Blue on Blue

Chapter Thirty-Five

The kettle whistle blows. Daniel reaches for a coffee mug, catching his reflection in the window above the sink. It seems like only yesterday, he was a young, eager neuroscientist teaching and conducting research at the University Hospital Research Lab. The creases in his face and the white streaks in his hair, are harsh reminders of the seventeen years that have passed since then. He pours the steaming water over dried leaves and lets them steep until the water turns as black as the clouds outside his cabin window. The cabin creaks and moans with each wind gust that blows across the sea. 

He lifts the cup to his lips. His broad, round shoulders sink. The smooth liquid warms him. He stares at the sea beating against the cliff wall with a violent battering of punches and slaps. 

Lightening zaps across the sky, illuminating the shoreline. He squints at something moving in the sand at the base of the cliff. He stills. Eyes wide, he doesn't blink. He waits and he watches. Lightning flashes. He gasps and sets his mug onto the counter. 

He pulls a flashlight from the drawer. 

He paces to the front door, grabbing his raincoat off a hook along the way. 

He traipses down the jagged rocks, slick with seaweed. 

His eyes lock on the mound washed upon the rocks. 

He grasps a piece of drift wood, half-buried in the sand. He pokes at the mound. 

It moans. 

Daniel gasps. He checks the pulse. It's faint, but it's there. 

He takes a good look at the face, bruised and swollen, but familiar. He grabs an arm and hoists it over his shoulders. 

"Don't worry, old friend. I've got you." 

The battered man opens a swollen eye. "Daniel. Is that you?" His voice is thin.

Cloud cover hangs thick above them. 

Lightning bolts break across the sky. 

"It's me, Henry. It's Daniel. Let's get you inside."