Fins 4 Ur Sins

by Naomi Fraser

  My heart pinches. This is Lakyn’s manual given to him by his parents, and he’s learnt all this since seven years of age. I blink back tears, thinking of myself at seven. I was probably playing with dolls. I draw up my knees and hug them. Maybe it is better for him to be a human? Sweat beads my nape and moistens my collar. My arms hang at my sides. Why would his parents give him this book at seven and be so proud?

  I suppress another shiver but my toes tingle. I can’t imagine the courage Lakyn must possess to go against everything he’s been taught—to follow his own path. And they kicked him out for his perceived sin of showing compassion; from doing what’s right rather than what’s easy.

  Frowning, I slide the unsettling book back into my bag and rub my sweating hands on my skirt. I reach for the second book, thumb to the back of Finfolk Lore & Transformations and run my finger down the index, not sure what I’m looking for until my finger stops.

  Changing Humans.

  I must appear like a clown statue at the bus stop with my mouth open. Well, I’m breathing easily at least. Little things, little things. Marks fill the top corners of the page where dirty fingers have grasped the book. The subject spans twenty pages with notes in corners and scribbled corrections, pictures, plus extra dates.

  Lakyn’s notes. His clues.

  I continue to read the rest of the section all the way to school.

  ≈≈≈

  “HAVE YOU SEEN Lakyn?” I ask Bethany at second break, munching on a muesli bar. “I’m trying to find him, but he’s not answering my texts.”

  “No, I haven’t.” Her head tilts to the side, and she takes a bite of her salad sandwich. Shredded carrot and lettuce fall out from two slices of whole wheat bread and land in her lap. She brushes them off with a growl of frustration. “Maybe he’s sick?” She cuts me a sly grin. “Not that I blame him after yesterday. I thought about staying home myself this morning. A dead faint deserves a day off.”

  “You?” My eyebrows rise. “You go to school in your dreams. Have nightmares if you think about skipping. What—” I dodge a flying crust and laugh, leaning back on my hands, making sure she doesn’t have any more ammunition. Bethany loves school, and her enthusiasm makes it easier for me to show up.

  She frowns and shifts. “Ow.” Then she pulls out a rock from beneath her butt and tosses it into the trees. We sit on the lawn near the business block inside school grounds. I much prefer that than sitting on the cold steel seats where a few students eat lunch nearer the walkways. We’re away from most of the students here, and it’s quieter. Even if we do sit on a rock now and then. “Well, what’s so important anyway? Other than you know . . .”

  I sneak a glance around us, but no one’s looking or listening. I hope. “I can’t go swimming today. Can you imagine? I need Lakyn to help me figure out how to drop the class.”

  Silence. Then Beth laughs. And people look. Boys actually stop their joking around to turn and stare at us. Her eyes glitter with humour, and she laughs harder.

  “Beth,” I grumble. “Honestly.”

  “Oh yeah. OK. Sorry,” she wheezes, “it’s just . . .” She giggles harder, burbles echoing in her throat and expanding out across the eating area. “That’s funny. Totally. It’ll be all over the Internet in a split second.”

  The muesli bar snaps in two in my hands, and the smile drops from Beth’s face. “You that worried about it? Listen, just don’t go. Get your mum to write a letter. I’ll forge one for you,” she offers. “It’s just everyone is gonna die if you get in that pool, and I guess after yesterday, I can understand why. What happened to me at the beach anyway?”

  “You were out cold.” A grimace pulls at my lips. “It’s not just today. I have to get off the swim team permanently. Maybe I can say my psychiatrist doesn’t want me in the water and get a note from her.” Especially considering she’s a finfolk turned human and has been in on this with Lakyn since the beginning. The idea makes me feel slightly murderous.

  “Good idea.” Bethany nods. “Then hope you don’t get caught.” She pushes her glasses up her nose. “Get Lakyn to cover for you. Coach likes him and will do what he asks. He’s totally mad about you. Lakyn, I mean. Not Coach.”

  “You’re imagining things,” I mutter, but heat steals up my cheeks. I pick at my nails. “I thought he was only interested because of the . . . you know, the other thing.”

