Saltwater Secrets, Book 1: Song of the Sea

By Jade Varden

I always knew who my mother was. I always knew where I belonged. And I always knew I wanted to be on the water, like my dad.

...Until I was forced to go out into the water, anyway. Out there, you feel really lonely. But you’re never alone. There is more life and emotion under the waves than most humans will ever see, more than I could have ever imagined. Down there, it’s an entire world of rage and hate, love and hope. It’s a world of fear.

It’s a world of war.

Once, my mother told me she would sing me a song of the sea. But under the waves, the only music I ever heard was the sound of screams.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jade Varden
• Release date: Dec 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310266829

Jade Varden

Jade Varden is a teller of tales from Louisville, Kentucky. The Deck of Lies series is the first in several young adult series and stand-alone novels Jade will publish in 2012 and 2013.

Book preview

Saltwater Secrets

Book I: Song of the Sea

By Jade Varden

Copyright 2014 by Jade Varden.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Created and published in the United States of America

Part I

All of us have in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and, therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea — whether it is to sail or to watch it — we are going back from whence we came.

- John F. Kennedy

Prologue

I always knew my mother was unhappy. I just didn’t know why.

I don’t really know when I realized she wasn’t happy. When I look back at my childhood, all I can remember of her is long, black hair blowing in the wind as she stood on the deck of our house. She spent most of her time staring at the ocean with a sad expression on her face. The ocean was all around us, and it was the center of our world. It surrounded the tiny island where we lived (Matinicus, Maine. Population: 54), forcing us to contend with the water if we wanted to visit the mainland. It was the source of all our income, and it has always felt like my best friend. It just didn’t occur to me, back then, that my mother was looking at it differently.

Our house sat on a high, rocky bluff that overlooked the narrow strip of beach where our boathouse stood. Every day, my dad took the boat out on the water. He was a fisherman, and that’s actually how he and my mother met. She was in a terrible boating accident and very nearly drowned. My father came bouncing along the waves in his Boston Whaler and scooped her right out of a blow-up life raft.

It was such a romantic story, but the drama of almost drowning severely affected my mother. Since that day, she never went on a boat or in the water again. I often wondered if she was remembering her accident, those times I caught her staring at the gray waves of the North Atlantic Ocean.

I, too, was fascinated by the ocean, always had been. I think I could swim before I could walk. My dad once told me more than seventy percent of the Earth is the oceans. They connect everything to everything else. They link the continents, rivers, all the other oceans. And here’s the interesting part: most of the ocean floor is still undiscovered, unmapped. Unexplored. Scientists guess at all the different life forms which might exist in the ocean—but they don’t really know.

It is a liquid land filled with secrets and mysteries, and I wanted to discover them all. Looking back, maybe I was always interested in the water because I wanted to know why my mother found it so fascinating. Maybe I should have stayed on that small strip of beach.

But I didn’t. I went on a journey to find my mother…and somewhere along the way, I found myself instead.

Chapter 1: Homework

Every weekday, I attend Vinalhaven High School, which is in the same building as Vinalhaven Elementary School. Vinalhaven is an island that’s somewhat bigger than Matinicus—big enough for a high school, anyway. I had to catch the ferry at six every morning to get there on time, but I’d learned there was at least one truly exceptional reason for taking the trip…and his name was Luke Allen.

He was tall for a sophomore, nearly six feet already, and the most handsome boy I’d ever seen. His smile was just a little crooked, the right side rising above the left, and it was absolutely adorable. It was the first thing I’d noticed about him, that smile, and ever since I’d wished he was smiling at me. Luke Allen had a perpetual golden tan, absolutely perfect teeth and a dimple in his chin. I always thought that if he wasn’t stuck in Maine, he would probably be on a TV show.

The Allens were a rarity in our small, close-knit group of island communities: they were mainlanders who actually moved to Matinicus. People rarely moved to the cold, rocky islands off the coast of Maine—mostly, they moved away. But the Allens were different. The oddest thing about them was why they didn’t move to the islands: to fish. The Allens neither fished nor sailed, but they did take an awful lot of trips to the mainland so Mrs. Allen could shop. Mr. Allen was an artist of some sort, and I once overheard him say that he loved the cold, austere atmosphere of the islands.

