Eldritch Beach
My last @kyluxshortshorts short. Zimmalley and Clydeland
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Humans were permitted to visit Eldritch Beach provided that they abided by the rules. Place litter and recycling in their respective bins, no tobacco or drugs or weapons, keep open alcohol containers covered, and swim at your own risk when the lifeguards are off duty. Standard for any strip of shore, only Eldritch Beach enforced the added rule against harassment of the very creatures for whom this haven by the sea was created.
Bully one over a patch of sand, and a giant horror snaked out multiple tendrils to wrap around your limbs and toss you into the parking lot.
Despite his less than stellar record as a respectable citizen, Gabe O’Malley behaved at every visit, and saw to it that his son respected the rules. Not that he ever worried about Stensland, who personified good manners. They both loved the beach, too, and on this sunny holiday from school intended to make the most of their free time.
Relaxed in a beach chair atop a large blanket, slathered in sunscreen and wearing a bucket hat for added protection, Gabe attempted to focus on the book splayed on his lap. Gentle breezes and the hush of waves crashing the distance presented too comforting a backdrop, however, and gradually the temptation of a nap conquered his consciousness. Adjusting his sunglasses, Gabe closed his eyes and basked in the sun. He didn’t worry about Stensland, parked a few feet away with his bucket and other beach toys. The boy knew not to swim without an adult.
Gabe hadn’t expected his son to wake him with an unusual beach souvenir.
“Lookit, Da.”
Gabe cracked open one eye, then raised his sunglasses. Stensland held out his bucket, filled with an inky black substance. He watched as it rippled like water, and for a moment Gabe suspected an oil spill… until the “oil” blinked open two eyes and stared at him.
Oh, dear. Gabe sat up. Had his son committed his first kidnapping? “Stens,” he said, “please explain.”
Instead, the being in the bucket released a long, thick tendril for Gabe to shake. Gabe let the creature wrap around his hand and wrist. He was familiar with this sort of creature, which communicated with humans via touch.
“Hello. What’s your name?”
Clyde Logan, sir. I’m seven.
Same age as Stens. How nice that his boy had made a new friend. “It’s nice to meet you, Clyde,” Gabe said, all the while scanning the beach for anyone resembling the creature. He was keen enough to discern the emotions of those not humans. “If you don’t mind my asking, did you come alone?”
No, my folks are over there. Clyde let go of Gabe’s hand to gesture his tendril toward a large beach umbrella. A larger black being, contained within the fabric of a wood-framed sling chair, rested underneath while an adult man in blue trunks sprayed on sunscreen. He caught sight of Gabe staring and waved.
“Clyde and me are going to look for shells,” Stens said.
“Fine, so long as you stay within sight of us and you don’t go into the water.”
Smiling, Stens grabbed a free bucket and hauled Clyde in the other toward the damp sand at low tide. Gabe lay back in his chair, intent on reading the book on his lap in between long blinks, but the two boys at the waves’ edge captured his attention. Stens didn’t make friends easily, and to see him laugh along as his new friend juggled shells within his black curves gave him hope that his son might come out of his…
“Shell.” He had to laugh.
Close to dinnertime, he called a reluctant Stens back to base to prepare for the ride home. He expected resistance, but was surprised when his son shook the sand from his toys and towel without complaint.
“Clyde says they’re coming back Saturday morning, Da. Can we?”
“I think so.” Too soon to commit yet. Gabe assumed Stens behaved as a means to coax a yes from him. Clever boy. He noticed the Logans across the way, breaking down their equipment with no argument from their little one. Perhaps they ought to all hang out together next time. They were fairly new to the area and had yet to socialize.
Gabe pondered the possibilities on the drive home, and while preparing dinner as Stens showered and changed. He was about to drain the pasta when he heard the front door shut.
“In here,” he called, focus still on dinner. He moved to the sink with the steaming pot and colander, careful not to burn himself as he poured hot water down the drain.
A shadow crept up from behind, and Gabe watched the lights dim from his peripheral vision. Two black tendrils, thick as his own arms and twice as long, wrapped around his waist as a large solid mass pressed against his back.
Have a good day? asked his husband.
Gabe tilted his head to one side, allowing part of Flip to slide down his neck in a soft kiss. “More than that. Stens loved the beach. He made a new friend, and I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of them.”
Nice. What are they like?
Gabe set the pasta side and turned around in Flip’s embrace. No eyes gaze back, but it didn’t mean Flip wasn’t looking with affection. “Let’s just say,” Gabe said, sliding his arms around Flip, “he definitely takes after his old man.”