  “Oh, come on, El,” she sighs, “you mean how he fought off weird creatures who steal souls? That other thing? Or how about when he saved your life with a kiss?” She flashes me a wicked grin. “Or how about knowing he’s teaching you to swim with a . . . oh, never mind. Don’t be blind.” She takes her glasses off and stares at them, rubbing a dirty spot on her lens with her shirt. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Her eyes search mine. “You don’t really believe he’s just interested in you because of . . . ?” Her gaze flicks down to my legs. “Do you?”

  “He heard me singing on the cliff at the back of my house. He’s a guardian of the sea . . .”

  “Stop fishing. If that’s how it started, it’s not how it’s going to end.”

  “He’ll probably get annoyed if I text him again.” But I pull out my phone and send him a text anyway. Hey

  A minute or two passes. Nothing. God, I hate guys sometimes. I hate how he makes me feel so needy and clingy. Deep inside, I want to cry. Instead I bite my lower lip, then my fingernails and wonder what he’s doing. I know he’s not familiar with smartphones, but I’m pretty sure he answers no problem. I worry about him, but maybe he wants to put some space between us considering I broke the rules and told Beth and Cal about the sirens? What will I do if he doesn’t reply at all? My stomach trembles, heart hurts and I tug at my shirt, easing the tightness of the cotton around my ribs. He must be struggling just as much as I am with everything that’s happening. The way his body changes. He’s becoming human at the same speed I’m turning into a mermaid.

  I push my sandwich around, flicking disinterestedly at the plastic wrap and let my hair fall over my shoulder, hoping Bethany won’t see the tears swelling in my eyes.

  She talks about some new tech in the shops, but all noise seems to fade into the background, and my gaze lands on the trees, watching the leaves sway in the wind. All too soon the lunch bell rings, and my stomach rumbles loudly. I stuff the forgotten sandwich into my bag and dust off my skirt.

  “Wish me luck.” I sigh.

  Beth grins. “It’ll be all right. Goood luuuck!” She gives me a hug.

  “Thanks, Beth.” I turn and hurry down the walkway. The pavement reflects the sun, and as I walk along, the outline of my shadow contrasts against the bright sunlight. My hair hangs in wispy tendrils around my face.

  I open the pool gate and trudge up the bleachers, grabbing a seat in the shade, trying to stay in the shadows so no one can see me.

  “Mitchell,” the swim coach calls.

  Terrific. I lift my bag over my shoulder and stomp to the bottom of the stairs. “Coach,” I begin, and then gather my courage, “I need to talk to you about the swim team. I can’t get back into the water. I’m going to have to quit.”

  He narrows his eyes on me. “That’s not good enough. You signed up for the season. It’s a contract you signed up for. There’s no way to get out of it.”

  He obviously thinks I’ve never read anything in my life. Typical. “I’m pretty sure they don’t hold you to it if you’re under eighteen and seeing a psychiatrist for almost drowning and your heart actually stopped for a couple of minutes. My doctor says it’s a bad idea. She’s going to write a note for me.”

  “Well, where is it?” Coach’s voice is hard and his jaw clenches. He’s angry, and I guess he knows I don’t have a note with me.

  “I talked to her last night on the phone. My appointments have been rearranged to tomorrow. I thought I could handle this, but I can’t. I’ll have the note the day after tomorrow.”

  He says nothing and shifts his gaze back to the pool where guys parade around in Spe
edos, their massive arms swinging by their sides. Toned bodies, and faces carved from stone. I focus in on the wet pad of footsteps around the pool and suck in a deep breath of salt.

  Hunger and yearning ache under my breastbone. There’s no way I’m getting in this pool again. I shift uneasily.

  His eyes swerve back and pins mine. “You seem calm about it now.”

  That’s my poker face. “I don’t know what I’m feeling.” Another breath of that salt and I’ll be fighting my body not to jump in.

  Lakyn. Where are you?

  And here I’m thinking I’m weak to chase after him. The cool blue is a hand, twining around my ankles and pulling me in. The depths can help me forget. All I have to do is change form, breathe water, become someone else. I reef the tie from my bun and my hair tumbles down my back in a cascade of white curls. The faint scent of shampoo lingers in my nose and my neck warms with sweat. Ripples of light carry off the water, skating along my skin.

