Fear the Drowning Deep(5)

He surfaces for the briefest moment, not near the rocks as I’d feared, but already farther out than I’d thought him capable of swimming. He closes his eyes, that strange broad smile still plastered on his face, and lets the waves swallow him one last time.

And then, soft as a whisper, the whine of a fiddle reaches my ears.

Or perhaps it’s my own keening cry, tossed back to me by the wind. There aren’t any fiddlers out here on the cliffs. No one who hears my cries and screams for help.

A flash of white draws my gaze back to the water. At first, it appears to be the transparent figure of a tall man—Grandad’s spirit?—watching me from above the waves. But when I blink, there’s only a whitecap, rolling through the empty space where Grandad disappeared.


A flock of white birds darted around Grayse’s head as she stood at the end of the harbor dock, tossing crumbs of cheese in the air.

I sat cross-legged a few feet away, shivering at the water’s nearness, my gaze flicking between the unchanging horizon and my sister. I kept hoping for a glimpse of movement, a speck growing larger as Da approached, but the sea maintained its morning calm. Flecks of light played across the harbor’s tranquil waters and a breeze made tiny ripples around the dock. Under a clear sky, with my sister humming a lively song, the sea appeared innocent. Almost.

Grayse’s humming was broken by a sudden cry, and I leaped up. “Stop it, birdies!” she yelped, dropping the cheese to cover her face with her hands.

The sun glinted on sharp beaks and talons. I ran toward Grayse, making shooing motions at the birds. “You’ve given them enough, little fish! We aren’t running a charity for the guillemots.”

The spark of an idea flashed in her eyes as she retrieved the cheese.

“Grayse,” I groaned, inspecting her face and hands for cuts. “Promise me you won’t start collecting scraps for them. When you tried to start a charity for the porpoises last year, all the donations amounted to were a couple of fish heads and an old boot, remember?”

Grayse mumbled something that sounded like “I remember.”

We lapsed into silence, listening to the rustle of birds’ wings as they flapped across the water to seek their fortunes elsewhere. To our right, a rusted dinghy bobbed alone in the harbor, rocked by the breeze.

“Bry, do you think there’s a monster hiding under the dock right now?” Grayse asked, peering through gaps in the battered wooden planks.

“I don’t know. But if something tries to grab us, I’ll tell it to eat me first.” I plopped down on the boards again, trying not to think about what foul things might be curled in the shadows below.

Grayse gave a halfhearted smile. “D’you think Mally will get married soon?” She broke the cheese in two and offered me a piece. “I hope she chooses Thomase.”

“What? Why him?”

“He gave me the fish heads for the porpoises. And he’s handsome.”

I laughed and bit into the sharp cheese. “You shouldn’t know about ‘handsome’ yet. Besides, Mally has her heart set on Artur. He’s promised to take her to England someday.”

“Not him!” Grayse shook her head as though trying to clear away the image of the lad who wore drab colors and calculated numbers in his head for fun. “Why don’t you marry Thomase then?”

I choked, spraying my skirt with bits of cheese. How could I explain to her that marriage would be another tie to a place I dreamed of leaving behind? Not to mention what a git Thomase was.

“Mam says it’s time you found good work or a good husband.”

“I know what Mam says.”

I didn’t like hearing her lectures repeated by my sweetest sister. After all, Mam’s idea of good work was selling her paintings during Tourist Season, which was finally upon us, to supplement the living Da made for us with his fishing. Mermaids. Selkies. Pearly pink octopi swirling through the deep. Each day Mam trapped her strange dreams on canvas, yet she expected me to do mindless work while she indulged her whims. I intended to find a job soon, but it would take years to save up enough money for a one-way ride on a sturdy boat.

I tipped my head back, letting the sun warm my face. My eyes fluttered closed and my breathing slowed as I imagined being miles from the sea.

“Look!” Grayse poked me in the ribs with her bony elbow and scrambled to her feet. “Da! Over here!” She bounced on the spot as though she were attached to springs.

I looked out over the water. A shape separated itself from the horizon and coasted toward us. Da’s boat. From such a distance, he wouldn’t be able to hear our shouts, but Grayse continued to call to him.

By the time Da was close enough for us to see the stubble on his chin, Grayse had worn out her voice. She smiled and stood with her arms outstretched, signaling she was ready to catch the line.

“My girls!” Da beamed as his boat approached. His cap had fallen off, and the wind was ruffling his dark hair, giving him a wild appearance. “Ready, Grayse?” he called as he tossed her the heavy rope.

I tried to assist as little as possible, but Grayse didn’t protest when I shouldered some of the weight of the line.

“How’s everything at home?” Da asked. He sat in the boat with his arms folded, giving Grayse time to tie the rope to the dock’s metal cleat. “Your mam? Liss and Mally?”