Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Secret of the Seal skin ❯ Chapter six: The town I loved so well ( Chapter 6 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
The Secret of the Seal Skin
What would happen if an old myth, a fairytale often told by the fire, came true? After times full of misery Rowan returns to the Orkney Islands after the death
of her father, in hope to find peace for something she thinks she could not be forgiven for. In the end however, she finds quite something else in a mysterious man,
passionate by the sea, and by her?
DISCLAIMER: All the characters in this story are mine, and mine completely, meaning that I was the one who created them.
They are my property and cannot be used in other stories with my consent.
---
I wonder, I'm allowed to write a story of my own at school for art class, and illustrate it myself. Shall I use this story, or not? Hmmmn... difficult...
Should I or should I not... :P
Also, I've gotten some complaints by people that my grammar isn't always correct, I am sorry for that, but please understand that English is not my first language.
I could continue writing this story in Dutch, I wonder if those people would still complain about my grammar then…
---
"Who is the man I see
Where I'm supposed to be?
I lost my heart, I buried it too deep
Under the iron sea."
~ Keane, Crystal Ball
---
Chapter six: The town I loved so well
"So, you said you were a friend of my father?"
They were walking down the road, the only road leading down to the town they intended to visit. Rowan had laced her arm through his, walking besides him the same way they had done earlier that morning. Cian did not seem to mind, looking around, gazing at his surroundings as if he had never seen the island before. The heather
had been cut recently, creating a sand path towards the small stone house on the dune, but Rowan had doubted the quality of the road, and had left her Mercedes at the town under the care of someone, she knew, would take care of her beloved car. Somehow she doubted whether the Mercedes Benz SLK could ever manage
to even ride on the old, long unused road full with stones and old rabbit holes.
"I met him at sea, a long time ago, when we were both young." Cian replied, carefully guiding her away from a puddle on the road, before he continued; "We were friends for as along as I can remember."
The weather had only brightened so much since they had taken a step outside the door. Rowan was carrying an old umbrella in hand, using it as a walking stick as they walked down the road. Rowan had attempted in starting a conversation, but had soon found out that Cian refused to talk about himself. Not wanting an unpleasant silence she had instead asked him about her father, and was glad to find out that Cian did not mind talking about any other subject but himself.
"But where did you meet him?" She asked, following his gaze to see a rabbit hide underneath the heather.
"At sea, on a boat. We both travelled on the same boat at the time we met."
"Ah, I see.."
It sounded logical to her, there had been a time her father had told her, that he had travelled to the mainland of Scotland from time to time, so it was possible that they had met there. Her father had never talked about him, but her father had never been real talkative of his past. She had nod minded when had been younger, but now
she wished she had just asked a few more question when she had had the chance.
"And where do you live?" Calm brown eyes looked down at her, a glimpse of curiosity in their depths as he spoke. "I remember you saying your father gave the house to you."
She nodded, looking down at the outstretched patch before their feet. "Yes, I did. I haven't actually visited the house for years. I live in London, I have an
apartment there."
"So you weren't here the moment..?" He didn't finish his sentence, instead looking down upon her face. She felt her heart sink as she understood what he meant to say.
"No, I wasn't here. In fact, I haven't been here for five years even thought my father asked me too... I always thought I could always visit just... later, you know?"
He nodded, although she doubted whether he really did. It sounded selfish, even in her own ears. She had always chosen her career, her own life, above that of her fathers. It was wrong, she saw how she had been. But she shrugged, it was over and done.
Now all she needed to do was too accept it, and carry on. But it prove it be much more difficult than just that. It haunted her mind, her actions, everything she did practically.
“I wasn’t even at his funeral.” She heard herself mutter, staring at her own feet as they walked down the path towards the town they were heading too.
“Do you regret that?” Came an equally soft voice from beside her, and she looked up, feeling a bit agitated by the question.
“Yes, of course I regret not going to the funeral of my own father!” She blurted out, planting the umbrella deep in the sand as if using it as an outlet for her building frustrating.
Of course she regretted it, who would not regret not going to a funeral, a funeral of their own father for God sake. Her mother hadn’t gone as well, but that wasn’t odd. Everyone in the town had said that it was a miracle they conceived a child, seeing how different they both were. She was sure that her mother wasn’t completely emotionless about her father’s death either, she wasn’t jumping with joy, but she didn’t care about the man she had shared one night with to feel any sadness over it.
She on the other hand, couldn’t use the same excuse.
