The Keeper of Buccas' Edge

"Cass, we’re going to get swallowed whole by that thing if we don’t head out,” Morris said, leaning against the railing of our small trawler boat and pointing up at the sky.

“It’s just a little storm, and I will not botch another trip out here. Maybe if you wouldn’t just stand there we’d be done by now!” I tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind my ear and crossed my arms. I wore a layered purple coat and jeans, but the cold continued to nip fiercely. We had three fishing poles set up around the deck, each one clamped to the railing. Can’t you darn fish just bite already?

“Okay, for one, I’m just the first-year boat driver today, and two ... as far as I know, I can't magically make the fish bite. We’ve been out here for a few hours and haven’t caught more than a couple foot-long tuna. Why don’t we just go back to campus, get some dinner, and come back tomorrow? If we would’ve just used the trawl, as I suggested, we would’ve been done yesterday.”

I sighed. “I already told you, that wasn’t our assignment. And don’t throw that first-year talk around. We both know you’ve practically lived at sea since before you could walk.”

“Still, I don’t know how they would find out,” he said.

I shook my head. “We both know the Academy has cameras all around this thing.”

He shrugged and looked up to the sky, which was growing darker by the second. A few minutes won’t make much of a difference. We’ll make it. I kept my eye on the fishing rods, examining each of them one by one. C’mon ... this was supposed to be a simple trip. We can’t start on our report until we tag something ... I don’t even care if it’s the most elementary semi-endangered fish in the ocean. The majority of the time, the rock of the trawler went unnoticed by my senses, but as the waves and wind began to pick up, it was impossible to ignore. I sighed. You win.

I turned to face Morris, who gazed at me expectantly. “Help me pull these lines in,” I said. He nodded and pushed his shaggy, black hair back from his forehead.

As I reeled in the first line, the rain began; nothing, then all at once. By the time I secured my first rod, Morris was already done with his second, and we rushed into the cabin of the boat.

“You still happy we waited?” he asked as he sat in the driver’s seat and flipped multiple switches. “It’s a downpour out there.”

My teeth chattered as I hugged myself, my clothes drenched to the core. “Yeah, I noticed.” My short dirty-blonde hair was barely long enough to be tucked into a ponytail, and I tightened it as tight as it could be pulled. “How long will it take to get back in this?”

His hands shook as he began to steer us back to shore. “We‘ll make it.”

“That’s not what I-.” I stopped myself short before I could continue. Knowing the seas called for every bit of his attention, I stepped away from his station and moved to the back of the cabin. It was small, and the walls and cabinets were covered in fishing gear and supplies, but the benches around the perimeter of the room were empty. I sat near a small, square window and clutched the ledge of the seat until my knuckles whitened.

Rain poured against the window in a curtain. The waves beyond were barely visible, yet they pounded into the side of the trawler like a raging bull. I knew better. Three years into studying marine biology—only four more to go— and I still make novice mistakes.

“We aren’t going to make it back to campus!” Morris shouted over the torrent.

The words chilled my bones, and the situation was suddenly real. If I would’ve just listened we wouldn’t even be in this mess. “W-What do you mean?”

“The closest dock is on Buccas’ Edge. We’ll stop there until the storm passes,” he yelled.

“Are you sure that’s our best bet? The shore isn’t far off from there.” His response was lost in the wind, and I grasped everything I could to keep from tumbling to the floor. How does he know the keepers haven’t left yet? They automated the lighthouse last week, right? Or is that next week?

Thank God we were assigned the trawler. I can’t imagine going through this without a cabin roof. I stared out the window and relaxed my grip after what felt like an eternity. We can’t be far off.

With the explosion of a wave crashing into the back of our trawler, I was flung from my seat and sent tumbling to the front of the cabin. My left wrist erupted in pain, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Morris glanced back and cursed under his breath.

Maybe this is it. Maybe we’ll both die at sea in our early twenties because I wanted to rush a report.

I struggled over to the wall and clamped my hand around a low handle meant to hold a spiral of rope, squeezing my eyes shut and holding myself in place the best I could. It seemed to be hours until Morris finally grabbed me by the shoulders.

