Wheeling Gull Isle the wind is strong and the water deep

Nearly drowning had taught Simeon two things:

One, that his actions could lead more than him in trouble, and

Two, he needed to learn how to swim.

First, he'd have to gather up the courage to try. Since John had saved him and Dee, Simeon mainly stuck to the inland of Sweetharbour. At night, in his sleep, he sometimes dreamed of water swallowing him whole -- or worse, of water swallowing up one of his brothers or sisters, while his paws shook in molasses from the island's edge.

Unable to save, unable to help.

He told no one of these dreams except for Psalm, because Psalm didn't talk, and the look in the big turtle's eyes was so nothing that Simeon could read any emotion into them. And, on the brave days he wandered down to the tide pools, he liked to think Psalm was listening, and that the squint of the turtle's eyes was wisdom or compassion or maybe even a mutual understanding or something.

The tide pools were on his mind today, and, looking around to make sure nobody would follow him, he slipped out of the densite and walked until he reached Psalm's shore. There he crouched and talked to the turtle, Sharing the things he felt he just couldn't -- wouldn't! -- share with his family. If word got out he was scared of the water -- !

I bet you were never scared of the sea, Simeon said to the turtle, who narrowed its eyes like it was laughing, knowing, and at this, Simeon found himself giggling too, or maybe you are, and that's why you stay on the island all day.

Maybe that meant he would, too.

But he thought of the landbridge, of the vague hilltops beyond, and his smile fell with a heavy sigh. I've gotta learn how to swim someday. What if someone else got stuck out there and he couldn't save them? I just... don't want them to see I'm scared.