by Aaron Galvin
Kellen closed his eyes. Rested his head against the bars. This isn’t happening. Can’t be happening.
“Lemme outta here. I got my rights and I want me a phone call!”
I know that voice. Kellen sat up, hearing the whir of the hydraulic system and cage rattle above him again.
Inside the cage, Kellen saw Boone Merchant. The spindly old man’s thin hair was plastered against his forehead and his clothes sopped water. He had pressed his face against the bars and the Sea Lion that Bryant insistently referred to as his partner sat next to him.
“Lower away,” the fisherman called out.
“Hey, Mister,” Boone yelled. “Mister! Cain’t you lemme outta here? Someone done confused me for a seal and put me in here with one.”
“It’s a Sea Lion, Gramps,” said the fisherman as he guided the cage down beside Kellen’s. “Ya can tell by the flippers and the ears.”
“Seal, sea lion, I don’t care. I’s s’posed to be in the drunk tank in Lavere County Jail, sleeping off this hangover. The sheriff hisself said I could stay there!”
The fisherman unhooked the chains. “Tell ya what. I’ll let ya out when the sheriff shows up.”
Boone nodded. “All right, then. You call up Sheriff Dick Hullinger and tell him I’s here and waitin’ on him.”
“Whateva ya say, old timer.” The fisherman counted the cages. Nodded. Whistled to his partner. “Let’s get some lunch.”
Kellen watched the two men walk away. Once they were gone, he went to the edge of his cage. “Boone!”
The scarecrow of a man grinned at Kellen. “Well, hot dog. You’s in my dream too!” Boone chewed his lip, looked at the Sea Lion nuzzling his hand with its nose. “Well, would you look at that? This ol’ boy likes me!” Boone pet the Sea Lion’s head. “Sure do wish I could wake up. ‘Spect I’ll still have this hangover though.”
“Boone!”
“Yeah?”
Kellen sighed. “It’s not a dr—”
“Yes it is,” Bryant interrupted, joining him at the bars. “This is all a big dream, Boone.”
What is he talking about?
“Well, who are you, mister?” Boone asked. “Ain’t never seen you before.”
“My name’s David. I’m a…a magician.”
Boone’s eyes went round. “Your last name Copperfield?”
Oh, God.
“Yeah,” Bryant lied. “And I need your help, Boone.”
“Well, shoot. You tell me what to do, Mr. Copperfield. Always did wanna meet you!”
Bryant licked his lips. “Okay, I want to take hold of that sea lion’s upper lip—”
“You want me to put my hand in that there seal’s mouth?”
“Yeah.”
Boone shook his head. “No, sir. I ain’t never been around no seals before. What’s to keep this ol’ boy from biting my hand clean off?”
“He won’t.” Bryant promised.
The Sea Lion nuzzled Boone’s cheek to get his attention, then shook its head as if to say it had no intentions of biting him. Then it yawned its mouth open wide.
Boone’s jaw went slack. “Well, ain’t he a smart one?”
“Do it, Boone,” said Kellen. “Do what he says.”
Boone did so warily. He winced at first touching the animal’s lip, but the Sea Lion waited patiently. “A-all right,” said Boone. “Now what?”
“Grab hold of his lip and tug up, then peel it back over the sea lion’s head…think of it like taking a baseball hat off someone’s head.”
“Do what?”
“There’s a man inside, Boone.” Bryant coached. “You’ll see.”
Boone scratched his head with his free hand. “Don’t reckon I know how you got some feller to fit inside there. Guess that’s why I ain’t no magician, huh?”
“Boone!” said Kellen.
“All right then. I’ma doing it.” Boone pulled up on the Sea Lion’s lip, then carried the motion over its head. Both he and Kellen gasped as the Sea Lion head peeled away like removing a hood.
Kellen heard the other prisoners take notice, whisper in foreign languages. One woman screamed. The rest watched with the same awed expression Kellen did as the changes swept over the Sea Lion’s body, changing from skin to fabric.
In seconds, the Sea Lion vanished, replaced by a grizzled older man in what resembled a tannish, one-piece sweatpant suit with a hood draped down his back. The old man looked at Boone, nodded. “Thanks, partner.”
