Red Rocks Page 7

‘Hey!’ said Jake as he lost his balance and fell onto his backside. He struggled to his feet, disoriented by the scuffle, but his father was intent on the bag and unapologetic.

  Dad held the bag up to his face and sniffed. ‘It pongs. What is it?’ He started to pull the plastic bag off the backpack and Jake tried unsuccessfully to stop him. His father was just too strong and batted him away as if he were an annoying insect. In the struggle, Jake came away with nothing but empty plastic wafting in his face.

  Dad just stood there, staring at the open bag with the sealskin sticking out the top of it. The shower was still running down the hall, and steam started to roll out of the bathroom like mist.

  Jake looked at the sealskin, aghast. Dad’s face betrayed his racing mind; it showed confusion, worry. Jake tried to push away the guilt he was feeling. After all, he had found it, not stolen it; he had nothing to hide, or to be ashamed of. Dad looked up at him and seemed to snap out of a trance. He pointed at Jake, as if telling him not to move a muscle, and backed silently down the hallway to the bathroom, disappearing inside with the bag. Jake heard the shower being shut off and the rattle of the latch as the window opened. Cold air rushed into the house, dispelling the steam and coming for Jake like a wraith. He shivered.

  Dad emerged still clutching the sealskin and still wearing nothing but a towel. He stared at the skin in amazement, then rubbed his cheek against it. He buried his face in and drew a big breath. It would have made Jake gag, he was sure of it, but Dad’s face came away sweetened, as though he had been smelling roses.

  He grabbed Jake’s arm and pulled him into the living room.

  ‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘Wait here.’

  Jake sat on an armchair while Dad put the seal skin down carefully on the couch and left the room. Jake stared at the skin, and thought about jumping up and grabbing it, running out of the house with it. But what sort of trouble would he get in if he did that? Was it worse to leave Cara without her skin or to disobey his father? The more he thought about it, and the longer his father took to come back, the more he realised which was worse. He made up his mind and was preparing to lunge for it when his father came back into the room, dressed. Jake was disturbed by the fact that he hadn’t said anything about it yet. Did he even know what it was?

  ‘So.’ Dad sat down on the couch and put one protective hand over the skin. ‘Tell me. Where did you get it?’

  Jake looked at the floor. ‘I found it. In a cave at Red Rocks.’

  ‘And you know what this is?’

  ‘Of course I do. It’s a sealskin.’

  ‘How long have you had it?’

  ‘Ages. Since my first day at the beach.’

  ‘Oh, Jake.’ His dad gave a big sigh. ‘Why have you had it all this time and not told me?’

  Jake looked up at him, into his eyes. His father had a wild look to him, with his fresh beard and wiry, sticking-out hair. ‘Because it was mine. I found it. Besides, I knew you’d want to take it off me. Give it away to a museum or something. I just wanted to keep it for a while.’

  He couldn’t tell him the truth. That the skin had spoken to him somehow, that it had made him possessive, that it felt like a dark secret that only he should know about. That he had finally worked out what Cara was looking for. And that he had to give it back to her so that she could return to the sea and leave them alone.

  They sat there in silence as, outside, Jake heard the world waking up. A few cars hummed past; a pair of birds fought outside the window. Jake waited for his dad to speak.

  ‘And where were you going with it, Jake?’

  ‘I was putting it back where I found it. So whoever it belongs to can have it back.’

  ‘Whoever it belongs to,’ his father echoed, his voice flat. ‘Do you know who that might be?’

  Jake said nothing, but his cheeks started to get hot. How much did his dad know? Only one way to find out. ‘Do you?’

  Dad stared at him. His face was like a statue’s, immobile stone. Finally, he said quietly, ‘I have an idea.’

  Jake felt like crying. What had he done? If only he’d left the stupid sealskin where it was. Now that it was out of his hands, he began to feel its power over him draining away. He wanted to get it away from Dad, not so he could have it for himself, but so he could get rid of it.

  ‘Is this why you were asking me about the selkies?’ asked his dad.

