The Rock-Hoppers

Chapter 1
Erica Mawson stared out the bus window, taking in nothing of the beautiful coastal view. Her thoughts were somewhere else, stuck between the past and the future, and the anxiety that had been building in her heart for the past month. The woman next to her offered Erica some nuts, dragging her back to reality, and she declined quietly, leaning her head back on the window. As she watched the wave’s crash onto the beach, a longing to run into the ocean and swim in the warm, inviting water nagged at the back of her mind, and she fingered the small shell pendant hanging on some string around her neck.

At last a small gathering of buildings, a poor excuse for a town, came into sight and Erica sighed heavily as the bus driver announced loudly that they would be stopping in Morrison in the next few minutes. When the bus finally jolted to a stop, Erica gathered her things and climbed down the bus stairs. The hot, salty air was the first thing to hit her, and she paused in shock for a moment before moving away from the bus and under the shelter. A few more people got off the bus before the doors banged shut and the bus lurched off, continuing on its journey. Erica looked around for her grandparents, the ones she had met just twice, and spotted an elderly man waving her in his direction. She walked quickly over to him and smiled weakly as he kissed her cheek and exclaimed about how much she had grown, while tossing her things into the back of an old, rusty looking Ute.

“So Ricky, you’d be almost sixteen now?” John shifted the Ute into third gear and it putted noisily along the dirt road, jolting occasionally when it hit a pot hole.
“Yea, in six weeks.” Erica replied, playing with the shell pendant again.
“So,” the Ute jolted again, and the things in the back jumped around noisily “How is your Dad?” It was the question Erica had wished wouldn’t be asked and she swallowed hot tears, managed to say “Doctors said he’s stable. They’ll call if there’s any change.” Then turned her mind from the painful subject and stared out the window. John nodded and they drove on in silence, jostling around in the cab for another few minutes before finally they turned into a small driveway and stopped beside a tiny, rundown shack just twenty or so meters from the beach.

The hot salty air hit Erica yet again, as she jumped from the cab, and she squinted from the glare of the setting sun on the water. An old, round woman with long, grey hair and a faded floral dress rushed from the tiny, uninhabitable looking building, waving and smiling and calling to Erica. “Ricky! It’s so good to see you, I mean not under these circumstances, but oh how you’ve grown!” She hugged Erica, though it felt more like she was trying to suffocate her, and bustled her inside, ordering John to bring in her things. The inside of the shack wasn’t much better then the outside and a cloud of despair seemed to clog Erica’s mind as she was shown around.

Her room, the sun room, was rather dark, although Joan assured her it was very bright during the most part of the day. All that furnished the small room was an old bed, a chest or drawers and an old desk with a wobbly chair. In one corner there was a small wooden chest, and on the floor beside the bed a worn mat, probably more passable as a rag. It didn’t take long to be shown around the rest of the shack. There was a kitchen that doubled as a dining room, a lounge room, a bathroom and the main bedroom. The laundry, a fair walk from the house, was pointed out, and then she was sat down at the table and a plate of food thrust in front of her.

“Well Ricky, what’d you think?” Joan asked, sitting down to the table “About the shack I mean.” Erica pushed the food around her plate, trying to think of a way not to sound ungrateful “It’s…nice. Very nice.” It wasn’t that she was ungrateful; she was just used to a big, modern house, not a tired little shack.
“Glad you like it, girlie.” John smiled, showing several gaps where he was missing teeth and Erica wondered if there was any dental care out here, or anything really. The town hadn’t looked like much when they drove through, but there was supposed to be a school and a pub and a small doctor’s surgery. Where were the people, and where was she supposed to go when she got bored?
“Are you going to be eating that any time soon deary?” Joan asked, interrupting Erica’s thoughts and bringing her back to reality like a slap to the face.
“Uh, no I’m not really hungry.” Erica pushed her plate, still full, away and stood to leave the room “I think I’m just gonna go to bed. Goodnight.”
“It’s still sun up.” John puffed his pipe and raised his eyebrows at Erica. They looked a bit like fury caterpillars that had crawled onto his face and stopped above his eyes Erica thought, watching John’s eyebrows move. “Leave her alone John!” Joan scolded and Erica trudged down the hall and into her ‘room’.

