Page 13 of The Lighthouse Keeper and the Mermaid
She frowned before trying to make a gesture for eating, but she only realized once she was doing it that she was miming an imaginary spoon that he likely did not know. Frowning more, she tried again, pretending instead to bite down on the air in front of her like there was an imaginary cob of corn.
He laughed, and the sound was beautiful. Not quite like a human’s, but clearly a laugh all the same. It was musical, magical, like the ocean dancing over rocks. He put out his hands as if to say that that wasn’t necessary. She hoped he knew she was talking about food and not something about either of them.
“Did you save me?” she tried again, knowing it was probably pointless. But she was sure she had seen him last night. If he had been trying to hold up the captain, maybe he had saved the others too. “The boat flipped,” she said. She pointed to her boat, then tried to cup her hand, and tip it to represent it flipping. And then pointed to herself and made a leaning forward motion as if she was falling. “And then I fell out. And then something”—here she pretended to fake swim and smacked her head—“then something hit me and I blacked out.” She closed her eyes now and slightly slumped. “And then I woke up on a beach.” She didn’t know how to gesture that at allso she pointed down the way and made a motion that she hoped said long and flat.
But his eyes clearly told her he had no idea what she was saying, which was fair. She wasn’t good at communicating even when she had words. She highly doubted she was any clearer without them.
But she knew one thing. She wanted to see him again. She pointed down at him and he gestured to himself as if in question before nodding. She nodded as well and then pointed to the dock. “Tomorrow.”
The corner of her lip dipped again as she thought, but then she pointed to the horizon where the sun rose and moving her fingers, tried to make a shining sun rise. “Tomorrow morning.” She pointed to him and then the dock. “Can I see you again? Can you come here?”
There was a pause and then a nod. He said something in response, but she, of course, could not understand a word of it. She assumed she must sound as incomprehensible to him, but if shehadto guess, she could think he was agreeing.
Or at least, she really hoped he was.
Then he pointed to her and then the lighthouse, and saying something, he seemed to shoo her toward it. Did he want her to go? But why? Was he annoyed at her ineptitude and had only saved her out of charity?
Well, that was probably true. They didn’t know each other and saving a stranger was only done through good will. Still, she would never shoo any of the men she had saved.
But then, like he could read the hurt on her face, he swam a bit closer—the closest she realized he had been since he had put her on the boat or held her hand. In fact, for most of this exchange, he had stayed at least a dozen feet away as if he were still wary of her. But now, his expression turned soft, and he gestured to the sky and made what she guessed was meant to be churning clouds, rain, and lightning, complete with ‘boom’ sound effects.
She was blushing. She knew she was blushing, but my God, he was adorable.
“Is it going to rain?” Did he really think so? It was overcast certainly, but it didn’t look like rain at all.
But, well, she sighed; she needed to go anyway. Darkness would be coming soon and she’d need to light the light and…and she didn’t want to go. No, shewantedto reach out and touch him—though she wasn’t quite sure why as she had never had with anyone else in her whole life.
But he felt different. Just from his eyes, they looked so kind, sodifferent as opposed to the townspeople’s normal judgment, that she didn’t want him to ever leave.
But since he seemed to want her to go in the lighthouse, she reluctantly obliged, turning to look over her shoulder often until she finally lost sight of him, knowing damn well in her heart that she might never see him again.
CHAPTER 8
He was right. It started raining maybe two hours later, or really, it started down pouring like the Lord wanted to flood the earth once more.
Tired though she was, she made sure the light was lit and began keeping watch, hoping against hope that there would be no ships out tonight. Her muscles still ached; her head was still tender if she touched the back of it. No, realistically, she didn’t have much of another rescue in her, but if another ship were to go down, she wouldn’t have a choice. She could not rely on the supernatural to save them, even if she had just seen a mermaid.
Had she really though? It felt so much easier to believe he was a specter of a wounded mind rather than a living, breathing being.
She found herself instantly wondering how he breathed. Was he like the dolphins or the fish? She’d have to look next time to see if he had gills—if there was a next time. Given their obvious language barrier and the fact that she had never seen him before afterdecadesof being here, it seemed unlikely.
She wasn’t even sure why she wanted to. Surely it wasn’t scientific intent. Yes,shewas fascinated and she wanted to know all there was to know about him, but she would never share it.
They once had had a man of science stay with them at the lighthouse for two months. He had been studying a specific type of fish that lived in the area and had made a deal with the trading company who owned the lighthouse. There was nothing he had not killed and then dissected—even and especially the precious fish he was there to study. Worse, he had done it all with apparent glee as if he hadn’t been snuffing out life for the mere sake of curiosity.
Because she understood needing to kill to eat. She saw nature do that all the time. But killing just to know? That seemed too steep aprice for knowledge.
She had been young then—maybe ten—and he often had been out so she had rarely talked to him, but on the one occasion she had mentioned her worries to him, well, he somehow had completely misunderstood what she meant about life being precious and then he had gone off on a long tangent about how the greatest minds had the responsibility to learn. He had gone as far as applauding the killing of criminals to study anatomy. She could recall even now the repulsion she had felt, and even if he was in the minority of those so inclined to curiosity—and she hadn’t the faintest idea if he was or not—even one man who might wish to capture the mermaid was enough. Whether it was a minority or even a single actor didn’t matter once someone was dead. No, she’d keep this mermaid her best kept secret, as others must have done before her. Let them stay in myth. It was better that way.
The night was long and her mind kept drifting back to him. His long, white hair extended nearly the length of his back. His muscles looked like a perfection of the art of sculpture, and while she was no expert in anatomy—especially of the naked male form—all the muscles looked human enough.
His eyes were surely red though. Of that, she was not mistaken. And his lashes were as transparent as his hair on the water. His tail was like an artwork of tile, glittering silver and turquoise blue like the sea.
He was beautiful. Even now, the memory of him made her want to blush.
She knew she had heard stories of creatures—vampires, werewolves, incubi, demons, and the like—and how they had a supernatural pull on their natural prey, like magic or a spell. She would have called it hogwash two days ago. But now, now that the supernatural was very clearlyreal, what did she even know? Maybe hehadput a spell on her. They had certainly been close enough for it.
Or…