“Then why didn’t you go?” The counter question refrained her from saying anything more, and she opened her mouth and closed it as if she was a fish on land.
Why hadn’t she gone? Because it had been impossible to arrange everything, she had been in the middle of the most important deal of her life. She had been needed at her company, she could not have just left in the middle of everything she had been doing just for a funeral.
But on the other hand, her boss had send her away without much trouble, and she had left for Orkney the very same day.
“I guess…” She began, but shook her head. “I thought I was invaluable for my company, but I wasn’t as important as I thought, at least, that’s what I found out just now. The company will still be there the moment I come back.” She followed a sea gull as it soared overhead, using the wind underneath his wings to keep himself up. “I made a mistake.”
She did not see the expression on his face as soon as she had mentioned going back, but Cian’s face contorted in a frown before he straightened his face and looked back at her.
“Perhaps you made a mistake, yes.” He said. “We all do in life, now and then.”
She nodded, knowing what he meant. She could not look into the future, she hadn’t known what would happen. But still, it didn’t make it less easy.
“Where does he lay?” He asked, and she frowned. They, the people of the town, the people whom had known her father and her, had not exactly buried him.
“He has no grave,” She said “At least, I am told that he has no grave. They gave him a burial at sea.”
Meaning they had dumped him into the sea, thrown him off a boat. The thought alone made her partially sick, somehow she had hoped for an earthbound grave, a place where she could go to, talk to him. But there was no stone, there was no grave, only an empty house and the sea.
She noticed Cian’s little smile, tugging at his lips, and she frowned at him. He answered her gaze, and shook his head.
“I’m just smiling, because I know he would have liked it that way.”
“No, that is not that kind of smile.” Rowan countered immediately, narrowing her eyes at him. “You are hiding something.”
He kept his face straight, not giving into the smile which was tugging at his lips, and shook his head. “I am not hiding anything, I can just imagine him saying that he wanted a sea burial.”
“Hmmn...” She was still glaring at him, but he didn’t explain himself, or say anything else, so she dropped the subject too. Perhaps she would ask him again, later on. She just somehow thought that he knew more than he was letting her know. Perhaps she would know one day, she mentally shrugged. She already knew that the man walking besides her was everything but ordinary, she could wait. He boss had given her two whole weeks, she had plenty of time to wait.
They continued in silence, both keeping to their own and their owns thoughts as the landscape slowly changed. The heather gave way to grasslands where sheep were grazing, an occasional cow, and sometimes a small island pony. Ponies sometimes were still the best meant of transportation on the island, but there weren’t many. Eday simply did not have the space to keep large herds. She had once counted all the animals Eday had when she was little, she had counted forty-five sheep, twelve cows, and five ponies. She had no idea how many there were now, but she guessed that their numbers hadn’t grown much.
The thorn bushes slowly gave way to tiny houses and little farms, some made of brick, some made of the same stone as her father’s little house had been made off. Some looked modern, and some looked very old. Some of the houses were only inhabited during the summer, so they saw practically no one before they reached the small church of the small town. Of course, it was still early, some of the people were either asleep, or already working, or somewhere in between. It wasn’t the time yet where people would just sit outside their little houses, with a cup of tea, or perhaps whiskey, while they were talking with their neighbours.
Rowan glanced up at the small church. She had actually never been quite interested in Christian beliefs, her father had never been, so it had only been natural that she had not displayed any interest either. Her father had always worked on Sundays, he had never gone to the church, not even at Christmas. She had seen the inside of the Church only once, when the owner of the local Inn, a sturdy woman with a loud voice but the heart in the right place, had practically dragged her down the road to the village to be at the ceremony at the Church. It had been Easter, she recalled. She could still remember her father’s face as the woman, May, had taken her hand and taken her along saying to her father that it was not good to raise a child alone without the guidance of God. She herself had been excited to finally see the inside of the Church, that was probably the only reason why her father had waved at her as she was taken along. She had waved back, an enormous grin on her face, wearing her best shoes and clothing. May had shouted back at him, forbidding him to work, but he had just sat down before the house, repairing a fishnet before her very own eyes.
When Rowan had returned later the day her father had still been working on the fishnet. She guessed he had wanted to irritate the old May, but he was as equally happy to see her. She had practically jumped into his arms, telling him about the splendour of the Church, recalling the stories that had been told. She had said to him that they weren’t as interesting as the folklore tales he told her by the fire, and that she didn’t quite understand what had been told at the Church, but she had enjoyed them anyway.