Even with the door closed, her grandparent’s voices floated through the paper thin walls with ease, and Erica lay in the uncomfortable bed listening to their conversation and the TV that had been switched on in the lounge. “Well, she’s certainly grown hasn’t she?”
“Oh yes, a beautiful young lady. Sixteen soon she told me.”
“How they do grow fast.” There was a silence and then, a little quieter Joan said “She looks just like her mother doesn’t she?” Then the TV was turned up and the voices became less frequent, until at last Erica’s eyes closed and her mind fell into sleep.

* * * * *

Some strange bird screeched outside and the morning sun’s ray’s made strange patterns on the floor. Erica lay, staring at the ceiling trying to get her bearings and find a reason to get out of bed. At last she decided that anywhere would more comfortable then this old mattress and she rolled out of bed and trudged sleepily into the kitchen. Joan was baking something in the old oven and Erica could see John bent over some plant in the vegetable garden through the kitchen window.

“Good morning deary! How did you sleep?” Joan beamed. Her hair was pulled in a loose, messy bun and her face was smudged with flour. The woman looked tired, worn; old. Her hair was dull, grey and her skin was creased and thin, like crinkled tissue paper. Her eyes though, Erica noticed, were still a deep brown, young and full of life.
“I slept ok.” Erica mumbled.
“Would you like something to eat?”
“No, thanks I’m ok.” Erica lied, plodding back to her room and closing the door. She dressed slowly, in a pair of old jeans and a yellow tee-shirt and pulled her thin, black hair into two plaits, just reaching her collar bones. Then she pulled on some shoes and, properly awake now, walked quickly into the lounge room and said “I’m going for a walk, be back soon.”
“Ok, but be careful, it’s easy to get lost around here, and John wont be happy if he has to go out looking for you.” Joan called as Erica almost ran out the door towards the beach. She heard the screen door bang, and looked back for a second before continuing on down the well worn track to the beach.

Once Erica got onto the sand, she stood for a moment, observing the beach and the waters. To both sides of the small cove were masses of rocks and boulders that looked to stretch on for a long time. To the left she could see where the land curved round, and the town, looking even smaller then the day before, stood out on the far land to the right. After a few more minutes Erica decided to explore the rocks on the left and headed off, walking quickly. There was a path leading up, behind the rocks and back onto the land, and she followed it carefully. It looked as if it hadn’t been walked on for a long time, and plants were beginning to grow over.

The path seemed to slope up and Erica marvelled at the ten or so metre drop to the rocks below. After a while it sloped down again and met with the rocks. The waves crashing on the rocks was fascinating to watch and Erica stopped to watch the spray and the water rise and fall in the numerous rock pools as the waves continued to crash and retreat and crash again onto the drenched rocks closer to the water. A figure caught her eye and for a moment Erica thought she wasn’t alone, but when she looked again it was gone and she shook the feeling away. The water still intrigued her, and the same longing to run and jump into the water she had had the day before returned to her, this time stronger and harder to resist. Slowly she made her way closer and closer to the wet rocks, the waves, the danger. The urge was strong now, and she could hardly keep from leaping into the swell. She made herself sit, and clenched her fists tight; ordering herself to get up and run back to the shack, but her body wouldn’t obey. Her eyes and mind were fixed on the water, how good it would feel, how much she ached to dive in.

As she focused on the water, a sudden movement to the right distracted her thoughts and she whipped her head around. Sure enough it was another silhouetted figure, and this time Erica knew she wasn’t dreaming. The person had short, messy black hair and wore wot looked like a pair of shorts, but no top. They stood on a high rock, facing away from Erica and waving their hands as if speaking. The suddenly, they took a few steps and leaped off the rock, disappearing over the other side. Fear and curiosity cascaded over Erica. Why had he done that and was he ok? Then, another figure climbed onto the rock and jumped too.

