The Tides Leave Us

Chapter One "The Silent Shore"- Part 1

Chapter One “The Silent Shore”


The sea still moved, but it no longer breathed. Nothing lived on the shore anymore — not the kelp, not the crabs, not even the songs. What kelp was spit upon the rocky shores stank, mired with a foul sludge. In many ways, the sea itself was a cruel mockery, always in motion, but no longer alive. And the woman that walked that coastline- she walked alone. Her gaze cast outwards towards the froth of the waves, tainted and sickly green with algae and roiling with waste. A wrecked sailing vessel rotted on the sands ahead of her, it’s hull split open and spilling intestines of detritus.

Every day was the same- she mused. She watched and waited for some sign of others. Oh, she wasn’t alone. People dwelled in the coastal community set back from the shore. Huge swaths had sunk beneath the tides, as the oceans rising sank the condos and boardwalk, and with it, the town’s tourism. The wind lifted her dark braid off of her back, and she grasped it irritably. She really missed the days when she could wear it loose, but it was simply too dangerous. Chemicals and smoke would catch and cause her scalp and skin to become irritated and break out in a rash. Even now, she wore a bandana wrapped around her hair to protect from the winds. Long ago, the sea had not been able to harm her, at least not in any way that mattered. She reached up to rub her eyes and stared at the skin that webbed halfway up her fingers to the bottom knuckle, the dark claws ending her fingertips.

She reached her hand out towards the sea and hummed softly. Aisling had not sung to the sea in decades, and could not bear the heartbreak of it not mirroring her song now. So she called her people. She hummed the song of the sea, hoping against hope that someone would sing back. Her hand fell in frustration.
She was selkie.
She was the last.
Aisling snorted to herself.
How dramatic.

Long ago, she had seen The Last Unicorn on an old TV set. She hadn't understood it then — why would the unicorns ever leave the sea? All she had ever wanted was to return to it.
But the oceans grew acidic. The heat killed the fish.
The minds of her people, once sharp and keen, grew fuzzy and confused.
Still they refused to abandon the waves.
They would rather wither and die in the ocean than become refugees among the world of men.
So they weakened.
Pods she once watched darting among kelp forests diminished.
The sea stars melted into nothing.
All devoured by purple urchins that spread like a plague and gorged on all that was green.
Her home vanished- deforested beneath the waves.
At that moment, she had taken her skin and emerged from the waves…permanently. Aisling had a family once, but they had never followed. Every day, she returned and called out to them begging for an answer. None came.
She turned and headed up the rocks, clambering upwards, pulling up her waders as she did so. The rising tides had destroyed much of the dunes leading down to shore, so she had to watch where she stepped as she headed back towards town.
The town clung stubbornly to the crumbling coast, a half-ghost of what it once had been. Shattered sidewalks weaved between buildings stained with salt and time. Old murals peeled off brick walls, smiling cartoon dolphins and sun-bleached whales, their painted eyes cracked and fading.
Aisling’s feet splashed through puddles of brackish water left by the morning tides, the flooded alleys already steaming in the sun.
She remembered when this place had been bright and loud — ice cream stands and fish shacks and boardwalk games — a place where tourists lined the streets, their laughter chasing the gulls.
Now, only those too poor to leave remained, piecing together lives among the ruins.
“Ash. ASH!” A voice cried as she left the flooded alleys of the city behind and approached where many of the people had moved trying to still eke out a living on the damaged coast. Aisling pretended not to hear, smirking slightly. A pair of feet slapped the pavement rapidly behind her.
“ASH!”

Aisling spun. “WHAT?” She yelled, waggling her eyebrows comically. A small girl skidded to a stop in front of her, hesitating. Seeing Aisling was joking, she giggled.
“Did you find anything today?”
Still smiling, Aisling turned and continued up the street, knowing the little patter of feet would follow.
“I didn’t go looking for stuff today.”
The girl huffed. “Then why even go? I don’t get it. It stinks down there!”
“Maybe,” Aisling said. “It’s because it’s QUIET, and little girls aren’t bothering me all the time.”
“Hey, I ain’t little!”
“Ain’t? Are you Southern now?”
“No, are YOU?”
“Rylee!” Aisling turned and poked the little girl in the belly. “Where is your mom? Aren’t you supposed to be helping her out today anyways?”
Her mom ran the store up the street where Aisling got her groceries. She was kidding, but she grew worried when Rylee frowned.
“The- um- the shipment didn’t come in today.” The weekly food deliveries, partially bought by Rylee’s mother, partially from government assistance was the backbone of the community.
Aisling almost turned- self preservation sending her to the store to buy everything before anyone else could get their sticky paws on what was left. But she didn’t want to worry Rylee.
“Did your mom say why it hadn’t arrived? It could just be running late!” Some small part of her didn’t want to leave this child to worry. She crouched to look into Rylee’s blue eyes.
Rylee licked her lips, chapped from the salty air. “I don’t think so. She was…crying when I left.”
Aisling felt a flicker of anger. “If your mom was crying, why would you leave?”
“She told me to! And that’s NONE of your business!” Now Rylee’s eyes were welling with tears. “Maybe if you could fix this place like you said you would, we wouldn’t be here.”

