Coast to Coast

                He had walked for hundreds of miles before someone pulled over to give him a ride.  He had nearly reached his destination, but it was cold, and he was ready to get out of the weather.  Mark’s thumb shown like a golden beacon to her; Susan had to pick him up. 

         “Where ya headed?”  Susan’s voice was young and sweet.

         Mark sat in the passenger seat and shuddered as the heat from the car began to warm his extremities.  “I’ve gotta get to the ocean.”

         “The ocean?  It’s the middle of winter.  What are you going to do there?”

         “Oh, um. . .” he had been warned about conversations like this in his youth.  What was it he was supposed to say?  Mark couldn’t remember.  “I’m making my annual migration.  It starts on the west coast and ends on the east coast.”  Mark decided the truth was the best route to take.  Maybe he’d sound weird enough that Susan wouldn’t ask any more questions.

         “Migration?  What, like birds?”  Susan put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road.  It was a quiet night in Rhode Island, and Mark and Susan had the road to themselves.

         “Something like that,” Mark replied.

         There was no radio in the car, and Susan whistled to make up for the silence.  Mark looked at her, a smile of faint recognition on his face.  He hadn’t heard that tune since he was a child.  “What’s that song?”

         “Oh, it’s just something my mother used to sing to me when I was a baby.”

         They were closer to the Atlantic than Mark had guessed.  His body began to crave the crisp waters; he noticed his legs start to quiver when the briny air invaded his nose.  He clenched his fists tightly, begging his body to hold out just a little longer.  Susan hadn’t noticed his shaking.

         “We’re here!”  Susan parked the car on the side of the road.  The beach stretched out for miles on the left covered in a thick blanket of snow.  “Are you sure this is where you are supposed to go?”

         Mark nodded.  He needed to get going; he wouldn’t be able to control his transformation much longer.  “Thanks for the ride.”

         Mark got out of the car, and Susan followed him to the surf.  “You really don’t have to come with me.”

         “Nonsense.  You can barely walk.  I’ll help you.  So, you traveled across the country to get here?”

         “Yeah.  I do it every year.”  His body was instinctually beginning to turn.  The scales on his legs were rubbing against his jeans.  He clenched his fists again, fighting the urge to scratch.

         “Why?”  Susan helped Mark to sit on the snowy sand.  The ocean’s spray was soaking their clothes.

         Mark looked out at the water; the winter moon glistened off the freezing water.  If only he could get rid of the girl, he could be in the surf right away.  “I meet a girl here every year.  Please,” he begged, “I really think you should go.  You must be freezing.”

         When Mark turned to Susan, she had already begun to remove her clothes.  “Do you meet the same girl every year?” she asked, undressing like nothing was amiss.

         Susan’s legs were covered in scaly orange skin, a smile played on her lips.  “N-no,” Mark stammered.  It was impossible!  In all the years he had made the migration, he had never met another on land.

         “You should hurry,” Susan continued.  “The moon has almost reached its apex.”  She was completely nude and she sat on the ground to let her legs fuse together.  She closed her eyes as two limbs became one long tail with a translucent fin on the end. 

         Mark stared wide-eyed.  He had never seen any transformation, save his own.  It was a private thing that was never shared.  It was the most beautiful tail Mark had ever seen.  Her scales were rough and glittering, her fin smooth and without any blemishes.  “Wow” was all he could muster.

         “Be gentle,” Susan whispered, pulling herself into the surf.  “This is my first migration.”

         She disappeared under the water as a wave crashed onto the land.  Mark heard her sweet laughter as she jumped in and out of the waves, enjoying the freedom of the open ocean.  He shook his head and tore his clothes from his body.  He ran out into the ocean until the water came up to his thighs.  He jumped into the air and arched his body.  His form cut through the water like a knife; and before he disappeared completely beneath the surface, he flicked his own green tail once, freeing his fin from the sock he forgot to remove.