Siobhan and The Boy from the Sea

Siobhan carefully made her way down the steep, stony footpath in her Wellington boots and walked down to the beach, catching a waft of the piquant smell of salt in the breeze as it sent her ginger hair, which she always tied into a low ponytail, flying like a small banner. The pleasing sounds of the squawking seagulls in the late afternoon sky and the low-tide waves rolling against the shore of fine, pale sand put her in a calming state of mind. As she walked down the shoreline, she admired the vast blue horizon with a placid smile, before turning and admiring the towering painted white and maroon lighthouse that stood majestically on the cliff across her.


Eventually, Siobhan reached the small wooden jetty where a homely row boat built from painted brown oak was waiting for her. It was the Arbroath, as shown by the painted white text on the hull, and she fondly ran a hand over the rough, tawny surface of her Pa’s diligently-built birthday gift from when he came to visit her for a holiday. After untying the knot from the rusty brass cleat that held it, she rolled up the loose cuffs of her cargo pants up to her knees and pushed the rowboat into the sea, briefly wading in the shallows until she could step onboard, then grabbed the oars that had been resting on the flat bottom and setting them into the crutches. She rowed out into the open ocean, whistling a few improvised sea shanties in doing so, as the outlines of the lighthouse and the rugged rocky cliffs with the soft, grassy green carpets on top of them grew further and further from her sight. However, she didn’t row too far, only stopping where she could view her island home against the upcoming sunset, which wouldn’t be until a few minutes. In hopes of passing the time, she carefully leaned back and lay against the Arbroath’s bow and gazed at the now marmalade-coloured sky.


SPLASH!


Siobhan was awoken by a splash of cool seawater to the face. Sitting up, she started to feel the rowboat rocking as she peered over and saw little waves forming in the water. Uh-oh, has the sea become choppy already? She wondered as she grabbed the oars, ready to row back home, until what she saw next left her astounded – there was a grey sea gracefully leaping in and out of the water with a trail of blood dripping from near its tail. But that amazement was quickly replaced with horror as right underneath it, the unmistakable head of a great white shark emerged, pursuing the seal and gnawing at it. Her heart hammering rapidly in panic inside her chest, she hastily rowed away from the precarious situation to maintain her safety but kept at a distance where she could still observe. Eventually, both predator and prey repeatedly leapt out of the water and back in, and all the while her eyes fixated on the chase until both animals vanished back into the water for good.
What the feck was that? she thought to herself, now petrified. That was intense!

***

The sun was low by the time Siobhan returned to the shore. Following the adrenaline from witnessing the earlier spectacle, the sunset managed to be the perfect cooldown, and despite having rowed out to the open sea many times on sunny late afternoons, there was always something about watching a sunset this way that was so mystifying that words couldn’t describe it. But upon alighting the Arbroath, she stopped and shrieked, suddenly turning pale. Right across her was an unconscious figure lying stomach-down on the sand, their face concealed in their elbows as wavy, dark hair flowed to the top of their shoulders. Panic surged inside her as she rushed swiftly to the figure, carefully grabbing them by the shoulder and turning them over.

“Lord Holy god! A-are you okay?” she asked as she gently lifted the person up by the back of their head. Upon closer inspection, the grey-haired person turned out to be a pale-skinned boy, approximately the same age as her, and slenderly built with light muscle save for a small but distinct paunch. The boy responded with a weak sigh of pain, and Siobhan then discovered a deep, fresh cut spreading down his left leg. The only garment on him was a shimmering grey cloak which complemented his hair colour. It felt like a furry pelt, and it had gorgeously dappled spots of beige.

Who swims with only a cloak? she wondered. And it seems as if he cut his leg on a rock. Despite not being a first aider, she removed her yellow scarf and wrapped it around his wounded leg. There was no other choice but to bring him back home, and after crouching down and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, she mustered all her strength to lift him up.

Well, she thought with a soft chuckle as she slowly made her way to the footpath with the boy by her side. Looks like I’m having a guest for dinner tonight.

