On the night of April 17th 1956, I was with several friends sitting on a beach listening to Captain Castillo as he told us scary stories by a campfire. I wasn’t particularly fond of scary stories, but I knew Eva would be there. She loved scary stories, and I loved her.
That night would alter the course of my life forever in so many ways, although I didn’t know it at the time.
I was thirteen.
-
Captain Castillo was a lifelong sailor, a rambler of the high seas. His long white hair was always pulled back into a tight pony tail and his leathery, weather worn skin was stretched over a spindly frame.
His voice was low and powerful. He may have been an old seadog, but his accent was that of a Spanish gentleman. He could command any room that he walked into at half the volume of anyone else. His eyes were a frigid gray, set in a warm face with hard lines down the sides of his mouth due to the constant smile of a man who was satisfied with his life. Although he may well have been in his seventies, he had a boyish charm that refused to age with his body and he never missed an opportunity to give a flattering word to any woman he crossed.
He ran his own rig and refused to hire any hands to help him, content to toil everyday with the love of his life, La Bestia Hermosa.
La Bestia was a thirty foot vessel and just as worn and weather beaten as her Captain. When she would come back into the bay every night, she would belch out great gobs of black smoke into the foggy skies. The ship was a patchwork of repairs and modifications with no efforts to blend them into a cohesive whole.
The only thing about La Bestia that could be considered beautiful was the wooden figurehead of an angel under the bowsprit. Captain Castillo was as diligent about his angel’s upkeep as he was about neglecting the way everything else looked.
The angel held a sword in one hand and cradled a baby in the other. Unlike most figureheads I had ever seen, her eyes were not pointed up, but down. She held the sword low as well, as if she was keeping watch for any dangers that might arise from the depths.
-
The Captain always sat at the same spot on the beach after the sun went down. Captain’s Spot is what it was known as around town. There was an old jon boat that the ocean had spat far up onto the beach decades before. No one ever claimed it, and for some reason, no one ever thought to remove it.
When Captain Castillo decided to settle in the little fishing town back when it was more of a village, he took a shine to the corroded derelict. He always used to joke that he had claimed it for Spain, and even painted a Spanish flag on either side of the rusty bow. He had fashioned a backrest on the second bench and for over thirty years, every night except for the night of the Lord’s Day, he would sit in that boat.
He’d lean back with his bare feet on the front bench, and drown the aches and pains of a hard day’s work in liquor and watch the waves until it was time for him to get some sleep, only to get up the next day and do it all over again.
It was sort of a town tradition for kids to go down and listen to his stories. My mom and dad listened to them back when they were kids.
I guess you could say he was like a saltier, morbid version of Mister Rogers. Instead of telling stories that would lift people up, he would tell stories of people being pulled down to bad deaths at the bottom Of Davy Jones’ Locker.
He would always hide the medicine of a moral in there somewhere, but most kids were there for the thrills.
Stories of murderous sailors who went mad with thirst and from the heat. Stories of legions of fish people who would lay claim to the citizens of seaside towns every hundred years and feast on their flesh.
The Captain was a hard nosed Catholic, and he always managed to tie his faith into every one of his tales, whether it was the moral, or the wrath of an angry God.
The night of April 17th, 1956 was no different.
-
I’d been feeling ill all day, but I never said anything to my parents. I could have used the excuse to stay home from school, but that would mean that I couldn’t be on the beach that night.
The day dragged on and on until finally, the sun began to sink. I was exhausted and I had fallen asleep just after supper, but I was up again after my friends came knocking on our front door. By the time we got down to the beach, there was already a small campfire burning just off the bow of Captain’s Spot.
As Castillo rambled on about the dangers that lurk in the deep and the waves reached up behind us in the darkness, my head began to burn and throb. I honestly don’t remember a lot of what he said that night, but I do remember his last story. I had heard it several times before, and it was always the one that bothered me the most. But this time was different.
I remember every word, because it was the last story I would ever hear.
-
“When Saint Michael expelled the filth from Paradise, the corrupted angels were all cast down. Cursed to inhabit the earth forever, never to see Paradise again. This was long before man and woman were created. Long before God himself created the sun and the stars. Long before the waters were forced to retreat from the land.
