Matt Hlinak - DoG

The girl emerged from Alistair’s bedroom wearing Julia’s bathrobe, which was far too large for her. Culann looked away from the exposed tanned skin of her neck and collarbones, and the brown curls that cascaded down her shoulders. He took a drink of club soda, having foresworn alcohol until the girl was gone.

“My name is Nereida, by the way.”

He nodded.

“Do you have a name?” she asked with a smile as she slid onto the barstool next to him.

“Culann.”

“That’s an interesting name. Does it mean anything?”

“It’s from Celtic mythology.”

“That’s cool,” she said, “My name comes from mythology, too.”

“I know.”

“I get it. You don’t like to talk. That’s why you live all by yourself out here.”

Culann nodded. It was simpler to have her think that he was some antisocial recluse than a man whose craving for a drink was surmounted only by his craving for her flawless young body. The less they spoke, the easier it would be for him to pretend she wasn’t there. Unfortunately, Nereida didn’t seem to care much for silence.

“Where did you get this bathrobe? Did you have a wife who died, and that’s why you’re a hermit?”

Culann couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, that’s it.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yeah. To be such a romantic that you can’t live a normal life without her.

She must have been very beautiful.”

“How old are you?” Culann asked.

“Thirteen.”

“Jesus Christ,” he said with a cough. “What were you doing out there all by yourself?”

“I’m trying to set the record for the youngest girl to sail solo around the world.

I’m doing a practice run from California to Alaska and back, and then next year I’m going for the record.”

“Are you serious?” Culann turned to face her. “What do your parents have to say about this?”

Nereida rolled her eyes as if she’d been asked this question a thousand times.

“My parents think kids are too overprotected nowadays. Everybody’s so afraid of child molesters and stuff that they hide their kids away and never give them the chance to grow up. If I can do this, I will accomplish more at fourteen than most people do in their entire lives.”

Her acorn-brown eyes sparkled when she spoke. She oozed ambition. Culann could see she was the type of person who was destined for greatness, if only she had more than one day to live. He shook his head.

“If you were my daughter, I’d never let you do anything so crazy. Think how awful your parents would feel if something happened to you.”

Culann’s words surprised him. For the first time in a long time, he’d forced himself to imagine how another person felt, to see the world through strangers’ eyes.

He’d stopped thinking about himself. Nereida stopped being some sea nymph sent to tempt him. She was a child, and he was again a teacher, a man entrusted with children and who was committed to shepherding them safely into adulthood. He needed to figure out a way to send her home to her family. Alive.

Culann and Nereida stood on the dock near Culann’s floating keg. The brief night had ended, and the sun again shone down upon them. Culann had ordered the dogs to stay ashore, so they stared impatiently at their master from land. Culann eased himself to a sitting position and removed his shoes and socks. He still wasn’t quite sure he could trust himself around Nereida, so he left his jeans and t-shirt on.

“What are you doing?” she asked for the third time.

“Just taking care of something,” he again replied.

Culann slid into the water, feeling the sharp cold devour him. If he stood on his tiptoes, he could just barely keep his mouth above the waterline. The water was too dark and salty for him to open his eyes underwater. He had a general idea where he’d thrown it, but feeling around the silty bottom with his toes was a hard way to find it.

“Can I at least help you with whatever you’re doing?” Nereida called down. “Not to be conceited or anything, but I think I’m a lot better swimmer than you.”

“No, stay there. This might be dangerous.”

“Dangerous? What are you doing?”

“Please be quiet. I need to concentrate.”

Nereida sighed and folded her arms across her chest. Culann shut his eyes and focused on the sand sliding over his toes. He narrowed his focus and felt the individual grains as he pressed his feet into the bottom. Then he concentrated on just one grain of sand at the end of his big toe.

“Where is it?” he whispered.

The grain of sand told him.

Culann hopped forward until his left foot struck the unmistakable surface of the orb. He took a breath and pushed himself beneath the surface, using his damaged limbs to propel to the bottom. He slid his good left hand under the orb and clamped down on it from above with his right. He strained against the water pressure above to wrest it from the seabed.

When his head broke the surface, Nereida had cast off Julia’s bathrobe and was preparing to dive into the water.

“Stay there,” Culann said with a gasp of exertion.

She scowled at him, but complied. He hopped back to the pier, just barely keeping his mouth above the surface, while cradling the orb to his belly. The extra weight slowed him down, and his eyes focused on Nereida’s undisguised expression of impatience as he made his way to her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Just something I dropped. Now please stay back.”

He reached the pier, which stood a good two feet above the waterline. With one great surge, Culann kicked his legs and hefted the orb up and onto the pier before sliding back into the water.

“What is that thing?” Nereida asked, inching closer.

“Don’t touch it. I’ll be right up.”

With another surge, Culann shot up, grabbed the edge of the pier with his left hand, and pulled himself up so that his elbows rested on the planks while the rest of him dangled over the edge. He caught his breath for a few moments and then kicked with his legs and straightened his arms, but his right hand couldn’t bear the weight. He dropped back to his elbows and resumed dangling off the side.

“You need some help?” Nereida asked with a smirk.

“Yes,” Culann replied. “But please don’t touch the orb. I am not joking — it’s very dangerous.”

She cast a wary glance at the orb before crouching down and grabbing Culann under the right arm. He pushed with his left arm and kicked his legs while she pulled.

After a brief struggle, the two knelt on the deck, panting side by side over the orb.

“Now what?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but stay back.”

Culann sat before the orb as it rested on the dock. The symbols had once again changed. They’d formed into six stick-figures of dogs, like those seen in cave paintings, with triangular features emphasizing the teeth. He held his hands on each side like a fortune-teller with a crystal ball, massaging the ethereal etchings on its surface. Thick, gray clouds blew in from the sea, enveloping the sun. Nereida knelt a few feet away, craning to see what he was doing. Thunder rumbled all around them, and rain poured down. Culann focused all of his attention on his fingertips as they worked their way across the strange symbols covering the orb. After a few moments, he felt ten tiny jolts of electricity, one in each finger. The orb was listening. Culann just needed to figure out what to say.

“Okay,” he started, “let’s just get something straight off the bat. I’m not like the Captain.”

“Who’s the Captain?” Nereida asked. “What are you talking about?”

Culann ignored her and continued, “I am not trying to dominate you or harness your power. I just have a simple request.”