The Selkie of San Francisco

by Todd Calgi Gallicano

  To work around his mother’s unjust decree, Sam would try to use everything in his possession within a three-year time span. That way, when Ettie asked, Sam could answer honestly. Of course, Sam defined the word “use” quite liberally in this instance—often meaning he simply touched the belonging in question. This worked for exactly two “spring things” before Ettie got wise to her son’s ruse and began interrogating him.

  “Did you actually use it, or just pick it up and put it back down, Sam?” she would ask. At that point, Sam would capitulate and admit the truth. More recently he had begun initiating a new tack when dealing with his mother’s insistence on tossing his cherished possessions: he would purposely keep things he didn’t want anymore. This had the advantage of satisfying his mom’s thirst for getting rid of his stuff while allowing him to keep the things he really cared about. But he knew it was probably just a matter of time before she figured out his new scheme and began exacting more sacrifices.

  Sam sucked in a breath and ventured into the hallway. What he found shocked him. The attic access door in the hallway ceiling was open, and there was a stepladder placed beneath it. Despite a repeated promise to clean the cramped, unfinished storage space during the “spring thing,” his mother had always wound up getting too tired and would put it off for another year. The cramped unfinished storage space was chock-full of boxes, old vacuums, and who knew what else. And now it appeared that Ettie finally had the time to tackle it.

  “Nothing short of a miracle, huh?” Ettie said, finding Sam frozen in the hallway. Sam nodded, still staring in awe. “Well, I wouldn’t be able to get to the attic without your help this morning. I can’t thank you enough. You’re really such a good kid.” As she spoke those last few words, she smiled lovingly at Sam and mussed his hair.

  Sam couldn’t help but feel guilty for taking the credit for Nuks’s hard work. As a way of placating his conscience, Sam had begun responding to this sort of praise in an unusual manner.

  “I’ll let him know you said that,” Sam replied, to which his mom grinned.

  “Right, you do that.” Ettie laughed. She seemed amused at Sam’s new response and likely thought it was simply Sam being his goofy self. Sam didn’t necessarily mind being thought of as goofy, especially if it meant he could rest easier knowing he wasn’t stealing all the glory from his friend. “Oh, and while you’re telling yourself thanks, also tell yourself you’re late. We’re leaving for school in ten minutes, not a minute more,” Ettie added before slipping past Sam and heading for the stairs.

  “Okay. I just have to get dressed and eat something,” Sam replied.

  “Eat something?” Ettie stopped and asked with surprise. “You polished off all the doughnuts, and you’re still hungry? With the amount of sugar you ate, you should be able to run to school faster than I could drive you.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course. I was just joking,” Sam said quickly, trying to cover his misstep as he turned back toward his room. There he saw Nuks curled up near the window.

  “You didn’t save me any doughnuts?” he asked after closing the door. The raccoon-dog lifted his head slowly.

  “You wanted some?” he replied with a genuine innocence.

  “Of course. But you helped clean—you deserved them. I’ll just have to settle for some of that granola,” Sam said with a shrug. Nuks’s eyes widened in guilty surprise.

  “You wanted some?”

  * * *

  * * *

  It was not ten but twenty minutes later when Sam and Ettie finally emerged from the house, headed for school. Tashi was already waiting patiently by the car, as she had every day since Sam suggested to his mother that they give the new girl a ride to school. Ettie found the gesture sweet and interpreted it to mean that Sam had a crush. Sam’s adamant denials only further convinced Ettie that this was the case. If there was one upside to his mother’s false assumption, it was that she no longer referred to Nerida Nyx as Sam’s future wife. Nerida was a childhood friend whose mother happened to be Ettie’s best friend. Ettie teased Sam relentlessly about Nerida, so this was a nice, albeit annoying, change of pace.

  “Sorry we’re late, Tashi,” Ettie said, out of breath as she scrambled for her keys and unlocked the car. “It’s been a hectic morning.”