Her father had smiled and listened to her tale, but he had never visited the Church, not even once.
Her father was an odd one, May had told her while they had walked down the road to the church, but he had been a good fisherman. He had helped the men at sea by telling where the fish was, that was probably the only reason why he had been allowed in the village after she, Rowan, had been born. People of the Orkney Islands never trusted outsiders, and no one could recall the moment her father had arrived at the little house in the dunes, occupying it as if it was his own.
They had soon accepted him however, and forgiven him the fact that he was occupying the old little house, although it had not been his. They had taken him in their midst, as they had done with Rowan as soon as she had been brought to the island by her strange foreign mother.
May had told her that her father wasn’t allowed at the church, and Rowan had frowned at her, May had explained that he couldn’t enter the church because he did not believe in God. Rowan had replied that she didn’t believe in God either, that she no idea who God was, and May had looked at her disapprovingly and had told her a story about the beginning of the world. Later Rowan had read the bible, but back then she had not understood a word May had said that day.
But she had been terrified once she had reached the church, afraid that it would reject her too, just like her father had been rejected, but nothing had happened the moment she had stepped into the house of God, as May had called it. She had entered the Church, not believing in God, and nothing had happened. She had never understood why, she had asked her father why, but he had just shrugged, indicating he did not wish to talk about it.
She had just accepted the fact that her father would never visit the Church. She had, once, visited it again. The day old May had died when Rowan had been sixteen, she had been at her funeral, and had visited the graveyard and the freshly dug grave. She had listened to the preach of the priest. She had looked up for a split moment, to see her father standing at the grave, a painfully sad expression on his face as he stood there. She had wanted to call him, but as soon as he had noticed that she had seen him he had fiercely shook his head to avoid any attention. She had kept silent until the ceremony had ended. Her father had waited at her at the gate of the graveyard. She had asked him why he had not come to the grave to say his goodbyes to May.
He had replied that he had already said goodbye to May, and that she understood why he could not visit her grave. Rowan had not understood, but as with so many things she hadn’t understood about her father, she had shrugged and accepted it.
Cian and Rowan silently walked through the narrow streets with their cobblestone path, walking towards the small harbour where most small stores were located. The island had only one supermarket, although it could hardly be called a supermarket at all.
But it had the things she needed, canned food for instant, candles and perhaps a decent coat for Cian who was now walking around in her father’s old jumper, she was the one wearing the coat. She had soon found out that her classy coat from London was not made for Orkney weather, and she had claimed her father’s coat as her own.
The small ships of the fishermen were still docked, and she feared that another storm was coming. She was almost certain, because otherwise the fishermen of the town would have sailed out. If they hadn’t, the bad weather would not end just yet.
“The fishermen haven’t sailed out yet.” She said, the first words she had spoken since they had entered the small town.
“The sea isn’t calm enough yet,” Cian replied, “White heads are looking out of the water, it would be foolish to go out in this kind of weather. Who knows what is lurking beneath the waves now, no one can say nor see.”
She nodded, perhaps a bit surprised at his last words. He was implying at the mythical sea creatures of Orkney, she had not expected him to know anything about them.
Of course, he had known about the Brownie in her house, if there was a Brownie at all, but the entire of Great Britain knew about Brownies. But Fin folk, and Sea trows, not everyone knew about them. She decided that she would ask him later as they approached their destination.
The tiny supermarket was facing the harbour, and a few people were gathered outside. She guessed them to be fishermen who had nothing to do, she did not recognise most faces, or she couldn’t remember them. Cian was visibly uncomfortable too, and she could understand why. If she had been new just like him, she would’ve felt intimidated by meeting the islanders too.
“You could wait outside, if you want too.” She said, implying at the gathered crowd before the small store. Cian looked down at her, and she guessed that she had guessed correctly, he had been uncomfortable with going to the store, with all the people gathered in front of the entrance.
“I think I’ll just do that,” He said, without much further explanation. She smiled and let go of his arm, continuing to walk down the road to the store while he stopped the. She glanced back at him.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” She called back. “Don’t stray too far!”
He raised his hand as a goodbye and turned around on his heel, walking back in the direction they had came from. She watched him go for a moment, before she turned around too, walking towards the supermarket, and the little crowd gathered in front of it.
