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ADDING ANOTHER PIECE of driftwood to the fire, I poke at the mound of woven timber that crackles as tiny pieces of burning red cinder float into the evening atmosphere.
This was my idea. Shelley tried to kiss me the second she saw me in the water, but I couldn’t allow it, not without telling her the truth first. Per the arrangement with the sea witch, I have to confess everything to Shelley and I need to do it before the sheriff wakes up and tries to take at least one of us off to jail.
Yanka was able to revive the sheriff and Doc says he’ll be okay, which is great news, but I’m sure the lawman will be looking to hang someone for all his misfortune and humiliation.
As Lenora stated, if Shelley forgives me, she and I will be able to live out our days together as human beings; if not, I will be cursed to the sea for all time, minus the gifts Poseidon bestowed me.
Shelley’s upset and indifferent towards me because I ignored her advances. She even tried to hold my hand as the deputy drove us back to the beach house and she almost kissed me when she helped me learn to use the zipper on these denim pants, which are sewn together by rivets and are rather too tight and stiff to be comfortable. I do like the many pockets, which must be the only reason they are so popular and I enjoyed when she stuck her finger in one of my pockets.
“Talk to me,” she said, but I couldn’t. I just wanted to enjoy her company, at least for a few hours before the truth about her parents is revealed and she will likely leave me.
I could take her right now. She wants me and, by the gods, I want her, too. She’s as in love with me now with legs and a voice as she was on the beach the first time we made love and I was only half human. She has not questioned my transformation, so I’ve chosen to do right by her. I’ve elected not to take her so she will not be disappointed to have given herself up to the murderer she suspects I am. Instead, I suggested we sit together so I may profess my sins, receive my punishment, and release her from the pain she’s been carrying of never knowing what happened to the pieces of her that were lost at sea—her parents.
Thus, here we are beneath the stars and cloudless sky on a blanket on the sand next to a warm fire.
“You know what happened to them,” she says. “Tell me.”
I throw the stick in my hand into the fire and scoot back next to her. Glancing at her one more time, her face is full of determination and wonder, just as it was the first time I saw her ready to brave a mountain and not more than a day ago when I took her beneath the ocean. Her green eyes are like emeralds in the light of the fire and her hair glows red. The second I speak, I know that gem of a face might forever become lost to me.
“Tell me,” she says again.
“I killed your father. He was as mad as your mother and at his request, I dragged him to the bottom of the sea where he drowned.”
Just as I had suspected, the face I love is gone.
“I don’t understand,” Shelley says bobbling her head, lost in confusion. But she doesn’t leave my side, so I try to explain what happened as I recall the events...
Blood trickled into the water causing a frenzy among the creatures of the deep, but it wasn’t the woman’s blood that attracted me—it was her wailing. When I arrived, I knew immediately there was something wrong with her, something erroneous with her mind. Now I’m aware this was a result of the poison called mercury, as Athena explained.
The woman, Shelley’s mother, was alone, but she could not stop talking to herself as she cut herself. She was beautifully dressed in a red gown fitted over skin as fair as Shelley’s though she had thinned long blonde hair.
I feel guilty knowing now it was Shelley’s mother. I found her amusing at the time, up until a man with fiery red hair, Shelley’s father, showed up. He rowed himself to where she was and the second he climbed on board, she gazed at him and slit her own throat.
She fell into the water and I summoned the lightning to strike the beasts of the sea so they could not make a meal of her in front the man who obviously cared deeply for her. Shelley’s father took note of me, but he was not as shocked to see me as the few who have before and tried to escape. Instead, he dove in and, of all things, he could not swim.
It took every ounce of strength I had with my two arms to pull him back onto the bigger boat as he fought me. That son-of-a-bitch kicked and punched me until I was so sore I had to let him go.
He dove back in, but by then, his wife sunk to the depths of the ocean.
“Help me!” he cried. “Take me to her.”
All I could do was shake my head, No!
“Please, you don’t understand. She’s my wife. I swore to her I would never leave her. Please take me to her. I cannot bear the thought of her alone.”
I pointed at him and then into the water and wrapped both hands around my neck so he understood what I was gesturing—he would drown and die.
“My friend, there is a reason why you are here at this time and this place. There is a reason why you are in the shape you are in—you are here to help me. If I should die, if I should drown down there with the woman I love, you will not be responsible. I absolve you of whatever sin you think you will be committing. I forgive you and may whatever god or gods in our universe exist hear me say this: you must not only be forgiven, but rewarded for the act of love you are about to carry out. Please, I cannot wander this earth alone without her.”
I knew how it felt to be alone, to be without companionship. I ruminated, but I decided to take him. I took him to the bottom of the sea to be with his wife, who was already drained of blood in the eternal tomb of the ocean.
I watched him caress her dead face and hold her lifeless hand as he swallowed with heavy gulps, the salty sea, allowing it to fill his belly and keep him anchored beside her.
