Tia and the Thing in the Cave

Tia arrives at great speed with urgent news: there is something in the cliff. Inside a hidden chamber, Prince Freddie finds a seal pup trapped in a cave, waiting for the tide to fall.

Tia arrived at great speed. With Tia this didn’t always mean urgency. Most things arrived the same way.

She was the dog from the cottage past the lighthouse, long-legged, with ears that moved independently of each other. They appeared to be consulting separate committees.

“There is something in the cliff,” she said, and turned immediately to lead the way, because she was already quite confident he would come.

She was right. He followed.

The crack was beyond the headland, further along than Prince Freddie usually went. The cliff face met the shore at a complicated angle. The rock had split over a long time into a fissure about the width of a medium-sized dog. Tia went through it sideways, efficiently. Freddie turned sideways and went through. His crown tilted against the rock. He emerged into the dim space beyond.

It was a chamber. A high ceiling, wet walls that caught the light from a gap above, smooth dark stone. In the centre, a pool of water, connected to the sea by a submerged passage that Freddie could smell even before he saw it. The air was completely still. The sound from outside (the waves, the wind, the usual business of the coast) had gone.

On the far edge of the pool was a flat ledge of rock above the waterline. A seal pup lay there with its head on its flippers. It looked at them with the expression of someone waiting longer than expected.

Freddie went still. He put his nose down to the stone floor, then to the air above the pool, then to the damp edge of the passage. The scent of the open sea on its coat. The channel smelled of trapped water.

“It came in when the water was higher,” Freddie said. “The passage will open again when the tide drops. Two hours, perhaps less.”

“What do we do?” Tia said.

“You,” Freddie said, “go up the cliff path to where you can see the outside of the headland. There is a flat rock at the base where the water gets down to in low tide. When you can see it, come back.”

Tia was already turning. “And you?”

“I stay here,” Freddie said.

She went back through the crack. Freddie heard her footsteps across the rock, quick and receding, and then nothing.

He sat down on the dry stone floor, a comfortable distance from the pup, and looked at it. It looked at him. Its eyes were dark and very round.

The chamber held still. A column of grey-white light from the gap above. Freddie could hear the movement of water in the passage below the pool.

The pup made a small sound. Not distress. Something more like comment.

“I know,” Freddie said.

Time passed.

Tia came back at speed, slightly out of breath.

“The flat rock is showing,” she said. “Half of it.”

“Good,” Freddie said. He watched the pool. The waterline was dropping: he could see the mark it had left on the walls, the pool surface now an inch below. As they waited, the submerged passage began to show, dark against the stone, widening.

The pup lifted its head. It had noticed.

The pup moved to the edge of the ledge, slid into the pool, and was through the passage. A disturbance in the water. Then nothing.

Tia looked at the empty ledge.

“That’s it?” she said.

“That’s it,” Freddie said.

They came back through the crack. The light and sound of the coast came at once after the quiet.

“I found a good place,” Tia said.

“You did,” Freddie said.

They walked back along the base of the cliff together, the long way. The evening was good and neither was in a hurry. At the point where their routes divided, Tia peeled off toward the lighthouse. Her speed started before she had fully committed to the direction. This was simply how she moved through the world.

Freddie went to the cottage. He came through the garden gate and went inside.

His human had made bread. The kitchen was warm with it.

Freddie ate his supper and went to the bed. His legs were tired.

He circled once, twice, three times. Then he lay down onto his chest, front paws forward. His tail rested against the back of his human’s knee.

Along the coast, the cliff face opened onto a chamber. The tide breathed in and out. The ledge above the pool was empty and dry.

The End

Rest well, Prince Freddie. In the cliff, the cave breathes in and out with the tide. The ledge is dry and quiet.

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