Syleen had taken Lelas back to the Chromis in hopes that being with the rest of her family and tribe might aid her recovery. Lelas had embraced me as I left her but hadn’t said any words, as even that act seemed like it took all her force of will. It was more than I’d expected, and I was grateful. More than ever, I was clear on the fact that we had no guarantees we would see each other again.
On my way back toward the other beaches, I noticed a couple who had swum out and crawled up onto a small flat mound of rocks quite a distance from shore. Both were naked, and from the sounds they were making, they weren’t planning on returning anytime soon. They were quite a ways from the beach, so I felt safe in assuming that, unless they’d only worn their swim suits on the hike down from the beach town, their clothes were somewhere near the shore, hidden in the trees.
The mere seconds it took for me to reach land confirmed my swimming speed had increased beyond what I could have imagined ever mastering before.
Trying to stay low, I continued to swim until my stomach scratched along the sand and the small waves crashed over my back. With a glance to make sure the couple was still distracted, I pushed myself up into a standing position.
Instantly, I crashed back down into the water. In a panic, I turned toward the couple. The sound of the surf must have masked any noise my fall had made.
This time, I maneuvered myself into a kneeling position. Even then, it was all I could do to stay upright. The waves didn’t help. With each one, I had to shove myself up again. It didn’t hurt, but it was as if my body had forgotten how to be upright without the buoyancy of the water around me.
I tried to stand a couple more times but wasn’t successful. I could still hear the couple, and from the cries issuing from the woman, I knew time was running short. No way was I going to be able to walk into the jungle and find their clothes before they noticed me.
In frustration I glanced at the beach before I gave up, and there they were. A small bundle of clothes folded neatly beneath a bush where the foliage met the sand. I’d been so focused on the area directly in front of me in my effort to stand, I hadn’t noticed.
Without looking back, I began to crawl toward the clothes. Crawling was significantly easier, but even so, I felt like I’d been shot with a tranquilizer gun. I wobbled on my hands and knees, unable to move in a straight line.
I’d made it within an arm’s length of the clothes when I heard the man cry out like he’d just made a touchdown. If the girl with him was a new partner, I was willing to bet she wouldn’t sleep with him again after his string of self-applauding epithets. I grabbed the only article of clothing that looked like it might belong to a guy. The other material was bright yellow and pink. With the tan fabric in my hand, I half crawled, half rolled back into the water and was well out of sight within seconds.
Back out where it was deep enough that I couldn’t see the ocean floor from where I floated just under the surface, I inspected my prize. Cargo shorts. Perfect. I slid them over my legs, my big toe hindering the process by getting stuck in some internal pocket attached to the waistband. Once they were up, it took a moment for my fingers to readjust to securing buttons. Luck really was on my side, as the shorts still had the red-and-white drawstring attached, which was necessary as the man was apparently quite a bit thicker in the waist.
Feeling a rather pathetic amount of pride, considering all I’d done was steal a pair of shorts, I began swimming back in the direction of the beach town. After several strokes, I became aware of how much harder it was to swim with clothes on and that something was digging into my hip.
Reaching around, I pulled a wallet out of the back pocket. The thing was huge, probably six inches long. No wonder it had gotten in the way. I dropped it in frustration, glad to be rid of the annoyance.
Before I’d taken more than a couple of strokes, I realized what I had just done and darted back, having to dive down to retrieve the black leather case. Time to start thinking like a human again.
Sure enough, when I opened the wallet, a wad of cash was revealed. Glancing through it, I found well over a hundred dollars. Releasing the drawstring once more, I slipped the money into the internal pocket I’d been irritated by earlier, then retightened the drawstring.
I fingered through the front pockets of the wallet—the thing looked like a miniature desk drawer organizer. I took out two of the credit cards and the driver’s license, then noticed another opening near the top of the wallet. I slipped my fingers inside and pulled out the man’s passport. Maybe Moheetla really was watching out for me. I’d hit the jackpot. Before the thought fully formed, I sent the deity a curse. Providing a wallet hardly compensated for what Lelas had to face. I pushed Wrell from my mind as soon he tried to get in. No way I was going there right now.
