Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Rose

A s I start my coffee machine, I gently prod the bandage behind my ear. I want to believe yesterday was just a strange dream, but the dull ache in my head and the bandage Levi applied are tangible reminders that it was all too real.

Stretching, I make my way to the back deck, coffee in hand. The harbor is peaceful this early. The water is like a sheet of glass, reflecting the soft morning light. I sink into the cushions of the outdoor couch where I’d napped yesterday, setting my coffee on the side table, ready to savor the quiet morning. My eyes drift to Levi’s houseboat, hoping to catch a glimpse of him when something else catches my eye.

There, propped against the railing, is my waterproof bag – the one I was sure had been lost to the ocean.

I rush over, my coffee forgotten on the small table. With trembling hands, I open the bag, hardly daring to hope. All my belongings, including my phone and camera, are completely dry and seemingly unharmed. A relieved laugh, bordering on hysteria, escapes me.

Another impossible sight greets me as I straighten, clutching my recovered possessions. The paddle – the one that had been torn from my grasp by the storm – is now neatly strapped to the kayak.

My mind reels. There’s only one explanation. My mysterious rescuer must have returned these items during the night. But as I process this, I’m struck by an even more astounding realization. My kraken didn’t just bring my things back – it brought them to the correct houseboat in the right marina. It remembered where I live and understood I’d want my belongings back.

That speaks of an intelligence and empathy that outstrips many humans I know. The creature understood that I would want my things, that they held value to me, and made an effort to retrieve them. These actions show a depth of understanding and compassion that leaves me staggering.

I rush to the railing, leaning over as far as I dare, my eyes scanning the water for any sign of the creature. But the harbor reveals nothing other than my reflection, wide-eyed and disheveled, staring back at me from the calm surface. My thoughts are a whirlwind of questions and wonder. Just how intelligent is this creature? And what else might it be capable of understanding?

The sudden ringing of my phone nearly startles me out of my skin. In my surprise, I fumble with it, almost dropping it into the water. Heather’s name flashes on the screen. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I answer the call.

“Finally!” Heather’s voice bursts through the speaker. “You haven’t been answering my texts or calls. I was about to send out the cavalry!”

“I’m so sorry,” I say, glancing around again for any sign of my mysterious benefactor. Seeing nothing, I head inside to continue the conversation. “I accidentally left my phone in my bag and didn’t realize I’d forgotten it until this morning.”

It’s not technically a lie, I tell myself.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” Heather says, the relief evident in her voice. “So, how’s the vacation going? Tell me about the town. What’s it like? Are you having fun exploring?”

For a moment, I’m tempted to tell her everything. If anyone would believe me about the kraken, it would be Heather. She’s always been open to the extraordinary and the unexplainable. But as I open my mouth to speak, I hesitate. The creature’s existence feels like a secret that isn’t mine to share. Whatever saved me probably values its privacy. It returned my belongings under the cover of night. And perhaps that’s wise. Humanity doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to dealing with unusual creatures. Our history is littered with examples of exploitation, fear, and destruction when faced with the unknown. By staying hidden, the kraken is protecting itself from the genuine threat that human curiosity and greed might pose. As much as I long to share this incredible secret, I realize that keeping silent might be the best way to repay the kindness it showed me.

“It’s been amazing,” I say instead – not a lie, I tell myself again. “You’d love it here! It’s this adorable little coastal town. It’s super quaint and has so much character. The locals are… unique. Everyone’s got their quirks, but they’re all so welcoming. I went to this wonderful clam bake the other night. I got to meet a bunch of interesting people. And the local shops are so cute – you’d love them. Oh, and Levi took me on a deep-sea fishing trip. I caught a huge fish, and Conall cooked it for me at the clam bake.”

“Conall?” Heather asks, curiosity and playful innuendo vying for dominance in her voice.

I chuckle, shaking my head at her tone. “He’s this great bear of a man who looks like he just walked out of the woods. You should have seen him and Levi arguing over who got to control the grill.”

“Typical men,” she says, making me giggle. I know she is rolling her eyes by the tone of her voice. “Did Conall click his grill tongs?”

“Of course he did!”

We both cackle like a bunch of hyenas.

“Sooooo,” Heather says, making the word three syllables long, “is this Conall hot?”

“He’s… attractive, yeah. But he could use a bit of grooming to reach his full potential.”

Heather hums thoughtfully over the line. “Is he as hot as your neighbor?”

“Heather!” I protest.

“Oh, come on! I need to know!”

I sigh in defeat. “Fine. No, he isn’t as hot as Levi. Happy now?”

“I will be once you make your move. I have some suggestions on how to catch his attention.”

“Oh, I bet you do.” I’m about to remind her about the strip poker incident from college when she cuts in.

“So, have you ridden anything besides waves since you got to Lublin Harbor?”

I huff at the innuendo, feeling my cheeks warm. “No, I have not.”