As she got closer to the store she intended to visit she did recognise some faces in the small crowd, that of the eldest man of the group whom had often come to their house to talk with her father, sometimes to ask question, and sometimes just to ask how he was doing. Ark was his name, if she remembered correctly. He was a man with a sharp edge, not taking a leaf before his mouth if he ever opened it. He had always treated her with kindness, although she had always been afraid of him the times he had come to their house. Her father had told her that he was a friendly man and meant her no harm, but she had not believed him, not until she had seen him truly angry at a boy who had tried to steal a fish from his boat.
She had known since that moment, that although he appeared to be grumpy he was actually being friendly with her. She knew the boy would have agreed, he was never that lucky again. Ark had never trusted him again.
There was an outlander, a man not from the island, not even from Great Britain. She had never heard his name, but she knew he was a friendly man.
Some of the men turned to look at her as she approached, some greeted her, some said nothing. Rob, one of the younger fishermen who had been probably been in his teens while she was still a child recognised her immediately and greeted her. Thankful for an opportunity to ask what was going on.
“Oh we won’t sail today no,” He said as she asked what all the men were doing her. “The weather it too rough, I wouldn’t go out now, not even for a golden penny. We’re just waiting for the storm to lie down completely.”
“So that’s why you’re all gathered in front of the supermarket?” She asked, nodding at some of the other men as the greeted her.
“Actually no, Macael found an article about seal hunting he had found in a magazine he got from the mainland. They want to hunt seals again, some of the men couldn’t believe it so we decided to read the article ourselves. It’s true, they want to start a seal hunting season again.” Rob said, his face darkening as he told her about the article she could see from her. Macael, the shopkeeper, had cu it out of the magazine and pasted it against the glass for all to see.
“That’s awful,” She said, frowning at the news. Perhaps she was just a big softie, but her heart twitched at the idea of seals being hunted down, for their meat or for their fur, it was wrong altogether.
“We’re not happy about it either, we are going to protest at the mainland as soon as the sea is calm again. Ark said we could use his boat, he’s got the biggest boat. Hopefully we’ll be able to go to the mainland next week.”
Rowan nodded, staring at the magazine leaf shouting: Seals for sale, useless killing starting again.
“Seals are a part of our folklore as long as I can, or as long as anyone can remember, there has always been some hunting, but this is slaughter they’re planning over there.” He nearly spit out the word ‘slaughter’ as if it were a foul word. Rowan could very well understand why, the fishermen had once considered seals as their enemies because they too ate the fish, but they never really meant harm.
“I hope you’ll be able to do something against it,” Rowan said, chewing her bottom lip as she stared at the picture of the bloody seal, it’s skin half stripped off. It reminded her of the seal skin she had found on the beach, she had nearly forgotten about it as she had laid it with the towels on one of the shelves. It had shown no signs of any struggle, no blood sticking to the soft fur, only sand. The skin, the leather had been completely soft, undamaged, as if they had found a new way of stripping the seals bare.
Perhaps they already had, perhaps they had already started.
“You can come along too if you want,” Rob said, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m sure none of the boys will mind if you come along, you’ve been away for so long, I’m sure they’ll all be happy to see you.” He meant something more than he said, and she smiled at him, getting the hint.
“Perhaps I will, I don’t think it’s fair to start seal hunting again after so many years. But now I have to go, I want to get back at the house before dusk.” She said, nodding at the supermarket.
“I think we’ll go on Wednesday,” Rob said quickly before she could turn away. “If you want to get back to your house, I can take you there, my car won’t have any problems on that old road towards your house.”
Rowan smiled but shook her head. “That won’t be necessary, I got some company whom I haven’t seen in years, we don’t mind the walk.”
Rob nodded, clearly disappointed at her refusal, but she ignored the grey puppy dog eyes he was giving her.
“I’ll be fine Rob, but thanks for the offer, perhaps some other day.”
Rob merely nodded, watching her walk towards the supermarket before he turned his attention back to the heated conversation his shipmates were having, about the hunting season, where to get the best fish, the latter didn’t always interest him, he was just glad if they caught anything; but talking about fish was still better than sitting home alone, watching the old black ‘n white telly, or reading old news. His mates all said it would be different once he found a wife, but he wasn’t too sure about that. He glanced at the direction again where Rowan had entered the store. She had grown into a fine woman, no one would’ve had believed it if they had said that she would turn into a beautiful woman, seeing her father. The old grey man up in the dunes, perhaps she had gotten her beauty from her foreign mother. It was well possible, but he had never seen her mother, so he couldn’t say. Perhaps he would see her again, next week perhaps. He smiled at the thought, opening his mouth to mingle himself in the heated conversation two mates were having.
