Page 37 of Anchored to the Storm

“She didn’t.” He chewed until he noticed I had stopped, completely. His chin jutted. “Now what?”

“How do you know her name?” I shrieked.

He snarled, “Rude,” before explaining, “As I was saying,” he rolled his eyes, “after being sure you and Noma had no one tailing your car, I rushed back here. It was dark and rainy.”

Re-seeing the raindrops on the windows of the car I was hiding in, I nodded. “I remember that.”

“Maybe because I had just lost you two, I was half-terrified of what I would or wouldn’t see when I forced myself to walk to the seawall.” He stared off, as if reliving that night. “The water was dark. No magical beings.” His head drooped. “It broke my heart so deeply that my body caved. I sat down, letting my feet hang over the edge… and cried.” He peered up at the ceiling, fighting tears. “I cried out loud for my son, whom I had lost. For the woman I loved, who was racing away. For the grandson I may never see again… I cried for a failed dream.” He took a deep breath, then exhaled, now staring at the pizza in his hand. “That’s when I saw the prettiest little glowing green eyes in the night.”

I covered my mouth so that I wouldn’t scream pure joy. She was there. All along.

He nodded, wiping under his own eyes. “Yeah.” He blew out more air. “From under the water, she stared up at me, seafoam hair dancing around her little pixie face.”

Not uncovering my mouth, I only nodded. I remembered that light hair, now much darker.

I released my mouth when Styx ruffled my own hair. “Like you. First white hair to this dark mop.” He pushed my head away, playfully.

I loved hearing anything and everything about her. Small or major.

Styx continued, “Sitting on that wall, now crying even harder at the answered prayer, all I could do was wave and say ‘Hi’ like a bozo.” He chuckled. “Can you imagine? Seeing such beauty, such an unexplainable being, and waving like an idiot?”

Er… Kind of. “It is actually polite.”

Styx studied me, then leaned to the side. “Ya don’t say? You did it, too?”

I shoved pizza in my mouth. “Not a big deal.”

That had Gramps roaring with laughter.

Asshole.

Calming down, he finally added, “Well, that night, and others after, I promised her that my Baby Boy would come back to her someday.”

That was a shared nickname? I gawked at him. “You said ‘Baby Boy’?”

As if he wasn’t going to permit me to stop him from using that nickname, he said, “What’s it to ya?”

The connection to such simple words was uncanny. “I dreamt, while in the car with Noma, that Saleeni called me boy.” My chest filled with fresh air! “Gramps! I don’t think it was a dream. I think it was her reaching out to me—” From over the pizza box, I poked his chest, “—after hearing you!” Holy shit! “And she called me boy when we introduced ourselves the other night.” Utterly blessed, I eased into the wall at my back. “She knew I was your boy.”

His shoulders softening, he smiled. “That’s kind of cool.” He drifted into thought again before telling me, “It wasn’t right away, but after coming back to visit her regularly, and her refusing to talk, I figured she needed a name. From all I had seen, and what Noma told me about you—and what you had claimed to see in water, and what I was seeing in the water—I did more research. Then I found a word that encompasses such sights—illumination—but also spiritual light and intuition. It was Saleeni.

When I just stared at him in awe, he quietly asked, “Kind of seemed on point, don’t ya think?”

Some people may have seen my grandpa as a mean biker, clueless to how deep his heart truly went.

“Yeah,” I promised. “On point. For real.” A cough exited my tightening throat. “Thank you.”

The silence that followed was appreciated. It gave me time to digest all this, to find space to ask more questions, and learn more about the ‘oath’ or whatever being some sort of river guardian even meant.

The silence also gave Styx time to stare at me with a full-body cringe.

To repeat his words with a touch of humor, I asked, “What now?”

He blinked. “Have you noticed your slice of pie?”

“What the—” His whole container of anchovies had been dumped on my slice. “When did you do that?”

He blinked again. “Uh, I didn’t, silly rabbit.”