Free Surrendering (Swans Landing) by Shana Norris

gone,” she spat at me before turning and marching away.
     
    * * *
     
    Since I was already out in town, I walked farther north along Heron Avenue to the squat blue building that served as the Sand Dollar Restaurant and Inn.
    The sign was turned to the OPEN side, so I pushed on the glass paneled door and stepped inside the dimly lit room. Large windows lined the walls, but the sky outside was so gray and cloudy that there wasn’t much sunlight filtering into the dining room. There were no customers at the tables, so the bell on the door jingled in the silent room as I entered.
    The swinging door to the kitchen opened and my former boss, Mr. Jasper, strode into the room. He was a older man, with thick gray hair and deep lines in his face. Those lines deepened as he spotted me, his mouth turned into a frown.
    “What’re you doing here?” he growled, his dark eyes looking me up and down.
    “I came back yesterday,” I said.
    “So I heard.” Mr. Jasper crossed his arms. “We’re not hiring, so don’t think you can get your job back.”
    I didn’t expect to. I had left without notice, and I had figured that bridge was long burned.
    “I didn’t come for my job,” I said. “I came to talk to you.”
    Mr. Jasper turned toward the kitchen. “I have nothing to say to you,” he growled as he disappeared through the door. It swung back and forth a few times, making a soft swishing sound in the silence.
    I couldn’t say I was surprised at this reaction. Mr. Jasper was never a very warm person, and I knew that he didn’t like finfolk very much. Now that he knew what I was, he would never welcome me with open arms.
    The kitchen was cold and quiet when I stepped through the door. My sneakers squeaked on the tiled floor. Usually, the kitchen at the Sand Dollar was full of activity, pots and pans cooking on stoves and chefs dashing back and forth. But today, it was still. The only person in the room was Luis, the head chef who usually worked alone only during the off-season. For the summer, there should have been at least four cooks with him, helping to manage the rush of tourists.
    Luis lifted his head from a magazine spread open on the counter in front of him. He studied me, but didn’t speak.
    “Hi,” I said at last. “Bet you didn’t expect to see me again.”
    Luis shrugged. “I figured you’d come back eventually. Mr. Jasper hoped otherwise, I think.”
    I glanced at the door in the corner that led to the offices, where Mr. Jasper had probably escaped to avoid me. “I see he hasn’t changed much since I’ve been gone,” I said.
    “What did you expect?” Luis asked. “You disappeared without notice. You not only left your mother, but you left your job. And then Mr. Jasper heard what people were saying about you, about what you really are. You lied to him, for a long time. He had respected you, Josh. You were a hard worker, a good young man. Now he doesn’t know who you are.”
    “I’m still the same person I’ve always been,” I said. “Finfolk or human, I’m still me.”
    Luis looked at me for a moment. Then he pressed his lips together in a straight line and shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s true.”
    I sighed. I didn’t come here to argue with anyone or defend what I’d done five months ago. There were more important things to worry about.
    “Have you heard what’s going on?” I asked. “What’s coming?”
    “Those creatures that people say are coming?” He nodded curtly and snapped his magazine shut. “I’ve heard.”
    Luis wasn’t a native Swanser. He had grown up in Texas and had only moved to Swans Landing about three years ago. Until now, I wasn’t even sure that he knew about finfolk. It wasn’t something that people talked often about with outsiders. Even though he’d been here for a while now, Luis would always be a Woodser, an outsider, in most people’s eyes.
    “You need to listen to it and take it seriously,” I told him. “These people aren’t going to