What would happen if an old myth, a fairytale often told by the fire, came true? After times full of misery Rowan returns to the Orkney Islands after the death
of her father, in hope to find peace for something she thinks she could not be forgiven for. In the end however, she finds quite something else in a mysterious man,
passionate by the sea, and by her?
DISCLAIMER: All the characters in this story are mine, and mine completely, meaning that I was the one who created them.
They are my property and cannot be used in other stories with my consent.
---
I wonder, I'm allowed to write a story of my own at school for art class, and illustrate it myself. Shall I use this story, or not? Hmmmn... difficult...
Should I or should I not... :P
Also, I've gotten some complaints by people that my grammar isn't always correct, I am sorry for that, but please understand that English is not my first language.
I could continue writing this story in Dutch, I wonder if those people would still complain about my grammar then…
---
"Who is the man I see
Where I'm supposed to be?
I lost my heart, I buried it too deep
Under the iron sea."
~ Keane, Crystal Ball
---
Chapter six: The town I loved so well
"So, you said you were a friend of my father?"
They were walking down the road, the only road leading down to the town they intended to visit. Rowan had laced her arm through his, walking besides him the same way they had done earlier that morning. Cian did not seem to mind, looking around, gazing at his surroundings as if he had never seen the island before. The heather
had been cut recently, creating a sand path towards the small stone house on the dune, but Rowan had doubted the quality of the road, and had left her Mercedes at the town under the care of someone, she knew, would take care of her beloved car. Somehow she doubted whether the Mercedes Benz SLK could ever manage
to even ride on the old, long unused road full with stones and old rabbit holes.
"I met him at sea, a long time ago, when we were both young." Cian replied, carefully guiding her away from a puddle on the road, before he continued; "We were friends for as along as I can remember."
The weather had only brightened so much since they had taken a step outside the door. Rowan was carrying an old umbrella in hand, using it as a walking stick as they walked down the road. Rowan had attempted in starting a conversation, but had soon found out that Cian refused to talk about himself. Not wanting an unpleasant silence she had instead asked him about her father, and was glad to find out that Cian did not mind talking about any other subject but himself.
"But where did you meet him?" She asked, following his gaze to see a rabbit hide underneath the heather.
"At sea, on a boat. We both travelled on the same boat at the time we met."
"Ah, I see.."
It sounded logical to her, there had been a time her father had told her, that he had travelled to the mainland of Scotland from time to time, so it was possible that they had met there. Her father had never talked about him, but her father had never been real talkative of his past. She had nod minded when had been younger, but now
she wished she had just asked a few more question when she had had the chance.
"And where do you live?" Calm brown eyes looked down at her, a glimpse of curiosity in their depths as he spoke. "I remember you saying your father gave the house to you."
She nodded, looking down at the outstretched patch before their feet. "Yes, I did. I haven't actually visited the house for years. I live in London, I have an
apartment there."
"So you weren't here the moment..?" He didn't finish his sentence, instead looking down upon her face. She felt her heart sink as she understood what he meant to say.
"No, I wasn't here. In fact, I haven't been here for five years even thought my father asked me too... I always thought I could always visit just... later, you know?"
He nodded, although she doubted whether he really did. It sounded selfish, even in her own ears. She had always chosen her career, her own life, above that of her fathers. It was wrong, she saw how she had been. But she shrugged, it was over and done.
Now all she needed to do was too accept it, and carry on. But it prove it be much more difficult than just that. It haunted her mind, her actions, everything she did practically.
“I wasn’t even at his funeral.” She heard herself mutter, staring at her own feet as they walked down the path towards the town they were heading too.
“Do you regret that?” Came an equally soft voice from beside her, and she looked up, feeling a bit agitated by the question.
“Yes, of course I regret not going to the funeral of my own father!” She blurted out, planting the umbrella deep in the sand as if using it as an outlet for her building frustrating.
Of course she regretted it, who would not regret not going to a funeral, a funeral of their own father for God sake. Her mother hadn’t gone as well, but that wasn’t odd. Everyone in the town had said that it was a miracle they conceived a child, seeing how different they both were. She was sure that her mother wasn’t completely emotionless about her father’s death either, she wasn’t jumping with joy, but she didn’t care about the man she had shared one night with to feel any sadness over it.
She on the other hand, couldn’t use the same excuse.
“Then why didn’t you go?” The counter question refrained her from saying anything more, and she opened her mouth and closed it as if she was a fish on land.
