Outer Ocean Odyssey

Four: Tide Pools

Once night fell, and the house was completely silent but for the sloshing of the ocean, Aruana would emerge. It wasn't that she was nervous to explore the building she now called home, but more comfortable by herself. There was no doubt in her mind that Chris or Rye could show her around - they had tried that, in fact, a few nights into her stay, but found every introduction to a room was tailed off, or sometimes interrupted, by a yawn - but there was something exciting about finding things out for herself.

    From what she had learnt, the house consisted of one predominate floor, with the attic space being reserved for the helm, and the basement being entirely one room; a space which also happened to currently be a pool, and her bedroom. At the far end of the initial hallway was Chris's bedroom, and the kitchen-come-dining room. A lounge and study sat left and right respectively at the front, with the ladder to the attic smartly hidden inside the wall.

    The only room she hadn't explored was the library.

    Rye didn't sleep, exactly; more hibernated. Most nights, she would find a cosy spot in the corner of the library to shut down for the evening, riving her bodily functions once either Chris woke her, or she felt it was time to wake him.

    Aruana peered through the open doorway, eyes wide, hands gripping the frame tightly. She spotted Rye on the opposite side, limp and lifeless. She put one foot forward, then stopped. It felt wrong, somehow. Every other room had been acceptable. Even Chris's. Something was telling her, however, that the library was somewhere that could only be seen whilst being watched.

    She returned to the basement, her human mind awash with questions.

    "Here you go," Chris said, his eyes averted.

    Aruana took the long soft object from his outstretched hand. "What is it?"

    "It's a dressing gown. You can put it on when you come up from the basement."

    She looked at the clothing, before slipping it on.

    Chris peeked from between his finger, then relaxed his hand. "Looks good!"

    "Why do I have to wear this?"

    "Because Chris gets too distracted," Rye said, passing between rooms.

    "I ... I mean, she's not wrong."

    "Distracted by what?" Aruana asked.

    Chris contemplated his response, eventually shaking off his nerves.

    "Put it this way," he said. "It's been a long time since I've seen anyone's body, man or woman. It's just something in our brains that clicks when we see ... certain things."

    "Humans are weird," Aruana replied with a smile.

    "That's what I said," Rye added, heading back to the lounge.

    "I was wondering," Chris continued. "Can I call you Ari?"

    "Ari?"

    "Yeah, like, for short. I thought it had a nice ring to it."

    Her smile widened. "It does ring."

    "Alright, Ari it is!"

    He headed towards his room, but Ari stopped him. "Before you go to bed, can you show me the library?"

    Chris hesitated, but shrugged. "Don't see why not. I don't go in there too much anyway."

    "It's my domain," Rye added.

    The shelves stretched the length of the room, covering every available wall space. In the soft amber light, the spines shone green, and red, and blue. Nothing was out of place, everything coated in a fine layer of dust. A musty scent emanated from them, sweet in their nostrils.

    "Do you know what books are?" Chris asked. "Or even what a library is?"

    "Somehow," she replied.

    Ari approached the books. The titles were nonsense to her, but deep down, there was a familiarity, as though turning human somehow connected her to another history; another world. She wondered if she should disclose the details of her curse, but for the time being, her curiosity took centre stage.

    "What's this one?" As she pulled the book from the shelf, a wave of grey particles rained down over the carpet.

    "That's Walter Mosley. Great crime writer."

    "And this." She took from another shelf.

    "Daphne du Maurier. Another good grab."

    "What about this one?"

    Chris looked. "Dr Seuss."

    Ari reached up and grabbed a leather bound book from the top shelf. "What about this?"

    Taking the book from her, he turned to a random page. "These are mine," he said.

    "You're a writer too?"

    "No ... well, technically, I suppose."

    "Just not a great one," Rye said.

    "You can't even write."

    "I have no need to. I express what I need through talking."

    "Maybe a little too often."

    Ari took the diary back, and turned to the last page. Although she couldn't understand what was written, she scanned across the words;

Day 1,983. What's that, 5 years? I almost can't believe it. Obviously it's not been 5 years here, but I'm no good at working it out.

    I met someone today. Something. I thought it might be a local, but from what I've gathered, we're both foreigners here. She told me her name was Rye. I had so many questions, and still have, but I guess knowing those two things is a start. How an alien can have such a human name, I don't know! Come to think of it, how I can understand what she's saying is a mystery to me. I suppose, it doesn't particularly matter.

    I'm missing you more and more each day. Just thought I'd add that. I know it's not what this diary is for, but where else am I meant to vent it?

    Other than that, I have nothing new to report. Let me know when you've collected all you need from the scanners. I'm lacking some good news.

    Until next time, then!

    Chris leaned back and sighed. "Five years ... wow."

    "Is that how long you've been out here?" Ari asked.

    "It was when I wrote that," he replied. "And that's been up on that shelf for a long time."

    "I didn't know you'd written about me," Rye added. "How sweet."

    "You were the most exciting thing to happen in a long time! Of course I wrote about you."

    The trio stood in silence for a moment. Chris contemplated grabbing another diary off the shelf, but resisted the urge. It had been so long. Longer than he cared to admit. Rye had become so synonymous with the house, he'd forgotten that she too was a stowaway. Had she changed at all in that time? Had he?

    Rye's mind was like the waves outside; forever moving, but rarely showing any sign of life. Much like the ocean, too, there was something deeper below that she had hidden, even from herself. Time would tell if she remembered, and even if that day came, whether she would tell Chris or not.

    Ari, despite being illiterate and slightly confused by the idea of writing down your feelings into a small, leather-bound object, knew she had found what she was looking for. Whether it could help her was unknowable, but she had to try.

    The silence showed no quarrel beneath. It wasn't long before all three had gone their separate ways, heading off to their respective beds.