“Ricky!” a faint voice called, distracting Erica “Ricky are you down here?” the voice, a man’s voice, was coming from the direction of the shack. Disturbed but curious about the jumping figures, Erica jumped from her place on the rock by the water and picked her way carefully but quickly back over the rocks and onto the sand path. John came into sight and, taking one last look towards the jump rock, jogged over to her grandfather. “Ricky! Didn’t your grandmother tell you to stay away from the rocks?” he asked when she reached him, his voice more angry then worried. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to see the waves.”
“Well, now you have seen them, stay away from them. If you fall in down there, you wont be coming back out.” And the two walked silently back to the shack, Erica’s mind spinning from all the thoughts and wonders running around her head.

Chapter 2
After about a week, Erica fell into a tedious daily routine. Everyday after breakfast she helped in the vegetable garden, helped prepare lunch, went with John into town to check the mail and pick up anything they needed, helped prepare tea, watched TV then went to bed. She hadn’t been allowed to go for a walk on her own since the day John had found her by the rocks, but she hadn’t forgotten the jumping figures and she still yearned to find out about them.

“I’m taking your grandmother into town today, so you’ll have to stay here.” John declared over lunch one day “That okay with you?”
“Uh-huh.” Erica nodded, clearing the table with Joan. It would be her time of being properly alone for quite a while and inside she was jumping for joy. As soon as the old, rusty Ute was out of site, Erica slapped on some sunscreen and practically ran back to the spot where she had seen the figures last week.
By the time she had gotten there, small beads of sweat were rolling down her face, and she splashed on some sea water from a small rock pool. When she had cooled down she found a sheltered spot and sat, watching the jump rocks. After a few minutes she decided that no-one was there, or at least jumping, and picked her way over there. Finally she found a safe looking path and rounded the large jump rocks. Heaviness seemed to fill her as she looked around, realising that she was the only person there. She had hoped so badly for someone to be there; she was lonely. Her grandparents weren’t exactly the best company, and she hadn’t made any friends yet and doubted that she would. It felt, for a moment, like she was going to cry but then the feeling subsided and she sat heavily on a small, rounded rock.

This place, Erica realised after looking around, was amazing. A large, flat rock formed a platform, a safe distance from the threat of waves and rising tide. Closer to the water was another flat rock, but this one had numerous pits carved into it filled with water, as if something had dug holes in the solid rock and poured water into them, like large bathtubs. Closer to the water still, was an even bigger pool of water, wider and much deeper then the others. The bottom was only visible to Erica when the water level dropped almost half, in between the waves that flooded it over and made it look twice as wide. A large rock, the jump rock, rose from the lower rocks beside the deep pool like a mountain on flood plains. ‘They must have been jumping into the water.’ Erica thought, eying the pool again, and then turning her attention to the towering cliffs behind the platform rock. They were at least five metres high and had been weathered smooth. Checking her watch, Erica made a mental picture in her mind of this astounding place and promised to return, before hurrying back to the shack.

John and Joan still weren’t back by the time Erica got back to the shack. It was quiet inside, apart from the sounds of the beach, and she turned on the radio in the kitchen, poured herself some cold water from the fridge and paced slowly around the few rooms of the tiny place. (More about the actual place here, like describing how she see’s it)

There was nothing to do, apart from chores and TV, and she perched on a chair in the kitchen listening to the news that had come on. “A woman has been rushed to hospital today, after her car collided with another on the free-way just outside of the city. The driver of the second car was killed in the accident. Authorities are yet to discover the cause of the crash.” Images of her father’s body lying in a hospital bed with tubes going in every direction, and doctors with grim faces flashed into Erica’s mind. She tried pushing the images out of her head, but as she did more memories and pictures pushed their way in. Voices with no faces and the sounds of screeching car brakes rang in her ears. Just the simple thought of her father was enough, but this was suffocating her, tearing her to shreds. She held her face in her hands and breathed hard, trying desperately to rid herself of the disturbing thoughts.

