The Tether

Port Lavender was small enough that secrets were impossible.

On Thursday, Isla and Leo were walking down Main Street to get hardware supplies. They weren't holding hands, but they were walking close enough that their shoulders bumped with every step.

"So, you really hate the ocean?" Leo asked, swinging a bag of galvanized bolts.

"I respect the ocean," Isla corrected. "I hate the town. It’s a trap. Everyone talks about the 'magic' of the coast, but really it’s just rust and unemployment. I got a scholarship to Ohio State. Structural Engineering. I want to build things that stay still."

"Ohio," Leo mused. "Lots of corn. No wind."

"Exactly. Peace."

They passed the bakery, where a stooped figure was sitting on a bench feeding seagulls.

Mrs. Gable. The town psychic. She was eighty years old, blind in one eye, and terrifyingly accurate about the weather.

"Isla Vance!" Mrs. Gable cackled, pointing a gnarled finger. "And the Sterling boy!"

Isla groaned. "Walk faster."

"Stop!" Mrs. Gable slammed her cane on the pavement. Leo stopped out of polite reflex.

The old woman peered at them with her good eye. She looked at Isla, then at Leo, then at the empty space between them.

"The Tether," she whispered, her voice sounding like dry leaves skittering on pavement. "Thick as a hawser rope, that one is."

"We're just getting bolts, Mrs. Gable," Isla said, trying to pull Leo away.

"You can't cut it," Mrs. Gable warned, ignoring her. "You can run to Ohio, girl. You can sail to the ends of the earth, boy. But the Tether holds. If you fight it, the sea will drag you back. It always does."

She spat on the ground. "Beware the storm."

Isla dragged Leo away.

"What was that about?" Leo asked, looking back. He looked more intrigued than freaked out.

"Local tourist trap nonsense," Isla dismissed. "The legend of the Siren’s Pull. Supposedly, some souls are tied together. If they separate, disaster happens to bring them back. It’s how they sell lighthouse keychains."

"The Tether," Leo tested the word. He looked at Isla. "Sounds kind of nice. Being tied to someone."

"Sounds like suffocation," Isla muttered. "Sounds like getting stuck in Port Lavender forever."

"Maybe," Leo said softly. "Or maybe it’s an anchor. So you don't drift away."

Isla stopped walking. She looked at him. "I want to drift away, Leo. That’s the point."

Leo looked hurt. He covered it with that blinding smile, but Isla saw the crack.

"Right," he said. "Ohio. Corn. I forgot."

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