This was what I knew of the Allens; enough information for me to decide that Luke was the most fascinating person I’d ever met in my entire life.

At the Vinalhaven School (population: 200), everyone knew everyone else, but I was still surprised the day Luke Allen actually spoke to me.

I can’t do this, the urgent whisper came from my left side. Stacey Wright’s big, blue eyes were swimming in tears. Her face had completely drained of color.

Sure you can, I hissed back, trying to give her an encouraging smile. The truth was, I wasn’t feeling up to today’s biology assignment, either.

I’m going to be sick! With that, Stacey bolted from her desk and went running out the door.

Some of the kids laughed, and Mr. Warren looked around the room sharply. The giggles died away into silence. You’re going to need a lab partner for this one, Miss Douglas.

Yes, sir. My usual partner just left. I don’t think she’s coming back, I answered.

Luke’s partner is out sick. Work with him for the day.

My heart started to pound so hard, I wasn’t sure I would be able to stand. I was saved from the effort when I saw Luke grab his book bag out of the corner of my eye. He’s coming over here.

I felt him slide into the seat Stacey had so recently left, and sent up a silent thank-you to her weak stomach. I no longer smelled formaldehyde, and the quivering feeling in my stomach was now definitely different. Luke Allen was sitting next to me.

Mr. Warren walked around the room with a large, white bucket. While I tried to think of something funny, interesting and great to say to Luke Allen, he reached into the chemical water and pulled out a limp, white, dead frog. Without a word, he flopped the tiny carcass down on the lab table in front of me.

I quickly turned away.

Kinda gross, huh? Luke glanced at my white face.

After three years of dreaming about it, he had finally spoken to me, and the frog smelled so bad I couldn’t think of anything to say back to him. Yeah, I muttered.

This was probably going to go down as one of the worse days of my life.

Here, Luke reached past me to pull the tiny body to his station. I’ll take care of it. He winked at me as he said the words, and my heart fluttered. Maybe the day could be salvaged after all.

It’s a little unfortunate that we have biology right before lunch, I joked. The most amazing thing was happening: class was over, and Luke Allen was walking with me down the hall. It had happened so naturally, I didn’t have time to get nervous. He simply followed me out of the door and down the hall, his shoulder nearly brushing mine as he kept pace with my steps.

You said it, he laughed. But I guess it wasn’t so bad. I hear that, next year, we have to dissect a cat.

I looked at him, trying to gauge whether or not he was joking. No, seriously?

He shrugged. That’s what I hear.

Well, I’m not doing it, I decided.

Have you done that stupid family history project yet for Mrs. Arnold?

No, I haven’t even started. It’s due tomorrow, right? I’d known for some time now that Luke was a better student than I was. I had a bad habit of blowing off my homework, usually in favor of swimming or going out in one of our boats. The family history project, however, was a big part of our English grade. We were supposed to look for old artifacts in our houses and write a paper about it. Mrs. Arnold had assigned the project two weeks before, but I’d found one excuse after another for putting it off.

Yeah, tomorrow, Luke confirmed.

I guess I’ll go home today and look through the junk in the attic, I groaned.

I’m already done with mine. I could come over and help you finish yours tonight, if you want.

I almost stopped walking, I was so surprised. Really?

Sure, he shrugged. I don’t have any major plans.

Okay, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. Sure, that’d be great. We live in Old Cove, at the end of Shag Hollow Road.

I know. I’ll be there around five, okay? Luke stopped at the entrance to the cafeteria.

Okay, I struggled to keep my tone casual.

See you then.

See you, I echoed. Luke disappeared into the cafeteria, and I was left standing in the hall wondering if we’d just arranged a date…or if he was just being nice.

***

Whoa. Slow down, kiddo, my dad quickly side-stepped as I came hurtling through the kitchen, my book bag clutched in my left hand.

