| |
Myna surveyed the room that had been her parents’ bedroom. The kitchen furniture and items had been easy to sort through, the best items stored for when Ebba grew up, those still functional passed on to a young, soon-to-marry couple, the rest piled up on a bonfire heap.
But this room...Myna sighed. She should have dealt with it earlier, when they’d first moved Father out to live with them.
Now the room stank of must and mould, cobwebs gathered in all the corners and dust coated every surface and danced in the rays of light sneaking through the door.
Myna hadn’t been bothered at the time. She hadn’t wanted to leave her active toddler and senile father in the care of any of the village women who claimed a friendship Myna still couldn’t reciprocate. And she’d had such a strong aversion to the trudge back up the hillside, to the place she’d finally escaped from, that no amount of mental urging had broken through.
But now the man she’d called Father had died, and she could no longer put off this unpleasant task.
She turned to the chest of drawers as Ronan heaved the straw-filled mattress off the bed, disturbing a family of mice as he hauled it outside.
Myna opened the drawers, pulling out clothes, mouldy and moth-eaten. There was nothing salvageable here.
‘We can’t get the bed down the hill.’
Myna looked around to Ronan standing with a hand on the bed head.
‘It’s too heavy.’
Myna sighed and nodded. ‘The rug seems to have survived,” she said.
‘We should take it out and clean it. Give it to someone who needs it. Better not leave it here to rot.’
Together, Myna and Ronan pushed the bed to one side to move it off the rug. There was a deep indent, where the floorboards beneath seemed to have caved in.
Ronan bent over to roll up the rug, revealing a broken floorboard beneath.
A waft of fresh sea air met Myna’s nose, and there was a prickle on her skin as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
‘Looks like a hidey hole.’ Ronan had dropped the rug, and stood by Myna, looking down at the broken floorboard.
‘I’m sure it’s not.’ Myna backed away, picking up the end of the rug Ronan had dropped. ‘It’s just a loose floorboard.’
‘There’s no such thing as just a loose floorboard.’ He grinned, bending down to examine it. He managed to wedge a finger into the crack and raised one end of the board ever so slightly.
‘It’s stuck. Can you grab me something to lever it with?’
Myna shook her head. ‘There’s nothing down there.’ Inside her chest her heart was pounding so loudly, she felt sure Ronan must hear it.
‘It won’t hurt to check, will it? Maybe it’s the thing your father was always going on about. That your mother hid.’
Myna stopped in her tracks, fear almost knocking the breath out of her. He’d heard those conversations?
Of course he’d heard those conversations. How could he have missed them?
‘Come on, Myna. Maybe it’s the thing they stole from the sea. It could be worth a fortune.’
But Myna shook her head. ‘Father was a demented old man. He didn’t know what he was saying half the time. Let’s just get this stuff out of here and go home.’
But Ronan wouldn’t be turned away from his prize. He went outside himself and grabbed a narrow branch, taking it back inside to lever up the board.
Myna didn’t want to see, and yet something compelled her to watch as Ronan pulled up the first board, and then began to work on another when it became evident whatever was underneath was too big to fit out through the gap.
‘This board doesn’t seem loose.’ Ronan frowned, prying at it with the branch. He spun the branch around and wedged the thicker end underneath the floorboards.
‘Perhaps I should come back with my tools.’ His words were muttered, but Myna felt a stab of fear at the thought.
‘It doubt it’s worth it,’ she said. ‘It must’ve been under there for years. It’s probably mouldy and rotten by now, if it hasn’t decayed altogether.’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Can’t you smell that? It smells...fresh. Like the sea.’
He returned his focus to the branch, and after a bit of pressure the next floorboard along lifted from the joist.
Ronan grabbed hold of whatever it was beneath.
‘It feels like skin.’ He shook his head. ‘It can’t possibly be skin—it’d be dry and brittle after all this time.’
Myna squeezed her eyes shut, her stomach churning.
Ronan removed another floorboard, and then Myna heard the slithering of something sliding against the boards. She opened her eyes. Ronan was pulling something huge and dark from underneath the floor. There was something stuck to it, and as Myna crept forward to see she realised it was a torn flour bag. A one pound flour bag.
Ronan ripped it away, and Myna knew with sudden clarity that the skin was once small enough to fit into the bag. That it had grown, as she had.
Ronan dragged it out onto the lawn while Myna held back the shriek that wanted to warn him; ‘be careful, don’t hurt it!’
Outside, it was easier to see. The skin was thick and rubbery, and damp to the touch. It was grey with a mixture of lighter and darker coloured splotches, and fine hairs all over. And heavy. It took all of Ronan’s strength to drag it out onto the grass.
‘This looks like a seal skin,’ Ronan said, spreading it out on the grass. ‘But it’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen.’
Myna refused to touch it.
‘I wonder how long it’s been there for.’
His hands smoothed out across the skin, and a tingle travelled Myna’s spine. She could feel Ronan’s touch on her back.
You have one too. Wayanna’s words echoed. The human will have hidden it somewhere. If you find it, you can come home. She shook her head, and backed away, tripping backwards to sit on the bottom step.
‘And where did they get it from? It’s in perfect condition. We could get a good amount of money for this at the market.’
Myna slid backwards up three stairs till she was sitting on the landing. It had shivered, she was sure of it, at Ronan’s mention of the market.
‘We should leave it here.’ Myna clenched her hands into fists, fighting the urge to reach out and take it from him. ‘Whatever it is, it isn’t natural.’
Ronan laughed, but he soon stopped when he saw Myna wasn’t joking.
‘It’s probably cursed. It’s the reason I was an outcast my whole life. How else has it survived this long? Why else would it be hidden under the floorboards? We should put it back, now, before it ruins our lives as well.’
Myna blinked and tears spilled over her cheeks. She wiped them away angrily with the back of her hand.
‘You believe that?’ Ronan had dropped the skin, and was moving towards her, his brow creased. ‘You think that this is the reason your parents were outcasts? You think this is...what? Magic?’ He gave a hollow laugh. ‘You sound like some of those superstitious old villagers.’
Myna shook her head. How could she tell him she knew what it was? That magic wasn’t the half of it.
‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ Now he was beside her, his arm around her shoulders.
‘How else do you explain its condition?’
He shrugged. ‘Your father would’ve salted it, he’s not that foolish—’
‘And salt preserves things for decades, does it?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never left anything that long.’
‘Does it look like it’s been salted?’
‘Well, no. But maybe the salt has dissolved. Maybe we got here just in time.’
Myna could hear from his tone he didn’t believe his own words. She shook her head. ‘We need to put it back and nail up those boards so nothing can remove them.’
The skin called to her. Even now she could feel its longing to be picked up and wrapped around her shoulders; its desperation to return to the sea. She shook her head again.
‘Please, Ronan. Please. Put it back.’
Ronan looked from her to the skin and back again. He almost agreed with her, she could see the disappointment in his eyes at giving up what he thought was a fine prize. But then the feeling from the skin changed, and Myna realised its longing was now being directed at Ronan.
‘No,’ he said. ‘No. I think you’re wrong this time, Myna, love. We need to take this with us. I’ll peg it out in the shed; you won’t even know it’s there. And as soon as it’s dry I’ll sell it at the market. It won’t take long. Pegged out properly it will dry soon enough. We’ll get a good amount for it at market, you’ll see. We can use the money to finish Ebba’s room.’
