June 2023 - Last light of the day

[Kaje]

Here's the winning photo for this month - give us your haiku, your short story, flash fic, drabble - whatever occurs to you. Just keep it YA and LGBTQ.

[Kaje]

Waiting

This is the time of day when he appears. If he's coming. That's a big if.

Last summer I saw him twice, swimming in the bay. The way he leaped in the water riveted my attention. The sun gleaming off his wet skin sure didn't hurt, either.

I thought he was a tourist, just in town for a weekend. Two weekends, when he showed up again in September, despite the chilling of the water.

Then this year… he swam over to the dock at sunset our first day in the cabin, and hung off the post, looking up at me. His hair lay plastered to his forehead and neck, long and unstyled, kissed near-white on top by the sun, with darker hints underneath. His skin was the bronzy-brown that could be a tan, or some kind of ancestry, but his eyes were a pale, pale gray, like the water in winter. He was younger than I'd thought from the shape of his muscles last year, maybe as young as me. Maybe a year or two older.

"Hey, I wondered if you were still around." His voice sounded young, like it hadn't broken yet.

"We live in the city in the winter. We run the campgrounds April through October."

"Ah. I understand." He tossed his head, flicking the hair away from his eyes. I watched the liberated droplets sparkle in the late sun. "Do you ever swim?"

"Sure. The water's too cold right now, though." Which broke through my surprise at seeing him at all. "Aren't you cold? Do you want to come up to the cabin and get warm?"

He laughed. "No, I'm fine. Hot blooded, my dad likes to say. I swim in all kinds of weather."

"Wow, that's…" I wasn't sure if I was going with impressive or crazy but before I could decide, he pushed away from the dock.

"I'll be back another day. I'm interested to get to know you."

I raised a hand, but he'd slipped under the surface, swimming with powerful dolphin kicks toward the open water. "You too," I'd whispered to his departing form. He surfaced a hundred feet out, waved back at me, then was gone.

After that, he appeared now and then. I volunteered for the job of making sure all the rental boats were returned, clean inside, and safely tied up. Those hours of dusk were the times he might stop by and chat, never leaving the water, never offering me more than a glimpse of smooth bare chest and long-fingered hands to dream of.

I hadn't told Mom about him. For one thing, I was fifteen and these days, I didn't like her all up in my business. For another, I wasn't out to her. And for a third, I felt somewhere in a shiver under my skin that this boy— Shiriss, as I'd come to know him— wasn't just a tourist. Local, for sure. Human? That I was uncertain about.

Blame the doubts on my Gramps. He was the one who swore up and down that selkies and merfolk swam these waters. That if you were quiet and perceptive, you might meet one someday. Mom used to laugh at his stories, until he got old and confused and she pretended to believe to make him happy.

Gramps passed three years ago. I'd gone to his grave last week to tell him about Shiriss and ask his advice, but all I got was silence. My Gramps wasn't there, in that plot of grass and stone.

So here I am. Waiting.

Yesterday, Shiriss said he had a surprise for me. He told me to dress for the water, and have a boat ready. I have one of our canoes tied to the dock at my feet.

As I peer out over the gold-crested water, he emerges almost below me, shaking the drops from his hair. "Hey, Luke, you ready?"

I point to the boat. "But I have to be back at dawn."

Shiriss's smile carries many meanings. This one is sharp and eager. "We can manage that."

I should tell Mom where I'm going, but there's no way she'd let me spend the night out. She thinks I'm in my room. I have my phone, just in case. "Where are we headed?"

Shiriss lays a finger by his nose, like Robert Redford in The Sting (and he and Paul Newman totally should've been together.) "I'll tell you along the way."

He hauls himself up on the gunwale of the canoe and slides onto the middle seat. I can't help staring. Yes, he has legs, not a tail. No, his feet aren't webbed, but they're long and narrow. Yes, he's naked and he has— um, moving right along.

I avert my eyes and climb down into the boat, casting off the stern rope. I pick up my paddle, getting us away from the dock with a few lazy J-strokes. "You have to at least tell me a direction."

"Toward the sun." Shiriss waves to where the light of the setting sun creates a path of gold on the water. "We're going on an adventure…"


.
.
Sorry folks, novels to write, stuff to do. You'll have to imagine their adventure for yourself.

[Clarissa]

Kaje wrote: "
Waiting


This is the time of day when he appears. If he's coming. That's a big if.

Last summer I saw him twice, swimming in the bay. The way he leaped in the water riveted my attention. The..."

This is really emotive, even in such a short piece I really got immersed in the characters

[Kaje]

Clarissa wrote: "Kaje wrote: "
Waiting


This is the time of day when he appears. If he's coming. That's a big if.

Last summer I saw him twice, swimming in the bay. The way he leaped in the water riveted my att..."

<3 Thanks. It tried to turn into something too long for this venue, but I'm glad if that scrap of a beginning came out all right.

[Clarissa]

"Kaje wrote: "
<3 Thanks. It tried to turn into something too long for this venue, but I'm glad if that scrap of a beginning came out all right.."

Yes! it does feel like it could have a lot more story