An ease relaxed the atmosphere after my lighthearted comment, pervading the conversation like cream through black coffee. Neither Terry nor Ray asked aloud what they certainly were wondering, but the seeding the idea that I was 'in the know' intrigued them enough to lay off about my boyfriend.
"If I brought Morgan out here, she'd complain the whole time," Terry muttered, settling back after Ray caught our third fish of the day: another steelhead, "You really don't mind the lot of us geezers?"
"Not in the slightest," I shrugged, sifting through the photos I'd taken of Ray's fish. I pocketed the device, satisfied, "All I ask is that I torment you with photographic documentation. Scott, where's your fish? Are you trying to spite me?"
"Nope," he said, conspicuously looking the other way.
"I'll get you yet."
"Yeah, yeah."
"She'll get a second Coho before you snag anything," Terry chuckled.
"There you go! He can hold your spoils for you in the group photo!"
Ray laughed and Scott sagged morosely back into his chair.
"I haven't been outdone yet. We still have the better part of the afternoon."
I perked up at the sound of an engine over the rush of flowing waters. It wasn't quite loud enough for the humans to hear just yet, but loud enough to determine that the car's engine was old. The noise lingered long enough for me to deduce that it was idling; a newcomer had entered the park area. The sound eventually cut off and I listened closely to the path for the soft footfalls that would track out.
On the edge of my seat, I waited. Silence.
It was the subtle clatter of stones almost directly behind us that finally made me jump from my seat, raise both fists, and turn around, wide-eyed.
"Hey," the man raised both his hands in surrender.
A hefty clatter signaled the drop of a cooler he'd been carrying.
"Ho!" Terry huffed, hand over his heart.
"Damn it all, Caleb," Ray breathed out.
Caleb scratched the back of his head self consciously, still keeping one palm aloft. Both hands were weathered and calloused but clean. Well, aside from some dirt or oil smudges around the fingernails. Likely permanent from whatever craft that had roughened them up.
Like his father, Caleb had long black hair, with casually loose strands about his face that showed he let it grow a little longer. The rest was tied up into a messy bun at the back of his head. Though that messiness had a carefree air to it rather than a true disorganization. He had the same tone of tan skin as Ray, but perhaps a little richer given his youth. He stared at me in open curiosity, with brown eyes framed by thick black lashes.
"Caleb, Sara, Sara, Caleb," Ray prompted when neither of us moved.
I swallowed, then eased up to offer my hand to him. He blinked, his full lips parting as if to say something, but didn't manage it. Instead, he dwarfed my hand with his large one. Immediately, my palm was smothered with a deep heat.
I almost gasped, but worked hard to temper my surprise:
Skinchanger!
The supernatural species that, like the mammalian species they most commonly morphed between, ran at temperatures hotter than humans. There had been marine-mammal skin changers documented and even some reptilian, but I could tell by temperature that Caleb could change into a land-mammal of some kind.
Scott cleared his throat, making the pair of us jump. I dropped his hand.
"Can you grab our lunches from the cooler, Sara?" Scott asked instead, offering me an out.
"Sure," I said quickly, moving around Ray's chair.
"For Terry and Ray," Caleb said, his rich tenor voice taking up a showman's gusto, "Dungeness Crab Cioppino."
"What!" I exclaimed, nearly dropping Scott's lunchbox.
"What, what!?" Caleb asked, alarmed again.
"Cioppino," I repeated, my accent emphasizing the 'p' sound in the word.
"Uh, sorry. I guess I didn't say it the fancy way."
"Not that, I mean, it's an Italian-American dish, right?!"
I could almost feel my hair frizz a bit with excitement.
"Sara here is half-Italian," Scott boasted as I handed him his lunch, "I've been told that the accent is fading a bit compared to when she first moved here, but I feel that I still hear it."
"So you're the expert?" Caleb asked.
A perfectly-understanding smile stretched across his cheeks. The expression warmed his eyes further, making them sparkle.
"N-no," I shook my head, sitting back down with my own lunch as Caleb moved to Ray with the other thermos, "Not at all."
"Aw, don't be shy."
"I know how to cook a few things. That's all."
Cioppino wasn't a common dish in Italy outside of tourist destinations. And even then it was made differently. I watched Ray unscrew the thermos; visible heat curled up from the mouth of the container, swirling tantalizingly in my direction.
"Surely you've had it before," Caleb pressed, settling himself on the top of the cooler behind Ray and me.
"Yes," I lied vaguely.
Unzipping my own bag revealed a thermos of my own.
"What's that?"
