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I can’t hold back a giggle. “So…they startle you?”
“They startle everyone,” he says in righteous tones. “Who wants that? Some fucking mouse or chiseled wood Pied Piper shit just bounces out and the clock does that loud gong noise. Hey, fuck you, it’s eight o’clock, did you just shit your pants?”
I laugh so hard, I roll about and wind up on my back, where I’m faced with the ceiling.
“What’s your other thing?” I whisper tightly. “You said other than clocks…”
“Nu-uh. Now you owe me. Tell me one of yours and I’ll tell you my big one.”
I heave a deep sigh. “Only really one big fear here, and I’m afraid I couldn’t share it. I’m quite off my rocker, not the funny sort of off. Just off.”
“Oh, c’mon, you can’t not tell me after that. It’s…” He reaches for the watch I keep between us, pressing the light-up button to make its screen turn faintly blue. “It’s two fifty-one in the morning. We’re stuck in a fucking cave—”
“A burrow,” I correct.
>
“We’re stuck in a rabbit burrow. You’ve got a phobia that makes you sound off your rocker. I’m thinking fear of panty hose or terrified of cutlery. I want something really good here.”
He yawns behind his hand, still giving me a pointed look, and I scrunch my nose. “You’re making me feel anxious as you speak.”
“What is it, Siren? I gave you clocks. What do you have for me?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Fold an arm around myself inside my sleeping bag. “It’s not the funny sort, nor will you necessarily find it novel. You’re going to be sorely disappointed.”
“No? Well that’s okay.” His voice is soft and kind, and at that moment, I decide I’ll go through with it. I exhale…inhale. And I just say it. “I’m afraid of water.”
“Water, like…”
“The ocean. I abhor the ocean. I’m…I’m land-bound.”
I can feel his surprise in the stillness. In some subtle flicker of his mouth, a tiny movement of his brows over those discerning eyes. I can feel his questions, unsaid weights that make the air around us thicker.
“You’re trapped here.”
The truth of those words makes my eyes well. I nod at the ceiling. Despite the care I’ve taken to keep steady, a tear escapes the corner of my eye and streaks down my cheek, running toward my left ear. I wipe it and sigh. “I don’t get emotional unless I’m over-tired, Carnegie. I blame you and this rabbit burrow. We could be up there—” I point to the ceiling— “crushed by rocks under the open sky.”
He chuckles softly, but it feels half-hearted. Somber. Afterward, he lets a long breath out and shifts onto his back beside me, propping one thick arm behind his head. I can feel his gaze on my face for a bit before his quiet question.
“Why are you scared of the sea, Siren?”
I’m not sure if I’m surprised he asked. Perhaps I’m not. He doesn’t seem the sort to shy away from something he wants—and I suppose he wants to hear me speak of it.
I rub my lips together, aim my gaze toward his shadowed form.
“I’m thinking of speaking of something horrid. You should tell me not to.”
“Horrid’s my middle name, though.”
“I believe that.” I smile, and I think I can feel him smiling despite my refusal to look over at him.
“I like ume candy, Carnegie. Once a tourist from Japan sent seven pounds of it over prior to visiting. A sort of pre-greeting, I suppose. I ate most of it and had to have a tooth filled after.”
“You’re right, that is awful.”
“You’re awful. Be quiet and listen.”
“Yes ma’am.”