“Seriously… you should try out that hottie on the houseboat next door? What was his name again?”

“Levi. And, no, I haven’t,” I say firmly, though I can feel my face getting even warmer.

“Wait!” Heather screeches, making me pull my phone away from my ear with a grimace. “Isn’t Levi the name of your tour guide? When you said tour guide, I pictured some nerdy guy with glasses and dad jokes, not a hottie! You are so lucky. Why didn’t you tell me? You gotta get on that.”

“Yes, Levi is my tour guide. So, I’m not going to hook up with him.”

“He can be both, you know. A little holiday romance never hurt anyone.”

I hesitate, my mind briefly flashing to Levi’s kind eyes and gentle hands as he bandaged my cut. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. If it goes badly, I’m stuck with him for the rest of the trip. Plus, I’m not in town for long.”

“Who cares?” Heather counters. “Have a fling. You deserve some fun, Rose. When was the last time you let loose a little?”

I bite my lip, considering her words. It has been a while since I’ve had any sort of romantic entanglement. And there is something undeniably attractive about Levi… “Maybe,” I say finally. “I’ll think about it. But enough about that. Tell me what’s been happening at home.”

As Heather launches into a story about her latest dating disaster, I find my mind wandering. Could I have a fling with Levi? Should I? The idea is tempting but also terrifying. And with everything else going on – the mystery of the creature in the harbor – do I really want to complicate things further?

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Heather asks.

I pick up the itinerary from the small kitchen table where I’d dropped it on my first day here, scanning it. “Looks like I’m visiting a tide pool and – oh yay! We’re finally taking a guided tour of the lighthouse. I drove out there yesterday but could only explore the outside since it was closed to visitors.” I launch into a detailed description of the lighthouse – leaving out my ill-fated kayak trip. Levi’s worried words about going out alone are still fresh in my mind, and I’ve learned my lesson – no need to give Heather an excuse to pile on too.

“Ooh, that sounds perfect! You’ll finally get to see the inside of the lighthouse that inspired your tattoo and this whole trip.”

“I know! I’m excited about it,” I say, and I mean it. Despite everything that’s happened, the lighthouse still holds a special place in my heart. It represents something more than just a beautiful structure – it’s a symbol of adventure, of stepping out of my comfort zone.

“It sounds wonderful,” Heather says. “But you know what? I miss you. And Purl’s been rejecting her treats because she’s so sad.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. “Now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. No matter how sad she is, Purl will never pass up a treat.”

“Okay, you got me there. But she does miss you. We both do.”

“I miss you guys too.”

Heather needs to open her shop, so we say our goodbyes. I grab a fresh cup of coffee and watch the morning unfold. The harbor hums with activity now – fishermen loading their boats with gear, the distant drone of engines warming up, dock carts rattling with supplies. A few early sailors check their rigging while weekend cruisers scrub their decks. Above it all, seagulls wheel and cry, hoping for an easy breakfast from the bait buckets below.

My eyes are drawn once again to the waterproof bag and the paddle. Tangible proof that yesterday wasn’t a dream, that somewhere out there is a creature beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. A creature that not only saved my life but cared enough to return my belongings.

With a sense of anticipation, I head back inside to get ready for the day. The tide pools and lighthouse await, and who knows what wonders they might reveal? In a place where krakens rescue stranded kayakers, anything seems possible.

As I dress, my fingers trace the outline of the lighthouse tattoo on my arm. I smile to myself, still hardly believing I’m finally going to step foot inside it. I’ve lived with this image inked on my skin for years, dreaming of seeing the real thing. Now it’s just hours away, and my stomach flutters with anticipation.

I grab my recovered camera, excited to document the day ahead. As I do, a thought strikes me. What if I managed to capture something on camera yesterday during the storm?

I turn on my camera and scroll through the images with trembling fingers. Most are what I expected – shots of the harbor, the town, and the lighthouse in the distance. When I reach the final photos I took as the storm rolled in, they’re mostly blurry, but the storm’s chaos is evident in every frame. I squint, bringing the camera closer to my face, searching for any sign of the creature. But there’s nothing – just rain and waves.

I feel a mix of relief and disappointment. Part of me had hoped for tangible proof of my encounter, while another part is glad there’s nothing that could potentially expose the creature’s existence. Sighing, I power off the camera and tuck it safely into my bag.

Heading out and locking my door, I see Levi exiting his houseboat at the same time. He spots me and waves, calling out, “Morning, Rose! Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Yes, I have,” I reply, smiling.

“Great! How about we head out to the tide pools?” Levi suggests. “Are you wearing closed-toe shoes with good traction? It can get slippery on the rocks.”

In response, I lift my leg, showing off my tennis shoes. Levi chuckles at the gesture.

“Perfect,” he says. “You might want to pack an extra pair, though. Your shoes will probably get wet, so make sure you’re okay with that.”