The wicked traitors fell from the skies and plunged into the depths. Their plummeting bodies created all manner of canyons and trenches at the bottom of the lonely ocean when they finally came to rest. The cold crushing blackness of it all drove them mad, and they became twisted perversions of the beautiful creatures they once were. Unable to die, but unable to live, they fell into a deep slumber.
Ages passed, and the world was created anew.
Some of them began to wake up.
They started to feed on the new creatures that ventured down or the bodies of great fish that sunk to the bottom. The fallen angels began to grow stronger again.
For many centuries, the devils stayed hidden in the depths, ashamed to show their forms in the light in the face of the God that they betrayed, but wickedness grows and becomes shameless over time.
Many of them, the most blasphemous ones, began to rise toward the surface. To break the waters to feed on God’s new creations.
Their songs can be heard on the wind if one listens. Beautiful songs of lies and seductions. If you were to listen too long, you would be cursed, just as they. Cursed to join them at the bottom of the ocean forever.”
-
My head was getting heavier and I felt hot while I listened to him finish the story. I thought that I was sitting too close to the fire. I tried to stand up to move away and that’s when the whole world turned and I fell into the sand. I heard the crashing waves as everything faded away around me.
-
I woke up a month later in a hospital, an hour away from my home. My hearing was gone, taken by a fever that should have killed me.
It took a very long time for me to adjust to my new life. Much later, I would learn ASL, but while I lived in that town, that was not a possibility back then. It wouldn’t have been much use anyway.
I became very good at reading lips, I had to. Thankfully everyone I was around was incredibly supportive. I have a strong feeling of pride that I came from a place where the people were so giving and so caring. In that, I have been a very fortunate man.
Maybe that’s why our town was chosen. There was too much good in it.
-
I remember going back to school for the first time and seeing Eva. It was a hard day. I realized that I would never hear her voice again. The sweetest sound I had ever known.
I would still go to the Captain’s Spot with my friends, and Castillo was very deliberate in speaking directly to me so I could read his lips. I started to enjoy his stories. It became a very personal thing for me because it felt like he was just telling the story to me and no one else. His voice had already been burned into my brain, so I could imagine the sound of every word.
For some reason, he took an interest in me, and we became very close. He asked me if I wanted to go fishing with him off the end of the pier, and it became something I did every Sunday afternoon.
One day, while we were both sitting on the rail at the end of the pier, I turned to him and tugged at his sleeve.
“I thought you never went fishing on Sunday.”
“Well, the Captain never works on Sunday. That day belongs to God. This isn’t work Miguel. This is worship.”
-
When I turned fifteen, he hired me on as a hand two days a week. He had never had a hand before, and I was honored that he chose to share La Bestia Hermosa with me and I fell in love with the sea, for a time.
For almost three years, in spite of losing my hearing, it was some of the best times of my life.
-
It was a Saturday in late April and I was sixteen.
The sun was about to come up and the Captain was getting the boat ready at the dock. He stopped his work and lit a cigarette as I walked down to him.
“Good morning Miguel.”
“Morning.”
“I was thinking. I think it would be best if you were to take the day off.”
“Why?”
“Miguel, it’s going to be warm today. First warm day of the year.”
“Yes sir.”
“I was thinking you might be far more interested in the beach today. I have a feeling you might want to cast your net there instead of out in the water with an old prune like me.”
“What?”
“Women Miguel. The most beautiful and wonderful things God ever created. There’s going to be a bounty to behold on the sand. Stay behind and catch one of those. If I were five years younger, I’d stay with you.” He smiled, winked, and a gentle trail of smoke came through his teeth. I smiled back at him. He must have seen something in my face.
“There is a girl, isn’t there?”
“There is.”
“Of course there is. Sing to her Miguel. Don’t wait. Life is short. Sing to her before some silver tongued devil does it first and takes her away forever.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “I will see tonight my friend, unless God smiles on your efforts or the devil himself runs me down.”
-
It was about an hour from dusk. I had spent the day at the end of the pier with a fishing pole in my hand.
Most of the town had gathered on the beach to enjoy the weather.
