Lost at Sea

Ch. 3

She'd been following him for ten minutes, maybe more, when she suddenly realized that they weren't headed anywhere near in the direction of her tiny one bedroom apartment. And why was she following him at all? In Sally's experience, following a monster rarely lead anywhere pleasant.

Only he wasn't a monster, was he? Or a nymph, or anything else she'd seen. He was something else. Something powerful, she could feel it. Maybe she should've been afraid, but she honestly couldn't help feeling almost at ease. Still, reason won out, and she finally stopped and called out, "Excuse me! Where exactly are we going? We're headed in the opposite direction of where I live, and..."

"Just follow," he called back without turning around. Only he didn't really call out. He merely spoke, and though he was several yards ahead she heard him as clearly as if he were walking alongside her. A thousand horror stories recorded on grainy videos she'd seen in high school, warning about this type of thing, flashed through her mind. But still she followed.

Eventually they came to thin wooden fence, about waist high that ran up the length of the beach, stopping just before the shoreline. The man -- she'd stopped thinking of him as young, because despite his youthful appearance Sally was beginning to get the sense that he was far, far older -- opened the small gate that was positioned about halfway up the fence and gestured for her to step through.

"Oh, no, I really don't think we should. It's clearly private. I'm sorry."

He smiled. "It is private. It's mine." He gestured again, and this time she went through. Of course the mysterious trident-wielding surfer guy had a private beach. Why not?

They walked just a few minutes further, and then the man stopped. "This will do." He took a seat in the sand, resting his arms against his bent knees. The laid back and relaxed nature of the pose was almost comical. Knowing he was waiting for her, Sally took a seat as well, about a yard away.

"So," he began, not taking his eyes away from the blue-green water ahead. "You saw my trident."

He said it so casually, like how someone might say, so, you have brown hair or so, there's sand on the beach. Completely unremarkable and obvious.

Sally nodded, then realizing that he wasn't looking at her, said, "I did."

"Do you often see things other don't?"

She considered lying. She'd spent years internalizing what she saw, suppressing any outward expression apart from her writing to avoid the weird looks and casual dismissal. She hadn't spoken about any of it out loud in years.

"Yes." Almost instantly she felt a weight lifted off her, one she'd been carrying so long she didn't even know it was there. She inhaled a deep breath, the taste of salt in the air suddenly more powerful. The scent of seaweed was more potent, the colors of the sky and sea more vibrant, everything around was brought into sharp, beautiful focus.

"It's been a long time since I've come across a human who can see through the Mist," he went on.

"The what?"

"The Mist. It's a sort of force, magic of a sort, that keeps mortal eyes shielded from what they cannot understand. But there are few with the natural gift to see through it. Sometimes these humans can see even more clearly than we do."

Sally's mind was reeling. Just to have spoken confirmation, established language to prove she wasn't crazy (which a small part of her always worried about) was incredible. Mist. That was why no one else could see. Mist.

Her barriers and reservations came crashing down in an instant. She needed to know more. "So there are more people like me? Who can see things? And who is 'we'? You're obviously not human. Well, I mean, not obviously obviously, you do look like a man, but you're not, are you? And you're not a monster or a dryad or anything else like that either. I've seen a lot, but I've never seen anything like you. And-- I am talking an awful lot, aren't I? And we hardly even know each other. It's just that I've never actually had anyone to talk to about this, you know? Other people are out for obvious reasons, and anyone else from this," she gestured her hand into the air, "well, they always seem off put by me. Anyway, I'm Sally. Sally Jackson." She extended her hand.

A bemused expression was playing across the man's face that normally would have made her blush, but she was so caught up in everything that she didn't even notice. He took her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Sally Jackson. I am Poseidon, God of the Sea."