Teeth(53)

He examines it and nods. “Until my teeth grow back.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Rudy. I don’t know where I’m going to put this, though . . . ” He leaves it on the dock. “There.”

“Not really safe there.”

“When I can swim, I’ll put it in my cave.”

“The big cave?”

“No, too far away. I need to find a new cave. For now.”

The water is up to my chest, and I’m shivering.

“You should get on the dock,” he says. “It’s cold under here. Even I’m cold. And I’m a fish.”

I shake my head. “I’m only here for a second. I have to get back to my brother. Listen. You have to get out of here.”

“Yeah, but I can’t get to my cave right now. Plus it doesn’t feel the same. Unless you come too?”

“No. Out of here. Away from the island.”

He stares at me.

“Listen to me.” I rock as a wave passes. “They know what you did. They’re out for blood.”

He touches his cheek.

“Yeah. Your blood. Except all of it this time.”

He brings his eyes down and sucks halfheartedly at his fish. “I hate humans,” he mumbles, the same way he did earlier, like he’s saying something completely different.

So I say, “Me too, you know?”

He looks up.

I clear my throat. “Look. They’re coming after you tonight.”

“What are they gonna do?”

“Whatever they have to. They have guns, and knives, and . . . and you won’t be able to get away this time. You need to get the f*ck out of here.”

He’s still not giving me much of anything. “And go where?”

“I don’t know. Far away. Different water. Somewhere. Anywhere. And stay the f*ck out of sight this time, okay, wherever you end up? No getting on the rocks to flirt with human boys, idiot.”

He rolls his eyes. I want to smile.

“But I’m serious about getting away,” I say. “You have to, or they’re going to kill you. I mean it. They’ll find you and you’re not getting away this time. And I can’t save you. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s a lot of them. A whole lot. And I’m not magic.”

“You should be a fish.”

“Yeah.”

“Killing me isn’t going to save your brother.” He shakes his head. “It’s not going to save any of them. They don’t get that?”

“They think you’re dangerous.”

“I’m not going to hurt anybody!”

“I know. Teeth. I know.”

He’s breathing really hard and fast now. “I can’t get away,” he says. “Because I can’t bite and I can’t swim.” He holds up his tail. “I can barely even kick. I can do a lap around the island, maybe. Maybe.”

He couldn’t. “I know.”

He’s figuring this out as he goes. “And if I swim as far as I can, that will get me out of sight, but stuck in the deep water. I’ll drown. They’ll kill me, or I’m going to drown.”

“You’re not going to drown. I’m not going to let you drown. Listen to me.”

He looks at me. I’ve never seen his eyes this big. “I’m really smart, Rudy, and I can’t figure out a way out of it.”

“Then I must be f*cking smarter, because I have this figured out. I didn’t come here just to scare you to death, okay?”

“Okay.” He covers his face with his hands. “Okay okay okay.”

“Shh, listen to me.”

“Listening.” He reaches out and grabs my shoulder like he’ll fall back into the water if he doesn’t. I cover his hand with mine.

I say, “You’re going to steal a boat. You only need to swim as far as the marina. Quietly. And haul yourself on board. You can do that. That’s barely a swim. And you’re out of here.”

He takes a minute, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth. I’m holding my breath while I watch him. Come on. Come on. I figured this out. I didn’t miss anything. This will work. It has to work. This is part one, and part two isn’t going to work if I can’t get him out of here and safe.

“Come on,” I whisper to him. I grip his hand on my shoulder. The webs between his fingers are cool and smooth between mine. “You steal the boat. You sail it. Fuck, I can teach you how to sail it if I need to.”

“I know how to sail.” He sounds offended. “I’ve watched them do it a zillion times. What the f*ck do you think the fishermen talk about all the time?”


“So get on that boat and get the hell out of here. Go as far as you want. Go to England. Learn the funny accent. Say ‘Teeth’ like it has an f at the end.” He can’t really pronounce his th’s anymore anyway.

“Like Madeleine?”

“No, that’s France. But okay. Go to France.”

He tilts his head like he’s imagining this. For a second I think I have him convinced.

I hear a seagull above my head, and I smell smoke now that it’s getting dark. They talked about making torches. I think they’re trying to scare Teeth to death so they don’t actually have to do anything. They still don’t want to confront the fact that he might not be just a legend.