“I said I would TRY, Rylee.” Aisling stated patiently.

It was a lie. She hadn’t the faintest idea where to even begin. In some ways, she didn’t want to. It wasn’t like any of this was her fault.

“Try HARDER.”

Rylee spun on her heel, storming away as children often do. Aisling wavered- before she turned to head up to the street to the store. Her foot caught on a crack in the eroding sidewalk, and she cursed as she stumbled.

The store (need good name) had been in the town for decades- passed down through Rylee’s family. Rylee’s mom had the girl as a teen, and when the rest of her family had left, it wasn’t like she could afford to go. And it wasn’t in her to abandon a family legacy. The exterior of the building had seen better days, salt weathered brick greyed in the sun.

The bell above the door gave a jingle as Aisling stepped into the store. The shelves were half-stocked—if that. Dust settled thick on canned goods that had expired a year ago, and the produce bin sat empty, save for one bruised apple turning in on itself. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like gnats.
Behind the counter, Marla — Rylee’s mom — stood with a clipboard and a pen that tapped a slow, frantic rhythm against the paper. (Extra description of Marla, here).

Her face lit up at the sight of Aisling, but the light dimmed just as quickly.
“You heard?” Marla said.
“I heard… there wasn’t anything,” Aisling said carefully.
Marla put the clipboard down and rubbed her temples. “No shipment. No credits. No aid. Not this week. Not next week. Not ever again, according to the message I got.”
Aisling blinked. “You’re kidding.”
Marla didn’t laugh.
“They’re cutting funding,” she said flatly. “Redirecting it. Inland, most likely. Or to defense. Or to cities that matter.” Her mouth twisted bitterly.
“So… we’re on our own now,” Aisling said.
Marla’s smile was paper-thin. “We always were.”
A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the hum of the cooler and the creak of the floorboards beneath Aisling’s shifting feet.
“What are we supposed to do?” she asked.
Marla gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Figure it out. That’s the motto around here now.”
Then, from outside, came the sharp slam of a truck door.
Aisling’s head turned toward the sound. Through the smudged window, a tall figure stepped out of a rust-spotted, sea-stained utility truck. Broad-shouldered, dark hair tied back at the nape, his gait slow but sure.
He reached into the bed of the truck, pulling out a canvas-wrapped bundle of gear.
Aisling stared.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
Marla leaned over to look. “Him? No idea. He just rolled in this morning asking questions about the shore. Said he was here to help.”
Aisling narrowed her eyes.
Help, she thought.
The last time someone had said that, her whole world had fallen apart.
Still, she had more important matters. She looked away, back towards the counter.
“Are you going to be raising prices?” Aisling asked anxiously. Marla laughed.
“I feel I’d be run out of town at this point!”
“Right,” she confirmed. Aisling wouldn’t say it, but she honestly was still selkie enough, still bloodthirsty enough, to take what she needed. A lack of funds wasn’t going to stop her. She hid that wildness behind her eyes before reaching out to grab a basket. Canned green beans it was.
“Oh!” Here she felt a twinge of guilt. “Um..I ran into Rylee outside. She told me what was happening. I may have upset her.” Marla sighed and shrugged. She leaned on the counter, watching the newcomer through the window.
“It’s hard for her, you know,” Marla said softly. “It’s not like there’s any other kids around here now. She gets lonely. Just give her some time.” She tapped her lips with the tip of her finger absently. “I don’t know how I’d do it, but maybe it IS time to think of leaving. Just, pack up all the food into boxes, load up the van, and drive as far as we can. I know there’s a place for us somewhere.”
Aisling squeezed the can of green beans, denting it with her strength. She had thought that once, too.
“Let’s not be hasty about this.” She began to fill her basket, heading towards the cooler to grab what perishable items were left. Her heart shuddered behind her breastbone. There were so few left in town, she didn’t want to lose anyone else. Aisling browsed down each aisle, the basket slung over the crook over her elbow.
Dust coated the bottom empty shelves, but Marla stocked everything at eye level, so you could see the imprint of once full wares. Aisling bent and peered between some cans before reaching back towards the interior. Sometimes, people liked to hide goodies amongst the expired items, hoping to come back and purchase it later- when times were less lean. Her fingertips brushed the crinkling plastic of a bag of potato chips.
“Yessss,” she hissed, pulling it out and dropping it into her basket, carefully on top of the heavy items. Some things were impossible to get, and junk food was one of those. Eggs were another.
