The Beachcomber

The Beachcomber

15 February 2003

33 years old

Jenny walked along the seashore, stopping on occasion to toe an interesting shell out of the wet sand. The tide was still low, but rising, reaching up now and again to lick at her ankles. As the waves receded, she let the sensation of vertigo overtake her. She hovered off-balance as the loose ground rushed past and slightly gave way beneath her feet. She loved living near the ocean, loved the crashing waves and the fury of nature out here. She relished the quiet lapping of water on still mornings; the tang of sea salt on the air, and the taste of it on her skin after a swim; the whisper of sea grass at low tide, so like the sound of trees in the wind, but frailer, more delicate. She even loved the white crust that coated the windows and beams and crevices of her beachfront house.

Trixie trotted alongside her, sniffing a piece of driftwood here and there, or a clot of seaweed. Jenny stopped to gaze at the ocean and watch the clouds roll in. They were fast-moving, low-hanging clouds, a dark blue-grey. There would be a storm soon, no doubt of that, she thought. She looked around and whistled for Trixie. The golden retriever barked and she followed the sound around the bend to a small cove where low cliffs gently rose.

When Jenny found her, she was still barking, her forepaws on the chest of a man who had been strolling along the beach from the other direction. Jenny groaned. It was that crazy beachcomber again. In spite of the brisk weather, he was barefoot and wore tattered brown clam diggers. An old green vest hung from his shoulders, and a blue tee-shirt beneath. Scraggly, ash-colored hair hung to his shoulders. Jenny had seen this man before, but they had never spoken. Once, when they had crossed paths, his dark-brown eyes had peered into her aqua ones. Jenny was struck by a deep sense of familiarity, and they’d stared at one another until she passed him by. When she’d looked back a few minutes later, he was gone.

“Trixie! Come here now! Leave him alone, will you?” she shouted. The man waved but Jenny avoided his gaze. He lowered his hand and moved on, casting one last glance over his shoulder before he walked away to a point beyond the cove. Jenny marched toward the dog, her sneakered feet pushing divots into the sand. Trixie barked twice and bounded across the beach to scramble up the rocks of the cliff, until she stood just within the hollow of a small cave. She whined and wagged her tail, imploring Jenny to follow.

A stretch of tall grass and sand lay at the base of the cliffs. Jenny picked her way through the scrub, then clambered up the low shelf of rock and pulled herself into the hollow. It was dark inside, but enough of the day’s fading light reached far enough to illuminate an opening in the back. Next to it lay a pile of driftwood and an old tinderbox. Jenny shifted her attention back to her dog, which sat at her feet wagging its tail. “What the heck are you doing up here? We should get home. It’s going to storm soon.”

She reached down and scratched Trixie behind the ear, trying not to remember the scruffy beachcomber having done the same thing a few moments before. Outside, the wind had picked up and thunder muttered in the distance. Rain began to fall in slow heavy drops.

“Well, you old mutt, you got us into this mess. Looks like we’ll have to ride out the storm in here.” She shivered in her light jacket and glanced at the tinderbox, grateful to whomever had left it behind. She walked over to it and picked it up. Whoever it had belonged to had taken good care of it. It was made of polished silver and adorned with intricate engravings. She opened it and fingered the grey stone and wedge of steel within. Her grandfather had owned a tinderbox, before he’d died, and once had shown her how to strike a fire from flint and steel. She looked around and spied suitable pieces of dried bark and chunks of old driftwood for tinder. She closed the box and decided to make a campfire to keep warm during the storm.

To her left, Trixie barked and Jenny turned just in time to see her disappear through the dark opening in the back of the cave. “Trixie!” she shouted. “Trixie, come back here!”

Trixie barked again, and the sound echoed strangely through the hole. Jenny stepped to it and peered inside. Little light penetrated the darkness within, but she could make out a bend just ahead. “Trixie!” she yelled, and Trixie’s bark sounded from somewhere close by. Jenny pulled her keys out of the pocket of her windbreaker, fumbling for the mini MagLite that hung from it. Twisting it on, she aimed the light into the hole. The passage was narrow and curved to the right. She stepped inside and followed the bend to where it opened onto a small chamber. Two more corridors extended from it, leading deeper into the cliffs. She called Trixie’s name again, and the dog’s reply came from the left passage. She picked up a stone and marked an arrow on the wall, pointing the way out, and stepped into the left tunnel.

As she walked, she called for Trixie every few seconds, and each time the dog’s bark sounded further away. A large stick lay in the middle of the path and Jenny, not seeing it, stumbled. She twisted her right ankle and fell hard to the ground. Shaken, she lifted herself and pressed on. Her right foot hurt terribly, and she used the wall of the cave for support as she limped along.

