Page 47 of Waves
“Well, damn, I didn’t know any of that.”
“Just goes to show, you never really know another person.”
I stewed on her words while I stared into my cup. She was right, as usual, but that wasn’t what got to me. I liked to think despite the short time spent together I knew Kai. I even saw for myself what a good person he was, and he thought enough of me to trust me with his secret. Surely, he must care for me after coming back twice and staying as long as he had. None of this quieted my nagging doubts.
There was a time not so long ago when I thought I knew Thom. I believed he loved me more than anyone ever had and that he would always be there for me. And I was wrong. I never really knew him at all.
I looked forward to seeing Ezra again. We almost perfected a routine, him and I. After staying together for six days, I broke my record again and made it back in two weeks. Then we were together for eight whole days before I left again. Even though I continued to stay on land longer each time, I still wished I could be with him more. To do that, I needed to master returning in a timely fashion.
Each time I had to go, Ezra dropped me off at the same pebble beach in the islands then waited for my seal instincts to bring me back to him. After all, he assured me I frequented the same areas as a seal so running into him would only be a matter of time. While coming ashore and staying on land became easier, leaving only became harder each time.
As guilty as I felt whenever I heeded the call of the wild, I doubted I could change that part of me if I tried. If being with Ezra couldn’t keep me away from the ocean, nothing ever would. Not that being with Ezra ever made me feel trapped. Ezra always let me go whenever I pleased and always promised to be there when I came back. He hadn’t let me down yet.
While resting at the other end of the coast, I spotted Ezra’s boat in the distance. Meeting in the bay wasn’t the plan, but knowing he came for me made my heart race faster than a horse. I slid off my basking rock to swim closer, and once I came within a few feet of his boat, I sprayed seawater with my flippers.
Ezra rushed to the side and leaned over the rail to call down at me. “Kai, get over here.”
Looked as if someone really missed me. I rolled over and stroked backward through the waves.
“This is not the time for games,” he yelled. “Get out of the damn water now.”
Now, I never heard Ezra truly angry, yet I still felt unsure of his tone right now. His pitch registered more like distress, which made me equally frantic. I dove under his boat and resurfaced by the stern with my coat in my hand. Ezra held onto a rail and hung off the back of his boat, offering me a hand to haul me out of the water. As soon as he could, he hugged me with shaking arms, and I couldn’t do anything other than stand on the deck while he sobbed.
I rubbed my hand in the middle of his back while my guts twisted from guilt. Despite climbing out of the water a moment ago, my mouth went dry. “How long has it been?”
“A month.”
I chewed my lip and squinted up at the sun hanging in the sky. Truthfully, I preferred the bay once the tourists began to clear out. How could it be the end of August already?
“Are you sure?”
Ezra nodded while he held onto me, and the stubble on his face scratched my bare skin. More than a five o’clock shadow, which almost registered as odd considering he had always been clean-shaven.
“I’m so sorry, Ezra.”
Ezra shook his head and sucked back his remaining bits of sadness. “It’s not your fault.”
My brows twisted, and I frowned despite the reprieve from him. All of this was most certainly my fault, and I felt worse hearing him excuse my absence. I’d rather him accept my apology than dismiss all blame.
Ezra pulled away from my chest and tugged at my hand, leading me below deck to the interior of his boat. I hadn’t spent much time down here, since I preferred to be above deck with him and Ishmael. The hull had a small kitchen attached to a dining area and an even smaller bathroom. Beneath the bow and built right into the wall, an untouched bed hid in the darkness like a mattress set inside a cave.
Ezra sat on the edge with me, and his breath broke. He had yet to let go of me this entire time. “I thought you were dead.”
I placed my other hand at the nape of his neck, my fingertips brushing his hairline with gentle reassurance. “I’m already as old as dirt. You don’t need to worry about me so much, love.”
“I wasn’t worried because you were gone for so long.”
Tilting my head to one side, I tried to gauge his expression. I clearly upset him, but I didn’t understand how. “What’s got you so worried?”
Ezra sniffled and dug into his pocket to pull out his phone. His eyes got misty again while his fingers moved across the screen, and I braced for the worst. Well, maybe not the absolute worst since Ezra was here and breathing, but something terrible enough for him to be so teary. A thousand scenarios ran through my mind, and most of them involved the same despicable man. I never should have been away from Ezra this long.
“Keep scrolling until you get to the bottom. I can’t look at it again,” Ezra mumbled, wiping his face with his palm before passing his phone to me.
An article dated almost a week ago filled the screen, and the title hit harder than a punch in the gut: County’s Decision to Cull Already Successful. I did as Ezra suggested and slid my finger up the screen, reading snippets of the article in the process. As of this month, it was open season on the seals of the bay thanks to newly granted hunting permits lasting until late winter. I supposed that explained the islands being more crowded than usual, since the bay became a literal graveyard.
I scrolled past more bureaucratic garbage: predictions of reduced shark sightings along the beaches next season, how the seals would no longer diminish the availability of seafood in the bay, and that this was supposedly a humane solution to an exploding population that would slowly starve itself. While all of this was distressing, even to me—especially to me—nothing could have prepared me for the pictures.
A photo gallery of trophy shots sent into the newspaper flashed across the very bottom of the article. I clicked through the pictures, feeling more and more nauseated with every photo until I almost dropped Ezra’s phone in my lap. Half a dozen dead seals lay side by side on a stained shore, the farthest one with a pale coat seeping red into the water. The similarity was so close, even I would have mistaken the pelt for mine.