"Minestrone," I said softly.
"That's one big thermos," he noted, cocking his head to inspect it, then letting his eyes trail up to my face, "You're really going to eat all that?"
I avoided his gaze.
"Yes."
"Good appetite," he said appreciatively.
"Sara's a junior at Homer High School," Scott prompted, his voice a little on the sharper side, "She's going to pursue nursing after graduating, she says."
"That's the dream," I chuckled awkwardly as Caleb raised his eyebrows and leaned back with a frown, "Are you a chef?"
"Ah, no," he said, crossing his arms and - seemingly with great effort - looked away, "That's just a hobby I enjoy. I'm a mechanic; I work at Downings, but I hope to have my own shop one day."
"A mechanic," I echoed, thinking back to the car I'd heard come in, "Do you work on antiques too?"
He snorted, "They're only technically vintage; they're mainly rescued scrap. None have real value other than getting you from point A to point B."
"My Jeep is actually due for an oil change pretty soon; where is Downings?"
"Soldotna, western side of the city."
"Oh... farther than I expected. You commute that?"
"Yeah, but you don't have to go up that far. An oil change is easy. I can take care of it for you."
"Thanks," I murmured, noting the odd, fluttering anxiety in my belly, "I might take you up on that."
It was then that I noticed Ray, the way his spoon sat frozen in his hand above the thermos, how his eyes darted between Caleb and me.
"Eat," Caleb insisted, nodding to my untouched thermos.
Again, I glanced curiously at Ray's soup, noting the tomato-based scent on the air.
"Do you want to trade, kid?"
I blushed.
"Go on," Ray encouraged, setting the spoon into the dish to trade, "I haven't taken a bite yet."
"Thanks."
He opened the lunch I'd brought and inhaled, "This smells really good. It's minestrone, you said?"
"Mmhm," I confirmed, inhaling the seafood soup-scent I'd just earned, "This smells like seafood."
"Clams; littlenecks and razors."
"Ah," I said, taking a spoonful and blowing at it.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Caleb watching, almost not blinking in his eagerness. I set the spoon in my mouth. It bit with a hearty and distinct brine. The flavor's complimented by the acid of the tomato and lifted by the spice of jalapeno peppers, perhaps.
"It's really good."
Caleb's tentative smile turned into a beam as he propped his forearms on his knees and leaned into the conversation.
"You're new to town then?"
"Came in at the end of August."
"Been here a little over a month and she's already run into trouble," Scott chuckled and I winced.
"Why? What happened?"
"It ain't my story, but it was the bear incident over near the National Forest a few weekends back. I remember the pair of you - " he pointed an accusatory finger from Ray to Terry " - were chittering like canaries about all the incidents that went down that weekend. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were park rangers and police officers yourselves."
"I'd expect you to be more concerned, Chief."
"I am but I can't talk about an ongoing investigation with civilians."
"Ongoing?" I echoed with a frown, "I thought it was just a bear attack."
"I'm not at liberty to discuss," Scott said, raising his hands defensively, "But if you want to tell these old gossips your story, go ahead."
"There's not much more to say about it. I encountered a bear, probably the bear, and got away."
"You were in real danger," Caleb piped up suddenly and his face leeched of good-humor. "Were you hurt?"
"Just a cut," I said, shaking my head, "Really..."
"What happened?" Ray asked.
His face had grown ashen too.
"I was hiking and a bear thundered through the woods toward me. It wasn't all that fast though, and while it was aggressive, it seemed dizzy."
"Look," Caleb rumbled slowly, hands clasped together in front of his mouth; it had become a thin line, "If you want to go hiking, I'll take you. But you really shouldn't go alone or with anyone who doesn't know those woods like the back of their hand."
"I know my way around a forest - "
"You don't know your way around these forests."
I frowned at him, trying not to take offense as I realized something: if this skinchanger was worried about me, did that mean they worried about all humans?
"My friends from around here talk about hitting the common trails all the time - "
"People are more at risk now than they ever were," he insisted, eyes pleading with me, "Tell your friends as much; there's something going 'round in the animal population out there. We made national news this summer over disappearances. People should really be smarter about this by now."
"But you said you could take me?" I raised an eyebrow.
"I know how to prepare," he backed away from the intensity he'd had just a moment ago, "Even the kids who grew up in town - they don't know how to properly be out in the woods right now."
"Trevor Locke's family owns that camping supply; I'm sure he knows- "
"Sara," he growled and I sat bolt-upright in alarm, nearly spilling the soup. Immediately he bit his lower lip, "Sorry."
"I get it. I won't go."
