Page 67 of The Wild Beneath

“I think they’re free.” His words drift between them. “Did you ever feel lonely sailing so long?”

“Sometimes.”

“But not always?”

“Most times I didn’t ever want to come ashore.”

“Mmhm.” He looks at her.

“But that part of me felt a little unhinged, too. Like if I gave in to it, I might float off and lose track of everything. You know?” She takes the book from Walker’s hands and skims the page, then reads a section aloud: “Albatrosses spend the better part of the year sailing above the open ocean alone but return to the same partner on land year after year.”

Walker studies her face. “You like how that sounds?”

“I want to feel... not alone? Like I belong somewhere.” Annie meets his eyes. Why is he looking at her so attentively?

“You know, you’re never alone,” he says.

“I feel like I am.” Tears threaten. “I keep trying to imagine leaving in October. Then I’ll have no home base at all.” An image of herself appears in her mind: nice clothes, coffee cup in one hand, a city street. No hum. It makes her feel exhausted and small.

Walker takes her hands. “Can I show you something?”

“Please.”

He presses their palms together, entwining their fingers. “Close your eyes,” he says.

She does.

All at once, the couch melts away and, in its place, a float-tank feeling—­no grounding at all. She loses track of up from down as the water sinks into her. A deeper outside-in pressure builds against her limbs.

Her vision fills without opening her eyes: She’s lying on the ocean floor. The sea rests upon her, soaking into her arteries and organs, filling her to the brim.

It feels...real.

“There,” he says quietly.

When Annie opens her eyes, she’s back in the living room. “What was that?”

He’s smiling. “You’re getting good at it.”

“What did I just do?”

He pulls her up to the window and presses his other hand to the glass. “What do you feel when you look out there?”

Her body feels warm and suspended in softness. She leans her forehead against the cool window. “I feel better.”

“Maybe you already know what you need.”

Her breath fogs the window. “Live on a sailboat again?” she asks. “Everyone thought my mom was crazy for doing that.”

“So?”

Annie pauses. “She loved the sea more than anything.”

“Because the sea is so beautiful.”

Walker says it with a longing Annie feels in the front of her neck, something so tender it brings more tears to her eyes. She can’t help but ask him again.

“Where did you come from?”