Seals of Kinney
Page 8
When it was full dark, the pair worked in tandem, using a small boat to tow the carcass far away from their dock, out into the middle of the bay. There, they left McMare to feed the blue crabs and never ever bother them again.
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“It was nice of Carl and Sheila to drop the puppy off at their vet while you were in the hospital,” Fisk remarked as he passed the fluffy creature to his boyfriend. He had just returned from retrieving the animal—the neighbours had assumed it belonged to them—from the animal hospital they used for their pets.
“Yes, it was,” Boyd agreed, cuddling the young dog in his lap.
“Are we keeping him?” Fisk slid onto the sofa beside his lover.
“If you don’t mind,” Boyd answered hopefully.
“He can stay. I’m not normally a dog person. They tend distrust my kind. But he seems okay with me. What are you going to name him?”
“Isle.”Boyd nodded thoughtfully, smiling when Fisk’s head snapped up from watching the puppy nibble on his fingers.
“Why Isle?” Colwin slowly made a funny half smile. He was pretty certain he understood but wanted Boyd to verify it.
“I remembered it was carved into the mantle in your cottage. I think that would be a reminder of where we started,” Boyd explained.
Fisk’s smile widened cheerfully. “That was the name of the man who built it. He was a mainlander, retired off a fishing boat, a widower. Nice guy. I remember him coming into the village when I was a kid. It’s common knowledge on Kinney that McMare’s father and few of the other men murdered him. I think it’s a fitting name. A remembrance not only of home, but someone who never got justice.”
“Do you feel any guilt... over how everything turned out?” Boyd was smiling when the ball of fur yawned, curled up on him and fell asleep. “I have to admit I don’t feel bad you did it, that was pure self defence. But I will always feel wrong about hiding the body. I understand why we had to. To protect your secret. But it’s going to be a while before that stops haunting me.”
“I don’t have guilt over what happened to McMare. He forced it on himself. I have some regret over taking a life. But yours is more valuable than his was in every conceivable way, so that vastly outweighs that burden for me,” Fisk answered honestly, snuggling into Boyd’s side. “I am sorry you had to do that for me,” he said more softly, contrition in his voice for making Boyd bend his principals, which had been lacking when he spoke of the death.
“I’ll learn to live with it.” Boyd leaned over to kiss Fisk’s temple. “Do you think more will come? The selkies that chased us that night, or any of the others?”
“I don’t think so. Not if they didn’t come with him in the first place. He was the force behind them, just like his father was before him. I assume my mother was right. We hurt his standing as the dominant bull by injuring and evading him. I believe that is why he was alone when he went to see Francine, and then when he came here. They may hate us, but they won’t leave their haven to hunt us. Especially not without him to goad them,” Fisk said.
Boyd slid an arm around Fisk. Their personal ordeal was finally ending. That thought made Boyd smile. They could truly settle in and build a life together without the shadow of Kinney hanging over their heads. “Tomorrow we will call Francine. Tell her it’s over.”
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For Fisk, Cyril and Francine—escape over with and new lives undertaken—their part in the history of the Kinney Islands was mostly complete.
She went on to be an award-winning actress, but no matter how high her star climbed, Francine never lost touch with Boyd and Colwin.
The two married, raised a family and enjoyed successful careers. Colwin would just smile when neighbours sometimes claimed they saw his husband and their dog swimming with a seal on bright moonlit nights.
What the trio never realized was that they had unwittingly begun a revolution. It started with Fisk’s cousin. He and his friends began to gather at night in Fisk’s old cottage. They told tales of the escape, read Fisk’s abandoned books to each other, and yearned for the world outside their tiny community.
That first band of disaffected teens then spread their dissent throughout the youth of Kinney. The elders burned the cottage, thinking to discourage the quiet rebellion, but the flames only served to further kindle the hearts of their children against them.
The older teens took the example of their heroes and began to flee the islands. Sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs or small groups. They formed small expatriate enclaves up and down the coast. Taking examples from those who had fled mainland rural religious communities like the Amish, they set up an underground network to assist other selkie kin who wanted to live in the modern world. It was clear that eventually the culture of that tiny archipelago would become extinct with only a few bitter old seals to mourn it.