She was just pulling some ground beef out of the freezer when the shop bell rang again and then again. She heard the quiet murmur at the front of the shop, Marla’s reassuring tones. The selkie straightened, standing on her tip toes to find a few elderly women entering the shop, worry creasing deeper the lines on their faces. Sounds like more people had heard. More voices. More desperation. Word had gotten out, and the town’s slow unraveling had just sped up. Aisling hurried through the rest of the store, managing to snag an old forgotten bag of stale peanut M&M’s before making her way to the checkout.
One of the ladies, a shawl draped over her shoulders and knotted against her chest was holding up the line.
“So you’ll stay open?” She heard the woman demand.
“Of course, Miss Lena,” Marla soothed. Her hands motioned for Aisling to start stacking her items on the counter. “We aren’t going anywhere. In fact, give us a few days and maybe we will have some fresh stock in. This is just a little hiccup in the supply trains. Nothing really comes through that port anymore.”
Miss Lena nodded, dropping her gaze towards the bag of chips Aisling had placed on the counter. She tensed, as though to pick up the plastic, but Aisling reached out, catching her wrist.
“Excuse me,” she murmured. “Are you waiting in line?”
Aisling’s fingers were too cold, too strong, and Miss Lena flinched as though touched by something not quite human. She jerked her wrist out of Aisling’s grasp. Wincing, the woman wrapped her hand around the base of her palm.
“Excuse YOU,” she scowled. “WE were having a conversation!” She rubbed her wrist. “You scratched me!” Her eyes were accusatory. Aisling bared her teeth.
“I apologize.”
Marla cleared her throat and began scanning the items.
“Well, that’s all I can tell you, Miss Lena. You can take a look at what we have now or check back in a few days. But, you can’t hold up my line and keep my customers waiting.” Marla’s eyes went steely. Miss Lena jerked her nose up in the air, stepping back away from the counter.
“If this wasn’t the only place to shop-”
“Yes, yes-” Aisling interrupted, unwilling to let Marla deal with the woman further. “You’d sure show her and never buy anything from here again. Now why don’t you do us a favor and hurry up with making yourself scarce!” She stepped in front of the old biddy, hip checking her out of the way. She’d never believed being old gave you a right to act rude, and she was older than Miss Lena anyways, even if she would never look it.
Marla scanned the chips with a raised brow. ‘You found these?’”
Aisling smirked. ‘Treasure hunting is a skill.’
Her back to the woman, she gave Marla a wink as she pulled out her wallet from the pocket of her waders. Marla smirked and gave her the total and putting the items into a dingy canvas tote bag. Totes were stable, reusable, and she knew Aisling would bring it back. Aisling didn’t say goodbye, just waving as she slung the canvas tote on her shoulder, pulled the door- jingling the bell, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. While she’d been inside, an old fisherman had set up a post outside, sitting on an old crate.
“Seal-girl!” He called. Aisling smiled. He was the only one who knew enough to call her that.
“Calder,” she greeted. His face was weathered, and tanned, deep canyons of time grooved into his face. As he grinned, his teeth sparkled white. How on earth does he keep them looking like that? She briefly mused. His weathered hand clapped heavily onto her shoulder, pulling her into his side for a hug. As he did so, he leaned over and peered into her canvas tote. She laughed and slapped his arm before pulling away.
“This is my stuff, old man!” His eyes shined, a stormy grey, dimmed by cataracts.
“Ash, you know I’ll fight you for it.”
“And I’d beat you off with a stick!” Aisling raised her fists in mock fury, balancing on her toes. She remembered when Calder had been a little boy, before the waters rose. The child had seen her enter the sea, often following on her heels as Rylee had. On moonlight nights, they’d danced on sandy dunes to the beat of the pounding sea. He’d been taught the trade of fishing sustainably, born from a long line of sailors. Her heart warmed at the thought, and on days like today, he still seemed like that young child.
Even more so, he had seen her emerge from the water that last time, never to return to the waves. He had seen her grief in the years that followed. He understood.
As Aisling was briefly lost in her memories, Calder’s gaze drifted over her shoulder to Holloway’s Supply Co. He lifted his chin.
“Is it true what they’re saying? I heard Marla tell that they weren’t planning on sending in any more deliveries.”
Aisling’s lips thinned.
“I mean, yes.” She muttered. “But that’s only government supplies. We will still have whatever Marla can purchase, whatever we can salvage. Worst case scenario- we’ll just have to send someone to drive and bring stuff back from the next town over every couple of weeks.”
“That’s if THEY have anything.” He responded, raising an eyebrow. Aisling shrugged.
“It’s either that or give up, Calder. And we don’t have a choice.”
Calder stood up, groaning and leaning backwards to crack his back. “Beans it is then,” he groaned. They stood there for a moment in companionable silence, Calder fiddling with the stray threads of his shirt, the selkie shifting her weight as she turned to gaze out at the sliver of the ocean she could see at the base of the hill.