by Ocean
Devin looked up from the page.
“They sure as shit got that right,” she said.
Rosie nudged her and tapped the paper.
“Shush. Keep reading.”
“Folklore says the island has long been haunted going back to the early 1700’s when a Cuban Shaman cursed two women, Ria and Naomi, trapped their souls into wax dolls and banished them to the island. As the legend goes, one of the women, Naomi, had been the Shaman’s lover. On discovering that Naomi had been unfaithful to her with Ria, the Shaman, known as the Mambo, flew into a fit of rage and performed the curse on the offenders.”
“Well, we know that’s true,” Rosie said.
Devin kept reading.
“Rosie and Devin have quickly become local celebrities. They are the only known people to have survived a night on the island. But also, something extraordinary happened during the twelve hours that they were stranded on Doll Island. For reasons yet unknown, there was a massive explosion, and the resulting raging fire destroyed most of the island, reducing it to little more than charred remains. The women deny knowing anything about the explosion, however, the incident has sparked the curiosity of many who believe they were involved with forces that are beyond human realm. Devin and Rosie have become an international media sensation and are being pursued by radio and television talk shows, movie producers and publishing houses.”
“Shit,” Devin said. “They’re basking in our glory."
"Is there anything else?” Rosie asked.
Devin scanned the article. “Yes. There’s this. 'The women are scheduled to return to the island tomorrow for a photo shoot. Photo opportunities will be available at a hundred dollars per person, the money to be donated to the Key West animal shelter. To reserve your spot, call 777-820-0000.'"
Rosie grabbed Devin’s arm.
“They’ll be on the island. Devin, what's the date on that paper?"
Devin glanced at the paper.
“It’s yesterdays." She looked into Rosie's eyes. "We have to get to that island somehow, today. We are going to get our bodies back.”
32
Face? What face?
The blast of the ship's horn caused them both to jump. A voice boomed over the loudspeaker.
“Approaching Key West. Prepare to disembark.”
Devin jumped up and reached for the zipper of the bag.
“Come on,” she said. “Grab the book. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” Rosie asked as she cradled the book, securing it tightly to her chest.
The man coughed, and they froze. His shoes made a shuffling noise as they scuffed the newspaper that had been thrown on the floor.
“I’m not sure but we got to get out of this case and off this boat,” Devin whispered as she helped Rosie climb out of the bag. She crawled beneath the seat and turned in time to watch in horror as Devin was only half out of the container when the man’s large hand reached down, wrapped around the handle and lifted it off the floor.
“Jump!” Rosie said.
Devin tried jumping but her foot snagged on the broken zipper and she hung awkwardly off the side of the black canvas, her arms swinging awkwardly as she attempted to kick her trapped foot free.
The bag was partially stuck beneath the seat and when the man jerked to free it, Devin tumbled to the floor. She lay stunned on her back. Rosie grabbed Devin's foot and yanked hard, sliding her beneath the seat. They peered up from the shadows and watched as the man, having heard something fall from his bag, paused, and glanced down toward the floor. Devin and Rosie leaned as far back into the shadows as they could.
On seeing the zipper open, a look of confusion flashed across his face. He reached down, zipped the bag securely closed, then followed the line of people that were disembarking from the boat.
“Phew,” Devin exhaled. "That was a close one. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Rosie said. “Now. What’s your plan?”
“Plan?” Devin glanced around. The boat was nearly empty now. “Um, I don’t exactly have one.”
“Well, then I suggest you think of one, quick.”
“We can’t exactly just stroll down the plank way like everyone else.”
“That’s stating the obvious.”
Devin continued searching their surroundings. When her gaze suddenly stopped and fixated on something, Rosie turned to see what had captured her attention.
One of the deckhands was throwing a thick rope to another man who stood on the dock. The rope was quickly secured around a metal cleat, then the men move to the next rope.
“Come on,” Devin said. “That’s our way off.” She ran, bolting from under one seat to the next, shoulders hunched, and head tucked.
Rosie followed her.
“What are you thinking?” Rosie asked.
“We’ll climb down the rope to the dock. There’s no one around. Come on.” Devin grabbed the dangling end of a rope and was about to hoist herself up onto the rail of the ship.
The sensation of panic instantly flooded Rosie.
“Devin, I can’t climb down that rope. What if I fall? You remember what happened on the island. I–”
“Rosie,” Devin dropped the rope and grabbed Rosie by the shoulders. “This is completely different. It’ll be quick and easy. There’s no swamp with snakes below.”
Tentatively, Rosie peered over the side of the boat.
“Only the ocean with sharks.”