Tilting the passport toward the light, I was able to read the words. Even seeing print was a strange experience. Something so commonplace now felt utterly alien. The shorts had belonged to a Chris Stewart from Texas. From his picture, though a little on the heavy side, I realized he had more chance of a second hookup from the girl than I’d first thought. He was cute and, luckily, blond. If worse came to worst and I needed to use his credit card, I could be mistaken for the guy. I could explain away the different appearance on a weight loss. Maybe if the clerk was a little buzzed or simply didn’t care, I wouldn’t even have to do that.
Stuffing the credit cards, license, and passport into the pocket they’d come from, I buttoned the flap. The pocket still bulged, but nothing like it had before, and its pressure was reassuring, making me feel like I was off to a good start. Even if I couldn’t stand. I let the wallet and remaining assortment of cards find their way down to the bottom of the ocean, watching as the dark rectangle vanished into the deep.
Once again, I returned to my course toward the town, feeling surprisingly optimistic. Things seemed to be turning around. I hadn’t even made it out of the water, and I already had clothes, money, and identity. True, I couldn’t stand yet, but surely that wouldn’t take long. All in all, not bad.
This time, I wasn’t able to keep Wrell’s handsome face from flooding my mind, Nalu a shadow right behind him. Was I supposed to feel guilty for this particle of good fortune? I knew Wrell would be glad for everything that could help release the mers. Still…
Though I kept getting caught up in the moment now that I was focused on getting to land, each time Wrell came into my mind, the pain seemed double what it had been when I was with Lelas and Therin. I kept finding my thoughts traveling down the road that someone I was in love with had been killed. I suppose labels shouldn’t make his passing better or worse, but they did. In the course of things, I had to admit to myself fully that I really had been falling in love with him. True, he didn’t feel the same and never would have. Nothing could have ever come of it. My feelings for him didn’t make his death more tragic. However, I couldn’t help fantasizing I’d lost more than a friend and fellow tribe member. To make it even better, guilt over such selfish thoughts after what he’d sacrificed for me made the ache over him even worse.
I’d beenright. Standing didn’t take long. I was able to pull it off on the next try. Walking, however, was a completely different story. To be more honest, not so much walking, as taking a step.
I was glad I’d come ashore before the beach town, still a little ways into the jungle. After falling so much that my knees began to hurt, I resorted to crawling up the beach yet again. Once I reached the jungle, I used the trees to pull myself into a standing position. Keeping my hands on a tree, I slowly walked around its circumference. Even so, I kept falling, my hands and knees bloody from crashing into the tree roots. My joints screamed in pain with every step.
By the time night fell, I still wasn’t able to walk without assistance, but at least I’d quit falling, as long as I held onto a tree for dear life.
Finally, giving up, I returned to the ocean and swam out to a distant rock outcropping. Removing the shorts, I secured them between the rocks, tying the strings to a piece of driftwood securely wedged in the stones.
Sinking beneath the surface, I descended to where the mass of rocks met the sand, let the water soothe my aching body, and fell asleep.
Twenty-Eight
BRETT WRIGHT
By lateevening of the next day, I slipped back into the ocean as weary as if I’d run two marathons since waking that morning—crashedinto the ocean would be more appropriate. After tripping over the same tree root six times, ripping a gash over my right shin, pulling out a family of thorns from my palms, and endlessly cursing, I was walking. Congratulations, Daddy Therin, your baby boy can walk. Now on to housetraining.
As ever, the water offered instant solace, and while not healed, I didn’t feel like my limbs were going to break off from my body either. If walking had been such a labor-intensive task, one I hadn’t foreseen, I was worried what else I’d taken for granted was waiting to surprise me. The stretch of jungle I’d practiced in had been several hundred feet from the trail that I assumed led from the town to the small strip of beaches I’d noticed the day before. While I’d been able to see people as they traveled back and forth, and a variety of languages and accents drifted over through the vegetation, enough space was between us that I simply looked like another tourist wandering off the trail. The first time someone noticed me, I ducked to the ground, as adrenaline shot through me, once again forgetting we were the same damned species and the only thing that made me look weird was ducking every time I saw someone. That and the endless falling and grunting. Even that probably wasn’t too strange. I could just be another tourist enjoying his vacation by getting wasted on the beach.
