer to me. “To change, and be something else for a while. Leave everything behind and swim far away.”

  I didn’t want to be Finfolk Dylan right then. I wanted the chance to imagine being a normal guy. So I turned myself around, pushing Elizabeth down onto the bed and moving over her. I kissed her hungrily, feeling like I could never get enough.

  She grinned up at me when I pulled back so we could catch our breaths. “So, what about you? How many girlfriends have you ended up with like this?”

  Mara’s sleeping in my bed didn’t count. We had kissed only a little, and I’d been too afraid to touch her, thinking if I did it would break whatever moment we’d had. That she’d realize I wasn’t the one she wanted after all. Which had happened anyway, despite me keeping my hands to myself.

  “None,” I told her. “Not like this.”

  Chapter Ten

  Mara smiled wide when she opened her front door. My stomach still did a little flip-flop whenever she smiled at me. I hadn’t talked much to her these last few days. Sneaking off with Elizabeth during lunch and after school had taken up a lot of my time. It was nice to see Mara again.

  “Dylan!” Lake called from his table in front of the windows. “Come see the masterpieces.”

  He had a table full of shadow boxes laid out side by side and each one contained an angel made of seashells. They were all created from the same types of shells, but each was a unique blend of colors. Usually I envied Lake for how easily he could create amazing works of art from ordinary things, but today I felt nothing.

  “They’re great,” I said, trying to gather up some enthusiasm.

  “I thought I’d make a bunch of them for summer this year,” Lake said. “They will be the center of my display. You know how tourists love things like this.”

  “Yes, cheap and tacky, they’ll love them,” Mara said.

  Lake shot her an annoyed glare. “You want food this summer, you better hope my cheap and tacky angels sell.”

  “Like you even know how to cook food in the first place,” Mara shot back with a mischievous smile.

  Any other time, I would have laughed and enjoyed seeing the two of them teasing each other. Mara and Lake’s relationship had been so strained since she arrived in Swans Landing, so it was nice that they were bonding. But I couldn’t get into the same light-hearted mood they had.

  “Did you hear the ferry didn’t come yesterday?” I asked, my gaze focused on one of the angels.

  Lake and Mara paused, looking at me.

  “What?” Lake asked.

  “Mr. Richter told me the ferry didn’t come to the island yesterday morning,” I said. “And when the guy at the dock called to find out why, the person there acted as though they’d never heard of Swans Landing before.”

  I looked up to see how they’d take this news. Mara looked confused, tilting her head to the side as she absorbed my words. Lake pressed his lips together.

  “What does that mean?” Mara asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s what Mr. Richter told me.”

  We looked at Lake, but he only shook his head. “Maybe it was someone new,” he said. “Maybe he was confused.”

  “Has the ferry ever not come?” Mara asked.

  A few seconds of silence ticked by before Lake answered, “No, except during hurricanes.”

  The day outside the window was dark and cloudy, but it didn’t feel like a hurricane. It didn’t feel like anything I’d ever experienced before.

  Mara shook her head. “I’m sure it was all a mistake. Mr. Richter must have heard wrong.” She walked across the room and picked up her camera. “I’m going over to see Miss Gale. Dylan, you want to come?”

  I followed Mara down the steps and then we walked side by side toward Miss Gale’s house only a couple streets over. I hoped Mara couldn’t smell the scent of Elizabeth’s perfume that still lingered on my clothes.

  In the distance, beyond the homes of our neighborhood, I could hear the ever present swish of the ocean as it lapped at the shore. Sometimes I could tune it out, but I always felt its presence deep inside me. Mr. Richter and the other humans on the island had no idea what it was like to be finfolk and to be connected to the island in the way we were. Leaving would be easy for them.

  “So what do you think?” I asked, breaking the silence between us.

  “About what?” Mara pulled her hair back from her face and tied it up in a messy bun.

  “About the ferry not coming.”

  “It’s probably like Lake said. Just a misunderstanding.”

  I kicked at a rock. “Mr. Richter said we’re being forgotten.”

  “What does he mean by that?”

  “The tourists haven’t come. Now the ferry didn’t come.” I kicked at a flattened soda can in the road. “What if Mr. Richter is right?”

  Mara gave me a look like I was being stupid. “Like what, the whole island is disappearing off the earth? Don’t be ridiculous, Dylan.”

  Ridiculous. A lot of things on this island are ridiculous, Mr. Richter had said. I grew scales and a fin whenever I was in salt water. Why couldn’t an entire island disappear if it wanted to?

  We knocked on Miss Gale’s door, but we didn’t expect an answer. I unlocked it and we stepped inside the cool house. The only light came from the skylights overhead, but it was so muted and gray that the crystal prisms didn’t cast any rainbows that day.

  “Miss Gale?” Mara called as I followed her down the hall to Miss Gale’s room.

  Miss Gale was sitting up in bed, the blanket pushed back off her l
egs. Her shoulders were stooped and her chest heaved as she panted, as if she had run a marathon.

  “Oh,” she said, seeing us in the doorway. “I was going to get something to drink.”

  “Lay down,” Mara told her, rushing across the room to help Miss Gale settle into bed again. “We’ll get you a drink. Dylan?”

  I nodded and left the room to get a glass of water from the kitchen. When I returned, Mara was tucking Miss Gale into bed.

  “I should go to the store,” Miss Gale said. “Jim needs me.”

  “Mr. Moody is fine,” I assured her. “I’m helping out this summer.”

  “Oh, Lord have mercy,” Miss Gale moaned, closing her eyes. “Please tell me you’re not messing up my food counter. It took me ages to get everything where I wanted it.”

  I smiled. “No, ma’am, I haven’t touched it. Mr. Moody has been doing the cooking.”

  Miss Gale moaned again. “That’s what I was afraid of most!”

  “Then you’ll have to get better,” Mara said. “So you can go back and chase him away from your counter.”

  Mara grinned at me and I tried not to laugh. It wasn’t a laughing situation at all, with Miss Gale as sick as she was, but Mara’s smile could make me forget everything else.

  Another smile flashed through my head for a moment and tingles spread over my body.

  “Dylan?”

  I blinked, focusing my thoughts on Mara in front of me. She looked at me like she was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

  “What?”

  Mara heaved a sigh and then shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll get it.”

  She left the room, leaving me standing by the bed, still holding the glass of salt water. Miss Gale’s head had fallen to the side and her eyes were closed. She breathed softly in her sleep. I set the glass down on the table next to her bed, then stepped out of the room.

  I had intended to find Mara and see if she needed help with whatever she was doing, but instead, my gaze fell on the door across from Miss Gale’s. It was closed and had probably been closed for the last two months.