  Tashi climbed into the front seat while Sam jumped into the back. Although the passenger seat had always been Sam’s spot, he had relinquished it after an incident on the first day of carpooling, when he had yelled “shotgun” to stake his claim on the front seat. Tashi, being unfamiliar with the term, thought Sam was shouting a warning. In response, the Guardian switched into full-on protection mode and tackled him. It took a few minutes to explain the phrase and calm Tashi down. Ettie wasn’t sure what to make of it all until Sam convinced her it was a cultural misunderstanding—and that in Tashi’s village, the passenger seat is relegated to the female.

  As Ettie pulled the car out of the driveway with a light screech of rubber, Tashi glanced over at Sam’s mother.

  “Will you be late again on Monday?” the Guardian asked matter-of-factly.

  “Excuse me?” Ettie replied, surprised by the question.

  “We’ll be on time, I promise,” Sam piped in, trying to avoid an ugly situation. His mom looked back at him in the rearview mirror, and Sam gave her a shrug.

  “That is reassuring,” Tashi said. “It is neither honorable nor respectful to be tardy.”

  “Excuse me?” Ettie repeated, her voice clearly more irritated. Sam leapt back into the fray.

  “It’s cool, Mom. It’s just a cultural thing,” Sam explained, relying on his standard excuse for Tashi’s odd behavior.

  “Oh, right,” Ettie replied. “Of course.”

  Tashi peered back at Sam. “I don’t believe this to be—”

  Sam glared at Tashi, pleading with his eyes and placing a shushing finger to his lips. Tashi caught on. She turned toward Ettie and attempted to calm the proverbial waters.

  “Thank you for the ride, Ms. London,” Tashi offered with her singular slight smile. “You look very…pretty today,” she added awkwardly.

  “Thank you, Tashi,” Ettie said with a grin. Sam threw Tashi a secret thumbs-up, which she acknowledged with a small nod. Ettie continued, “You look pretty as well. Doesn’t she, Sam?”

  The relief he’d felt quickly vanished, and Sam fought to keep his cheeks from blushing. This was a typical Ettie ploy to force Sam into complimenting a female of his age. She used to do it constantly with Nerida, and it always led to an uncomfortable exchange. What could Sam do but agree?

  “Yes, she does,” Sam concurred.

  Tashi immediately shifted her eyes to Sam. Her expression was one of surprise, and her signature slight smile grew less slight. Ettie caught Sam’s eye in the mirror and winked, believing she was doing her part to help her son with his latest crush.

  Sam managed to avoid any more forced compliments for the rest of the car ride, and once they arrived, he headed toward the school, with Tashi a step or two behind. He had come to accept the Guardian following him like this, as it was certainly better than when she’d been at Sam’s side and everyone just assumed they were a couple. Sam had become sensitive to this notion ever since Nerida asked him about it. He would never admit this to anyone, but he didn’t like the idea of Nerida thinking he had a girlfriend. Of course, he wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself why he didn’t like that.

  Unfortunately, the few steps of separation between the pair didn’t seem to eliminate all speculation.

  “Sam and Tashi sitting in a tree…,” a trio of girls sang teasingly. Before they could finish their tired jibe, Tashi stopped walking and interrupted.

  “Sitting in a tree?” the Guardian asked thoughtfully. Then she quickly added, “If you are speaking of my time living in a tree in the place you call Benicia Park, I can assure you that Sam—”

&nbs
p; Before she had a chance to get out another word and embarrass both of them, Sam pulled her away. The Guardian was a formidable warrior, but she lacked any social savvy and as such remained completely oblivious to her tormentors’ mean-spirited ways.

  “Ignore them, Tashi,” he told her. “They’re just trying to upset you.”

  “Upset me?” she replied, appearing confounded.

  “Yeah,” Sam confirmed. “You know, make you feel bad about yourself. Hurt your feelings—”

  “By using words?” she asked, clearly still not getting it. Sam nodded. “And they are not banshees?”