  Jake couldn’t lie. It was too obvious; would have been too much of a coincidence.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Jessie thought it might belong to someone.’

  ‘Someone who would have to stay in human form if they couldn’t find it. If it was …’ His voice trailed away as he turned his head to gaze out the window. ‘If it was hidden from them.’

  The words Jake wanted to say caught in his throat. He tried to clear it.

  Dad stood up, still looking out the window. He’d be able to see the sea from where he was. He was deep in thought. He tucked the sealskin under his arm.

  ‘I’m going to hold on to this for a while.’

  ‘Dad, please, let me have it back. Let me put it back.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘I said no!’ his father roared at him suddenly, making Jake jump in his chair and a cold sweat spring to his forehead. He’d never heard his dad’s voice so deep, like an animal growl, and for the first time that he could remember, in his whole life, he felt afraid of him. And yet, there was something about his father’s manner that was familiar. It was how he himself had behaved when Jessie had tried to take the skin from him.

  Jake backed from the room, afraid to take his eyes off his father. ‘Can I go now?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Dad, his voice calm again, but flat, like a robot. ‘Yes, that’s a good idea. You go and play with Jessie. Come back later. In time for dinner.’

  Jake wrenched open the front door and fled, slamming it behind him. His bike was around the side of the house, where it had been sheltered from the worst of the storm, but the seat and handlebars were slick and when he sat on it, he felt the water seep into the seat of his pants.

  He pedalled as hard as he could. Every now and then a car coasted by him on the quiet road. The sea was like a polished stone, the waves nothing more than a gentle rise and fall of water. The sound of his breathing filled his ears, keeping time with the swish of his tyres on the gravelly road.

  Once he hit the beach road, his legs began to tire and he was hot, but he pushed on. He passed the small, sad mound of a dead little blue penguin by the side of the road. Normally he would have gotten off his bike to look at it, but this time he didn’t stop. The beach was littered with broken logs and seaweed, thrown up by the storm. He put his head down, and pedalled on. His lungs were burning and his legs were beginning to feel numb by the time he came to Ted’s cabin. Smoke was coming from the chimney, and it was safe; it hadn’t been swept away in the night as he had feared.

  He dumped his bike with a clatter on the path outside the hut and took off his jacket. Then he knocked on the door.

  Ted answered. ‘Jake.’ He looked surprised to see him. ‘Thought we’d seen the last of you. Jessie said you’d had a fight, ya silly kids.’

  Jake’s stomach flipped. ‘Did she say what about?’

  ‘Nope.’ He shook his head. ‘She really didn’t want to tell me, so I left her to her sulk. Haven’t seen her.’

  Jake tried to peer into the cottage. ‘But didn’t she stay here last night?’

  Ted looked caught out. ‘Oh. Yes. Yes, of course. She just got up before I did. Must have slipped out for a walk.’

  Jake jiggled on his toes. ‘I really need to talk to her.’

  Ted looked at him for a few seconds, as if making up his mind about something.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Come in. I’ll go and find her.’

  ‘I can go — where would she be? At the rocks?’

  Ted shot out a hand and grabbed his arm. ‘No, boy. Really. You wait here.’

  Jake
couldn’t argue with the tone of the old man’s voice. He went inside and sat down. Ted made for the door, then hesitated. He crossed back and grabbed some clothes that were drying by the fire, including a black jersey. Then he was gone, the door banging behind him.

  13

  Jake went to the window and watched Ted’s back disappearing in the direction of Red Rocks. He scanned the beach, scared that he would see Cara — what would he say to her if he did? Would he tell her about the skin? Perhaps he shouldn’t have come looking for Jessie and should have looked for Cara instead. But he was here now — he’d wait and see what Jessie had to say. He got himself a drink of water and as he stood drinking it, looked around the room. A glint of gold, behind a pile of newspapers on a shelf, caught his eye. He put the water glass down and went to investigate. It was a photo frame, carefully polished, which seemed strange in the shabby house. In the photograph, a man sat with a little girl on his knee. Beside him was another girl, a few years older, and in the back, a woman. The woman looked a little like Cara, and the older girl a little like Jessie — they had the same pointy faces and dark eyes — but it definitely wasn’t them, and besides, the photograph was black and white so he couldn’t tell what colour their hair was. The man was handsome, with dark hair and a beard. Ted, when he was younger, surely. Something nagged at Jake about the photo, but he couldn’t place it, so he put it back carefully where he had found it, and sat down to wait.