Running into the bathroom, Erica pulled of her clothes, turned on the taps and stood under the icy down pour, tears rolling down her cheeks. After what seemed like a life time, she turned off the taps and slowly dried and dressed. Her eyes were still puffy from crying and her head ached. The soft blanket on her bed felt good on her skin as she eased herself onto the mattress. It was quite warm in the sun room, as the sun had been beating down on it all morning, but it didn’t bother her. She just closed her eyes and concentrated on good thoughts, like the jump rock place.

* * * * *

That evening after cleaning up from dinner, Erica sat on the old lounge watching TV with John and Joan. She wanted so badly to ask about the jump rock and the figures, but she didn’t dare bring it up. If she asked about it, they would know she had gone there when they had told her not to, and she didn’t want to get into trouble. ‘But why haven’t they told me about the place?’ she thought, glancing at the old people laughing at something on the TV ’Surely they know about it?’

“I might go to bed, I think.” Erica yawned, rising and trudging towards the door “’night.”
“Okay. Goodnight deary.” Joan called after her. Inside the her room, Erica changed into her pajamas and sat on her bed, knees pulled up to her chest, staring around the room. Other then the few novels stacked on the desk, and the occasional poster on the wall, Erica hadn’t much changed the room. It was still boring and dull, like the rest of the house, and felt foreign and strange. Her room at home had been bright and cheery and filled almost to the verge of spilling over with photos and posters and little, sentimental things. But here was not like home, and Erica pushed the thoughts of home into the far depths of her mind.

As her eyes wondered around the darkening room, she noticed , again, the small wooden chest in the corner. It looked old and battered and sat in the corner with out attracting her attention most of the time, like a small child who doesn’t want to be found. But today, now, the chest caught her eye, and she sat, staring, wondering what was inside. Soon her curiosity was too much to bear, and she quietly tip toed over to it, as not to let her grandparent know she wasn’t asleep. Looking at it closer now, the chest was made of beach wood and had a small, rusty lock on the front. Erica pulled gently on the lid, but nothing happened. She pulled again, harder this time and the lock gave way. The sudden release caused Erica to fall backwards, and she held her breath, waiting for someone to come and see what all the noise was about, but no-one came and her attention was once again on the, now open, chest.

The chest smelt musky inside, and the smell reminded Erica of the old person’s home she had visited with school once. School, friends, home. She pushed the thought out of her mind. She reached in and pulled out a large spiky shell and put it aside. Another shell was pulled out, and another. Then her hand hit something soft. A blanket? It was an old summer dress, much smaller then the ones Joan wore, but still big enough for an adult. The light cotton material was worn and faded, fraying slightly at the hems. It had no print on it, just a faded yellow die. The dress seemed familiar, as if she had seen it before. She placed the dress on her lap, then reached into the chest again. This time she pulled out an old shoe box, browned from years of existence.

Erica removed it’s lid and carefully placed it next to her. Inside the box was a jumble of photos and papers. The photo’s weren’t all that old, and she studied them with curiosity. One showed a young man standing with a beautiful woman, on a beach. They were laughing and looked so happy. The next photo was of the woman on her own, sitting a rock. Her hair wispy black hair almost reached her hips, and the life that shone in her big, black eyes was almost as if she was looking right at Erica. But through all her beauty, there was something different about her, something Erica couldn’t pin-point, but it was there. Then she noticed something. The dress the woman was wearing in the picture was the same one laying in her lap right now. A strange feeling rushed through Erica and she turned the photo over, looking for a date, a name, anything, but nothing was written on the back, and she picked up another photo. In this one, The woman and man were holding a bundle of blankets each. Erica wondered why, then realized that they were babies. The woman looked tired, but happy and Erica guessed that they were hers.

