Seacliff

Chapter eighty-two: Full moon blues

1940

In preparation for the parade, Pauline spent most of the day cooking. The 'carousing' had already started in parts of the colony, so her only helpers were Aidan and school-age selkies, too young to participate in the festivities. They all loved being around Pauline, though, and quickly took a liking to the newcomer, as well.

"You really are good with children," Pauline noted as she chucked another batch of bread loaves in the oven.

Aidan cast an affectionate glance at the group huddled around Pauline's cauldron of tomato sauce.

"They're making me miss my sister," he said, "but then also helping fill that hole. It's... odd."

"Aww," Pauline cooed and reached up to pinch his cheek. "You're adorable."

The cooking continued in full force until dusk, when the fruits of their labour were transferred to a secluded clearing in the woods. Logs were stacked up for a campfire in the centre.

"They'll be here soon," Pauline said, looking at the sky. "With the full moon. Should I take you back to my hut? If you're out after sundown, well..."

Aidan scratched at his nape. "I, um... Yes, I think that would be wisest."

Pauline nodded with a smile and motioned for him to follow her. First, she stopped to pile food in a basket for him, then took a detour through the trees to fill a pair of waterskins from a stream they crossed. Inside her hut, she showed him her stash of books and the electric lantern she used for reading them.

"Thank you," he told her. "I do believe I shall be quite entertained. Have fun at the parade."

Pauline wiggled her eyebrows, the gesture now becoming her trademark in his mind. "Suppose I'll see you tomorrow. You might be fast asleep by the time I come back."

Aidan stepped outside to see her off, waving. Pauline skipped over rocks, tree stumps, and moss-covered trunks. She disappeared into the darkness of the forest and he remained gazing at the stars overhead. The full moon had never affected him like he'd heard his father tell, but Aidan felt particularly vulnerable tonight.

Grieving in a completely unfamiliar place, with little comfort and no idea what the future might bring... Grateful for Pauline's friendship, yet alienated from this foreign world she inhabited... He'd never really been a selkie and he'd never really been a human. That conflict of his identity had never weighed more heavily on his soul than now.

Dinner distracted him briefly, only for his head and heart to hurt when he picked up a book of poems. Poetry had never made him cry before, so he blamed it on the full moon. Sniffling, Aidan shut the book and crawled out of the hut.

Silver stripes criss-crossed on the forest floor, reminiscent of a tartan. Aidan wished he'd brought one from Scotland. He wished even more that he could write to his mother and made a mental note to ask Pauline about it in the morning.

Absent-minded, he walked round the hut to the tall boulder standing guard behind it. It protected the dwelling from harsh winds and was sure to offer an enviable vantage point across the woods. Aidan scaled it with caution, feeling for nooks and ridges to enable his climb.

Up top, the unimpeded view of the full moon took his breath away. Renewed tears stained his cheeks.

"Are you all right, lad?"

His father's voice startled Aidan. He glanced down at Sorley.

"Hey, Da. Where have you been?"

Sorley smiled. "Catching up with old friends."