Why hadn’t she gone? Because it had been impossible to arrange everything, she had been in the middle of the most important deal of her life. She had been needed at her company, she could not have just left in the middle of everything she had been doing just for a funeral.
But on the other hand, her boss had send her away without much trouble, and she had left for Orkney the very same day.
“I guess…” She began, but shook her head. “I thought I was invaluable for my company, but I wasn’t as important as I thought, at least, that’s what I found out just now. The company will still be there the moment I come back.” She followed a sea gull as it soared overhead, using the wind underneath his wings to keep himself up. “I made a mistake.”
She did not see the expression on his face as soon as she had mentioned going back, but Cian’s face contorted in a frown before he straightened his face and looked back at her.
“Perhaps you made a mistake, yes.” He said. “We all do in life, now and then.”
She nodded, knowing what he meant. She could not look into the future, she hadn’t known what would happen. But still, it didn’t make it less easy.
“Where does he lay?” He asked, and she frowned. They, the people of the town, the people whom had known her father and her, had not exactly buried him.
“He has no grave,” She said “At least, I am told that he has no grave. They gave him a burial at sea.”
Meaning they had dumped him into the sea, thrown him off a boat. The thought alone made her partially sick, somehow she had hoped for an earthbound grave, a place where she could go to, talk to him. But there was no stone, there was no grave, only an empty house and the sea.
She noticed Cian’s little smile, tugging at his lips, and she frowned at him. He answered her gaze, and shook his head.
“I’m just smiling, because I know he would have liked it that way.”
“No, that is not that kind of smile.” Rowan countered immediately, narrowing her eyes at him. “You are hiding something.”
He kept his face straight, not giving into the smile which was tugging at his lips, and shook his head. “I am not hiding anything, I can just imagine him saying that he wanted a sea burial.”
“Hmmn...” She was still glaring at him, but he didn’t explain himself, or say anything else, so she dropped the subject too. Perhaps she would ask him again, later on. She just somehow thought that he knew more than he was letting her know. Perhaps she would know one day, she mentally shrugged. She already knew that the man walking besides her was everything but ordinary, she could wait. He boss had given her two whole weeks, she had plenty of time to wait.
They continued in silence, both keeping to their own and their owns thoughts as the landscape slowly changed. The heather gave way to grasslands where sheep were grazing, an occasional cow, and sometimes a small island pony. Ponies sometimes were still the best meant of transportation on the island, but there weren’t many. Eday simply did not have the space to keep large herds. She had once counted all the animals Eday had when she was little, she had counted forty-five sheep, twelve cows, and five ponies. She had no idea how many there were now, but she guessed that their numbers hadn’t grown much.
The thorn bushes slowly gave way to tiny houses and little farms, some made of brick, some made of the same stone as her father’s little house had been made off. Some looked modern, and some looked very old. Some of the houses were only inhabited during the summer, so they saw practically no one before they reached the small church of the small town. Of course, it was still early, some of the people were either asleep, or already working, or somewhere in between. It wasn’t the time yet where people would just sit outside their little houses, with a cup of tea, or perhaps whiskey, while they were talking with their neighbours.
Rowan glanced up at the small church. She had actually never been quite interested in Christian beliefs, her father had never been, so it had only been natural that she had not displayed any interest either. Her father had always worked on Sundays, he had never gone to the church, not even at Christmas. She had seen the inside of the Church only once, when the owner of the local Inn, a sturdy woman with a loud voice but the heart in the right place, had practically dragged her down the road to the village to be at the ceremony at the Church. It had been Easter, she recalled. She could still remember her father’s face as the woman, May, had taken her hand and taken her along saying to her father that it was not good to raise a child alone without the guidance of God. She herself had been excited to finally see the inside of the Church, that was probably the only reason why her father had waved at her as she was taken along. She had waved back, an enormous grin on her face, wearing her best shoes and clothing. May had shouted back at him, forbidding him to work, but he had just sat down before the house, repairing a fishnet before her very own eyes.
When Rowan had returned later the day her father had still been working on the fishnet. She guessed he had wanted to irritate the old May, but he was as equally happy to see her. She had practically jumped into his arms, telling him about the splendour of the Church, recalling the stories that had been told. She had said to him that they weren’t as interesting as the folklore tales he told her by the fire, and that she didn’t quite understand what had been told at the Church, but she had enjoyed them anyway.