Sorry, dad, I paused to kiss him on the cheek. Luke Allen is coming over to help me study and I need to change.

What’s wrong with what you have on?

"He’s already seen this," I rolled my eyes at him and quickly ran up the back stairs to my room. I only had two hours to change clothes, straighten up my room and call Stacey to tell her everything that had happened.

I have a cool room, even though it's sort of small. Our house is really old, built at the turn of the century. When I was little, I thought it looked like a palace. My dad says it's a Queen Anne style, which seems to mean it's very tall with narrow rooms. It's Victorian, and has five fireplaces and hardwood floors all over. My room is all the way at the top of the house on the third story. Dad calls it my tower, and when I was younger I liked to pretend I was a princess in my tower room. It has a curving window with a window seat where I sit and read.

I sometimes sit and read after school, but not that day. That day I was racing around trying on different clothes and staring at my face to see if there was anything Luke Allen might like about it.

When I looked in the mirror, I saw a fairly average-looking teenage girl. Only recently emerged from braces, I was constantly grinning at myself in mirrors—delighted and somewhat awed by the presence of even, white teeth. I thought that maybe my eyes—which were the same bright green shade as my father’s—crinkled a little too much when I laughed, though the rest of the time they looked almost too large against my pale face. I had my Irish father’s pale white skin and light red hair in a shade of strawberry blonde, which I wore long and straight down to the middle of my back. When I felt courageous, I tried to curl some of the thick mass with soft rollers, but usually ended up with a few strands of bent hair. What I didn’t have was my mother’s gorgeous, curvy figure. I was lanky, at five-foot-five a little taller than other girls in my class and skinny from riding my bike all over our small island community.

What would Luke Allen see when he looked at me? I sighed when I thought about it.

Two and a half hours later, we were both digging through dusty boxes in the attic. A single light bulb hung down from the old pine rafters, illuminating Luke’s sandy blonde hair. He wore it a little long in front, and it kept falling over his forehead. He’d toss it back every few minutes with a casual shake of his head. I wanted to reach out and move the hair for him, but we didn’t know each other well enough for that yet. Maybe soon…

How about this? Luke’s voice brought me back to the present. Dust motes danced in the air as he pulled an old baseball cap out of the trunk. It was white and red and had the words Maggie May written across the front.

I grinned, gently taking the cap out of his hand. This was my dad’s. He used to wear this when we went out on the boat. I don’t think it’s old enough to be considered an artifact. Where did you find this?

Luke gestured to the trunk he’d been digging through, a black, boxy piece of luggage with tarnished gold hardware. In here with some other clothes and things. There’s some weird animal skin or something at the bottom.

Animal skin, I wrinkled my nose and crawled over to him, abandoning the stack of boxes I’d been sorting. Let me see.

Luke moved over so I could reach into the trunk. Together, we pulled out a large, surprisingly thin hide. The texture was smooth and silky, the leather incredibly flexible. I wonder what it is, I muttered.

Luke rubbed the material between his fingers. Maybe a seal skin?

Maybe, I agreed, rubbing it between my hands. It looks pretty old.

Well, we’re supposed to bring in something unusual. I’d say this qualifies.

You think so? I glanced up, meeting his deep brown eyes. I almost gasped out loud. I didn’t realize how close we were sitting. If I moved just four inches forward, we would be kissing. The thought made me blush.

Yeah, I think it’ll be fine. You can write about your family’s history in fishing, or seal-hunting, or something.

That sounds pretty good, I breathed the words softly. A strange look had come over Luke’s face, and suddenly I had the feeling that he was thinking about kissing me, too.

We stared at each other a long moment, but then my dad broke the spell. You finding anything up there, kids?

I briefly closed my eyes, knowing the magical moment had passed, and jumped up to poke my head over the opening to the attic. Yeah, Dad, I think we found something. We’re coming down. I glanced over my shoulder at Luke. You want to see my room? Dinner should be ready in a few minutes. We can hang out there until it’s done.

He shrugged and stood. Sure.

