Tortus Bay

3.10: Intervention

The truth hung heavy around Henry's neck. He related his dream to Niles—so vivid in his mind that it felt like recalling memory—but the man didn't seem interested in talking about it. All he wanted to discuss was their plans for the next festival: healing Henry's shoulder, maybe taking a look at the tortoises down by the shore, and so on and so forth. So he sat inside, curled alone in bed, and quietly dreaded the passing of time. He often found himself wishing that he had not learned the plan. Never tempted the dreams. He devised fantastical scenarios in which he might have walked blindly into his fate, and given Emmaline what she desired without becoming intimate with the strife of choice.

One morning he woke to an unexpected commotion in the living room. He turned over. The alarm clock flashed one in the afternoon. Squeaking and scraping, the noise picked up. Was Niles moving furniture around? Were those voices?

He stepped out a dishevelled mess, and was met with a collection of sombre faces. Niles, seemingly caught somewhere between anxiety and embarrassment, stepped forward. "I love you, Henry," he said. "You haven't been yourself lately. I know it's difficult to talk about, but from what I've heard, the pieces aren't hard to put together. We're all here because we're worried about you. Please, tell us that you aren't considering what we think you might be."

Clair rolled her eyes. "Tell us you're not about to kill yourself."

Henry hovered in the doorway. "It's not that simple."

"Seems simple enough to me," Clair said.

"This is why Emmaline called me here."

"To what? Walk out into the ocean like she did?"

"That's what she wants."

"Does it seem like I give a fuck about that? Do you think any of us do?"

"If I don't, the things that make Tortus Bay special will fade away. Her magic will leave. All of your magic will."

Clair popped up off the couch. Niles laid a hand on her shoulder. "We thought that's how you might feel," he said. "We're here—we're all here—to explain what we think. Clair, tell him. Henry, no more talking. Just listen."

"I haven't known you very long," she said. "None of us have, but in particular I spent a while hiding out in the woods. There are times that I've hated Tortus Bay. You know that. I've wanted to be able to leave with every ounce of my being, but that trade-off isn't worth it. I would rather be stuck here forever than be anywhere else at your expense. And if you can't see that, then you really are stupid."

Aria stood up next. "I also haven't known you for very long. For some of it, I think you might have hated me—and for good reason. I didn't believe in you. I thought you were another wash-out who wandered into our village and would wander back out before anyone noticed your presence. But I was wrong. You've changed more about this village in the short months you've been here than it's changed in all the time I've been alive. And for my money, all of it has been for the better. Now you want to die to preserve the status quo? What a waste."

Lola and Sofia held hands. Only the elder sister spoke, staring determinedly down at the carpet. "Everyone else seems to be saying it, but I'm pretty sure I know you the least of everybody in this room. But I came, because I think you're important. You've meant a lot to me, at least. Don't do it, okay?"

Teresa placed a hand on her daughter's head. "When I first met you, and saw that wound on your shoulder, I knew interesting times would be coming. I never could have guessed how interesting they would be. I built my life on this village's magic. I've helped many, many people with it. But please understand that I did so because there was no other choice. You think that every time I treat a patient with a broken bone, or a chronic illness, I don't wish I could send them to a hospital instead? If without your sacrifice the magic of Tortus Bay will fade, that will indeed be a loss. But as a healer, a friend, and a fellow human being, I need you to understand that the loss of a life is so much deeper."