Her father had smiled and listened to her tale, but he had never visited the Church, not even once.
Her father was an odd one, May had told her while they had walked down the road to the church, but he had been a good fisherman. He had helped the men at sea by telling where the fish was, that was probably the only reason why he had been allowed in the village after she, Rowan, had been born. People of the Orkney Islands never trusted outsiders, and no one could recall the moment her father had arrived at the little house in the dunes, occupying it as if it was his own.
They had soon accepted him however, and forgiven him the fact that he was occupying the old little house, although it had not been his. They had taken him in their midst, as they had done with Rowan as soon as she had been brought to the island by her strange foreign mother.
May had told her that her father wasn’t allowed at the church, and Rowan had frowned at her, May had explained that he couldn’t enter the church because he did not believe in God. Rowan had replied that she didn’t believe in God either, that she no idea who God was, and May had looked at her disapprovingly and had told her a story about the beginning of the world. Later Rowan had read the bible, but back then she had not understood a word May had said that day.
But she had been terrified once she had reached the church, afraid that it would reject her too, just like her father had been rejected, but nothing had happened the moment she had stepped into the house of God, as May had called it. She had entered the Church, not believing in God, and nothing had happened. She had never understood why, she had asked her father why, but he had just shrugged, indicating he did not wish to talk about it.
She had just accepted the fact that her father would never visit the Church. She had, once, visited it again. The day old May had died when Rowan had been sixteen, she had been at her funeral, and had visited the graveyard and the freshly dug grave. She had listened to the preach of the priest. She had looked up for a split moment, to see her father standing at the grave, a painfully sad expression on his face as he stood there. She had wanted to call him, but as soon as he had noticed that she had seen him he had fiercely shook his head to avoid any attention. She had kept silent until the ceremony had ended. Her father had waited at her at the gate of the graveyard. She had asked him why he had not come to the grave to say his goodbyes to May.
He had replied that he had already said goodbye to May, and that she understood why he could not visit her grave. Rowan had not understood, but as with so many things she hadn’t understood about her father, she had shrugged and accepted it.
Cian and Rowan silently walked through the narrow streets with their cobblestone path, walking towards the small harbour where most small stores were located. The island had only one supermarket, although it could hardly be called a supermarket at all.
But it had the things she needed, canned food for instant, candles and perhaps a decent coat for Cian who was now walking around in her father’s old jumper, she was the one wearing the coat. She had soon found out that her classy coat from London was not made for Orkney weather, and she had claimed her father’s coat as her own.
The small ships of the fishermen were still docked, and she feared that another storm was coming. She was almost certain, because otherwise the fishermen of the town would have sailed out. If they hadn’t, the bad weather would not end just yet.
“The fishermen haven’t sailed out yet.” She said, the first words she had spoken since they had entered the small town.
“The sea isn’t calm enough yet,” Cian replied, “White heads are looking out of the water, it would be foolish to go out in this kind of weather. Who knows what is lurking beneath the waves now, no one can say nor see.”
She nodded, perhaps a bit surprised at his last words. He was implying at the mythical sea creatures of Orkney, she had not expected him to know anything about them.
Of course, he had known about the Brownie in her house, if there was a Brownie at all, but the entire of Great Britain knew about Brownies. But Fin folk, and Sea trows, not everyone knew about them. She decided that she would ask him later as they approached their destination.
The tiny supermarket was facing the harbour, and a few people were gathered outside. She guessed them to be fishermen who had nothing to do, she did not recognise most faces, or she couldn’t remember them. Cian was visibly uncomfortable too, and she could understand why. If she had been new just like him, she would’ve felt intimidated by meeting the islanders too.
“You could wait outside, if you want too.” She said, implying at the gathered crowd before the small store. Cian looked down at her, and she guessed that she had guessed correctly, he had been uncomfortable with going to the store, with all the people gathered in front of the entrance.
“I think I’ll just do that,” He said, without much further explanation. She smiled and let go of his arm, continuing to walk down the road to the store while he stopped the. She glanced back at him.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” She called back. “Don’t stray too far!”
He raised his hand as a goodbye and turned around on his heel, walking back in the direction they had came from. She watched him go for a moment, before she turned around too, walking towards the supermarket, and the little crowd gathered in front of it.