  Soon the door opened and Ted came in with Jessie. She wore holey shorts and the black jumper Ted had taken from by the fire. She didn’t smile when she saw Jake, but turned to the old man and said, ‘You can go now,’ as if he was her servant and she was dismissing him. Jake waited for Ted to tell her off, as his dad would if he spoke to him like that; instead, Ted shrugged, murmured something about going fishing, and left them alone.

  ‘It is about the skin, is it not?’

  Jake nodded. He knitted his hands together, staring at his entwined fingers.

  ‘It’s Cara’s, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘You told her I had it. She’s hanging around us to get it back.’

  ‘No. I did not tell her, Jake. If I had she might have …’ Her voice trailed away and she looked pained. ‘Jake, she would have hurt you. I could not tell her. I am scared of her, of what she could do.’

  ‘Then why was she at my window last night?’

  ‘She has been looking everywhere for it. You have seen her, just walking the streets, the beach, have you not?’

  Jake nodded.

  ‘She has sensed it is near but she does not know for sure. Ted has explained it to me. He says that if a skin is taken, the selkie will be drawn to the person who has it, but may not realise why.’

  ‘So she was drawn to me?’

  ‘Yes, but you are so young. She might think it is your father that is drawing her to your house. She might think she is in love with him. If you put it back where you found it, she will go. If you keep it, Jake, you are in danger. She must not find out that you have it. And she must be able to return to the water, to be with her people, or she will die.’

  Jake sat down and covered his face with his hands. ‘I tried to bring it back. But Dad found it. I think he’s in love with her or something. He wouldn’t let me have it.’

  Jessie went pale. ‘Does he know what she is?’

  ‘I don’t think he did before, but he said he’s lonely. He knows about selkies; he just didn’t believe in them. But I think now he does. I think he’s going to keep it and not let her go.’

  Jessie shook her head sadly. ‘I did not know your father was lonely. I thought he was safe. It is always the lonely men who are the most dangerous. That’s what Ted says.’

  ‘How does he know so much?’

  ‘He just does.’ She did not invite further questions. Jake studied her face. She seemed to have grown up so much in the time they had known each other. She wasn’t like a little kid. Sometimes the way she talked was like a wise old woman.

  ‘You have to steal it back, Jake, and you have to do it soon.’

  Jake was scared to go home. Dad had told him to be home in time for dinner but it was only lunchtime. Still, he had to make a start at looking for the skin. He had left the house without eating anything and he was starving. Jessie stayed at the shack and Jake biked slowly towards home. The wind had started to come up again, and grey clouds were advancing from the ocean like a thick blanket. The beach road was dotted with people out walking, attracted by the sunny morning. Some of them were now looking at the sky, frowning, wondering whether to turn back.

  The car park at the beginning of the beach road was fuller than he had seen before. Dark figures stood in the unmanned information centre, looking at maps and reading about the seals and about the rocks, which were burnished red by iron oxide. Or, according to Maori legend, by the spilled blood of the explorer Kupe and his daughters. What the information didn’t say, thought Jake, was that if you find a sealskin in a cave, leave it there and run for your life!

  He left the car park and crossed the road, his tyres humming. As he came around a corner, he saw two familiar figures standing with their backs to a brick wall, smoking cigarettes. It was the two boys, Mark and his blonde friend, who had been torturing the friendly dog. Just as Jake thought about moving to the other side of the road to avoid them, Mark stepped in front of him. Jake braked and tried to swerve, but Mark grabbed the handlebars as he went past and Jake’s wheels skidded out from under him, knocking him sideways. The gravel road rose up to meet his hands and he felt a sharp pain through his wrist. He rolled to one side to avoid any cars that might come around the corner, and sat up.