After grabbing a spare set of shoes and socks, I join Levi in his truck. As we pass through the town center, I spot Lily and Koko outside the hardware store. They are chatting over a shopping list and looking excited about whatever they’re working on. Levi taps the horn lightly, and they look up, beaming and waving as we drive by.

“Oh my,” I say, noticing an elderly woman spinning slowly in front of the post office, her arms outstretched and eyes closed. “Is she okay?”

Levi chuckles warmly. “That’s Mrs. Peterson. She claims she’s a Vila – a Slavic fairy who controls the weather. Says she must dance each morning to keep the winds favorable.” He shakes his head fondly. “She’s harmless, just loves the old stories a bit too much, I think. Though I will say, she’s surprisingly accurate with her weather predictions.”

As Levi drives, the town thins out behind us. Weathered storefronts give way to wild meadows and dense pine forests, and the road curves closer to the coast. Through the trees, I catch glimpses of the steel-blue ocean.

Levi pulls into an empty roadside dirt parking lot with only one other car. “It’s usually pretty quiet out here on weekdays,” he explains. “Most people are at work.”

We make our way down to the rocky shore, the salty sea breeze whipping through my hair. Above us, seagulls circle against a soft blue sky, their cries echoing off the cliffs. The coastline takes my breath away – massive rocks thrust up from the shore like broken teeth, their jagged surfaces dark against the foam-white surf. Waves crash against the stone in an endless rhythm, sending up plumes of spray that catch the morning light. It’s beautiful in a wild, untamed way, so different from the sunbaked deserts and mesas of New Mexico.

The receding tide has revealed a vast expanse of tide pools, each a microcosm of marine life. The air is thick with the pungent smell of exposed seaweed and the mineral scent of wet rocks. I step carefully, mindful of the slippery surfaces covered in a patchwork of greens and browns – slick seaweed, fuzzy algae, and sharp barnacles. Levi hovers close by, his presence reassuring as I navigate this treacherous but beautiful terrain.

Each step brings new discoveries, and I’m immediately captivated by the miniature worlds contained in each pool. The water in these natural aquariums is crystal clear, allowing me to peer into their depths.

Tiny silver fish, no longer than my pinky finger, dart around in frantic circles, trapped by the low tide in their temporary prisons. Their scales catch the sunlight, creating fleeting flashes of brilliance. Starfish in an array of colors – deep purples, bright oranges, and mottled reds– cling to the rocks, their arms stretched out languidly as if basking in the sun’s warmth.

Levi points out sea urchins nestled in crevices, their spines moving gently in the shallow water like an underwater forest swaying in a breeze.

The air is cool against my skin, but I barely notice. I am too engrossed in the vibrant life teeming in these small pockets of water.

I glance at Levi, watching how naturally he moves across the jagged rocks, his face lit with quiet joy. He’s so clearly in his element here, pointing out tiny wonders in each pool with the enthusiasm of someone who never tires of the ocean’s secrets. As I carefully make my way from pool to pool, I feel caught between watching the sea life and watching him – the way he seems to come alive here, as much a part of this coast as the tide itself.

As I lean in to get a closer look at a particularly vibrant starfish, Levi suddenly gets excited. “Oh, look!” he exclaims. “You’re going to like this. Wait here and let me see if I can catch it.”

He wades into one of the larger tide pools, the water reaching just above his knees. Slowly, he lowers his hand into the water, swishing it gently back and forth while making a soft clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth.

After a moment, he straightens up with a triumphant grin, carefully wading back to where I stand. In his open palm is a small octopus, its tentacles curling around his fingers.

The tiny creature immediately makes me think of the kraken although this octopus is barely the size of Levi’s hand. I can’t help but marvel at how it moves – its tentacles curling with the same fluid grace I remember from my rescue.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” I coo, leaning in for a closer look.

Levi beams, clearly pleased by my reaction. “Octopuses are fascinating creatures,” he says, launching into an impromptu lecture. “Did you know they have three hearts and blue blood? And they’re incredibly intelligent – they can solve puzzles and even use tools.”

“How big can they get?” I ask, watching the small creature’s tentacles curl around his fingers.

“The Giant Pacific Octopus can grow up to 16 feet across and weigh up to 110 pounds, but most of the ones around here are much smaller.”

Well then – not an octopus. The creature that saved me yesterday was possibly bigger than my houseboat .

I listen, fascinated, as Levi continues to share facts about octopuses. The whole time, the tiny creature explores his hand, its tentacles probing curiously.

“Would you like to hold it?” Levi offers.

My heart leaps at the opportunity. “Yes, please!”

Carefully, Levi transfers the octopus to my outstretched hands. Its tentacles are cool and slightly slimy but not unpleasant. I can feel the gentle suction of its suckers as it investigates my skin.

As I stand there, marveling at this tiny wonder, I can’t help but think of its larger counterpart somewhere out in the open sea.