The Captain was right, there were lots of girls on the beach, including the only one I ever had eyes for, but my ability to speak to her was only slightly better than my ability to hear, so I was content just to sit on the rail at the end of the pier and enjoy the lazy day. Every so often, I would steal a glance at Eva down on the beach with her friends.
The wind had started to blow a little colder, and dark clouds were looming far out in the distance. I could see La Bestia Hermosa making her way toward home, belching smoke and running like hell from a fog bank. Two other rigs were running to her port. They were both slightly behind her.
Everybody on the beach was starting to pack it in, and parents were calling out to some of the braver children who were still out in the water.
There were birds flying inland. Hundreds of them. I had never seen anything like it. They were all in a tight formation like they were trying to get away from the devil himself.
I reeled in my line and jumped back on the pier when I realized that Eva had been walking toward me. I felt like an idiot as she walked up. I couldn’t even get my mouth to give her a proper smile.
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Are you giving up?” She motioned to my empty basket.
“Yes.”
…
…
… My God you idiot, I thought, say something!
“Um…it’s getting cold.” It was all I could think of.
“Yes…it is.”
…
…
“Well, I have to go home. I just wanted to say hi. See you later.” She smiled and walked away.
I have no idea why I couldn’t say anything else at that point. I stared at her as she walked back down the pier and up toward town. I cursed myself and turned around to grab my things.
The fog bank was moving towards us fast, and the three vessels running from it were moving even faster. I thought it was strange that all three ships were running at full speed directly toward the beach, and not the docks.
The ship that was bringing up the rear suddenly lit up, and I realized that a fire had broken out. I dropped my things and just stared.
I squinted my eyes and focused. Captain Castillo was not at the helm of La Bestia. It was then that third boat in the rear exploded.
Everyone on the beach jumped up. Parents were frantically calling to their children to get out of the water, but no one moved away from the beach. They just stared at the boats racing for land. There were quite a few people on the pier that were watching as well.
As she got closer, I could see that the sword on La Bestia’s figurehead had been broken. The other ship coming in also had no one on board that I could see, but I saw several gashes along her port side, and she was taking on water. She slowed to a crawl in an instant, and I could see something underneath her. A large shadow that stretched out underneath the surface of the water.
I ran as fast as I could down the planks of the pier toward the beach. By the time I hit the sand, La Bestia Hermosa had run aground and buried her bow. I ran towards her, all the while keeping an eye on the water and the dark shadow that was moving closer to the shore.
I was able to climb up the bow and called out for my friend, but he was not there. There was a slick substance on parts of the deck, and up the side toward the helm.
I noticed a sudden smell of rot on the breeze. Once, I had experienced the smell of a rotting whale carcass while I was out with the Captain, and that’s the only scent I could even begin to compare it to.
Several dogs left their owners behind and ran inland, taking off like someone had set their tails on fire. A few people decided to run back toward town as well.
The waves in the bay stopped.
They didn’t slow, they stopped.
The water in the bay was as calm as a pond, and the hairs on the back of my neck went straight up.
I saw something break the water.
About thirty yards from the shore, I saw a woman rising up and moving through the water with no effort at all, as if she was being pushed toward the shore by something underneath her. She moved forward until she was only a few feet from the shore.
I could see her from the waist up. She was naked and the skin of her body was gray as if it had never seen the sun, but the skin of her face was a bronze that gave off a strange light that was impossible to take your eyes off of. There was no hair on her head and her arms hung limp and lifeless at her sides. Her eyes were disproportionately large compared to her face.
Fish eyes.
They were moving wildly and independently of each other.
The stench from her had me on the verge of throwing up, and a few of the people on the beach did. I’m sure everyone had the same thought that I did; get away from the water, but there was something about the glow of the woman’s face. Like it was attracting all of us somehow, not specifically to it, but just enough to captivate our attention.
To keep us standing still.
The woman began to sway and her mouth opened and that’s when everything changed. I looked back down on the beach and every man woman and child had gone stiff. Their eyes had rolled over to nothing but white. After a moment, they all began to sway back and forth and I saw the mouth of the woman start to move as if she was speaking or singing.
