Waterboy

[Sol]

The lighthouse is lonely sometimes.

The nearest town, a little fishing village of about 400 simply called Cherry Town despite not seeling or growing cherries, was a good ten miles away. The locals were fairly friendly but in a town where everyone knew everyone, it was daunting.

And this is where Jules found himself, as he had been for the past three years.

It wasn't his original plan, far from it, but it was a good option at the time, and it continues to be. His parents didn't think so, convinced in their ways and set on giving their "daughter" the best chance in life. While the sentiment is nice, it still makes him sneer when he thinks about it for too long. 

So he packed his things, hopped on the nearest boat, and made his way to the Cherry Islands the first chance he got. He still calls, he still writes, but less than he used to.

The lighthouse is sturdy in spite of its age, with a cute little house attached to the side that came fully furnished. The walkway is easy to clean, despite only being a worn dirt path, and the view and sound of the sea is something Jules never wants to give up.

Must be the namesake.

Looking at the rocky beach, seals are a common occurrence, all brown and big and noisy. Their barks and honks and snorts never fail to make his day, so he leaves fish for them near the water when he can. He doesn't think they need them, per say, but he hopes they appreciate the gesture at least.

The clouds hang heavy today, grey and full of rain that has yet to fall, clouds turning the sunshine from gold to pale. It's today when he walks on that rocky beach, feeling the salt spray and harsh wind nip at his ears and face, a basket of raw cod only half full at his hip. 

Jules lays them out at random, dropping one here and there and wherever feels right. It's an old ritual at this point.

A sudden bark startles him, but it's only one of the seals, pushing its body onto the beach toward him and the fish. None of the seals have gotten that close to him before.

Curious and more than a little nervous, he crouches and extends a fish toward the fuzzy seal, seeing the sleek brown of its fur and wanting to pet it.

It barks at him, quieter... almost assessing. When he doesn't move (he doesn't dare to even breathe) it leans forward. 

And suddenly shakes, water spraying from fur while it goes loose, and soon enough, a human face with teeth a little too sharp is grinning at him with seal-black eyes.

His jaw drops, and he's shock still as the seal? person? says "Thanks, fish man!" before snatching said fish and running to the water, seal fur in hand. 

Jules stands up too quickly, over balancing and landing on the sand with a solid thump while the seal person dives under the navy-grey waves.

A brown seal surfaces, barking at him before disappearing, like there was never a person at all. 

Jules runs his hand though his hair, eyes wide in shock, and whispers "What?"

[Ivy]

interesting

[Sol]

That first interaction was... defining, to say the least. 

It sent Jules' mind racing with the possibilities, and even the consequences. So he said nothing, and did nothing else. It wasn't easy, and it left him awake far longer than he could afford some nights, but it was doable.

Then things started appearing at his door.

The hill the lighthouse sat on was a decent walk away from the rocky beach, enclosed by steep walls on most sides that had to be climbed or maneuvered around. Something---someone---was bringing items up the rocks and onto his front steps.

An old fishing hook. Bits of sea glass. Full sand dollars and shells. Little gifts and trinkets and the occasional sea urchin. 

All good gifts, and Jules knows where they came from.

 

He catches the culprit after three weeks of gifting. Jules isn't ashamed to admit that he's turning into an old man that can't stay up past nine, but he manages it. Barely.

Just enough to see a figure wearing what looks like a fur coat walks up to the door. 

Opening it startles them both, the person jumping back and leaving him coiled and tensed. 

It's a selkie. The same selkie that thanked him for the fish, looking up at him with seal black eyes and trepidation.

"Hi." The words come out more of a croak, but it snaps the selkie out of their stupor.

"Bad fish man! You scared me!" the selkie yells. It's too late in the night for this, and Jules is too tired. "Jules, not fish man."

That gets the selkie to stop, tilting his(?) head at him curiously. In the lantern light, Jules can see the rich brown color of his pelt, shiny and soft looking. 

The selkie smiles and says "That's a funny name." 

"I suppose so. I don't know your name."

The smile broadens, showing of teeth a little too sharp. "Shell."

"It's pretty." Whether Jules meant the selkie or the name, he couldn't tell you.

He couldn't tell you why he lets the selkie inside, taking the gifts with him. He couldn't tell you why he starts heating milk on the stove while Shell curls up in his armchair. He couldn't tell you why he stays up until early morning, when he starts falling asleep. 

And he couldn't tell you if the hand stroking his hair was real, or just wishful thinking.

So he sleeps, content and warm, dreaming of seals in grey waves.

[Ivy]

Nice