More photos, some before the babies and some after, were muddled in the box and Erica skimmed over them. The people looked familiar and suddenly Erica realized why. She rushed over to the desk and opened the top drawer, and, pulling out an old photo of her own, ran back over to the pile of photos on the floor and began searching like crazy for the one that matched this one. Finally she found it. The other half of her photo. Hers, the right side, showed her Dad holding her at a beach, smiling. The left side of the photo, the one she had just found, showed the woman with the yellow dress holding another baby, on the beach. She held the two pieces of the photo together. That was definitely her and her Dad on the right, but who was the woman and the other baby, who looked, Erica thought, a lot like herself in the photo. They both had little tufts of thin, black hair, big grey eyes and fair, almost white, skin. ‘This could be my mother?’ she thought ‘But who is the other baby?’ She turned over the pieces. Her side didn’t have any writing on it, but the left side did. The scrawl was hard to read but eventually Erica made it out
My beautiful wife and baby girls; Alma, Malu and Erica
Alma. That had been her mother’s name. The woman in the photo, in all the photo’s, was her mother. The dress was her mothers, and the other baby in the picture had to be her sister. But she didn’t have a sister. And her mother had dies in child birth, so how could she be in pictures with Erica as a baby? All the things she thought she knew seemed to be colliding with all the facts being presented to her. There was no explanation. Either the writing on the photo was lying, or she had been lied to for all these years.

Confused, she quickly threw the photos back into the shoebox, making sure to keep out the two halves she had just found, and piled everything back into the chest and dived into bed. There, under the thin blanket she cried silent tears until she finally fell asleep.

* * * * *

The next morning Erica woke early and, realising that her grandparents weren’t up yet, returned to the chest. Last night seemed so un-real now, like a dream, and she had to be sure what had actually happened. But before she had even opened the chest again, she knew she hadn’t dreamed her discovery; the two pieces of the ‘family’ photo were still laying on the floor where she had left them. Once in the chest again, she took out the shoe-box, ripped off the led and poured the contence onto the floor. Photos and papers lay on floor, waiting to be studied. Erica picked up the top paper, unfolded it and read it slowly.
Chris,
I have a Father, Mother, older brother and sister. My brother is married to Sanor and their children are Tatom and Oram. My sister sky is married to Jed and their children are Belle and Zowie. They are expecting another child very soon. Everyone is preoccupied with Sky’s pregnancy; I should be able to meet you tomorrow evening.
Alma

Erica stared at the letter, confused. It was obviously from her mother to her father, but who were all the people mentioned? Her mother had no living family, and all those people couldn’t be dead. The mystery of it all clouded her mind, and, as hard as she tried, she just couldn’t make sense of the letter and the photos. Picking up the next letter, she read quickly.
Chris
I will meet you tomorrow evening.
Alma
What did this letter, note, mean. Erica was about to read the next one when she heard movement in the house. Sitting dead still and holding her breath, she listened carefully, distinguishing the sound of shuffling feet from that of the waking world outside. After a minute or two, the feet sound disappeared and Erica guessed that who ever had risen, had retired back to bed and she turned back to the letters.

It took almost half an hour, but Erica managed to put the seven letters into a possible order. Her eyes skimmed over the letters and notes, re-reading the now ordered pages.
Chris
You are a stranger to me, I can not meet you.