***

The distant sound of boiling water woke the boy from his slumber. Groggily rubbing his eyes, he slowly sat up, still disoriented, and so blinked to regain his vision, But once he did, he realised he wasn’t in the sea anymore, even though the walls that surrounded him were painted in that familiar deep blue. It was decorated with quaint furniture that gave the room a villatic feel, and a plain white square inserted into the wall made a soft buzzing sound and filled the room with a gentle warmth. The boy pressed a hand onto the plush mattress and realised he wasn’t on the fine sand of the beaches, either – this surface felt strangely soft yet comforting, and his gaze turned to a soft cerulean duvet that covered his legs. Slowly rolling it down, he found that he was concealed by a soft, thin grey robe.

An unspeakable dread-filled realisation fell upon him. This wasn’t his pelt. Where was it, then? What was this robe doing on him? He kicked away the duvet in a panic to look for his precious pelt, panickedly lifting the matching pillows and peering under them as if they concealed the pelt from his sight, but it wasn’t there. He trembled and hyperventilated in short, ragged breaths while water collected at the bottoms of his eyelids. It wasn’t until he emitted a despondent whine that Siobhan opened the door, carefully carrying a tray with two bowls on top.

“Ah, you’re awake.” She took notice of his glistening teal eyes for the first time, which shimmered like the ocean’s surface against sunlight as he glared at her intensely.

“Um...if you’re looking for your cloak, it’s over here.” She stood next to the wooden rack of coat hooks hammered on the wall where the bed rested against and tilted her head to the cloak-like pelt that hung from one of them. The boy’s panic gradually died down with relief, but he still glared at her, his eyes narrow with distrust as if to tell her not to lay a finger on it.

“It’s a very lovely cloak! Real fur, eh? I can understand why you wouldn’t wanna lose it.” Siobhan gently placed the tray down by the bedside table before taking one of the bowls. “I just made dinner earlier. It’s seafood stew with cod and mussels – would you like that?” The boy’s eyes suddenly lit, and he broke into a winsome smile, nodding like a child receiving their favourite present. She chuckled as he grabbed the bowl, which he sipped from with hearty slurps. Climbing onto the bed and sitting across him, she spooned and sipped from her bowl while gregariously chatting with her new guest as he listened and nodded attentively despite not saying a word.

“It’s nice to cook for someone else, ya know? Usually it’s just me here,” she commented once they finished their soup. “That was my Pa’s recipe - he makes the best seafood stew in the world!” The boy nodded lightheadedly as he squeezed his eyes shut, before opening them again and jerking himself awake.

“O-oh gosh, I’m so sorry! I just kept blubbering again, didn’t I?” Siobhan apologised as she slid off the bed and carefully picked up both the bowls and tray from the bedside table. “You’re probably exhausted, so I'll let you get some rest. Goodnight!”

As soon as she shut the door of the guest room, she squealed in quiet excitement as she delivered the dinnerware to the kitchen. The days that would follow were going to result in some eventful stories worth sharing.
***
Siobhan stepped into the main room, stretching with a loud yawn as she was greeted by the soft sound of the waves crashing against the sand and rocks from outside while the sunlight shining through the main window tenderly kissed her freckled face with warmth. She even caught a whiff of something delicious from the dining table – something briny and....fishy? She rubbed her eyes, and to her bafflement, was a pile of cod that covered most of the table. Upon unravelling the pile, she found that there were a few mussels among the fish as well.

“Jesus Christ on a stick!” she exclaimed. “Where did all this come from?” Her answer instantaneously came in the form of the main door opening and the boy entering, carrying an armful of mussels which he added to the pile. He was already dressed in light summer wear, and he greeted her with a guileless smile and wave. Apparently, not even the now-bandaged wound on his leg could dampen his jocund spirits.

“H-how?” That was all that Siobhan could respond with as the boy attempted to explain himself through incomprehensible gesture, until he made C-shapes with his hands and tilted them up to his mouth.