“You need to head up to the lighthouse and see if anyone’s up there while I tie up the boat, okay?” His features danced in the shadows, his eyes bright with alarm.

“I can’t leave you out here in this! What if you need help?”

“This is just another storm, Cassia, I’ll be fine. Now you need to go!” He pushed me out of the cabin and into the downpour before I could object.

I held my injured hand close to my chest as I unlocked the gate leading out to the diving platform. I could hardly see the dock beside us and cautiously jumped to it, careful not to slip on the slick wood. I glanced behind me to see Morris lugging a spiral of nylon rope out of the trawler’s cabin, and before I could turn back I started up the dock towards the decaying, crooked staircase that led up the steep slope of the island. The lamp of the lighthouse blinked every ten seconds or so, providing small increments of light. Maybe we would’ve been better off going below deck and waiting out the storm.

I trekked up the uneven stairs, each one proving more difficult than the last. I tripped onto flat ground, and my feet connected with the grass on the top of the island. I looked back for Morris, but the rain blocked my view of the boat. You’re going to make it. You better make it.

My entire body shook as I squinted up at the white lighthouse. Connected to it was a small, white-bricked lodge designated for the keeper and his family. Wait ... is that light? My knees shook with relief as I stumbled closer to the cottage. What seemed to be a kitchen window was illuminated with warm light, and a rickety wooden door stood tall to its left. I hesitated before knocking. What do I tell them? The truth?

I could have spent hours procrastinating if it weren’t for the blinding, ice-cold rain and my injured wrist. I rapped on the door before I could back down. Let’s just hope they don’t mind visitors.

Hope seeped out of me as the door remained closed, and I knocked once more. C’mon, just open the dang door! I was about to knock again when the door flew open, revealing a tall, broad man who appeared to be in his mid to late thirties. He doesn’t seem like the type who’d take interest in sitting around a lighthouse all day.

“Who are you?” Annoyance and urgency leaked into his words.

“Well, uhm, we were out on our boat when the storm started, and we were wondering if we could wait here until it, uhm, passes,” I said, my teeth chattering. Wow. Great job, Cass.

He stood up straight and crossed his arms. “Who is ‘we?’” he asked, looking around me and into the storm.

“Me and my, uhm, classmate,” I said. The throbbing in my wrist numbed as I stood in the rain. It doesn’t matter ... just let me in.

After a moment of thought, he sighed and rubbed his chin. “In that case, come inside. Is your ... friend coming?”

I glanced over my shoulder. I was asking myself the same question. “Yes, he’s just tying up the trawler.”

He motioned me inside and receded from the door frame. I scurried in as soon as I had the chance, and the striking smell of cinnamon engulfed me. The inside of the cottage was warm and small, but the way it was organized made it work. Aged hardwood flooring spanned across the floor, and all the walls were white. The right wall had three doors, while the left had one. That probably leads directly into the lighthouse. A kitchenette with a window above the sink was situated to the right when you walked in, and in the far-right corner was a round table with four chairs. The sitting area took up the rest of the room and consisted of an orange sofa, a wooden rocking chair, and a fireplace built into the corner with white brick. A few magazines were strewn about a coffee table, but, other than that, the space was clutter-free.

“Sit anywhere you like while I go find your friend,” he said. I nodded, and before I knew it, he disappeared into the rainstorm.

I slipped off my worn tennis shoes by the door and hung my coat on the rack. Only two other coats accompanied mine, one a dull green and the other a subtle rose. He must have a wife or something. My Burton Academy tee was damp, but everything else was soaked. I feel bad getting their furniture wet. I walked over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair.

I couldn’t move my left wrist without it erupting in pain, and as my body thawed out it only worsened. At least it’s not my dominant hand. I may not be able to dive or reel for a while until it heals, though. My eyelids began to droop, and it took all of my willpower to keep them open.