At that moment, I felt more alone than ever before. I had lived without affection or any kind of human contact for nearly three hundred years, so I prayed to Poseidon, to any god listening, to perhaps help me find a love like that one day. I, too, would give up all I had—immortality and power, to receive such a reward.
I feel a hard smack on my face as Shelley strikes me.
“How could you do it?!” she screeches in my ear and I turn my head to see her face look as lost as her father’s did on that dreadful day.
Shelley strikes me again and climbs on top of me trying to choke me, this time looking as mad as her mother.
Shelley hits me a few more times, but I take every blow until she starts to sob and lays to rest on me. I roll us over so I’m top of her and kiss the chubby part of her cheek smeared with salty tears streaming down her face.
She stops crying and just stares at me. I don’t move or say anything. I’ve saved her twice, but I need her to save me this time. I need her to forgive me.
She lifts her head, closes her eyes, and puckers her pretty pink lips against mine.
I change my mind. I don’t give a fuck if she forgives me. I’m taking this moment like it’s the last one. Just like Shelley’s father couldn’t let his wife go, I’m not letting this moment with Shelley get away either.
I wedge my knees between her legs and it dawns on me—I’m about to take her like I haven’t been able to before; the way I was meant to, as a man.
I get up on my knees and take my shirt off. I watch Shelley lift off her dress. She’s got no undergarments on; she was hoping this would happen. We both wanted this to happen.
I reach for my button and undo the clasp and Shelley gets up to help me with my zipper, pulling down each pant fold. She pulls out my Man Thomas, taking it into her mouth and sucking on it. I run my hands through her strawberry blonde hair and watch her engulf me. It feels too good and I’m close to reaching my peak. I haven’t had a woman suck on me for centuries and, as much as my Man Thomas would love to ejaculate in her mouth, I’m not ready for that yet.
I pull her by her hair and push her back onto the blanket and admire her. She’s so soft, so fair. There is so much I have yet to discover about her as if she’s a new found land. I want to run my hands over every peak and valley and make claim to every inch of new territory.
I rub my hands over Shelley’s inner thighs; she smiles and trembles simultaneously. I stand to slip off my pants and remember thinking—dreaming, I’d run like a madman for miles if I ever got my legs back, but I’m not going anywhere.
I get on my knees, digging them into the sand and wiggle my toes to wedge them for leverage. I slip a finger along the slit of Shelley’s privities, which she removes the hair from and I find different, but whatever makes her comfortable is fine with me.
She’s wet. She’s so fucking wet and I want to taste her. I dip my head down and take a lick as she moans. I lick the upper, small nub between her slit and her legs shake as she gasps.
I reach up with a hand to grab her plump breast and massage it as I stroke her most pleasurable knob with my tongue.
Shelley grips at my hair. “Fuck me,” she says. Her eyes squint as they peer down at me. “Blue, fuck me.”
I stop, getting up to lean on her. Her hands run over my chest, my sides, and scratch down my back. I lie on top of her and whisper in her ear. “Henry,” I tell her and I slip my hard cock into her.
She hitches and closes her eyes.
“Henry,” I say again and thrust deeper.
She moans.
“Henry!” I snap in her ear and I fuck her. I fuck her so hard, her body is jerking from the force of my thrusts thanks to my legs.
I grip one of her legs to pull it up over my shoulder and she finally croaks, “Henry!”
She gasps as I get deep and she curses then bites my shoulder. This is the fire in her, the part of her that can be all-consuming but I need her to come back to earth. I still need her forgiveness. If I want to keep doing this to her—just like this, in this way with legs as a man, I need her to tell me I’m absolved.
I slow my pace and grab her by the chin to turn her head to face me. “Tell me I’m forgiven.”
Shelley opens her eyes.
“Say my name and tell me I’m forgiven,” I say again.
She sighs, “Henry, can we forget about everything that is right and wrong with the world? Can we forget any debate about whether the earth is round or flat and all the mystic and magic? Can we just be two people—you and I, a man and a woman, making love as we were meant to on this romantic beach?”
I bite my lip. That’s not what I need but I nod.
“Just make love to me, Henry,” she pleads.
I push myself deeper inside of her and recognize the irony of our situation. I needed her that first time we made love on the beach; I was only half human, but she fully gave herself to me. Now, she needs me and I need to give myself to her completely.
So, I toss and turn her, folding and bending her as I wedge myself inside of her, always making sure she feels everything I have to offer—my lips, my tongue, my hands, my strength, my manhood. The spark of her flame ignites with a fury, forcing her to come on my cock, and I extinguish myself inside her.
My legs are weak as I lay on my back and Shelley tucks herself into my arm and at my side. I grip her tight as I stare up at the stars. In the morning, I won’t be able to speak; the magic will be gone. I should be encouraging her with words to forgive me so I’ll still be able to walk, but no words escape my mouth.
Tonight, I was a man who made love to a woman, which was all she wanted. Tonight, I believe I was a hero.