As she got closer to the store she intended to visit she did recognise some faces in the small crowd, that of the eldest man of the group whom had often come to their house to talk with her father, sometimes to ask question, and sometimes just to ask how he was doing. Ark was his name, if she remembered correctly. He was a man with a sharp edge, not taking a leaf before his mouth if he ever opened it. He had always treated her with kindness, although she had always been afraid of him the times he had come to their house. Her father had told her that he was a friendly man and meant her no harm, but she had not believed him, not until she had seen him truly angry at a boy who had tried to steal a fish from his boat.
She had known since that moment, that although he appeared to be grumpy he was actually being friendly with her. She knew the boy would have agreed, he was never that lucky again. Ark had never trusted him again.
There was an outlander, a man not from the island, not even from Great Britain. She had never heard his name, but she knew he was a friendly man.
Some of the men turned to look at her as she approached, some greeted her, some said nothing. Rob, one of the younger fishermen who had been probably been in his teens while she was still a child recognised her immediately and greeted her. Thankful for an opportunity to ask what was going on.
“Oh we won’t sail today no,” He said as she asked what all the men were doing her. “The weather it too rough, I wouldn’t go out now, not even for a golden penny. We’re just waiting for the storm to lie down completely.”
“So that’s why you’re all gathered in front of the supermarket?” She asked, nodding at some of the other men as the greeted her.
“Actually no, Macael found an article about seal hunting he had found in a magazine he got from the mainland. They want to hunt seals again, some of the men couldn’t believe it so we decided to read the article ourselves. It’s true, they want to start a seal hunting season again.” Rob said, his face darkening as he told her about the article she could see from her. Macael, the shopkeeper, had cu it out of the magazine and pasted it against the glass for all to see.
“That’s awful,” She said, frowning at the news. Perhaps she was just a big softie, but her heart twitched at the idea of seals being hunted down, for their meat or for their fur, it was wrong altogether.
“We’re not happy about it either, we are going to protest at the mainland as soon as the sea is calm again. Ark said we could use his boat, he’s got the biggest boat. Hopefully we’ll be able to go to the mainland next week.”
Rowan nodded, staring at the magazine leaf shouting: Seals for sale, useless killing starting again.
“Seals are a part of our folklore as long as I can, or as long as anyone can remember, there has always been some hunting, but this is slaughter they’re planning over there.” He nearly spit out the word ‘slaughter’ as if it were a foul word. Rowan could very well understand why, the fishermen had once considered seals as their enemies because they too ate the fish, but they never really meant harm.
“I hope you’ll be able to do something against it,” Rowan said, chewing her bottom lip as she stared at the picture of the bloody seal, it’s skin half stripped off. It reminded her of the seal skin she had found on the beach, she had nearly forgotten about it as she had laid it with the towels on one of the shelves. It had shown no signs of any struggle, no blood sticking to the soft fur, only sand. The skin, the leather had been completely soft, undamaged, as if they had found a new way of stripping the seals bare.
Perhaps they already had, perhaps they had already started.
“You can come along too if you want,” Rob said, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m sure none of the boys will mind if you come along, you’ve been away for so long, I’m sure they’ll all be happy to see you.” He meant something more than he said, and she smiled at him, getting the hint.
“Perhaps I will, I don’t think it’s fair to start seal hunting again after so many years. But now I have to go, I want to get back at the house before dusk.” She said, nodding at the supermarket.
“I think we’ll go on Wednesday,” Rob said quickly before she could turn away. “If you want to get back to your house, I can take you there, my car won’t have any problems on that old road towards your house.”
Rowan smiled but shook her head. “That won’t be necessary, I got some company whom I haven’t seen in years, we don’t mind the walk.”
Rob nodded, clearly disappointed at her refusal, but she ignored the grey puppy dog eyes he was giving her.
“I’ll be fine Rob, but thanks for the offer, perhaps some other day.”
Rob merely nodded, watching her walk towards the supermarket before he turned his attention back to the heated conversation his shipmates were having, about the hunting season, where to get the best fish, the latter didn’t always interest him, he was just glad if they caught anything; but talking about fish was still better than sitting home alone, watching the old black ‘n white telly, or reading old news. His mates all said it would be different once he found a wife, but he wasn’t too sure about that. He glanced at the direction again where Rowan had entered the store. She had grown into a fine woman, no one would’ve had believed it if they had said that she would turn into a beautiful woman, seeing her father. The old grey man up in the dunes, perhaps she had gotten her beauty from her foreign mother. It was well possible, but he had never seen her mother, so he couldn’t say. Perhaps he would see her again, next week perhaps. He smiled at the thought, opening his mouth to mingle himself in the heated conversation two mates were having.