  “No, Tashi, they aren’t banshees,” Sam replied, stifling a laugh. “Listen, don’t worry about it. It’s just one of those stupid human things.”

  Tashi nodded, as if suddenly understanding. “Ah yes,” she said. “Like the girls who paint their faces for reasons other than going into battle.”

  “Sure…,” Sam said slowly. “Sort of like that.” He was gradually coming to terms with the fact that there would be some aspects of his world that Tashi would never completely understand. But that was okay. There was plenty about Tashi’s culture and the world of mythical creatures that Sam would likely never fully comprehend either.

  “Did you hear from Dr. Vantana?” Tashi asked as they walked into the school.

  “Not yet,” Sam replied with disappointment, before leaving the Guardian to head to his locker.

  “Be mindful of your surroundings,” Tashi called out to him, like she did every day. He gave her a lethargic thumbs-up without turning around.

  When Sam reached his locker, he was surprised—and a little disheartened—to see that Nerida wasn’t there. She had the locker next to his and could always be found standing in front of it at the same time every morning. If it were any other student, it wouldn’t be all that strange, but Nerida never missed a day of school. In fact, she had gotten the perfect attendance award every year for as long as Sam could remember. Maybe she was late or had just gone to class early, he speculated. He’d probably see her at lunch in the library, since he’d been spending his lunchtimes there researching mythical creatures in order to be at the top of his game for the next case, and Nerida could always be found in the library on Fish Fridays. She was apparently highly allergic to seafood and had to self-quarantine indoors for the whole period. Without Nerida to grab his attention, Sam grabbed his books and was quickly off to start the school day.

  * * *

  * * *

  Sam’s last class before lunch was English with Mr. Canis, who was the human reincarnation of Sam’s cynocephalus friend, Chriscanis, the latter having returned to Gaia at the hands of the Beast of Gevaudan. Mr. Canis was halfway through the day’s lesson when the unthinkable happened.

  “Sam?” a muffled voice said, jolting Sam out of a daydream. He sat up straight and looked to his teacher attentively.

  “Yes?” Sam answered.

  “Yes, what?” Mr. Canis replied.

  “You called my name,” Sam said. The rest of the class broke out into a smattering of giggles.

  “I did not,” Mr. Canis said. “Perhaps you misheard me.”

  “Oh…sorry,” Sam apologized, feeling embarrassed. He chalked it up to his daydream and focused back on the lesson.

  “Sam?” the muffled voice called out again, this time sounding anxious. Sam suddenly realized it was not coming from his teacher or his daydream—it was emanating from the DMW badge in his book bag. He scrambled to find the device before the voice of Dr. Vantana spoke again. Unfortunately, he pulled it out just as the doctor decided to try once more.

  “Sam London!” the doctor shouted, the button almost jumping out of Sam’s hand. The anxiety in Vantana’s voice had been replaced with irritation. Sam’s classmates were now all staring at him. Most were shocked by the flagrant rule-breaking, while a few others watched excitedly for the imminent confrontation with Mr. Canis like the incident was some kind of spectator sport. Sam quickly brought the badge up to his mouth and whispered, “Hang on.”

  “Mr. London—is there a problem?” Mr. Canis asked as he walked around his desk and approached Sam.

  “No, sir. But I was wondering if I might use the restroom.”

  “What’s that in your hand?” the teacher inquired.

  “My hand? Uh…n-n-nothing,” Sam stammered.

  “Let me see it,” Mr. Canis demanded firmly. Sam felt a knot in the pit of his stomach as he handed the badge over, crossing his fingers and wishing for it to keep quiet. The teacher took the badge and examined it.

  “It’s just a toy. I must have forgotten to turn it off,” Sam explained, hoping it wouldn’t draw any further scrutiny. But Mr. Canis appeared intrigued by the item.

  “A toy?” he wondered, as if not quite buying it. His eyes zeroed in on the inscription. “Department of—”

  “Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” Sam interjected, fearing the doctor would call again at any moment. He whispered to the teacher, “I gotta go pretty bad. Number one, number two, and maybe even number three.” This spurred a smile from Mr. Canis.