Chris
I will meet you tomorrow evening.
Alma

Chris,
I’m sorry I haven’t been able to meet with you. My cousin followed me last time, and told my Father. He has forbidden me from seeing you again. I am trying to reason, but for now letters is all the contact we may have.
Alma

Chris,
I have a Father, Mother, older brother and sister. My brother is married to Sanor and their children are Tatom and Oram. My sister sky is married to Jed and their children are Belle and Zowie. They are expecting another child very soon. Everyone is preoccupied with Sky’s pregnancy; I should be able to meet you tomorrow evening.
Alma

Chris
Why won’t you believe me about my family? Everything I told you is true; I have no reason to lie to you.
Alma

Chris,
Meet me tomorrow at sunrise, and I will prove it.
Alma

Chris,
I can not live in your world any longer, and you cannot live in mine. My Father has forgiven my betrayal and accepted Malu. It is here I belong, and not anywhere else, even in your arms. I love you deeply, and that will never change. Seeing you will just make the pain greater. It is easier this way. Please let Erica know I love her, when she is old enough to understand.
Alma

Erica’s eyes lingered on the last letter. The hand writing was different, neater, as if she had been practising. Who accepted Malu, and why did she need accepting? Who was Malu, other than the other baby in the family picture? Her sister? And what was all the talk about not being able to live one another’s worlds? What was her mother trying to say? Erica didn’t know. She did know though, that she needed answers, and the only people that could give her those answers right now were her grandparents.

Still confused, she packed everything back into the chest, dressed quickly and silently tip toed out of the shack and ran down to the beach. The morning air nipped at her exposed legs and the water was freezing on her bare feet. All of a sudden that same longing to run into the water entered her body, nagging her to feel the icy sea on her skin. Trying to ignore the craving, Erica ran along the beach and onto the rocks. Scrambling over the rocks, towards the jump rock, the feeling only seemed to strengthen, and at last she couldn’t take it anymore. Working with clumsy fingers, she stripped off her jacket and watch and scuttled quickly over the where the water was crashing on the rocks. The spray stung her face and the noise was huge. She knew the danger, but the crave to be submerged in that swirling wet was stronger, and she knelt on the very edge, daring herself to leap in.

Large waves rolled towards the rocks were Erica was crouched, but she felt no fear. She knew she should run, that they was going to knock her off the rock, but she couldn’t move. Something bobbed on the surface a few metres away from her, blinking and frowning. It looked strangely human, but how could it be? It seemed to be saying something, but before she could listen properly, the wave crashed onto the rocks. It was much bigger then the ones before and before she knew what had happened, Erica was under the water, being battered against rocks. Gasping for air at the surface, the second of the massive waves pushed her under the water again. As she desperately made her way to the surface, aching for air, the third wave hit, smashing her into the rocks and knocking her out.


Chapter 3
“How are you feeling?” Erica opened her eyes slowly and looked around. She was lying on the beach, cold and wet. A boy, not much older then herself, was stooped over her, touching her forehead. “Are you dizzy?” His eyes were big and black, and his wet hair formed small ringlets around his face. He was in fact, Erica realised, the person she saw bobbing in the water.
“A little.” She replied, trying to sit.
“Don’t sit up.” He gently laid her back down and smiled “What were you doing out there? And what have you done to your hair?”
“I was…Who are you? And what’s wrong with my hair?” It suddenly occurred to her that this stranger had been swimming in the water, on her grandparent’s beach, and she had no idea who he was.
“I’m Ahmet” he replied, as if she should know who he was “What are you playing at, Malu? And why did you cut your hair?”
“Whoa! Wait a minute.” Erica sat up abruptly, and then laid back down again, her head spinning with dizziness “You think I’m…Malu?”
“Well, you are. Aren’t you?” Ahmet replied, moving away from Erica a little.
Erica sat slowly “My name is Erica.” Ahmet’s eyes widened and he stood quickly. “Where are you going?” Erica stood too, but more slowly. Her head still ached.
Ahmet shook his head and ran towards the rocks “I have to go.” He yelled over his shoulder. Erica ran after him as quickly as she could, ignoring her thumping head ache, but he was fast. She didn’t know how but Ahmet seemed to be running over the rocks as fast as she could run on a flat surface.

Stopping to catch her breath, she lost sight of Ahmet. Staring after him a moment, she decided to come back later, and turned to go back to the shack. Glancing over her shoulder, Erica was sure she saw Ahmet watching her, but as quickly as the thought entered her mind, it slipped out again, pushed away by the events of the past half an hour and the items in the chest.