A clap of thunder startled me from my daze, and seconds later the front door flung open. The man came rushing in, shaking the access water onto the floor. I stood, waiting for Morris to run in behind him. “Where is he?” My voice shook as I spoke, and it took all of my strength to keep my eyes dry. If he’s gone it’s my fault, no matter what anyone says.

“He’s right behind me,” the man said, slipping off his shoes. Not two seconds later Morris stumbled in, drenched to the core. He shut the door behind him and brushed his hair out of his face. Thank God.

“Are you alright?” I asked, rushing up to him.

“Another day in paradise,” he said, slipping off his coat and draining water everywhere. “Sorry.”

The man merely glanced at him. “I’ll get you both new clothes. The bathroom is the door closest to us on the right.” He moved to the last door, only opening it wide enough for him to slip through, and closed it behind him.

“Doesn’t he seem a little ... odd to you?” I whispered.

Morris shrugged. “A couple of university kids just showed up at his house—in the middle of the sea, no less. Relax, there’s nothing to worry about.” He slipped off his shoes, which were in much worse condition than mine, and looked down at me. He was a good foot taller than me, as I was just barely over five feet. “And if there is, we’ll be fine.”

We were interrupted as the man reentered the main room, handing a pile of clothes to each of us. “You can change in the bathroom, and I’ll lay out some blankets for you both. Tomorrow morning I’ll see if I can get any connections through to the mainland, as I assume neither of you will be driving a boat anytime soon.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well with that wrist of yours and whatever injuries your friend may have picked up, it’d be foolish to try.” He began to walk back to what I assumed was his room.

“Wait. I don’t think we caught your name,” Morris said.

“You can call me Canaan,” he responded. “And yours?”

“Cassia,” I said hurriedly. “And this is Morris. Does anyone else live here?”

“Yes, my wife. Why do you ask?”

“No reason, really. I just noticed the other shoes and such,” I said.

Canaan nodded and disappeared into the bedroom.

“Really?” Morris said as soon as he was gone.

“What?”

“Every time something seems a little fishy—even if it’s not—you go into hightail questioning mode. Sometimes I think you’d be better off moving to London and joining the Scotland Yard,” he said.

“Is it really a bad thing, though? It may help us in the long run,” I said. “And what did he say about your injuries?”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I slipped and bumped my head, that’s all. Nothing to worry about. Now you, what happened to your wrist?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll wrap it when we get back to campus.” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. If you won’t admit anything, I won’t either. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get changed.”

The knob of the bathroom was the same as the others, black cast iron and cool to the touch.

“Don’t take too long, I’d like to sleep tonight,” Morris said. I sighed and closed the door behind me.

It was a small bathroom. In fact, I could barely move around without bumping into the sink or tripping over the bath. I changed as quickly as I could without using my left hand, which proved much more difficult than expected. The gray shirt was a size or two bigger than needed, but the black pants slipped on fine. I removed my ponytail and squeezed out my hair in the bath before exiting the room.

Morris was leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, and when he noticed me emerge, he slid past and closed the door behind him. I sat on the coarse orange sofa of the sitting area and noticed there were already blankets set out. I regarded them but couldn’t bring myself to lie down.

What a day this has been. I can’t even imagine how the professors are going to react when they find out how stupid we were. No—how stupid I was.

I was shaken out of my thoughts when whispers traveled under Canaan’s door. Don’t be a creeper, Cass. Against my better judgment, I found myself listening intently, but the words were far too muffled to be heard. I’m just doing what I’m best at: research. I rose from the sofa and moved closer to the door, and the voices became more audible by the second.

“Tell me where you’ve hidden it, woman!” Canaan exclaimed softly.

“You pronounce yourself a fool by presuming you’d get the answer out of me,” the woman spat. “Now tell me, where is my husband?”

I stumbled back from the door but inched closer as the voices muddled once more. What have we walked into?

“Forget the old man, you are the one responsible for it. I recommend you start talking unless you want us to drag them into it,” Canaan whispered harshly. I glanced back to the bathroom door. Morris, hurry up already! My hands shook with adrenaline and fear.

“You won’t be able to get to them! By God, they’re only children!” She said louder.

“Quiet!” he scolded softly.

