AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Margot shook her head, her eyes locked on mine.
“I saw relief and utmost gratefulness. It was as if a guarded piece of himself finally felt as if it didn’t have to swim anymore. That he could rest, for a little while...even if this wasn’t the shore he’d wanted to find.”
I rubbed at my chest, feeling the same crest of feelings I had back then. “That was when I knew that he’d survived things I could never understand. He’d escaped things that still haunted him, and once the sala had been transformed from a rarely used garden ornament into somewhere to protect our newest family member, my mother disappeared to pick up something to eat and came back with a double-sized mattress, a simple black bedframe, and bags of fresh linen and cosy grey blankets.”
“Aslan slept there that night?” Margot asked.
“And for all the nights he lived with us.”
“How long was that?” Margot stopped writing, giving me her full attention.
I rubbed again at the pang in my heart. It surprised me how much it hurt. How much I would struggle when I had to tell the part of the story that came after all the newness and falling. “Almost six years.”
“Six? Wow, that’s a lot longer than what I thought you were going to say.” Dylan sipped his lemonade. “And he worked for your family that entire time?”
“Every day. Through storm, sun, and sickness.”
“Do you think he would’ve stayed that long if it wasn’t for the fact he couldn’t get another job or home without the risk of deportation?”
I flinched at Dylan’s question, but nodded and accepted his judgement. “I asked myself that a lot. I feared Aslan stayed with us out of obligation. That he wanted to leave, rather than live in our garden as a fugitive, but I know now—thanks to hindsight—that if we’d given him the choice and he actually had a choice, he would’ve stayed far, far longer than six years.”
“Why didn’t he, then?”
I sagged back against my cushions, tiredness creeping over me. “You’ll find out soon enough. For now...let me indulge in the newness of feelings. To share the first stirrings of love from a girl who’d found everything she ever wanted in a boy. A boy who wanted nothing to do with her.”
“Oh, now we’re talking.” Margot finished her lemonade and sat forward with her chin in her hands, abandoning her writing and letting the microphone capture my tale. “Go right ahead. I’m here for all of it.”
I smiled and drifted. “It all began when my father cut Aslan’s cast off...and I forced him to go swimming.”
Chapter Thirteen
*
Aslan
*
(Moon in Welsh: Lleuad)
“HOW WERE THE CLAMS?” I ASKED, LOOKING up from the laptop where I’d been tweaking another data system to try to streamline Jack’s saved files with keywords and locations instead of time stamps and gibberish code that meant nothing to him.
The sun had been extra hot today and the ocean extra blue. My eyes ached even behind sunglasses, but at least the shade sail kept my skin from crisping like the first day.
“They were good. Samples show the water is healthy at the moment, so I’m happy,” Anna said, wringing out her hair and heading to the cage where the scuba gear was stored. Methodically stripping off her tank, belt, and wetsuit, she smiled. “How’s your wrist?”
I stuck my arm out, scowling at the slightly paler skin and the weaker-looking muscles. “Pathetic.”
She laughed as Jack clambered on board, speaking to Neri who threw her flippers past his face and jumped up behind him.
“It will take a few days to get used to the cast being off,” Jack said as he copied what Anna had done and stripped his gear, leaving him in black boardshorts. “Sorry we couldn’t take you back to the hospital. It would’ve been good for a check-up, but well, you know...circumstances aren’t exactly ideal.” He winced. “Does it feel healed at least? When I cut it off this morning, I didn’t see any deformities, and you said nothing crunches or hurts when you move...so that has to be a good sign, right?”
“It’s fine, Jack.” I smiled at the man who’d turned his garden sala into a bedroom for me. Who kept me safe and lied for me. Who gave me a second chance...all when he didn’t have to.
I rolled my healed wrist as Neri drifted past, giving me a cool smile and looking at my exposed arm. Up until this morning—when I’d complained of how itchy the cast had become and Jack had announced it’d been seven weeks and should probably come off—I’d been beholden to the temperamental nature of plaster of paris and water.
Showering with a plastic bag on my arm had become the worst part of my day.
Not being able to help clean the dishes made me feel like I took advantage.