When Erica got back to the shack, Joan was cooking breakfast and John was taking a shower. She walked quickly down the hall, trying not to be noticed; she was still dripping wet and the cut on her forehead was rather obvious. She had almost made it to her room when Joan called form the kitchen “Not so fast young lady.” Erica stopped, turned around and trudged back up the hall and into the kitchen. Joan was standing at the stove, her back to Erica, her shoulders tensed.
“Went for a little swim did we?” Her voice wasn’t full of cheer and joy like normal, it sounded more disappointed and angry.
“I’m sorry Grandma. I didn’t mean to get wet, I just…”
“What were you thinking anyway? Sneaking out before your Grandfather or I had gotten up. It isn’t like you, Erica.” Erica’s jaw gaped. Joan had just called her by her full name. She had never, in all her memories, done that except for the time when she accidentally pushed her birthday cake, which Joan had just finished icing, onto the floor.
“I’m…sorry.” Erica looked up as Joan turned around, revealing the gash on her head.
“Erica! Your head.” Joan exclaimed, practically running at her with a tea towel to put against it “How did this happen?”
“Well, I fell off the rocks and…”
“You were on the rocks.” The worry in Joan’s voice dissolved, and her gaze darkened “We told you to stay away from the rocks.” Erica didn’t know what to say.
“Well, did you learn anything?” Joan turned back to the breakfast. Erica thought for a moment “A boy saved me.” Joan stopped stirring, a sign that she was listening.
“He was already swimming in the water when I fell in, then he pulled me onto the beach. He had black hair and big eyes like me, only they were black not grey. Said his name was Ahmet, but then he ran away.”
Joan turned around slowly “You’ll do best to forget you ever met him.”
“He thought I was Malu.” Joan looked stricken at the very mention of the name Malu.
“Like I said, forget.”
“Grandma, I know who Malu is. And that my mother isn’t dead.” And that you have lied to me all my life, she wanted to add, but she held her tongue.
After some time Joan said quietly “Who told you?”
“I found some letters and photo’s in that old chest in my room.”
“You what?” John walked in then.
“She knows about Alma.” Joan said quickly. John’s face turned grim and he turned his gaze on Erica, his bushy eyebrows almost meeting in the middle between his eyes. “You had no right to snoop.”
“You had no right to lie to me.”
“No, but your father asked us to.” Joan said, in a calmer voice now, sitting at the table and motioning for the others to do the same.

“It all started back when your father was just seventeen. He used to go out on the rocks, fishing and the sort. Then one day he came home, raving about a beautiful girl he had seen. How she had run from him, but he wanted so badly to speak to her. We warned him to stay away, we knew about your mother’s people, and he assured us he would. He kept disappearing though, around sunset every night, for weeks. When we found that he was meeting with her still, we kept a close watch on him, but he just snuck out in early mornings.

“Then one day he came home, raging about her lies, saying how she was telling lies, that she wasn’t human. We knew that she was being truthful, but he didn’t. We went along it all, hoping that he wouldn’t see her anymore, but something must have happened because soon after he brought her home. Her father had disowned her because she had fallen in love with a land human. They got married after that, and she moved in with us. Then you and Malu, that’s your twin, were born and everything was wonderful.

“Then, just before you turned two, she disappeared with Malu. Your father knew were she had gone and tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t listen. The last he heard from her was a letter telling him that she missed her home too greatly, and that she could no longer live in our world, just as he couldn’t live in hers. A few months after that, your father moved to the city with you. He had to be away from the woman he loved so deeply, yet couldn’t be with.” Joan had tears in her eyes, John got up from the table and took a beer from the fridge. Erica just sat, hands folded in her lap, numb with feelings she didn’t know hoe to handle. Hot tears stung the backs of her eyes, trying to get out and she blinked them away fiercely. How dare they lie to her all these years? Tell her her mother was dead, that she had no siblings. She couldn’t take it any more and, jumping from her chair, she bolted through the back door and down to the beach. Joan called after her, but she kept running, towards the jump rock.