“Holy crow.” Boone fainted.
The other marshal from the jail. Kellen thought.
“Ed,” said Bryant, extending his left hand through the bars to shake the older man’s.
“Bryant.” Edmund shook.
“How did…” Kellen sputtered. “How did you know to do that?”
“Told you he’s my partner,” said Bryant. “We’ve been at this awhile.”
“You can wear the Salt form easily enough, pup,” said Edmund. “It’s the getting back that’s the trick. Need someone to release you. Make you human again.”
Kellen looked at the other seals and sea lions in cages. They’re all human inside? Waiting on someone to release them?
“Sorry to hear about your son, Ed,” said Bryant.
Edmund looked at Kellen, then back to Bryant. “This pup tell you all about it?”
“Yeah. Said Oscar Collins did the shooting.”
Edmund nodded. “I mean to repay him for that. His no-account father too. Who was it bagged you?”
“Dolan. Came in while I was interviewing the Orc. Shot me with some kinda tranq,” said Bryant. “I figure—”
“Look,” Kellen cut in. “I get that you two are friends and all, but how about we talk about escape.”
“There’s no getting out of here,” Edmund said grimly. “Not yet anyway.”
“Why not?”
“You have a key I don’t know about?”
Kellen glared at him.
“I thought not. ‘Sides, I’m not going anywhere until I get my hands on Collins—”
“Ed—”
“And strangle the life out of him,” said Edmund, his eyes glazing. “My face will be the last thing he ever sees. Then, we’ll talk about escape.”
“That’s great,” said Kellen. “Perfect! Let’s just sit here and accept this.”
“That’s right.”
“Well, I don’t. Okay? I don’t!”
Edmund sat with his back to them.
Kellen punched the bars.
“Ed.” Bryant knelt with a groan. “Talk to me. Is there nothing we can do?”
Edmund nodded. “Wait…”
“For what?” Kellen snarled. “Those fishermen to come back and beat us up some more?”
“Wait to be Salted.”
GARRETT
The yacht engine had long since quieted and Oscar fallen asleep on a couch, when Garrett heard the click of the door lock opening.
Fenton stood outside it, harpoon gun in hand. He trained its aim on Garrett. “It’s time.” Fenton jerked the harpoon at Oscar. “Wake him up. Now.”
Garrett obeyed.
Oscar groaned. “Wh-what is it now? Time for breakfast already?” He sat up. Rubbed sleep from his eyes and he sat up straighter upon seeing he and Garrett were not alone. “Fenton?”
“You’re to come with me, young master,” said Fenton. “Your friend too.”
Garrett nearly spoke out to remind Fenton that he and Oscar weren’t friends. A second look at the harpoon made him think otherwise. He followed Oscar’s lead out onto the deck.
The moon shone larger than back home and the yacht’s gentle shake gave Garrett the impression the stars moved.
A lighthouse loomed in the distance, its swirling light warding off the dark and fog.
Garrett surveyed the upper deck. A few men in sopping, hooded wetsuits stood watch. Two more occupied the captain’s quarters where Garrett last saw Paulo. Like in the warehouse, he recognized none of these hooded men would help him. He felt
nudged toward the starboard side where the railing gate hung open. Garrett took a step closer and peered over the side.
An inflated rubber life raft bobbed in the choppy water next to the yacht. Inside it, Lenny Dolan glowered with his arms crossed.
“Get in,” Fenton commanded.
Garrett glanced over his shoulder. “Are you nuts? I’m not—”
Fenton dug the tip of the harpoon into Garrett’s shoulder. “Get…in.”
“Come on, Weava,” said Lenny. “It’s gonna be all right. Do what he says. Prove ya know how to listen.”
Garrett trembled. “N-no. I-I can’t…I can’t s-swim!”
“Fenton,” said Oscar. “What’s going on? Why are you doing this?”
“Your father wants to make sure he’s safe.”
“Safe?” Garrett’s voice cracked. “What do you even mean? I won’t hurt—”
“Of course he’s safe,” said Oscar. “I spent the last several hours alone with him. Don’t you think if he wanted to kill me he’d have done it by now?”