"Thank you," he breathed, his shoulders finally relaxing.
Confusion fizzled in my gut. Then again, he was only one of many; he might not speak for the others.
"You like hiking then?" Ray probed.
His pulled lips made it clear he was trying to break the tension.
"Yes, a great deal," I enthused, pulling out my phone to proffer my photos, "I like to take pictures to remember my trips. Even when I'm walking my property in the mornings, I'll stumble on something that intrigues me. Yesterday I came across some out-of-season lamalis."
I showed him.
"Ah-ha. That's the one!"
"May I see?" Caleb asked.
I gave Ray permission to pass over my phone.
"Morgan loves that plant," Terry noted.
"The tribe loves that plant," Scott corrected, raising his eyebrows, "It's a sacred flower, isn't it?"
"It's our 'state plant' so to speak," Ray confirmed, "But Terry's right; Morgan makes the best lamalis tea."
"Lamalis is one of my favorites," I enthused, smiling softly.
The stuff had a tendency to give off a mild burn on the way down. I could only consume it due to decades of built-up immunity, given its aversion to the vampire venom in my veins, but over time it became much like any other spice: an acquired taste. Too much of it could still kill me, however.
"I bought some just recently from a shop up in Kenai."
"My Morgan is partnered with a shop there!"
"Really? You're saying I bought her tea?"
"I can't remember the shop's name, but it's an... alternative-themed establishment," Terry mused on the thought in a suddenly-wary manner, "Not sure I buy into that stuff. And she said the shopkeep was a little off-putting."
"I can see how she'd think that," I hedged.
"Why'd you visit a shop like that?" Scott wondered.
"Uh, one of my friends is having some bad dreams."
"Exercise more!"
"If only that had worked," I shrugged.
You couldn't exorcize a spirit with push-ups. Catalina still needed me to come by for the cleansing, but scheduling was still impossible. The howlite stone under her pillow was helping her and her sister get some sleep back, but odd items were being displaced around the house now. The spirit was escalating.
A harsh click resounded from Caleb's teeth and I turned to inspect him curiously. He held my phone, knuckles white and eyes hard.
"Who's this," he asked, voice hard as if he already knew the answer.
He turned the phone to show me the screen and I noted that his hand shook ever so slightly. He'd been scrolling through the photos. The one on-screen was of Mason and I at the marine center, hands in the water, cradling the hermit crab.
"That's my boyfriend."
This escalated Caleb's trembling. He managed to give my phone back to me before balling his fists and crossing his arms tightly.
"He looks a little old for you."
"We're about the same age," I noted.
"Yeah," he snorted, "Seventeen, huh."
Ray shot his son a warning glance, but Caleb wasn't looking at him. Instead his hardened eyes fixated on the running river.
"I'll be a year older come January," I muttered, then shot back, "How old are you?"
"I'll turn twenty-five in October."
"You'll be nineteen when you graduate, Sara?" Scott wondered, raising an eyebrow.
"Er, yes," I shifted in my seat, testing my line after another bite of soup, "I was set back a year."
"Homeschooling program ain't up to par?"
I shook my head.
"I took a year break from school," I fibbed softly, gripping the thermos tightly.
As if I'd be able to get back on my feet after a year of mourning; I might as well dig my own grave and slowly rot. Though, perhaps none at all hadn't been the correct choice either.
"O-oh, right," Scott nodded, taking another bite of his sandwich to compensate for the awkwardness.
"Are you good?" Caleb asked, his tenor husky with worry.
When I checked the status of his shaking, I realized that he'd entirely reigned himself in.
"I'll be fine."
"So you're not alright."
"Not right now," I spared him a brief, placating smile after another sip of my soup, "But I will be, so don't worry."
His lips popped open again as he took in my expression, but again, he didn't come up with anything to say.
"There's plenty to do," I continued, turning to stare out at the river, "There's a Car Wash the Friday after next, a bonfire down on Stellar Campground the Friday before Halloween, a talent show in November just before Thanksgiving, and a Christmas concert before winter vacation. You're all invited; we're trying to raise money for the winter formal among other things."
"Do you need chaperones?" Caleb asked. I gave him a skeptical look, "What?"
"Why would you willingly chaperone teenagers?"
"Helping out the community?" he shrugged, leaning back and biting his lip with a chagrined crinkle of his nose.
I narrowed my eyes.
"You can do that by bringing your 'vintage' car around for a wash and making a donation. You don't have to torture yourself by standing around at a high school dance. You'd make it weird, anyway."
His jaw worked, but he stayed silent with a downturned gaze.