“Um...more soup?” she guessed. The boy’s eyes lit with childlike delight as he clapped his hands approvingly and nodded, before pulling her in for a tight, affectionate hug, to which Siobhan could only giggle. “A’rite, a’rite - I’ll go make us some brunch then!”

After dressing up in something more comfortable, Siobhan and the boy sat opposite each other at the kitchen table - once again she spooned and sipped while he took the bowl and sipped from it like a cup, taking hearty slurps that savoured every drop. He also sucked the mussels out of their shells and stripped the cods down until there was nothing but bones; once he finished, he slumped onto the table in satisfaction.

“Now I see why you got an abundance of cod and mussels,” she realised heart-warmingly. “But how’d you get all of this?” The boy only responded with a shrug and a playful wink.

“A mystery, huh? Alrighty then.” An idea then crossed her mind as she stood up. “Oh, I usually spend the afternoons rowing out to the sea on my boat. Would you like to join me?”
***
Siobhan lay back on the Arbroath’s bow as she waited for the sunset with an excited grin, but the boy, who donned his shimmering grey cloak wasn’t sharing her enthusiasm; instead, he was glaring over the rowboat’s edge with great focus.

“What are you looking at?” she asked curiously and with growing concern, as he hadn’t moved a muscle ever since they rowed out to the open ocean. She turned in his direction, and an ominously dark, familiar shadow was approaching the rowboat. Suddenly, a great white shark emerged, causing the Arbroath to turn turtle as she shrieked. The cold water engulfed her, and consequently she couldn’t see and feel the boy pulling her close to him and bringing her to the surface, where she coughed and spluttered.

“What was that?” she exclaimed fearfully before spotting the capsized rowboat. “Oh no...” She sniffled and her lip began to tremble, but the boy comfortingly stroked her cheek and leaned in, kissing her tenderly on the lips. Then he released her and swam towards the Arbroath.

“Where are you going?” she called out loud fearfully. The boy only turned around and winked confidently, and upon reaching the rowboat he rested his hands on its overturned bottom before diving under. Confused and unsure on what her new friend was going to do and what she could do now, she swam out to a safe distance, and that was when she saw it – leaping out of the water and over the rowboat was a seal with a shimmering grey hide. However, there was something on its flipper that caught her eye. That seal has a bandage, she observed, just like....

The shark leapt out of the water in hot pursuit of the seal, and Siobhan ducked for cover. When it was safe to emerge again, she found that her rowboat was floating right-side up, but the shark and the seal were gone. That seal flipped the Arbroath back up. But where did he go? And what just happened? She shook her head in confusion and desperate denial, refusing to believe that he had abandoned her as she steadily climbed onto the boat. “Please, come back!” she cried out as it echoed throughout the open sea. But he never did.

***

Darkness eventually fell and the air grew cold, but Siobhan couldn’t bring herself to row back to shore. Her trench coat and beanie that kept her warm from the chills of the sea’s breeze were soaking wet, therefore making her feel even colder. Giving into these unfortunate circumstances, she curled up into a ball as she lay on the rowboat and waited in hopes that the boy would return, the moon and its light being her only comfort as she shut her eyes. Pa used to tell me stories about people who could turn into seals. And they were mostly very attractive, she recalled. Was he one of them? It couldn’t have been, could it? And just what were they called?

“Selkies!”

Siobhan woke herself up by yelling that. As she regained her senses, she found, to her surprise, that it was morning and she was back on the shore with the white and maroon lighthouse still standing majestically in the distance. However, the boy was still nowhere to be seen, and she accepted the truth with a despondent sigh. Her gaze turned to her lap, but what she found made her audibly gasp - not only was she covered from the chest down with a blanket of sand, but also in front of her was a small heap of cod and mussels.


She giggled bittersweetly at the sight as she wiped away a tear with her finger. “Well now,” she remarked between a sniffle, “I guess we’re even.”