When she came to another chamber, with three new paths, Jenny stopped and blew out her breath in a loud sigh. “Oh crap.” She moved to the middle of the chamber and opened her mouth wide. “Trixie! Come! Now!” She could hardly hear the answering bark. “TRIXIE!” she screamed with desperation. This time she was met with silence.

“Shit,” she said, and sat down on a large stone to massage her ankle. She noticed then her torn jeans and the cuts on her hands and knees from the fall. Jenny leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, feeling suddenly very sleepy. She would get up in a few minutes and head back, she thought, figuring the dog would find its own way out. Her head dropped forward, her shoulder-length hair falling around her face in a dark-blond curtain. While she slept, her flashlight dimmed.

A soft sound caused her to jerk awake, and she blinked her eyes into focus. There was movement in the center corridor. She rose, wincing at the pain in her ankle, and pointed the flashlight toward the opening but its flickering light did not carry that far. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she could feel its pulse beating in her neck. She started to turn back the way she had come when a figure emerged from the darkness. Jenny let out a shriek, and the figure held up a hand. He was smiling.

“No need to be frightened. I am here to help,” he said. He wore a pair of brown braes, his legs and feet bare below the knees, and a green jerkin with a blousy, blue linen shirt beneath. His ash-colored hair was gathered in a thong at the nape of his neck. In the palm of one hand he held a curious glowing light.

Across the chamber, Jenny scrutinized him. “I know you,” she said. “I’ve seen you before. On the beach.” She stepped closer in spite of herself. “You look different. Your clothes…”

The stranger chuckled. “Yes. My name is Jared. I come from the other side of these cliffs.”

Jenny frowned. There was little beyond the cliffs but wilderness. Town was a good seven miles down the road, and little lay between it and the shoreline.

Jared smiled again, and walked toward her. “You are hurt.”

Jenny shook her head. “No. It’s not so bad.” She stepped away from him, but pain caused her to cry out and favor her right foot.

Jared approached her carefully, and, taking her arm, eased her onto the rock again. “I can help you.” He knelt to take off the shoe, and eased the sock over the swelling ankle. He closed his eyes and massaged her foot gently, his fingers working mysteriously, artfully. Jenny watched him, studied the set of his mouth curved into a half-smile. His skin was roughened by work and weather, and creases marked the corners of his eyes and mouth. She thought he must laugh a lot. His hands, kneading the tender places of her ankle and foot, were strong and masculine.

“That feels good.”

“I know,” he said. When he was done, he handed Jenny her sock and shoe, and she put them back on. He took firm hold of her hands and she felt a tingling warmth flow through them. When he let go, she looked at them, and her injuries were gone. He did the same to her knee, carefully folding back the fabric to expose the wound there.

“Wow,” she said.

“You should not overtax yourself,” Jared said. “If you injure your ankle again, it could be much worse and simple massage won’t heal it.” He extended his hand toward her. “Come,” he said. “I’ll take you to your dog. I believe you name her Trix?”

“Trixie. How would you know that?”

“You forget. We’ve seen each other before, you and I. Also, you’ve been shouting her name down these tunnels for some time. I could hear you on the other side, even had your dog not found me first.”

“Oh.” Jenny felt her face redden.

Jared chuckled again and returned to the center corridor, motioning her to follow. “Come. I will bring you to her.”

Jenny opened her mouth to protest when her flashlight faded out. Left alone in the darkness, she trotted toward Jared’s retreating figure and the soft glow from the object he held. When she reached him, she asked, “What is that in your hand?”

Jared stopped and, turning, held it out for her to see. “It’s called a glow stone. We find them on the borders of Belnod.”

“Belnod?”

“Yes. Many passageways under these cliffs lead to Belnod. It is not a pleasant place. You are lucky not to have wandered down there. I might not have been able to find you.”

Jenny scratched her head. “I see.”

“Let us continue. We are almost there.”

He led her through a labyrinth of turnings that opened to more chambers, more corridors. Jenny, having lost all sense of direction followed helplessly.

Soon, they climbed a steep incline, and at the end Jenny could see daylight and long prairie grass waving in a breeze. When at last they emerged from the cave, Jared slipped the glow stone into a pouch while Jenny looked around. All was tall grasses and trees, a vast prairie land dotted with clusters of low, thatched huts. A forest lay behind them, where the ocean should have been. The scent of smoke and cooking food reached them, and Jenny’s stomach rumbled loudly. She glanced at Jared, hoping he hadn’t heard. There was a flurry of barking, and Trixie bounded toward them. Jared bent to scratch her behind the ears, and Trixie submitted happily.

“Where are we?”

