Page 75 of Make Out With A Merman

Butacknowledgement.

I give one last push.

Then let go.

And in the space between breaths, between worlds, betweenme.

I make peace.

With the past.

With the pain.

With everything I never said.

And I let the water take me.

The rift roars, louder now.

The currents slam around me like fists of old gods.

But just before everything breaks.

A memory bubbles up.

I’m eight. Too small for my age, too skinny.

Sitting on the rocky edge of the southern inlet, legs dangling in the cold surf, watching my father twist saltweed into a braid around a small stone charm.

“What’s that for?” I’d asked, voice high and curious.

“A tether,” he said, eyes serious. “For the ones we want to keep. For the ones who drift.”

I’d cocked my head, inspecting his craftsmanship closely. Taking in everything I could. “Is it magic?”

“Yes,” he’d replied simply. “Some of the strongest there is.”

I’d frowned in confusion, trying hard to understand. “But there’s no glowing or sparks? I thought magical stuff wassupposed to be…I don’t know, pretty?” I’d grimaced, thinking of my aunt’s glowing amulets or the school teacher’s hair beads that glittered like the stars on a cloudless night.

He’d smiled. “Some of the strongest magic doesn’t flash, son. It holds. Quiet. Steady.”

I remember watching him toss that stone into the lake with a strange reverence. I didn’t have the knowledge or understanding to appreciate what he was doing back then.

I have too much of it now.

“What if it doesn’t work?”

He’d looked at me, hand on my shoulder.

“Then we try again. That’s what we do. We hold the line. Even when it hurts.”

Now, years later, in the heart of the lake, with the rift trying to tear me apart.

I feel that hand on my shoulder again.

I feelhim.

And suddenly, I know this isn’t where my story ends.

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