  ‘Nice bike,’ sneered Mark. He had a fresh cut on his lip, as if he’d been fighting. ‘What d’ya reckon, Dan? Too good for this dickhead.’ He was still holding the bike, and his friend came to join him.

  ‘I reckon,’ said Dan. He had a sullen face, with small blue eyes and blonde eyelashes, which should have given him an angelic appearance, but somehow had the opposite effect.

  Jake’s face burned and he cradled his sore wrist. Hot tears welled in his eyes. He was furious with himself: he didn’t want to give these boys the satisfaction of making him cry. But the pain was real and he couldn’t help it.

  ‘Please give it back,’ he said. ‘My wrist really hurts.’

  Dan and Mark looked at each other and laughed. ‘So polite!’ said Dan, then his voice kicked into a high and whingey register. ‘Please give it back,’ he mimicked. ‘My wrist really hurts. Boo hoo hoo.’ He rubbed his eyes, pretending to cry. ‘What a baby.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Mark, straddling the bike. Dan jumped on the carrier at the rear, and the two boys wobbled off on it, back in the direction of the beach, cackling.

  ‘Hey!’ called Jake. But the boys made a rude gesture without turning back and disappeared around the corner, leaving Jake there on the ground, rubbing his wrist, with furious tears in his eyes.

  14

  It wasn’t just the pain, or the bullies, that were bringing the tears. Once he started, he couldn’t stop thinking about what a mess he’d gotten himself, and his dad, into. It was all his fault.

  He sat there on the curb for a long time. A few cars went past and the occupants gave him curious looks, but nobody stopped, and the boys didn’t come back. Eventually he stood up and walked towards home, passing the house with the dog. The Labrador was lying at the front doorstep and as Jake went by their eyes met. This time, it didn’t wag its tail, just raised its head and watched him go by.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jake whispered, but the dog just sighed and laid its head back on its paws. Jake wished he could make the dog understand him.

  The front door was locked when he finally got home. He found the key in its hiding place under a loose brick in the wall and let himself in. The house was quiet but Jake knew instantly that Cara had been there. The rooms smelt of the sea. All except Jake’s room, and he breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t been in there. Although, why would she? The s
kin was no longer there.

  He sat down on his bed, feeling sorry for himself. Where was his dad? How could he just go out and leave him like this? He really needed to talk to him, to tell him about the bike, and what the boys had done. Dad would probably call the police. Jake would feel safer once it was out of his hands. He crossed the room to the window and looked out. What if the boys knew where he lived? He really didn’t want to face them again.

  Then it came to him. If Dad was out, and Cara had been here, his father must have hidden the sealskin somewhere. Now was his chance to find it! But where to start?

  Ignoring his rumbling stomach, he went into his dad’s bedroom. The curtains were shut and he disturbed a blowfly, which buzzed lazily from the lightshade to the wall, where it sat watching him. Jake knelt on the floor and looked under the bed. He pulled out a cardboard box, which brought dust bunnies with it, tickling his nose and making him sneeze. But all that the box had inside was a pile of papers — research notes for Dad’s book probably. Jake shuffled through them quickly and something caught his eye. He pulled out a photograph of himself and his dad taken a couple of summers ago. Jake was smiling into the camera, hair bleached by the sun and his freckly nose pink with sunburn. Dad had his arm around Jake’s shoulder and Jake was shocked to see how sad his father looked, as though he might be about to cry. It was not long after his parents had broken up.

  He looks lonely, thought Jake, and dropped the photo back in the box, brushing the thought away. He didn’t have time to be looking through these things. Dad could be back any moment, and worse — Cara could be with him. He had to find the skin before they got back.

  He pushed the box back under the bed, wincing as the pain in his wrist flared again, and stood up. Next, he tried the closet. More boxes, which, once he had struggled to lift and open them with his one good arm, turned out to contain more papers. He sat down on the bed. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought. But of course — why would his dad hide the skin so close? It would have to be somewhere Cara couldn’t find if she went looking.