The Waves Did Not Accept Him

This story contains: mentions of abuse, an implied death threat, and someone wearing another person's skin.

This story begins as others have, with a rowboat, a soon-to-be-pirate, and a sky full of stars.

Ronan lay in bed, trying to sleep. Trying to kill the sick anticipation growing in his stomach. He wished his da’ were home. At least, he wished he’d never left to visit the stinking Splintered Hull. He was a good father when he was sober. At least, a better one.

He needed to fall asleep now. Before his da’ came back. Before his parents started arguing.

Was it still called arguing if only one person was doing the arguing, and the other was just crying? And being yelled at for crying? Was it still yelling if someone’s tone was sharp but their voice was low and quiet?

Ronan had to quiet his thoughts. He had to fall asleep before his da’ was home. Before he froze in bed, petrified, and so aware of everything.

A knock came at his door.

It couldn’t have been his da’. Not yet. Unless he’d lost track of time. Had he lost track of time? He opened the door.

It was his mum.

She stood, so very tense, a grey coat in her hands. One he’d never seen before. Ronan recognized it as sealskin. Her selkie coat?

Ronan looked up at her, “Mum?”

“I am sorry, so sorry,” her dark eyes filled with tears.

She was leaving him. Alone. With Da’. No.

He hugged her, holding tight, trying to stop the tears that came to his eyes, “Don’t leave us. Don’t leave me. Please.”

He knew that selkies always left. That was what the legends said. What Da’ had said. It was why Da’ had hidden her coat.

Until now, Ronan hadn’t believed those legends, “Please,” he whimpered.

“Ronan,” she whispered, “This isn’t my coat.”

He pulled away.

The tears that had before only filled her eyes now overflowed to her cheeks, “It’s yours.”

Ronan stared at the coat, “But you hate sealskin…”

It was an offense against her people. Cruelty. Wearing something’s skin. Why would she buy this for him?

“It’s not sealskin, it’s selkie skin. Yours.”

“But…half selkies don’t turn,” he argued, “You told me that.”

She smiled a tired smile, “I lied.”

“But why?”

He knew that selkies always left. That was what the legends said. What Da’ had said. It was why Da’ had hidden her coat.

Until now, Ronan hadn’t believed those legends, “Please,” he whimpered.

“Ronan,” she whispered, “This isn’t my coat.”

He pulled away.

The tears that had before only filled her eyes now overflowed to her cheeks, “It’s yours.”

Ronan stared at the coat, “But you hate sealskin…”

It was an offense against her people. Cruelty. Wearing something’s skin. Why would she buy this for him?

“It’s not sealskin, it’s selkie skin. Yours.”

“But…half selkies don’t turn,” he argued, “You told me that.”

She smiled a tired smile, “I lied.”

“But why?”

“Because I am selfish. And terrible,” his mum replied, “And because I love you.”

“That’s not a real answer.”

She sighed, “When a selkie is separated from their skin–separated from the sea, it hurts. There is a constant pulling towards home. When you were born, it was lessened for me. I was tethered to you. The pull would have come back if I’d let you go to sea. So, I hid your coat.”

“Why are you giving it to me now?”

She took his face in her hands, “Because I love you.”

“That’s not a real answer.”

“Because you need to run until you reach the river. There will be a rowboat there. Steal it.”

“No.”

“Take your coat,” she offered it.

Ronan stepped away, “I’m not leaving you alone.”

The fact that she wouldn’t be alone made it worse. Ronan could imagine the not argument they’d have when his da’ found out. Everyone would wonder why the sailor’s son had run off. It would be a disgrace.

“You cannot stay,” she argued.

“Then come with me.”

“I can’t,” she pulled him into an embrace, “With all my heart I wish I could, but you don’t have to wish. You just have to take your coat, and row.”

“But…I can’t just leave you,” he buried his face in her shoulder.

“I’ll still be with you.”

