The Hippocampus: A Short Story

Short story assignment for English. I'm especially looking for any feedback on the characters and their portrayal.

~ Feather

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He was born of the sea, learning the tides and ways of the waves before he could walk. He spoke of the ocean with a tenderness and affection that I heard only when his eyes took on that far-away look, and he would tell me about the stories of monsters and beasts that frequented the deep. Most were malicious, as I recall: krakens and sirens and all matter of other creatures that had tentacles and claws and sharp teeth. But there was one in particular he always mentioned with a certain softness, the only benevolent sea-beast I ever heard him speak of: the hippocampus, the sea-horse, scales glistening as they leaped and played in the great blue, so far away that few humans were blessed with their presence. I wondered sometimes if he had, with the way he talked of it.

After speaking for a while he would fall silent in his serene, grounded way, and I’d lean against him and place my head on his shoulder, watching the ocean that I’d never touched but that held such a critical part of his heart. Then he would tell me that though he missed it he was glad he’d chosen to stay, because, although it sounded cliche, he adored my presence more than anything else; and I would smile and tell him that I couldn’t imagine life without him and we’d simply sit for hours together at the shore and watch the waves as night fell, a starry blanket descending upon a whispering ocean.

He was the best thing that ever happened to me. He resembled a lion, muscles rippling under scarred skin, his near seven feet of height gazing down at me. He was intimidating when he wanted to be - the man I knew as a soft-hearted kitten-lover could simply stand and stare down at anyone who he felt needed to be reminded of their place, and they would slink away like a dog with their tail between their legs. He never was like that with me, though, not even when he got angry. I’d never met a person so forgiving. His touch was gentle as a summer breeze, his smile warm as the golden sun, reaching his eyes and lighting up the golden flecks hidden in rich amber, and when he got frustrated or mad he was surprisingly quick to quiet himself and speak to me in that soft, rumbling purr that was his voice.

It was an unorthodox set of circumstances that pulled us together. I was always a free spirit, a traveller, a nomad, following my fancy at a moment’s notice. I enjoyed the freedom it offered me; nothing tied me down, nothing kept me in one place for long, and I was accompanied only by Magpie, my black-and-white cat who I’d found in an alley a few years prior. Such whims led me on many adventures and I saw everything from deep canyons that delved so far into the earth they seemed to be able to touch the planet’s core itself to mountain peaks where the air was hardly breathable and you could see the mountains out to the horizon and seemingly beyond, a great green expanse of rolling hills and evergreens enveloped in frost and snow. Sometimes I went beyond the wilds to cities of skyscrapers and well-kept parks full of pigeons and squirrels, or to small villages found off in the countryside where communications didn’t work and you were finally present among the few people around you.

It was in the latter kind of place I first met him, unsurprisingly by the coast. I’d slept under the dock that night due to my lack of accommodations and when I pulled myself up onto the structure itself I found myself gazing at a magnificent, three-masted carrack flying a small sea-green pennant with some kind of gold fish-horse-thing leaping across it in a dolphin-esque pose. Sailors scurried across the deck like rats, working in perfect tandem with the ease of long practice, laughing and singing sea shanties that must’ve been a hundred years old. I felt a pang of sadness as I watched this this; moving as much as I left little room for close connections to friends which I secretly yearned for, but it kept me away from thinking of the family I’d never had, so I pushed the sorrow away and put a smile on my face and sauntered over to the port side of the ship with a carefree demeanor and happy abandon.

“Oi,” called I, “Ya ain’t got some bit o’ work a landlugger like me could be doin’ fer some spare coin?”

One of the sailors chuckled and gestured to Mags, who was rubbing up against my boot. “Ya rent out that cat o’ yours?” he asked me with a smile.

I looked down, the feline leaping up to my shoulders and draping herself over me. “I would, but I don’ think she’d be stayin’ here fer long.”

“Well, we just docked, so we ain’t got much. Try up on the land ‘till ya get yer sea-legs,” he laughed.

I smiled back and started up the dock towards the mainland. The salty air was crisp and fresh in my lungs, a taste of the ocean. Gulls cried overhead, a cacophony of their raucous shrieks merging with the lull of the waves and distant barks of seals. I wasn’t overly concerned with my lack-of-money predicament; I had my ways, so long as I didn’t get caught. It was the philosophy I was raised on - you got in trouble for someone seeing you, not for the action itself. I was pretty sustainable and selective about it, anyways, for I didn’t fancy stealing a livelihood from someone who would starve for it.

That would be where our paths started to cross, I suppose, the moment I made that fleeting decision about how I would go about getting my money. Either that or the moment I got caught.

I was generally quite good, as I’d been practicing the craft since my early youth. Everyone makes mistakes, however, and that day it was my turn: I slipped as I pulled someone’s wallet out of their pocket, nearly face planting and making it quite evident where my fingers had been. They turned, yelling ‘thief’ at the top of their voice and prompting me to take off at a sprint through the strange town.

It was, simply put, pandemonium. Whistles screeched and people yelled and I spun around a corner. My heart was racing, beating a million miles an hour, louder than the rumbling of a thousand horses’ hooves in my ears. Sweat beaded my palms and I found myself moving without thought, just instinct, just fear. I bolted around a corner and slammed into a wall only a few inches around the bend.

I looked up, stumbling back and grabbing my throbbing nose as it began to gush warm blood to find myself staring up at a very concerned monster of a man, who was a mix of shocked and worried and utterly baffled.“O-oh, excuse me! I’m sorry!” he stammered. “Are you alright?” The giant proceeded to dig through his pockets before producing a handkerchief and handing it to me. I was still staring at him in surprise, dumbfounded by his size and reaction.

I nodded mutely and pressed the handkerchief to my nose, gazing up at him. I apologised through the bloodied cloth for my carelessness and explained how I’d been in a hurry because my cat had run off on me. Come to think of it, she had actually disappeared. She must’ve leapt off me when I slipped - I wasn’t worried, though. She always found me soon enough.

That was where it all began, when the sounds of pursuit died behind me and a new stage of my life began. The next hours went quickly, as I recall: he offered to help me retrieve Magpie and we were off like that, all over town. It was the most amazing day of my life. Discussions and jokes and camaraderie I’d never experienced before. It was something I’d yearned for my entire life and I’d never even fully realized I wanted. For the first time I stayed in one place for weeks on end, meeting him most days and regretting his absence when I was alone.

It was our third night out together when he first pulled me down to the beach, the soft sound of the waves whispering in gentle harmony with the murmuring wind across the sands; forty-five years later and it was the last.

I never set foot on an ocean-faring vessel until the night after he died, for then it was all I had left of the benevolent giant. We’d always kept a kayak out on the shore, and that evening I pushed it out to sea and drifted from the shallows to the deep, stars reflected off the water so I was floating amongst the cosmos itself.

There was a shadow, a movement rippling just under the surface. A dolphin, perhaps; they were not uncommon on these shores.

Then, on the horizon, lit by the silver moon, they started leaping, playing, dancing silhouettes that were familiar, yet...no, it had to be them, with forequarters like that. The hippocampi he always spoke of.

I hoped he was finally among them.