A sharp kick in the back sent Garrett plummeting into the raft. He nearly spilled over the far side. A wave crashed into the raft, wetting Garrett’s face, soaking him. He tasted salt in his mouth. Spat it out.
“Whattaya gotta do that for, Boss?” Lenny yelled. “Weava’s not gonna hurt nobody. Didn’t I say so?”
“Following orders, Dolan.” Fenton tossed the casting line into the raft next to Garrett. “I suggest you do the same.”
Garrett heard the gate clang closed, then a whistle.
The yacht motor roared as it pulled away from the raft.
“No!” Garrett spun to reach for it. “Please. Come back!”
Lenny pulled him back. “They’re not gonna listen.”
“Let go of me!”
Oscar waved. “It’ll be all right, Garrett. I promise! I’ll see you at home soon!”
“Oscar,” Garrett cried. “Don’t leave me here!”
The motors thrummed, kicked up a fountain of ocean water, and headed off.
Garrett continued yelling even as the yacht became a speck in the darkness.
“I know ya not askin’ for advice or nuthin’”—Lenny lay against the rubber siding, hands behind his head, feet crossed—“but ya might as well relax.”
“You…” Garrett glared at him. “This is your fault. You did this!”
“For what it’s worth,” said Lenny, “I neva thought it’d go this way.”
“Oh, you mean stuck in a…a…a life raft in the middle of the freaking ocean?”
Lenny nodded. “Looks that way, don’t it.”
“It is that way!” Garrett collapsed between the inflated seats. Up and down the small raft bobbed. Garrett’s stomach lurched each time. “Why, Lenny? Why did you bring me here?”
“It’s a hard thing to understand. Harder still to try and explain it.”
“Try. Might as well since we’re going to die out here.”
“Nah,” said Lenny, fingering his black hood. “We’re not.”
Garrett thought back to the Indy Zoo and the shark tank. How he had seen Lenny transform. “Y-you can change.”
Lenny nodded. “It’s like Boss Fenton said. They wanna make sure ya safe is all.”
“I don’t get it. Why would I want to hurt anyone? I just want to go home.”
“That’s the spirit. Ya gotta keep that in mind from here on out.”
“Why should I listen to anything you say?” Garrett asked.
Lenny shrugged. “I’m the only one out here to talk ya through what comes next, pal.”
Garrett glanced at the choppy water. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“Ya know what I mean.” Lenny spat over the side. “Time to get wet, Weava.”
A wave rocked the raft.
“Ah!” Garrett’s hands shot to either side of the raft for balance.
“A little water’s not gonna hurt ya.” Lenny mocked. “Not by a long shot.”
“Shut up!” said Garrett.
The bottom of the raft bulged upward, then moved opposite the waves.
Garrett’s eyes widened. “Wh-what was that!”
Lenny scrambled to the starboard side. “Hey, hey, hey!”
Garrett watched the little man lean so far over he feared Lenny might fall overboard.
Lenny didn’t. Instead, he smacked the water. “Enough already, Paulie!”
Garrett watched Lenny kick his legs against the side to leverage himself back into the raft.
Falling into his seat again, Lenny brushed seawater from his brow. “Ya know, not for nuthin’, but why don’t ya get in the water? Make this easier on us all.”
Again, Garrett felt the raft move from the unseen presence below. This time, he saw sparks of light—both from studs in Lenny’s ears.
“Hey!” Lenny yelled at the water. “I said enough. Give him some time will ya?”
The little man’s earrings sparkled again.
What are those? Garrett wondered.
“Look, Weava,” said Lenny. “Ya goin’ in no matta what. Might as well be ya choice.”
Garrett shivered. “Are you nuts? That’s the ocean, man! Did you not hear me back at the pier? I…can’t…swim!”
“Yeaaah.” Lenny looked Garrett up and down. “I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.”
Garrett spied something dark surface ten away from the boat. It growled and snorted, then disappeared beneath the waves again. “Wh-what the heck was that!”
Lenny scrambled for the side again. “Paulie! Stop scarin’ the kid!”
“Wh-who are you talking to?” Garrett asked. “Th-there’s no one out here. No one but us.”