When she was half way there, she stopped. Tears streamed down her face, dried instantly by the cold, salty wind that blew. The sea was choppy, and the waves that crashed onto the rocks further towards the beach were huge. As she stared out to sea, something moved out the corned of her eye. Tilting her head ever so slightly, she could just make out a figure moving towards her. It stopped a few metres away from her, and sat, silent.
“I know you are there.” Erica said quietly, turning her head. It was Ahmet. His hair was dry, and it blew around his face. “I know you know.” He replied, moving closer ‘Who did you say you were?”
“Erica.”
“You look just like,”
“Malu. I know. She…she is my twin.” Ahmet didn’t seem surprised, in fact it seemed like he already knew. “You know already don’t you?”
“Not exactly.” He stared straight ahead, his hair whipping around his face. “There has always been rumour that Malu had a twin who lived in the on the land.”

Thousands of questions whizzed in Erica’s head. What was Malu like? What was her mother like? When could she meet them?
“Are you related to Malu, me?”
“No” Ahmet laughed, turning to look at Erica “Not at all. Wish I was though.”
“Why?” Why would he want to be related to me? Erica thought.
He laughed again. “No one told you?”
“No one tells me anything! I only found out about Malu and my Mother this morning, and that was only because I found some things I wasn’t supposed to!” Erica’s mind filled with frustration. Could he just spit it out? The reason he wanted to be related!
“Whoa! Calm down. I’ll tell you.” Ahmet’s hand was warm, gentle on Erica’s shoulder and she sat back down and waited for him to go on. “Alma, that’s your Mum, is the daughter of Owen and Enya.” Erica stared blankly. What was so good about what must be her grandparents?
“Owen and Enya are the rulers of our people. I think you call them Kings on land. That makes Alma and their other children important, and their grandchildren too.”
“You mean I’m like,” Erica couldn’t contain her excitement any longer “Royalty?”
“I guess so.”
“Oh my gosh!”
“But I don’t know how that applies to you and Malu.”
All the excitement seemed to rush out of her, like a bottle of soft drink that was shaken for too long. “Why?”
“Well, because your not full blood, and Owen didn’t approve of your father. Alma ran away to be with him.”
“So we aren’t as important because we are half bloods?”
“Look, I don’t know, maybe you should ask who ever told you about it in the first place. I have to go.” Ahmet said, running towards the water, where Erica had fallen in this morning.
“But wait, please don’t go!” Erica cried, chasing after him cautiously “At least meet me again?”
Ahmet crouched on a rock next to the swirling water, then quickly slipped into the crashing waves. Erica watched frantically, waiting for his head to appear, bobbing on the surface.
“Ok, tomorrow morning, early.” His head popped up twenty meters or so away from the rocks, then disappeared again.

Erica waited a while longer, but Ahmet didn’t appear again and Erica traipsed slowly home. She hadn’t realised that her clothes were still damp, and a sudden chill wrapped it’s way slowly around her body, like a snake coiling around it’s prey. When she got home Joan was sitting at the table with her head in her hands and Joan was pacing around the kitchen.
“Where have you been?” he demanded when Erica got to the back door.
“Talking.”
“Talking!” Jaohn’s face reddened even more, making him look like a an overgrown tomato “Talking to who!”
“None of your business.” Erica crossed her arms, glaring at John and Joan, who was now looking desperately from her husband to her grandchild.
“It is my bloody business.”
“No, it’s not!” Erica said, her glare intensifying before she ran out of the kitchen, down the hall and into the bathroom where she stripped off her wet clothes and stood under the shower head, letting the water run over her, washing her new tears away. “How could you do this to me, dad?” she whispered “How could you.”