“You—.”

“Cass, what are you doing?” I held back a yelp as I flung around. Morris stood behind me, clad in a green shirt and gray, baggy pants.

“Shhh!” I held a finger to my mouth and continued, my eyes remaining focused on Canaan’s door and my voice barely a whisper. “There are people in there.”

“We know that already,” he said, shaking his head.

“The woman in there isn’t his wife, Morris,” I whispered. “He’s looking for something, and she has it.”

“But—“

“And he’s in there threatening her kids. I don’t know if they’re in there or not but ... Morris, we need to get out of here.” My voice began to break as I held my throbbing wrist to my chest.

Morris rubbed his chin. “Are you sure you heard it right?”

“I—“

Canaan’s door creaked open. We're screwed. As he slid out and shut the door behind him, I backed away slowly, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes, we were just getting ready to settle down. Thanks again, for letting us stay here, I mean,” Morris said. His shoulders were tense, and he clenched his fists. Nevertheless, his smile masked it all.

“Well then,” Canaan said, “I’ll leave you to it.” Without sparing us another glance, he disappeared into the darkness of the lighthouse.

Before Morris could stop me, I grabbed the doorknob of Canaan’s room—which was most certainly not even his—and softly flung the door open.

A loud gasp emitted from my mouth as the sight unfolded. On the king bed that took up a majority of the room sat a woman much older than me with curly gray hair and scared brown eyes. She whimpered against the gag in her mouth, pulling at the bonds that held her hands captive to the bed frame.

I was paralyzed, unable to move a muscle as my legs quaked. Morris pushed past me and approached the woman. He began to ask her a question before realizing she couldn’t talk, and he released her gag. Her chest rapidly rose and fell as her gaze shifted from Morris to me.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” she said.

“What’s going on? Who was that man?” Morris asked.

“They sent him, We assumed someone would come soon enough, but not like this.” Morris began to unknot the binds with skilled hands.

“Who’s ‘they?’” I asked, my voice quivering. She’s the one bound to a bed, yet I’m quaking like a shed in a hurricane.

She shook her head. “Not anyone in particular. Many people want what we have, it was just the matter of who tried to take it first.”

“D-Do you think it will ... go too far?” I asked. Nobody answered, but we all knew the truth. It’s already gone too far, and we’ve walked right into a horror story. “Morris?”

“Yeah?” he said, finally getting the binds loose enough for the woman to free her hands.

“Do you think we could get away on the trawler?”

He shook his head. “It was only getting worse when I got up here. We’ll have to think of something else.”

“Is anyone else here? Canaan—I mean, whoever he is—said something about kids,” I said. He may already have them.

“Only my husband and I live here. He was talking about the children in the photograph.” She gestured to a picture frame on the bedside table. Three young children smiled through the photograph, each one with vibrant strawberry-blonde hair. “They are our grandchildren, but they’re safe from the likes of him. They moved to America last year.”

Morris nodded. “We need to get you out of here. Is there a telephone we could use to call for help?”

She shook her head solemnly. “I’m afraid not. At least, not one that would work during a storm like this. He’ll be back soon, and you two shouldn’t be in here when he is.”

“He’ll see you untied either way,” Morris said.

“No ... not if he doesn’t get the chance to come here in the first place,” I said slowly. Both of their eyes bored into me in thought, and I felt fidgety under their gaze. “We have to do something.” I moved from my place in the doorway and leaned against the wall to its right.

“Yes, but ... maybe we could—“

The woman froze on the bed, staring out into the main room. Shoot.

Canaan ripped past me and over to the bed. “What exactly are you doing in here boy?”

“I, uhm—“

“Where’s the girl?” he spat.

“I-In the bathroom. I swear, she hasn’t seen any of this,” Morris said. His eyes were glued on Canaan, but I knew what I had to do. I swiftly inched my way out of the room, all the while staring at the heaving back of the intruder and itching to bolt out of there. As soon as I rounded the corner, my eyes flew everywhere, and I scurried over to the kitchenette. There has to be a pan or something somewhere in here. I gently opened cabinet after cabinet and was confronted with nothing. Of course ... they must’ve been ready to head to the mainland tomorrow or the day after. The sixth cabinet I opened hit the jackpot. Under a few oven mitts and a recipe book was a metal pot. I grabbed it quickly, testing it in my hands. What am I about to do with this thing?