“That’s just a saying.”

“No, it’s more true for you than for anyone else. We are bound by blood. By salt. By nature. By love. We are bound by the sea. And the sea knows its own.”

“But, how will I know where to go?”

“The pull will guide you to the sea. Follow it.”

So, Ronan took the coat, and ran. He made it to the river, found the rowboat, and set out to sea. He didn’t wonder whose boat he'd stolen. Didn’t let himself wonder. Didn’t let himself think about how his da’ had stolen a rowboat when he met his mum. He just rowed.

His mum had been right. There was a tug in his chest which seemed to pull him down the river. North. Ronan had never seen the ocean before. Or he had been too young to remember. As the days sailed on, the fresh water turned to salt.

And he heard gulls. Saw their shadows cast on the crashing waves. The water, sparkling in the sunlight like his mum’s eyes when she laughed.

Foolishly, he rowed into the sea. The pull lessened. It only seemed to tug him down, gently. He kept rowing forward. Night fell. Ronan had no guide except the stars. He could not read these stars.

So, he rowed.

Morning came. There was a ship. Black sails. Hull painted with blue letters which read: Seahawk.

A call rang out. Ronan couldn’t make out the words. Heads peeped out over the side of the ship. He waved an oar at them.

Next thing he knew, he was aboard the Seahawk. Sailors spoke all around him. Potentially about him. Ronan wasn’t sure. He did not recognize most of their words. They made way for a man who strode towards him.

He addressed Ronan in that language he did not know. Ronan stared at him.

The man shifted his words to Losol Gaeshric, “Who are you? And why are you alone?”

“My name is Ronan,” he did not answer the second question.

The man did not ask him again, “It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Captain Jack Gorrión. This is my ship, the Seahawk.”

Captain Gorrión bowed slightly, “You may stay and join my crew, or you may leave the next time we are in port. I only ask for one thing in return.”

Ronan watched him warily, “What do you want?”

“You seem to have a very fine sealskin coat, and I believe it would suit me perfectly.”

“No.”

“Apologies, my tongue may have slipped. You seem to have interpreted my words as a request.”

It was not a threat. Not quite. But Ronan watched as the captain’s hand moved to the pistol at his waist. He shrugged the coat off of his shoulders. There was no pain. No pull.

Captain Gorrión took it. He slipped it on. It fit him well.

Ronan’s skin seemed to prickle.

Captain Gorrión took a step back, “It suits me, does it not?”

The pull came back. Not gentle, as it had been before, but harsh. As if it might wrench his lungs from his chest. His vision swam with spots. Ronan closed his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands against his forehead. The timbers of the ship creaked. He tipped onto his side, shoulder crashing into the deck. Ronan vomited, feeling dizzy.

The last thing he heard was the captain’s voice, speaking in that unfamiliar language. He was pulled into unconsciousness.

The sky and sea blended together in the darkness. Ronan could not be sure which was which. If he dived, would he find himself flying?

Then, the still sea began to move. Small waves, lapping against the rock. The rock. It was cold beneath Ronan’s bare feet. The surface looked wet, but anywhere he stood felt dry.

There were no birds. There was no breeze. There were no stars.

But Ronan could see the moon, full. Casting light upon the sea. Reflected in the sea. Hanging in the sky.

Beneath it, another rock. On that rock, a little seal. Grey and young. Freckled with spots. It stared at him with round, wet eyes. Was it crying? Ronan couldn’t tell, from so far away.

He looked down. Perhaps to preserve the seal’s dignity.

The sea was filled with stars.

Soft and yellow. Scattered across the sea. They floated just beneath the surface, bobbing with the waves. Up and down. Down and up. As they bobbed, they coalesced.

Soon a glowing line formed between Ronan and the little seal. It undulated in the waves. He watched it, for a moment. Was it guiding him? Did the lights want him to comfort the seal?

He dove into the water.

The waves did not accept him.