  I lick my upper lip and the taste makes my throat go dry.

  “Eloise.” Coach’s eyes are concerned. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” My mouth is so parched the word comes out in a grunt.

  “Step back from the edge,” he suggests. “For a moment.”

  My heel taps the concrete, and I clench my hands by my sides, loosen and then tighten them again. A burst of throaty laughter escapes me. I can’t stop from moving closer to the water.

  Coach’s grip on my arm reminds me of my dad’s when we used to arm wrestle. Rock hard. “I said back.”

  I’m stronger now. “Let go.”

  “Careful. You’re about to fall in with your school uniform on.”

  Who cares about my clothes? I’m ready to dive under and breathe in water. The clothes will rip to accommodate. I don’t fit most of them anymore; don’t really fit in anywhere. I press my lips together slowly and try to control myself. Breathe in and out.

  I look up at him and smile.

  His eyes widen and he takes a step back, releasing my arm. A flicker of fear darkens his gaze. “You . . . y-your,” he stutters, “eyes. They just changed colour.” He swallows. “From grey to . . .” He scratches his chin. “Bring the letter in when you can. Sit up in the bleachers until the bell rings.”

  “I can’t be here.” I close my eyes. When I open them, he’s not looking my way.

  A muscle jumps in his jaw, but he nods. “You can’t leave the school grounds until the bell goes.”

  “I’ll go to the library. Do some homework first.”

  He grabs the whistle around his neck, blows and barks orders to the boys lined up at the end of the pool. He stalks off in his too small polo to boss around some other unlucky students.

  The guys stare at me, a trace of envy in their eyes as I head toward the gate. They have to stay.

  My mouth is so dry and the sun is too hot. I want to jump in the pool, shoes and all. I fight my body every step away from the water. At the library, I pick a cool, quiet space with no one around to interrupt my study of Lakyn’s books for the next hour.

  33

  “I . . . UM . . . NEED a note.” I pause. “For swimming classes.” I’m ensconced in a deep leather chair at Redlands Hospital inside the Mental Health facility, trying to resist the urge to tell Dr. Farrow I know she used to be a mermaid. I don’t think Lakyn has told her I know. Mum dropped me off on her way to a gym session.

  Dr. Farrow frowns and flicks the end of a blue pen against her nails. She puts the pen back on her desk and spins around on her chair to face me. “Why?”

  I stall at this unexpected question. How to phrase this? Another deep breath. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me right now. I don’t enjoy it and it’s making my nightmares worse.” May lightning not strike me where I stand. Why didn’t Lakyn tell her about my tail?

  She murmurs and it sounds almost like a hum. “All right.” Finally, she gets up off her seat and walks to the door. “Excuse me, Eloise. I have to get some paperwork with a letterhead for your note.”

  She closes the door behind her, and I sit there, looking around her small office. There’s nothing interesting on the shelves on the wall above her desk. I can’t see any envelopes like I did last time. She quickly enters again, but leaves the door ajar. She holds a stack of paper in her hands, which she lines up in her printer.

  “Why don’t you tell me what is bothering you about the water now?”

  I shrug and kind of shut down all of my emotions so they don’t shine in my eyes. Why is she pretending not to know? “It’s too difficult at the moment.” Not a lie. “I’m stressing out about it.”

  “Difficult why?”

  Another shrug.

  She sighs. “Well, I can always talk to your mother. How about next time she comes in?”

  “I need the note tomorrow, but you can call my mum anytime. She’s said it’s fine. Ring her now on her mobile if you want.”

  Dr. Farrow studies me and then reaches over for the phone on her desk. She clicks through an address book on her computer and makes the call. Mum picks up immediately. Dr. Farrow discusses my feelings, how this course of action would best suit me and then she hangs up the phone.

  Something shifts in her gaze, an emotion I can’t define, so I don’t try. But unease grips me.

  “Your mother agrees that you should be allowed to recover at your own pace.” Dr. Farrow’s lips purse. She types up something in her database, prints out a letter, signs it and then places it in a white envelope. “Hand this to the necessary person, your swimming instructor or principal. They can ring me at any time to discuss the details.”