“We call it Albrowe. We live side-by-side with you, yet few of your people know of us. The only way to get here from your side is through the cliffs. There are two entrances. The first is the one you came through. The second lies on the other side of the cove.”

“My God.” The words parallel universe danced wildly in her mind, but she pushed them away, refusing to believe.

“I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to bring you here again.”

Jenny looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been together before. Long ago.” He reached out to smooth her hair behind an ear. “But I lost you to the Sea On the Other Side. I’ve waited many years for your return.”

Jenny shook her head. “No. You’re mistaken.”

Jared focused on her, sadness and longing filling the space between them. He touched her arm and stepped toward her, bringing their bodies close together. He cupped her face in his other hand, and Jenny tilted her head deeper into his touch. It was an instinctive movement, one she made without thought. “I am not mistaken,” Jared whispered.

Jenny stood, transfixed by Jared’s gaze and soothing presence. When she finally broke his stare, she shook her head, confused. “No. No.” She looked toward the tunnel from which they had emerged. Grass obscured it and there was little but a half-shadow to indicate its existence. “I need to go back.”

Jared nodded and let go of her. “Of course.” He reached into the pouch that hung from his leather belt and pulled out an object. “But first I want you to have this. It has belonged to you before.”

Jenny reached for the object and gasped. She’d never seen it before, yet it was strikingly familiar. It was a heavy silver ring, set with a large, round blue stone and surrounded by seven small, opal-like stones. They caught the blue of the center stone and swirled the color around from one opal to the next, mixing with yellows and greens, a touch of purple, and even red. Jenny slipped it on the first finger of her right hand. It was stunning. Perfect.

“That is where you always wore it. It is our binding ring.”

“Our binding--?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “We are bound to one another.”

Jenny swallowed and pulled the ring from her finger. “I can’t accept this,” she said, holding it out to him. “There’s some kid of misunderstanding.”

“It is yours.”

“But I can’t--”

“It is yours,” he said firmly and closed her hand over the ring.

Jenny swallowed. “Okay,” she said softly.

“I will show you the way back to the other side.” He walked toward the opening in the hill, Trixie leading the way. His long strides parted the grass and Jenny followed. In silence they wound through the maze of narrow passages, lit by the soft glow of Jared’s glow stone.

When they returned to the beach side of the cave, Jared passed through the opening that led to the cave’s entrance and reached for Jenny’s hand. She hesitated, then took it and stepped over the threshold. She looked up at him and their eyes locked. Jenny experienced a fleeting moment of recognition, and then it was gone. She gazed at Jared curiously.

Outside, the storm still raged. Waves pummeled the shore and sent spray high into the air. Wind drove rain into the mouth of the cave. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed. But inside they were safe. They hovered near the rear wall while Jared used his glow stone to build a small fire from the tinder and driftwood stockpiled in the corner. “I always make sure there is a supply of wood here. Not for myself, but others of your kind have needed shelter and warmth, and now I am glad it is here.”

“This tinder box is yours?” Jenny asked, fingering the swirling grooves on its surface.

“Yes.”

They sat next to the fire and listened to the storm in silence. Jared murmured a few words and Jenny grew sleepy, eyelids drooping until she could no longer keep them open. Jared rose and settled himself behind her, coaxing her to lean back and take comfort from him. She did, though she could not explain why she felt so at ease with this man. She still held the ring, and Jared opened her fingers to take it from her palm. Silently, he slipped it over her right index finger, and as he did, Jenny drifted to sleep.

When she awoke the next morning, the storm had blown itself out. The sun was breaking over the horizon, and in the distance Jenny heard the gentle hush of waves at low tide. Trixie lay at the mouth of the cave, licking her coat clean. Jenny sat up and stretched the sleep out of her bones. What strange dreams she’d had. When she rose, however, she noticed the charred remains of a campfire. Maybe someone else had gotten stuck in the rain and had moved on after it passed. She didn’t like to think anyone had shared her shelter while she slept, but there was nothing to be done about it. Shrugging it off, Jenny joined her dog, and sat dangling her feet over the edge of the hollow. She took a deep breath and smiled into the sunrise. It would be a wonderful day, she knew. Turning to Trixie, she said, “How are you this morning, girly-girl?”

Trixie looked at her owner and whined, licking her face.

Jenny laughed. “Yes, we’ll go home soon,” she said. As she reached out to pet Trixie, she stopped, hand in midair, heart leapfrogging in her stomach. On the index finger of her right hand she wore a heavy silver ring, set with a large blue stone surrounded by seven small opals. It caught the thin light of morning, sparkling as if it belonged there on her hand.

Near the shore, the beachcomber appeared, and waited.