Free Water Steps by A. LaFaye

want to catch an owl while it’s still hunting. I don’t want to see it actually catch anything.”
    â€œOwls?” he asked as I pushed him onto the porch.
    Luckily, Mem and Pep were shouting, “Happy hunting!” too loud to hear him.
    Heading off the deck, I told him, “Owls are my cover story, so don’t blow it.”
    â€œI thought your parents knew about the silkies?”
    â€œThey do.” Drat, I’d trapped myself. If I told Tylo why I needed a reason to be on the steps the night before, then he’d find out I’m afraid of water. And there’d go another friendship. But wait, I had a way out. “You didn’t want them to come with us, did you?”
    â€œNooo.” Tylo shook his head as he headed for the steps to the beach.
    He raced down them like they were nothing more than the stairs that got him from his bedroom to his breakfast.
    Seeing him get closer to the water, I froze up. “Hey, Tylo.”
    He stopped.

    â€œOwls don’t go down there.” Okay, so I couldn’t go down there, but the owl excuse had worked so far.
    â€œRight.” Tylo spun around and ran back up.
    Felt lighter to have him up at the top with me. We headed into the woods.
    As I followed him through the trees, I struggled to find a way to keep us away from the water, but close enough to photograph his jumping fish-silkies. The need to keep the camera dry would keep me out of the water, but not off the beach.
    Beaches freaked me out. Not only did they border the water, but the suck-in-your-feet sand pulled you down if you stood in one place too long. Tylo had complained about all the rocks on the beach, but rocky beach or not it was still too close to the water. I could feel the moisture in the air like liquid mold on my skin and smell the rotting weeds. Yuck!
    But wait. Smell—yeah, that was it. “Hey, Tylo.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œI hear silkies can smell as well as they can see.”
    Tylo kept walking, but he shouted over his shoulder, “They can see underwater, even in the dark.”
    â€œWell, did you know they can smell you from a hundred yards away?”
    â€œOh, man!” He said it with a heavy bummer accent.
“And my mom made me wear this stinky bug spray.”
    If we could get up high enough, I’d be fine. Heights didn’t scare me, just water. And if we could watch from above, I could convince myself the black water was nothing more than wheat moving in the night wind. High. That’s it. My tree fort would be perfect!
    Tylo stared at his bangs, trying to think.
    â€œI’ve got some place.” I grabbed him and started to drag him to the clearing. We made it there before I got my first bug bite. Now, that’s what I call trailblazing.
    The moon lit up the clearing all glittery blue. Made the climb up easy.
    Tylo asked, “You build this?”
    â€œMe and Pep.” Felt good to say that.
    â€œCool. But how can we see a silkie from here?”
    I pulled his binoculars up to his eyes then pointed through the branches.
    â€œMega-cool,” he said, leaning out.
    I held my breath, then snuck a peek. In the dark, even with the full moon, the sway and swash of water just looked like wind wooshing wheat around if I squinted my eyes just right. Crouching down on the floor Pep and I had lashed down, I could hear the waves below, but I just gave the swing in my head a push and kept calm— up, then back, up, then back —no problem.

    Lying down, Tylo brought out his goodies—brownies and bug juice (aka Kool-Aid). We were set for a night of silkie spotting.
    But all we saw poking up out of the water were rocks, rocks, and more rocks.
    â€œDid you know that silkies can come ashore and take their pelts off like a robe?” Tylo asked, smooshing brownie bits to his teeth.
    Know it? I’d heard the story so many times I repeated the second half without even thinking. “And if someone finds