“Ya sure about that?”
Garrett hesitated, but glanced over the side at the choppy water.
Lenny’s earrings flashed again as he donned his black hood. “Time’s almost up. Ya gonna jump in or not?”
“No way I’m going in the water,” said Garrett. “Not a chance.”
Lenny frowned. “Ya really wanna know why Boss Fenton had us bring ya out here?”
“Us?” Garrett watched Lenny take something from his sweatshirt pocket that caught the moonlight.
Is that a knife? Garrett recoiled to the furthest reaches of the raft.
“’Cause there’s only one way to get back,” Lenny said. “Sink or swim time, Weava.”
“I can’t swim.”
“Ya can…and ya will.”
“I’m telling you—” Garrett heard his voice crack. “I can’t swim!”
“All right.” Lenny plunged his dagger into the raft side.
“No!”
A sudden hiss of escaping air drowned out Garrett’s cry. He watched Lenny stab at the raft again and again, widen the first hole and create new ones even as water spilt over the side.
“Stop!” Garrett yelled, reaching for Lenny, not daring to cross the empty space of raft between them. Fear huddled him to his side where air pressure remained.
“See ya in the Salt, Weava!” Lenny pocketed the dagger. Then the little man began to change. The black hood melted over his face. The sweatshirt enveloped his arms.
Garrett’s screams didn’t stop Lenny’s changes. Within seconds, a tiny seal with white circles across its black backside shared the raft with Garrett. The seal motioned its head toward the water.
“G-go away!” Garrett shouted.
Again, the seal looked toward the ocean.
“Leave me alone!”
The seal growled, then slipped out of the raft into the water.
Alone, with the ocean waves pounding the raft sides, Garrett immediately regretted his claim. “Lenny…” Garrett whispered. “Lenny, come back.”
Please come back. Don’t leave me alone.
Garrett’s foot felt wet. He looked down as ocean water overtook Lenny’s side of the raft and rush its way toward him. Garrett tried to stand.
The move dipped his end of the raft, hurried the water and pooled it at his feet.
&
nbsp; Garrett sat down again. “Is anyone out there? Please. Help me! Help!”
Again, something nudged the raft from underneath.
What is that thing? Garrett’s imagination conjured up the shark-man at the Indianapolis Zoo. His scythe-like tail swaying back and forth and his jagged teeth patiently waiting to rend Garrett apart.
He glanced at the water, steadily working its way to overtake his end of the raft, then leaned over the side as it reached his knees. Garrett thrashed at the ocean in a poor attempt at paddling.
A black seal head porpoised not ten feet away.
Is that…Lenny?
“Wh-what do you want me to do?” Garrett asked.
The seal lay on its side. Used its flipper to smack the water.
“No…”
The seal barked several times. Clacked it jaws.
“I can’t!” Garrett cried.
The seal growled, then disappeared again.
Where did he—
The raft upended beneath Garrett. Toppled him backward into the ocean.
No! Garrett opened his eyes. The salt stung them. He vaguely saw shadows encircle him, darting in and out of what little moonlight penetrated the watery surface.
Kick! Kick!
Garrett tried, but went nowhere. Blackness swirled in his mind as he spun to decipher up from down. He choked again, his lungs begging for air. His brain ordered him take a breath.
Salt water filled his mouth.
Garrett swallowed it down involuntarily.
A comforting itch started in his toes, worked its way up his shins.
Garrett swallowed another mouthful of salt water. Then another. And another.
The cold disappeared as the itch sped up to his waist.
A seal with white circles swam inches from Garrett’s face. Weava. Lenny’s voice echoed in Garrett’s mind. Why are ya still changin’? Why haven’t ya stopped?
Garrett’s arms lazed to his sides. The tickle moved faster. Enveloped his fingertips.
Weava! Stop changin’ already. Ya’ve gone far enough!
Garrett’s mind screamed for air.
The itch invaded his head. Fiery warmth quaked through him. His tongue felt fatter, wider. Teeth elongated. His panic vanished, replaced by an eerie calm. Confident awareness. How had he not known which way was up or down before? Light or no light, the ocean held no such secrets now.
