Page 1 of Waves

I tightened the straps of my bag on my shoulders before pedaling up the steep incline. A hill on the way to the gym was a special kind of torture, but I didn’t mind so much. Nothing compared to the rush of air while coasting downhill on my way back home, the spring air nipping at my skin. I preferred to ride my bike whenever possible for this very reason.

The sun seemed more of an ornament in the sky than an actual heat source on this May afternoon, giving me second thoughts about taking my bicycle. Hell, who was I kidding? I needed the exercise. I didn’t get out nearly as often as I should. My time got spent on my boat, cruising up and down the beaches of the coast or circling the surrounding islands, all while documenting the local wildlife.

Once upon a time I aspired to do more with my marine biology degree, but since then, I settled for the quiet life of a sleepy coastal town. Now my days consisted of cataloging the growing common seal population, recording any sightings of the various species native to the bay, and trying to keep the wildlife protected. More than likely, I wouldn’t be winning any medals for my efforts. My work might not be as important as nursing baby dolphins back to health, but it still felt essential. I advocated for the seals because no one else would.

The thing about little Cape towns like this one: the entire economy revolved around those few months when vacationers dumped all of their disposable income into local businesses. A majority of the shops and seafood shacks around here relied on those peak months to keep them afloat until next season. So, when something ate the fish, the shellfish, and even the live bait, it sent ripples through the town economy. And when nets came up empty, fishing boats scrambled to make a profit while still meeting demand. Everyone who handled a cod got affected—from the moment it left the ocean until it was battered, fried, and served to hungry tourists.

Of course, seals were not the sole animals preying on the seafood industry, but no one cursed the dolphins and whales like they did the seals. And now, the seals were being blamed for attracting sharks closer and closer to the public beaches. One good scare was all it would take for tourism to come to a screeching halt for the season.

I knew this, since I saw it happen before. I grew up not too far from here and visited these same beaches each summer. Years later, I was the only one in my whole family who stayed local. I couldn’t even say what kept drawing me back to this area, but here I was.

I would say this much, though. I could see why this town remained so popular with vacationers. Stopping at the top of the hill, I took in the view of the bay while the wind whipped the dry beach grass and waves crashed upon the shore. Beautiful didn’t do the scenery justice.

That was when I noticed him, silhouetted against the sun and walking right out of the water. With squinted eyes, I stopped and watched while my curiosity got the better of me.

In a town where everyone knew your name (and your entire family tree), I felt sure after one glance I never met this guy. No one swam in spring except for the hardcore athletes and we hadn’t hosted a local Olympic hopeful for a few years. I had no idea what the hell this guy was doing here, but he must be new to the area.

“Hey!”

I reflexively swerved my head away. Nice, real nice. Good thing I never dreamed of being a private investigator.

“Hey, you on the bike. May I have some help?”

Now, I might be many things, even a coward, but I was not the sort of man who could ignore someone asking for help. I swung my kickstand to the ground and trotted down the dunes as carefully as possible.

My new and mysterious neighbor walked across the beach to meet me halfway, stopping when we were within a few feet of each other. He combed his sopping golden curls away from his face with his fingers, so the tendrils hung just past his broad shoulders. Water ran in small rivers down his sculpted chest from his dripping hair and beard. He must be brave to go into that water without a wetsuit. I flicked my eyes down to prevent any further staring and—he was not wearing anything.

“I, uh, I lost my...”

“Swimsuit?” I interrupted with a small yelp. I tried willing myself not to stare—fully aware that I continued, anyway. The blood rushing from my head might make me faint were it not for some being diverted to my cheeks while I met his gaze.

“Sure.” His laughter crinkled his eyes when he smiled. “Do you think I might borrow something? It’s frigid out here.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” I could smell the wires of my brain frying while I fumbled with the zipper of my backpack as much as I did my words. Good thing I planned to head to the gym. I pulled out a pair of sweats from my bag and handed the pants over.

“Thank you.” He stepped right in and I definitely did not watch the fabric glide up his thighs. “Do you happen to live around here?”

My pulse pounded in my ears while I clutched my bag and stared back at him. “Excuse me?”

“You know, so I may return these?” He tilted his head to one side and grinned while he waited for my answer. For someone who looked as if he could crush rocks with his bare hands, he had such an innocent smile.

“Keep them.” Before leaving, I awkwardly attempted a wave, which came out more like a salute. Then I turned on my heel and hiked back up the sandy hill to my bike.

* * *

PHOCA VITULINA, ADULT MALE

I was in deep, deep trouble. A low hiss escaped while I walked along the beach, searching for any sign of my coat. Shedding my sealskin was something I could only execute properly in the water. When an unexpected wave slapped into me while I approached the shallows, there my coat went. Upon coming ashore, I found myself very stranded and very naked. I did not so much mind the nudity, aside from the freezing air. That and, last I checked, the humans did not view this to be socially acceptable public attire. Whenever amongst them, I did my best to adhere to their etiquette.

While seeing a familiar face comforted me, my situation did not improve while the afternoon passed. Thanks to the pants he loaned to me, I felt less cold, but not as warm as I would be back in my coat, which remained missing. All I found so far was a pair of half-buried sandals abandoned in the sand. I would have much preferred happening upon something of mine, or at least more clothes. Pocketing my hands for warmth, I resumed my futile search along the beach. Today looked as if it would be a long day.

Despite my rotten current circumstance, I had one stroke of luck. Of all the beaches and all the humans who could have stumbled upon me, I found myself near him. If I believed in such a human novelty as fate, I would have dared to call this a prime example. I did not. I would admit, however, I was glad he was the one who found me. Of all the humans out there, he was the only one I would consider trusting.

I couldn’t say for sure how long I had been noticing the same man who stopped earlier on a bicycle, but I could say the first time I did. The humans didn’t wander into my territory often; predators, sure, but I’d rather compete with a hungry animal over a nosy boater. Out on the rocky coast, a seal could really relax and enjoy a nap in the sunshine without fear of interruptions. I was doing exactly this one afternoon when I spotted a boat on the horizon. I was not pleased.

Humans on boats usually went fishing, and the last thing I needed was competition for dinner or worse, having to swim for my life. I sleepily watched and waited for quite some time for the sole crewman to do anything other than stare at the horizon. Humans rarely left anywhere empty-handed, but I seemed to have found a fisherman who didn’t fish. Now I had to know what this human wanted.

I slipped into the water and swam close enough to observe him while still maintaining a safe distance. This human busily wrote something down while he occasionally flicked errant strands of dark hair away from the top of his equally dark-rimmed glasses. His bottle-green eyes focused not on me, but on his lap while he scribbled away.

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