The Man in the Sea

She scanned her eyes across the horizon as the sun began to set. Looking around the beach something caught her eye. A man. Standing ever so still in the shallows of the sea, waves rolling back and forth over his feet. His body hunched over, eyes cast down staring into the sea, staring into the waves, staring. Staring as if this was the first time he had ever encountered such a thing as water, the foamy waves or the sea. She continued to watch him for a while as she played with the warm sand. Picking up handfuls and letting it fall through her fingers. The millions of grains tumbling to earth, falling. The man took a step deeper into the sea. His hesitation and the doubt on his face made her question whether he knew how to swim. she watched him as he took step after step deeper and deeper. The waves crept up his ankles, his shins, his knee. It was just at waist height when he came to a stop. The light was fading and the sand had gotten cold underneath her body. The sea must be freezing, but the man, he wasn't shivering he didn't appear to notice the temperature at all. His eyes continued to stare into the sea, into the waves and the water. His hands skimmed the surface creating the smallest of ripples on the ocean's skin. she saw a slight smile on his face as he took another step further.
The whole scene she was looking at, this curious man in the ocean was addictive. She barley noticed the time or the fact she had three missed calls. She chucked her phone into her bag. Whoever it was could wait. Should she go over? Say something? He took another step until it was over his shoulders. Then she saw something that made her get up and walk over to the shallows where the man entered the water, she threw her shoes and socks behind and started wading in until she was only a few steps away from him. The water was cold, my teeth were chattering. She hadn't been aware of how dark it had become, then she saw a glimmer of the moon peeping out from behind the clouds.
"Hey!" She called.
The rustling of the sea drowned out her shout.
"HEY!"
She didn't know what to expect, would he look? Could he hear her?
He did look. His head turned slowly to face her. He was so young, he wasn't a man at all. She waded as fast as she could, grabbing his freezing hands, wiping the tears that were streaming down his face. She pulled him to her.
"It's OK, its OK come on, it's freezing"
........

It was a while before she could persuade me out of the ocean. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to lose the sensation of the freezing water on my skin. It was numbing and it was just what I needed. She tried to console me for a while. I didn't know whether to push her away, but as soon as her hand glided over my face wiping away the tears something inside me crumbled. And once one brick fell...

I had to coax him out of the sea. He resisted my pull for a while and I didn't know what to do. I worried that if I left him there he may drown, or catch hypothermia. It was well past 7pm so all the life guards had gone home, I thought calling the coast guard would be a bit dramatic. But as I continued to reassure him and gently pull on his arms, he gradually lessened his resistance and then suddenly with the encouragement of the waves he allowed me to guide him back to shore. The sun had been replaced by the moon, the stars were flourishing and the harsh chill in the night air. As we approached the beach I sat him down and ran to get my things. He wouldn't reply to any of my questions, not about where he lived, his name, or his age. 
I  decided to take him home with me, coincidentally my family were on holiday so I wouldn't be bombarded with questions and assertions when I storm in soaking wet accompanied by an unknown soaking wet teenage boy.  
He didn't resist when I led him over to my car. I asked if he wanted to be taken home or to a safe place but he refused to respond. He had yet to look me in the eye. So I drove the long way home, commenting every so often on the area, whether he knew where we were. I drove past my old school told him about the time (insert comical story). Over the twenty minute drive to my house he didn't say one word. I told him we were going to my house and still he said nothing.
When