Okay, I grinned and turned, preparing to climb down the ladder.

Wait! Luke moved quickly, closing the distance between us in three long strides. Let me go first, so I can make sure you get down safe.

Thanks, I was blushing again. That’s really nice of you.

He was considerate and gorgeous…and maybe I’d missed my only opportunity to kiss him.

This is it, I led him into my room moments later. Like the rest of the house, all the woodwork was painted white. When I turned fourteen, my mom let me pick out my own paint for the wall. I chose a grayish-blue that reminded me of the ocean, and light green curtains and bedding to go with it. My room was cramped, with furniture and bookcases that lined three walls of the room. My bed sat against the only wall with a window, a single-paned affair that looked out over our boathouse.

You’ve got a lot of books, Luke said the same thing everyone always said when they went into my room.

Yeah, I like to read. I sat down on the end of my bed, watching him.

He looked around for a few minutes, walking over to my desk to look at my stack of games, before he started reading some of the titles of the books. "Moby Dick. The Old Man and the Sea. He turned to me and smiled. Big fan of the ocean?"

I shrugged. I’m kind of into it, I guess.

And you collect bottle caps, he was looking at the bookshelves farthest from the door, where I’d decided to display my treasures.

Yeah…it’s kind of weird, but look, I hopped off the bed, gesturing for him to move close to the shelf with me. I only collect foreign or far-away bottle caps. See, this one’s from Switzerland. These are from England. And this one, I reached up carefully to pluck a green and white cap from the third shelf, came here all the way from Hawaii! I held it out for him to see. See the writing?

Luke leaned close to look at the cap, his forehead nearly touching mine. My heart felt like it was going to explode, it was drumming so hard. I had to remind myself to breathe just so my hand wouldn’t shake. That’s actually pretty cool, he looked up at me and smiled, eyes dancing. But it is kind of a weird hobby. Luke gently removed the bottle cap from my palm, placing it back on the shelf before he took my hand. Holding it in both his hands, he looked into my eyes. Is there anything else weird I should know about you?

I have webbed toes, as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to bite my tongue off. I don’t know why I just told you that.

Webbed toes? His eyebrows rose. Really?

Yeah, it’s weird. I’m embarrassed to wear sandals. It’s like, a birth defect-type thing. My parents wanted to have it fixed when I was a baby, but there’s something about the way the cartilage is, or something, that means it would probably mess up my feet. So, I just have to live with webbed toes, my voice trailed away. Luke was looking into my eyes, and it was impossible for me to concentrate on what I was saying.

So, webbed toes and bottle caps?

I guess that about covers it, as far as weirdness goes, I barely managed to get the words out. Luke was wearing that I’m-going-to-kiss-you expression again, and I was having trouble catching my breath.

Dinner’s ready! This time, it was my mom who killed the moment.

Luke and I stood frozen for a moment, paused somewhere between a magical moment and my mom’s voice. Dinner’s ready, he finally said. He held my hand a moment longer, then wrapped his fingers around mine so we could walk to the table together.

Luke didn’t know—and at that time, I didn’t either—that things were about to get a whole lot weirder.

So you’re in Brenna’s English class? My dad, as always, sat at the head of our four-seat kitchen table.

Yessir. I’m in all of Brenna’s classes, Mr. Douglas, Luke answered.

We dissected a frog together in Biology today, I added. But Luke did all the work.

I thought Stacey was your lab partner? My mom glanced up from her plate of baked fish.

She is, but as soon as the frogs started getting passed around she had to leave.

The table lapsed into silence as everyone turned their attention to their food. Luke was sitting across from me, and I was having trouble swallowing. He had absolutely perfect manners, and I kept forgetting and putting my elbows on the table.

The fish is very good, Mrs. Douglas, Luke filled the silence.

Call me Yara, she smiled. And thank you; I use fresh dill on it.

I’ll have to tell my mother about it. Her fish is always a little too salty. But still very good, he added quickly.

I bit back a sigh. He was polite, he was careful not to insult his mother, he had good table manners. Luke Allen was a little too perfect. I felt