The Souls of Drowned People

Chapter Thirty Three

Tara and Teague Hayes were sitting on the Coneelly’s couch. The Cooleys were there, too. Siobhan Cooley was in the kitchen with Rachael, rubbing her shoulder. Rachael was ignoring her, hurrying around the kitchen, picking things up, setting them down, running a rag across the already clean counter.

            When the creak of the door signaled my arrival, Tara sprung to her feet. “This is your fault,” she snarled.

            “Tara,” Siobhan warned calmly.

            “You should have gone days ago, when you had the chance! This is your fault.”

            Bridget was sitting in John’s armchair, the ends of her braids soaked as she chewed on them. Her eyes were so red. “Shut up!” she shrieked at Tara.

            “Bridget,” Rachael whispered, and set down her dishrag. She pushed Siobhan away, turning to me. Something broke in her face. The smiling cheeks collapsed. “Moira. Oh, Moira.”

            “You—” Tara started again. Her pointed finger felt more like a bullet aimed at my chest.

            Bridget ran into the kitchen, yanking a chair out from under the table. She jumped up onto it, and screamed, “get out, all of you!” with all the lung strength singing had given her.

             The Cooleys shuffled out first, giving me looks of pity. Tara didn’t move until Teague grabbed her arm.

            “I’ll come by and help out later, Mrs. Coneelly,” he said kindly, not fitting with the glare he was giving his sister. He closed the door behind them.

            Bridget hopped down from her chair, grabbing Rachael by the arm. New tears were streaking down Bridget’s face.

            Cillian. Where’s Cillian?

            Bridget saw his name on my lips. She swallowed. “He’s dead, Moira.”

            My head started spinning. You idiot, I thought. We had everything. We were going to be a legend.

            Bridget rubbed at her eyes. “He was working on the boat. I heard him leaving. I got up and I told him not to go. He was so tired and it’s been raining. And it was so wet. Too wet. We told him not to go, but he did anyway. He slipped and hit his head on something.”

            “It must have happened fast,” Rachael murmured, like that was supposed to make it less painful.

            Nothing would make it less painful. There would be no second chances. No boats. No stories to tell of our epic love. No more love. Nothing was going to be the way it was supposed to be.

            Cillian was dead. Nothing else mattered.

            I should have stayed with them. I should have hugged Bridget and told Rachael I was sorry that her son was dead. But staying wasn’t an option. My heart was wailing in my chest and I ran for the door.

            “Moira, wait!” Bridget screamed after me.

            I couldn’t wait. The selkies wanted me and Cillian was dead, and what was the use in waiting? He had been the only one I wanted, and the darkening waves suddenly seemed very enticing.  

            Before I could climb over the rocks, Bridget pounced toward me in a near tackle, grabbing me by the back of my dress.

            “Moira!” She panting, still sobbing.“You don’t get it, do you? Cillian’s dead.”

            Dead, dead, dead. There was nothing else I needed to understand. Cillian was dead. Everything was over. I would go with Ronan. I would leave Ballycotton with the selkies, leave behind what should have been good memories. If I was lucky, maybe I would die like Iona. Die of a broken heart.

            “He drowned, Moira,” Bridget said. She smiled shakily. “Cillian drowned.”

            It didn’t matter how he died. Cillian was dead. Gone. I continued over the rocks, rejoining Ronan and his family. Bridget continued to run after me.

            Ronan held out his hand to me. I slapped it away.

            “Aren’t you gonna say anything? Aren’t you going to say you’re sorry? Or are you happy now? I can leave with you and forget about Cillian, isn’t that what you wanted?”

            Ronan let his hands drop to his sides. “What are we, Moira?”

            “Selkies,” I said bitterly. “Stupid seal people. We’re dead.”

            Ronan nodded solemnly. “The souls of drowned people, Moira.”

            My mother had wrapped her arms around Bridget. Both of them were crying, sobbing and smiling. Rachael and John were standing  by the door to their house, watching us. Cillian’s hat was clutched in John’s hands.

            Sheenagh nudged my arm, and tilted her head in the direction of the water.

            More seals had gathered  on the rocks, staring at us. Sheenagh took Aisling’s arm and they skipped into the water, their seal skins tossed over their shoulders. They popped up again with their sleek coats, and the other seals splashed into the water to join them, slipping off the rocks. The whole pack of them was there, turning away from Ballycotton.

            One seal remained sprawled across the rocks. He was darker than the rest of them, his coat shimmering like tar in the sunlight that was starting to peel through the clouds. He had green in his eyes. I had never seen a seal with eyes that were anything but black.

            The seal raised his head. He seemed to be smiling at me.

            “You idiot,” I murmured, and picked up my skin from the ground. I brushed past Ronan, past my mother and Bridget, and into the water. Seal skin had never felt so soft, so warm.

            “I love you,” I whispered, touching the shell necklace that was somehow still around his neck.

            Cillian grinned, and hopped into the water to join me. He swam off, twisting through the water with the newfound freedom, and I struggled into my skin, darting after him.

            I looked down into the dark water. I could barely see the bottom. It was deep, black, filled with secrets. There was so much to explore. And I wouldn’t have to do it alone.

            There was so much to do. I would collect seashells, and make myself headbands and necklaces. I would make one for Cillian, with shells far more beautiful than the ones he had given to me. I would sit on the rocks and watch the villages, thinking about what used to be home. The children would talk about us, someday. We were going to be a legend. Someday, I was going to find my father and the rest of them. We would swim together, forever, creating our own secrets. 

~ Well. It's over. I can't read this without picturing them swimming off into the sunset as little seals and arrgh, I don't care if it's cheesy, I think it's adorable. But as it turns out, I'm actually gonna change the ending to something pretty different than this. I'm actually going to change a lot of this story, but more on that to come later :) For now, just thank you to everyone who has read this story. I love you so much.

Elle ~