An arm wrapped around my throat and the pot dropped with a cling. I clawed at the attacker's arm, but there was nothing I could do. The odds were against me, and, this time, there would be no logical way out.

I screamed for Morris in my head, but soon even that was hard to keep up. Black spots danced before my eyes, and my ears rang. I guess this is how it ends. I attempted to kick back at his knees, but, even at my full strength, I’d be no match for the man. My consciousness was waning quickly, and the last thing I could recall was the pressure being released from my neck. But it was too late, and I succumbed to the black abyss.

I gripped at the blankets around me, keeping my eyes shut. That’s odd... I’m never awake before my alarm sounds. I turned over, wanting to cherish my last moments of rest, but my face brushed a coarse fabric.

My eyes fluttered open and were met with a wall of dull orange. What? The events of the night prior came rushing back, along with the ache of my wrist and a pounding headache. I sat up instantly, and stars interrupted my vision. I thought he killed me. I thought I was dead.

“Woah, there, we don’t want you fainting again anytime soon,” Morris said. I looked over the back of the sofa to see Morris sitting at the kitchen table.

“W-What happened?” I croaked. My good hand shot up to my throat, which throbbed with every swallow.

“Try not to talk, okay? Uhm ... here, I’ll get you some water.” He scampered over to the kitchenette and filled a glass with the sink. My mouth was as barren as it had ever been, and I attempted to gulp the water down when he handed me the glass. I choked and spurted most of it out, breaking out into a coughing fit.

Morris took the glass and kneeled next to me. I soon recovered, but I was left with an itching and aching throat.

“A-Are you okay?” he asked, placing his hand on my back. I gave him a knowing look. Does it look like it?

“Oh! Dear, you’re awake!” The woman from the night before rushed in the front door, and a man of about her age followed. “Morris, hun, the transport has arrived. Are you feeling well enough to walk?”

It took me a moment to realize she was talking to me, and I nodded. Morris stood and tried to help me up, but I waved him away. I hefted myself up, but I grabbed his shoulder for balance until I gathered myself together.

“Where is he?” I croaked. The images of his arm wrapped around my neck flashed by, and I shuddered. If they would’ve waited to do whatever they did, I might’ve been dead.

“They took ‘im away ‘bout an hour ago. By God, it’d do good to ship him far away from this place,” the old man spoke up. He wore a pair of worn jeans and a button-down, and his hair was a wispy white. His nose resembled that of a hawk’s beak.

I nodded and wrapped my arms around myself, chills running down my spine.

“I’ll grab your coat,” Morris said, and I realized he already had his own. I followed him to the door and slipped mine on, careful not to disturb my wounded wrist, which was freshly wrapped in a layer of gauze.

All four of us walked down to the dock, as it was also time for the keeper and his wife to return home. The trawler remained where it was, and it appeared marginally damaged from the night before. I guess we took the brunt of the hit. The transport boat was waiting for us there, and the trawler would have to wait to make it back to shore.

Morris kept his arm around me the entire ride to the mainland as if I’d fall to pieces if he let go. His warmth was welcoming on the cold, open-air ride back, especially as Anne- the woman- and Jack- the true keeper- recollected what happened after I’d passed out. How the false keeper was foolish enough to leave Morris behind untied was beyond me, but self-confidence gets in the way of a lot of things. That, and the simple lack of common sense.

“Morris?” I croaked out after everyone had returned to silence.

“Yeah?” Worriedness laced his tone. Gosh. He better not baby me for the rest of my life.

“Let’s never do that again,” I said, coughing painfully into my elbow.

“I agree.” He smiled sadly and looked off towards the nearing shore, attempting to hide his shimmering eyes.

I grabbed his hand and whispered so that no one else could hear. “We’re going to make it.”