  My smile is more of a tucking in at the side of my lips. “Thanks.” I hold the letter in my lap and wait for her to say something else.

  “Has anything strange happened to you while you’ve been on the swim team, Eloise?”

  I try to hide my gasp. “Yes,” I say, thinking quickly. A lie won’t convince her now. “I freaked out and sunk to the bottom. Everyone laughed at me.”

  “But you made the team,” she counters and unwraps a stick of gum, popping it into her mouth. “How is that possible if you weren’t fast enough?”

  I bite my fingernail. “Oh, I made it to the end a few times. Beat the other girls my age. I still freak out though, and I think it has something to do with my nightmares. I’m not getting much sleep.”

  “Mmm.” She swings back to the desk, and I can tell she’s considering my mis-direction. “Have you been practicing your relaxation techniques before bed?”

  “Sometimes. Did you know a reporter has asked to interview me? I said no. Mum is seeing a solicitor, but she’s also been in touch with the police.”

  Dr. Farrow nods. “Remember to practice the techniques every night and even during the day if you experience a stressful situation. Take the time to breathe and relax.”

  “OK.” I look out her window without telling her that sometimes the feelings aren’t so stressful. Daylight is fading fast and, for once, I’m surprised I haven’t cried during her session. Normally, she has me bawling and going through a box of tissues. Sometimes she expressly asks for Mum to come in after my session and gives her quick instructions on how to manage everything, ranging from talking about my dad, to problems at school.

  “Let me take you through a relaxation session now to see if it’s still working. Lean back in the chair and close your eyes.” Dr. Farrow’s tone lowers to a soothing murmur as she targets my body in sections. First, my toes, and the relaxing numbness moves up my feet. I follow her directions, imagining every muscle tensing, then relaxing completely. I walk out of her office, shoulders drooping, legs loose, but I have a smile.

  A sharp pang of hunger grips my stomach and I head to the awesome cafeteria. I’d visited here last time with Mum. I grab a seat near the garden and wait for my order of toasted ham and cheese sandwiches. My iPhone jingles and I check the incoming message.

  Bethany writes: Wuu2

  I reply: Apt @ hosp talk soon


  I plug in my headphones since I have a few minutes until my food is ready and hum along to the Black Eyed Peas. The music is soothing enough to maintain my calm, but when my mind drifts, pangs of longing hit me square in the chest. I haven’t seen or heard from Lakyn at all, and the worry is starting to eat away at my spirit. I flip through the songs on my most recent playlist, but find nothing I want to listen to and then pull out the ear buds.

  Distinctive strides along the pavement catch my attention. I look up, my heart pounds, almost coming out of my chest. I don’t realise I’m standing until I begin to walk. His head hangs, clothes all rumpled and dirty like he’s slept in them. He walks in jerky, uncontrolled motions with his fists clenched tightly by his side.

  “Lakyn.” My voice is hoarse, not loud enough, but he looks up just the same.

  “Ellie.” The word cracks and he swallows, visibly holding himself in check. He stops and a tortured look crosses his face.

  I rush to him, standing close enough to grab his shoulder and run my hand down his arm, offering support. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Ralph’s . . .” Lakyn chokes on the word and bursts out, “dead. Sirens got him.”

  Shudders attack my body and I shake my head repeatedly. “No. No. That’s impossible. It can’t be right. I saw him yesterday morning.”

  Lakyn takes both of my hands in a firm grip. “Ellie. He’s gone.” His voice wobbles and he hunches over as though he can’t bear for me to see him cry. “Sirens took him and left his body to wash up on the shore. I couldn’t save him. The doctors could do nothing.”

  The sunshine has never been more unwelcome. It should be raining, pouring. It should be storming. Tears drip down my cheeks, and I sniff, then lean into Lakyn’s chest.

  He lifts a hand and pats my back in slow, trembling motions.

  “I can’t believe it. Oh God. I’ve been ringing you. Leaving messages.”

  “My phone got wet.” He rubs his nose, eyes rimmed red. “I dragged him from the shallows and it fell out of my top pocket.”