Sea Salt

"Will that be all?" Thomas asked the sailor, arms folded. "Plenty, thanks," He replied with a toothy grin, grasping the crate of supplies in both arms. "Thanks for all your help, mate. My wife and I owe you one." He said as he shook one of Thomas’ calloused hands. "Not a problem," he answered, holding back the urge to push the guy off the jetty, what with his gross display of gratitude to a complete stranger like him, but hey, he gave them supplies when they had none, so he expected it.

And with that, the sailor boarded his boat and thanked Thomas once more before he raised the sails and unhooked the anchor.

Momentarily, the sailor's wife popped up from the cabin and mouthed a "call me" while mimicking a phone with her hand as she winked at Thomas. He winked back with a flirtatious grin, which, luckily for him, her husband did not see. Soon, the white boat sailed off, shrinking as it disappeared into the dark blue.

Sighing, Thomas made his way back towards his lighthouse. Pulling open the door, he climbed the weathered, metal flight of stairs to his quarters. The clanging sounds of his footsteps reminded him of how vast and also how lonely this place can be. The only real company he gets are seabirds and the occasional washed-up jellyfish. And if he was really lucky, some hopeless ship lost at sea comes across his not-so-humble abode to stay the night or to stock up on supplies, like today. Female ship companions are a bonus, of course, which he indulged in when he doesn't get caught.

It didn't always use to be like this, though. He was once an ambitious and reckless sea dog who had seen better days. Once, he was thrown in jail for sinking a whaling ship off the coast of Japan and another time was when he allegedly 'stole orcas from a Sea World to release them into the Pacific Sea. He's been there, done that. Seen it all, done it all.

But now, he was just known as that disgruntled lighthouse keeper who lives at the furthest point away from any landmass. Away from any living person. Away from all those sodding, carefree tossers. Don't they know what they were doing to the ocean with all their littering and dumping of rubbish and waste? Thomas recalled the other week where he was scrubbing a distraught pelican, coated head to toe in black oil and other gunk. His blood boiled at the thought of whoever caused another oil spill.

He was growing tired of humanity and its lack of fucks given. This was why he decided to live out here on his own. At least here he could have some sort of control. Yeah, he could create a non-governmental organisation for environmental protection, but where would he get the money? Where would he get the support? Who would listen to a jailbird like him?

Lying in his bed, Thomas took a swig of whiskey from the dark green bottle in his hand. The sounds of waves crashing against the rocks outside below soothed his headache, yet filled him with a sense of emptiness.

Unfulfillment.

Closing his eyes, he flicked through a mental album of all the people who came upon his lighthouse. The men and women only stayed for the sex and nothing else. When he would even so mention his maritime activist days, they would either force a smile or call him a hippy. So, he often refrained from boasting about his adventures and wanted them to leave as soon as possible.

The lighthouse keeper craved something more than the casual hookup from people he never saw again. He wanted companionship. Even if it was just a friend. Never in his life had he met anyone who fit that category of 'genuine.

People were selfish and too caught up in their own lives to be aware of the bigger picture. He would often wonder how long it would take before our planet would no longer tolerate humanity and force them to evacuate to another planet like Mars or something.

Thomas let out a hefty breath, hanging his arm off the side of his bed, swishing the remains of the whiskey in the bottle. In an alcoholic haze, sleep overtook him and he blacked out.

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The morning he woke up, the usual groggy pain made itself apparent. He felt slightly nauseous as he struggled to pull his body up and off the bed. Thomas was clearly hung-over. Steadying himself, he focused his vision on the window. Yellow and blue. It was past midday and the tide is getting higher on the sandbank. The sun was streaming through the window, bathing him in its warm light, making him shield his eyes with one hand.

Something else caught his eye, however. A different shade of blue from the usual ocean blue he saw. A small dot of indigo in the sand...

Wait, isn't that a body?

Thomas’ widened and he leapt out of bed. Quickly, he pulled on the boots he wore yesterday and grabbed a jacket. He ran down the metal stairs, boots clanging loudly on the steps. He hastily unlocked his door and left it hanging open as he bolted down the shoreline where the body lay. As he approached it, he saw dried blood, which had soaked into the grey sand. Thomas was standing over the still body now and what he saw was not what he expected.

The body belonged to a scrawny young... man? Woman? He wasn't too sure as it did not have any visible genitalia nor did it have any nipples. What it did have, however, was a full head of long, indigo hair, cuts, scrapes, and bruises on its face, chest, shoulders, arms and... wings??

Thomas took a step back as his jaw dropped.

He was silent for a moment, drinking up the unbelievable sight he was beholden with. An angel? No way. It has birdlike legs, which did not match the image he had in his head.

Thomas was too awestruck to fathom what sort of mythical creature he had found. He then began to wonder if you can hallucinate while being hung-over.

Suddenly remembering why he came down here in the first place, he quickly kneeled down next to the body. Cautiously, he placed his middle and index finger over the creature's pulse, or to where he presumes its pulse is.

And sure enough, he felt a slow pulsating sensation indicating life. He could also hear shallow breathing coming from the creature. A good sign, he thought to himself. Then, he noticed that one of the creature's feathered wings was bent a painful way. Thomas winced.

He had nursed birds with broken wings before, so this wouldn't be too hard to deal with... maybe.

Scooping up the body carefully in his arms, he carried the young creature to his bathroom where he ran a cold bath and gently eased the man, if he could even call it one, into the water.