"The van needs a wash too," Ray said, embarrassed.
"Will you be in the talent show, Sara?" Terry asked.
"Yes," I decided on the spot, "Why not?"
"What's your talent?" Caleb wondered.
"Pay and find out."
"I'll be there."
Caleb stayed until packing time, sitting dutifully on the cooler and grabbing up the net when Ray caught our second Coho salmon of the day. He offered to take a group photo of us. We each held our catch; Scott holding Ray's smaller fish. As the sun sank toward the tops of the trees, we collected our site.
"I'll have better luck next time," Scott sighed, throwing his packed chair over a shoulder.
"Can't catch 'em all, Scott," Caleb soothed.
Floored, I watched as he near-one handedly scooped Ray into a fireman's carry over his shoulders, as if his father weighed nothing. The elder gentleman lay comfortably, as if they'd done this many times before. Caleb then took the strap of Ray's fold-out chair and wrapped it round his fist. I tried not to stare at the feat. Instead, I picked up the fishing gear and followed behind with the cooler.
"You alright there, Sara?" Caleb called.
"Mhm," I hummed, following them back out through the rushes. Even so, once he'd set Ray down in his wheelchair, he swiftly took the cooler from me. "Thanks."
"No problem."
When we were back in the dirt lot, I was finally able to lay eyes on the loud car I'd heard earlier: a rusty-red, tank of a pickup.
"This thing looks like it could survive a nuclear blast," I giggled, running my fingers over the worn paint of the hood as I passed.
"Don't hate on the truck," he chastised good-naturedly, lifting the cooler and strapping it into the bed, "I fixed it up myself."
"Not a dig at all. It reminds me of simpler times."
Caleb watched me raptly, leaning on the edge of his truck bed as I rounded the car.
"Some help over here, Cal!" Ray called from the other side of Scott's cruiser, trying to reach for the ramp that had been tucked just a little too far into the belly of the van.
"Be right there."
I moved to help Scott pack and secure the fishing poles. All the while, I kept my ear pricked toward the hushed tones that arose from the pair as Terry packed. To their credit, their voices were low enough to be undetectable to Scott, but not to me.
"You alright, kid?" Ray murmured, his back to me but tilting his head toward his son.
"Y-yeah."
"You were only supposed to drop off lunch; what made you stay?"
Caleb stayed silent as his dad ascended the ramp he'd expertly placed. Ray hesitated at the top, turning his head to view his son more fully. I kept my own face down, reaching to better pack our lunches into the limited space.
Ray's face suddenly drained of color, "Did you...?!"
"I-I... yeah..." I frowned at Caleb's confirmation, curious at the unspoken understanding between the two. "W-what do I do?"
Ray's gaze flipped up to me as I slammed the cruiser trunk shut and met his gaze with a friendly goodbye wave. He returned the gesture with a chalky face and a hesitant smile.
"Minimal contact is best for the time being. For your safety and hers. It just... doesn't normally happen with someone so young."
"She's clearly struggling and needs help. And with her dating a vampire? I can't -"
"You must. We'll help you, son."
Worry shot through me as I recognized the cautious measures. My hands rested on the top of the passenger door, hesitant as I gazed over at the father-son pair. Ray met my eyes and I dropped my face, instead staring into the car as panicked thoughts barreled through my mind.
To choose a mate so quickly... it must be that kind of mating system among their kind. Perhaps that was how they maintained their rare genetic lineage.
"If it's any consolation, she appears to be interested in you too," Ray continued, his tone low, bittersweet, "But she is young. She needs time and space. We'll help you keep it to a bearable minimum."
Caleb lifted his head, turning to glance over in my direction just as I lifted my eyes. I blushed at being caught and ducked my head again, hastily sliding into the passenger seat.
"Alright," Scott huffed, rubbing his hands together and turning over the engine, "I hope you had fun."
"I did!"
"It seemed to me that Caleb took a shine to you."
A shine?
The blush in my cheeks deepened as I assumed his meaning.
"You noticed too, huh?" I whispered.
"I've known Ray a long time, and Caleb since near he was born," Scott said, painfully naive to the skinchangers' enhanced hearing as he backed out of the lot, "He's a safe sort of person."
"Safe?"
"A good man," he caught himself, then, "But still, if the boys your age aren't mature enough for you, just wait until they are to date 'em. Like I said."
"Got it."
My stomach sank as I watched Caleb's car retreat in the cruiser's rear-view mirror. Poor guy must think he was a freak; if he only knew how old I really was. What I was... I swallowed back flutters.