  “Oh dear,” the teacher whispered back. “You’d best get a move on, then. Grab the hall pass on the way out.”

  As Sam stood up, he gestured to the badge. “Can I?” Mr. Canis eyed his pupil with suspicion. “I promise you won’t see it ever again. Second chance?” Sam added with a pleading smile. Mr. Canis considered it, then slowly handed the badge over.

  “No third chances.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” Sam said with seriousness.

  The second Sam reached the bathroom, he pulled the badge back out, pressed the shiny metal face, and spoke.

  “Dr. Vantana? Are you still there? It’s Sam London.” A moment later the doctor answered.

  “My apologies, Sam,” Vantana said in his signature Southern drawl. “I forgot about school. Do you need me to ring you up later?”

  Sam had already waited long enough to hear anything from the doctor—he wasn’t going to wait any longer.

  “No, sir. How can I help?”

  “Well, we’ve got ourselves a bit of a situation,” Vantana replied.

  “What kind of situation?” Sam asked.

  “The kind that’s made its way into the news. We’re on the case, kid, and I’m on my way.”

  Sam London was practically levitating with excitement. After finally hearing from Dr. Vance Vantana about a new case, it was time to spring into action. Vance had informed Sam that he’d pick him up at lunchtime, which was in only half an hour, and he was bringing Nuks with him, since the raccoon-dog’s Sam London substitution services would be required. Sam would meet Nuks in the school library, where they would stealthily make the switch.

  Although Dr. Vantana had mentioned that what they’d be investigating had made the news, Sam had no time to go online or find a TV to get a sneak preview. He still had to sit through the remainder of Mr. Canis’s class without upsetting his teacher any further. So he sat up straight and did his best to listen—or, rather, pretend to listen. The suspense was making it nearly impossible for him to concentrate. After all, the last time an event involving a mythical creature had made its way into the news, it had been Sam’s encounter with the gryphon. And that was because their meeting led to a chain-reaction collision and massive explosion.

  When the school bell rang for lunch, Sam catapulted himself out of his chair and sprinted to his locker. As expected, Tashi was waiting for him. She always waited at Sam’s locker at lunchtime so she could accompany him to the cafeteria.

  “Vantana contacted me,” Sam reported enthusiastically.

  “A mission?” Tashi asked, intrigued. Sam nodded and stuffed his books into his locker.

  “He said it was something that made the news,” Sam said, then turned and headed for the library. Tashi followed closely. “He’s picking me up in a fe
w minutes. I’m meeting Nuks in the library so that he can—”

  “The doctor is picking both of us up,” Tashi interjected. Sam stopped.

  “No, Tashi,” Sam replied. “You can’t leave campus without a really good excuse.”

  “I have a plan,” Tashi said confidently, and she continued toward the library. Sam walked alongside her.

  “If your plan has anything to do with faking an illness, you can just forget it,” Sam informed her. “Our school nurse used to be in the Russian military. Kyle from gym said she was responsible for making sure the soldiers who faked injuries to avoid combat were sent to the front lines. She has a nose for it. Tim Nelson, an eighth grader, perpetrated this elaborate scheme where he convinced everyone, even his parents, that he had chicken pox, just so he could stay home for a video game tournament. Nurse Orlova not only logged in to the game to beat him, but she went on to win the title, then snuck over to his house and dumped a big bucket of soapy water over him to prove that his so-called chicken pox were just dots from a red marker.” Tashi’s eyebrow raised for a brief moment as she came to a halt in front of the entrance to the library.

  “You believe this tall tale?” she asked.

  “I’ve seen photographic evidence, and the point is, pretending to be sick won’t work.”

  “I appreciate the warning, but it will not be a problem,” Tashi asserted. “Now let’s go meet Nuks. We don’t want to keep the doctor waiting.” She entered the library, and Sam sighed heavily before following her. What does the Guardian have up her sleeve? he wondered.