Grabbing the nearest washcloth, he dipped it in the tub and wrung the excess water out with a strong twist. Shortly after, Thomas began wiping sand and dried blood off the creature's body. As he did so, he noticed how pale the creature's skin was in contrast to its striking head of indigo hair. Thomas then began to wonder how long the creature was lying on the shore before he woke up from his hangover. He hoped it wasn't too dehydrated.

Satisfied with his cleanup job, Thomas carried the creature to one of the two guestrooms and laid it on the bed. Carefully, he disinfected and bandaged the creature's wounds and its broken wing. His doctorate didn't go to waste, after all, he thought to himself. Tucking the creature in a loose blanket, he stepped out of the room to get a bottle of water for when it wakes up, as well as a means of collecting his own thoughts.

Shutting the door to the guestroom, he descended the stairwell towards the storage room he had in pursuit of the bottled water.

What is he doing? What could he be doing? He doesn't even know what this thing was. He doesn't even know what it could do to him if and when it wakes up. It could be venomous for all he knew!

Yeah, it may look human, but it has sharp talons for feet, and he could only imagine the damage it could inflict on him if he was attacked. And no one would even know if he died. Thomas would be left here to rot if he didn't run out fast enough to book the hell out of there on the spare boat he only uses to get groceries and more supplies. His heart hammered in his chest as he ascended the stairwell back to the guestroom the creature resided in.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of fabric rubbing together from inside the guest room. Then, he heard a loud thud and a strained yelp. Raising an eyebrow, he reluctantly approached the room and opened the door. The sight he saw was a bit... uhhh.

Thomas’ eyes centred on the heap on the floor where the creature was crouching under the blanket. Underneath, the creature stared back at Thomas. Its eyes were a inky black to his amazement. The creature seemed to have fallen off the bed and was entangled in the blanket, hence its dazed look. Its eyes reflected fear and curiosity. Looking like a lost child at a fair or something, Thomas mused to himself.

As he took a cautious step forward, the creature flinched, which made Thomas flinch back. Sweating bullets at this point, the man raised his arms and spoke in a low voice, trying to keep his voice steady.

"H-Hey, I'm not going to hurt you, okay? I'm only here to help you." He said at a slow pace, making sure the creature could sense some sort of comfort in his tone. The winged creature lifted the blanket off its head a bit with its arms, still sporting the same blank stare it had before. Thomas took this as a chance to slowly approach it again to which the creature did not flinch. The poor man was trembling slightly as he did this.

Soon, he was kneeling in front of the creature who was also in a similar position. They stared at each other for a moment, silently acknowledging the other's presence. Thomas seemed to drown in the pools of ink that were the creature's eyes as it stared back at his own. They were very quiet eyes, Thomas thought to himself. Both figures grew calm.

The creature attempted to flap its wings but winced when it felt the broken bone in one of them. "Hey, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but you're really hurt right now, so don't move too much, understand?” Thomas voiced to the creature, placing a hand on its shoulder. The creature began trembling, so Thomas quickly took his hand off.

"Sorry... " He mumbled. "Guess you don't trust me a whole lot, eh?" Thomas assumed.

Remembering the bottle of water in his other hand, he unscrewed the lid and held it in front of the creature. The indigo-haired creature stared at the object thrust in front of it for a moment before hesitantly taking it from Thomas’ hand, chugging down the clear liquid in long, greedy gulps. Soon after, the bottle was completely empty.

"You were really thirsty, eh?" Thomas said in an amused tone.

"Yeah, I was. Thanks." The creature said, quietly.

"Wait. You-you can TALK?!" Thomas exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief. The sudden loud tone startled the other, causing it to drop the empty plastic bottle on the floor.

"Sorry," The man lowered his voice, "-I was just... surprised, is all."

There was an uncomfortable pause. "A-

Anyway, now that I know you can talk, would you mind telling me how you ended up on my shore?" Thomas asked. The creature furrowed its brows and pursed its lips. Thomas waited patiently for its answer.

"I... I don't quite remember," It admitted. "It

'appened so fast."

"Well, what do you remember then?" The man questioned.

"Uh... well, I remember swimming with my friends, then-"

"Wait. What do you mean 'swimming'? You can't swim with wings." Thomas pointed out.

"Oh, I didn't tell you, but I can actually switch from having wings to having a tail. Pretty neat huh?" The creature explained with a smile.

"Oh. I see." Was all the man could utter after hearing that. Just what on earth is this guy?

"Anyway, I was swimming with my friends, yeah? Then, I saw this huge shadow and everything else after that was a blur." It continued on, "There was so much pain, blood was everywhere. I tried to escape with them, but I was the last one, and..." The creature began tearing up. Little hiccups escaping from its throat. It began to sob.

Heart aching at the sorry sight of the creature, Thomas hesitantly wrapped his arms around the creature and pulled it towards himself, embracing it as it wept into his white turtleneck. "Shh... it'll be okay. I bet they're looking for you right now. You will see them again." He reassured in a gravelly tone, hoping the creature would not ambush him right then and there. It had a strong scent of sea spray,

Thomas noticed as he held it close.

After a while, the creature wriggled free from Thomas’ embrace, seeming a bit calmer now.

It looked up at the man before it and smiled.

"Thank you," The creature said in a nasally voice. "You're the nicest human l've ever met, you know." It beamed.

Thomas’ face flushed at that. Nice? Thomas wouldn't exactly call himself 'nice', but he wasn't exactly mean either. He took it as a compliment, anyway. Clearing his throat, the man wanted to know one more thing, "Erm, may I ask what exactly are you?"

The indigo-haired creature blinked. "Oh. I'm a siren, of course."