All the people who were standing on the pier walked forward and jumped over the railing and into the water below.
Everyone began to walk towards the water, towards a song that I was spared from.
I watched some of the people walk right past the signing woman and vanish under the surface of the water. It was then that I saw it, a quick flash as the water rose and fell with the movement of the people.
I saw below the woman’s waist.
I realized that it was not a woman I was seeing.
It was an appendage.
Below the waist, it resembled a tentacle, a thick veiny strand of gray flesh that stretched back into the water leading to the dark shadow. The still waters of the bay started to boil behind the woman and the water turned a bright red as more and more people disappeared beneath the water.
I started yelling at everyone, but they were in a trance, mesmerized by whatever sound I was unable to hear. They kept marching forward.
I grabbed a length of rope from the deck, and I secured one end to a mooring cleat and jumped off of the boat. I ran to the children first. I scooped up the first one and I cinched her down by a loop around the wrist. I was able to secure four of them to the line that way.
The fog had finally reached the shore, and the face of the woman glowed even brighter in the gloom. One of the eyes was fixed on me at that point. The thing that looked like a woman moved slightly forward and upward, exposing more of the tentacle beneath. The mouth of it began to move wider. It looked like the woman was yelling.
I had every intention of saving more people, but I saw that Eva had started walking back towards the beach; her eyes glazed over and white. More people in the town were walking behind her. The call of the beast was traveling through our entire town.
I looked back toward the thing. While one of its eyes was still fixed on me, the other was looking up the beach, toward Eva.
I ran to Eva and tackled her down in the sand. She was screaming and clawing at me. She raked her fingers down the side of my face,creating ragged trenches in my flesh.
I sat up and cradled her in my arms like a baby.
So many people walked past us, my parents, my family, my friends, everyone I had known my entire life. I cried out to them, but it was no use. I couldn’t do anything.
I tried to rock Eva back and forth to try and calm her down, but I was losing control over her. I could think of only one thing to do.
I pressed one hand against her right ear as tightly as I could and then I pressed my face against the side of hers with my mouth next to her left ear.
I sang to her.
I started shouting it in her ear, hoping I could drown out the song of the beast down in the water. I rocked her back and forth as more people walked past us. I watched the slaughter continue.
The bay was red and there were small bits and chunks floating on the top of the water. The children that I had anchored to the ship were struggling like trapped animals. The eyes of the thing that looked like a woman were now both looking directly at me.
When I came to the end of the song, I started to say all of the things I had always wanted to tell her. I told her all of the things that are too personal to write about here.
They were for her, and only for her.
When I was finished, I sang another song.
She stopped struggling and I felt her hands grab at me and hold me.
I kept singing as we watched the last of our town vanish under the water. The mouth of the woman closed and the face turned to a dull bronze; the light was extinguished. It stared at me for a moment, and then I saw those eyes move toward the children.
The kids had come out of the trance. They were screaming and had run from as far up the beach as the rope allowed them to.
The woman moved backward, away from the beach, until it finally went beneath the water.
I waited
and waited
and waited.
The fog had brought the bitter cold and the air was thick with mist and a faint taste of copper.
I stopped singing and looked down at Eva. She was crying. I kept telling her that it was alright.
She reached up and pulled me down and kissed me.
I was shaking.
“Listen, I need to help the kids.”
She nodded.
I jumped up and ran toward the children.
I reached the first boy and began to release him from the rope.
I saw something break the water. A tentacle rose in the air and hovered above the stern of La Bestia.
It came crashing down on the deck. Large jagged planks flew into the air and the stern buckled and then flattened under the weight. With a force greater than anything I have ever seen, La Bestia was violently jerked back out into the water and the children were pulled back with it.
They screamed and clawed at the wet sand.
In a matter of seconds, I watched the ship and the children as they were dragged under out into the deep.
The dark shape in the water moved away from the bay, and the waves came crashing back.
-
Eva and I never went near the ocean again. We’ve had a happy life together all these years. We never speak of that day, but I think about it often. I never thought I would have to live through one of Captain Castillo’s stories.
Although I was spared from having to hear those children screaming, I still remember their faces as they were dragged away into the deep.