As Yet Untitled
“What exactly are you wanting from me?” She fingered her keys while watching him carefully. Her confusion was starting to give way to suspicion. Why tell her all of this? It couldn’t just be random. He couldn’t trust a total stranger so much, could he?
“I am asking for your assistance.”
Oh, shit. That’s what she had been afraid of. And it probably just got better and better. “In what way?”
His stone cold black eyes never left hers, making her feel trapped and more vulnerable than was comfortable. “I am, at present time, stuck here-”
“On land.” She said with the pretense of clarification, but in reality was testing how solidly he would stick to his story.
“Yes.” His sharp eyes missed nothing and she felt as though all her thoughts were exposed.
She shifted uneasily and managed to tear her eyes from his entrapment. “Go on.”
“As I was saying, I am stuck here until my skin is returned to me. You may imagine that leaves me in a rather bleak position.”
She frowned up at him, “How so?”
His eyes bore into her and she felt as though her intelligence was being undermined, “I am without shelter, food, and proper clothing, and I have no idea of how long I may be stuck here. I do not know any humans in these parts that may help me.”
“Oh dear.” She bit her bottom lip, “But why did you pick me?”
“You are the first human I came across after discovering the theft of my skin.”
She wasn’t sure what she had expected to hear, either that she was special or that he liked her for some reason, but what she got wasn’t anywhere close. It could have been anyone as far as he was concerned. Male or female, young or old, pretty or not…there was nothing special in his selection of her.
Illusions firmly shattered, she singled out her car key on the chain and unlocked the driver’s side.
“Well, I’m certain the second human you come across will be more helpful to you. Sorry and have a good night.” She opened the car door and tossed her towel in.
His open palms hit the roof of the car from the other side. “You will not help me?”
She hesitated and then made the mistake of meeting his eyes again. They burned with some fiery light she could not quite identify. It wasn’t desperation or hurt or betrayal. They just burned, deep into her own mind and she could almost swear she felt the effects in her very soul.
“Or is it that you don’t believe me?” He said quietly. He didn’t move, but as his voice lowered she felt strangely as though he had moved closer, as if he were crowding her.
And in that moment she discovered something rather horrifying. She did believe him. She did not know how or for what reason, but she did believe.
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. It was like being a fish out of water, knowing what she had to do, what she needed to do, but being unable to do more than flop about in confusion.
She cursed suddenly and threw herself down into the car. She reached across the passenger seat to unlock and open the adjacent door. “Get in.”
He slid in next to her and dragged the door closed.
“What is your name, anyways?”
“My name?”
She started the engine and adjust the air dials for something a little warmer, “Yeah. You know, what does your family call you?”
He shook his head briefly, “That would not be easily pronounced with a human tongue.”
“Well what do they call you on land?” She put the car in reverse and the slid of the parking space.
He looked at her steadily and said without emotion, “We do not speak much on land.”
She frowned, “What do you do on land?”
“Sing, frolic, dance.” The last word seemed layered with meaning as they stared at one another.
All she could think of was her own dance on the beach. How that could compare to the dancing of magical creatures she didn’t want to imagine.
“Well,” she said slowly, “What would you like me to call you?”
He shrugged, an unnatural lift of his shoulders that he didn’t seem entirely comfortable with,
“Whatever you wish. It matters not to me.”
She sighed, “Not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
“I am being difficult?” He frowned.
“Not at all.” She sighed again.
“I am unfamiliar with your tone, but it does not sound as if you mean what you say.”
“It’s called sarcasm.” She kept her eyes trained on the road, glad for a reason not to meet his gaze, “What, seals don’t practice it?”
“No, we are a very straightforward lot.”
“I’m noticing.” She commented dryly.
~.~.~
So, you see, these characters are very interesting and have about %60 of my life's attention, (Another %20 is for my actual job, %10 on eating and sleeping, %5 on not going to jail for homicide and the last %5 is taken up on keeping track of the rest).
I am afraid it really leaves no room for idle scraps. But I will try to share more of this project in the next few weeks.
Commentary appreciated!
