The Tide-Taker's Toll (Oral History Transcript)

Folklore

[00:00:12] (Sound of a heavy wooden door closing; wind howls briefly before the click of a latch) ELIAS: Just start from the beginning. The recording is running. MAEVA: (sharp exhale) I don't see the use in it. The young'uns think the sea is a bathtub. They don't hear the callin'. [00:00:34] (The crackle of a peat fire; the rhythmic, muffled thumping of surf against cliffs) ELIAS: You mentioned the voices. How do they differ from real people? MAEVA: They don't, lad. That's the trick of it. It takes the shape of a sound you've missed. A mother's hum; a brother's laugh. But there's a... a hollow to it. Like a shell holdin' the wind. [00:01:05] (A long pause; the sound of a tea cup rattling against a saucer) MAEVA: I remember when Old Silas went. He heard his girl, the one the fever took ten years prior. He didn't even put on his boots. Just walked right out the door in his nightshirt, followin' that sweet, thin voice into the foam. ELIAS: Did anyone else hear it? MAEVA: (dry chuckle) Only Silas. The Tide-Taker don't shout to the crowd; it whispers to the lonely. It finds the hole in your heart and fills it with a lie. [00:02:18] (The wind picks up; a windowpane rattles in its frame) ELIAS: Is it still there? MAEVA: (voice lowering) Listen. (silence for five seconds; only the distant, rhythmic crash of the tide) It's always there, Elias. It's just waitin' for the tide to turn.