“We’re in the harbor, Rosie. Most sharks stay in the ocean, away from the activity of boats and people. And besides, they’re looking for meat and blood. You’re plastic, remember?” She reached for the book. “Give me the book so you’ll have two hands to hold on to the rope. I’ll go first.”
Devin scaled the side of the boat, climbed onto the railing and swung a leg on each side of the rope. Then, holding on to the book with one hand, she pulled herself along the thick cord toward the dock. Each leg wrapped securely around the rope as she scooted, inch by inch.
As Rosie watched, the speed and intensity of her heartbeat increased with each second that ticked by.
How do I get myself into these situations?
When Devin reached the dock, she leapt off the rope and stood with arms wide.
“See? I told you it’d be easy.”
“Easy for you. You’re practically a trapeze artist."
“Come on Rosie. We don’t have any time to waste. We have to make it to Doll Island and get to Ria and Naomi before Satan does, so we can get back into our own bodies.”
The thought of having her own body back filled Rosie with a sense of desire unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. She reached out with both hands, wrapped them tightly around the coarse, woven rope, lay on her belly and stared at the line that stretched out in front of her. At the end of it, stood Devin. Rosie’s heart beat so viciously that it seemed the rope vibrated with each pulse.
“Wrap both legs around the rope,” Devin encouraged. “That’ll keep you stable.”
Rosie inhaled, swallowed hard, then exhaled. She gripped the rope, and mentally instructed her arms to pull. Nothing happened, and she didn't move. She clutched each ankle tighter around the cord and tried again, and this time as she pulled with her arms, she pushed with her legs.
Don’t look down, she told herself.
“Don’t look down,” Devin instructed.
Painfully, tediously, slowly, she moved forward an inch. Again, she willed her arms to tug at the rope and again she moved slightly forward.
Was she still breathing? She couldn’t think about that. All she could think about was making it to Devin without falling off.
“You’re doing great,” Devin said. “I’ll catch you.”
When Rosie was only a few feet from the dock, she glanced down. The water below her was dark, darker than she'd ever knew water could be. The lights from the ship reflected on it and as the waves moved, so did the flashes of light on the top of the water, creating a mesmerizing display. Rosi
e found herself staring, unable to blink or look away. The dots and dashes of lights played on the surface, creating shapes…images…
Suddenly, from beneath the surface, a face appeared. It was a reddish black color. Numerous pointy, white teeth graced inside a wide smile framed by curled black lips. The eyes flashed fiery red.
Hypnotized by the eyes, she felt her heart go cold, and she froze.
"Go!" Her brain demanded but her fingers, hands, and legs refused to follow her command.
“Rosie! Keep moving. You’re almost here!” Devin’s words of encouragement registered but her body wouldn’t respond.
The rope swayed. She closed her eyes. The same nervousness gripped her stomach as when she’d fallen into the swamp on the island. Her palms were sweaty. Short, shallow breaths beat against the rope.
A hand touching her own caused her to flinch. The hand gripped tightly onto hers. Devin’s voice was inches away.
“I got you,” the voice said.
She opened her eyes and there was Devin, on the rope, facing her. She’d crawled the final few feet to meet Rosie and now had a tight grip on Rosie’s hands.
“Come on,” Devin’s voice was calming. “You’re almost there.”
Devin crawled backward, gently pulling and encouraging Rosie until they made it to the dock.
When they stood on the wooden planks, Devin placed a hand on Rosie’s shoulder and gently rubbed it.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
First Rosie nodded. But then she shrugged and shook her head.
“What happened back there?” Devin asked.
“I, I don’t know.” Rosie stepped back, away from the water. “I got a flashback from the time I fell into the swamp. And…” She couldn’t take her eyes off the dark water that shimmered beneath the rope they’d just crossed.
“And?”
Rosie raised her gaze to meet Devin’s.
“And what Rosie?" Devin’s hand slid from Rosie’s shoulder, up her neck and cradled the back of her head.
“Devin. When I looked down, into the water, I saw something.”
“Something? Like what?”
“A face?”
“A face? Who’s face.”
Rosie heard her own voice quiver as she spoke the word.
“Satan.”
33
Let’s make this happen
“Satan?” Devin's hand dropped. “You must be imagining things.”
“That’s what you told me when I first saw a doll on the island, remember?”
“Yeah, well. Anyway, there’s no way you saw Satan’s face in the water. Why would he be down there?”
Anger flashed through Rosie.
"How the hell do I know why Satan would be in the water? Maybe he’s following us.”
Devin picked up the book.
"Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to doubt you, it's just…"
"What? It just seems impossible that Satan would follow us? Think about it, Devin. We both want the same thing. Well, kind of, but not exactly. He wants the souls of Ria and Naomi, and we want the bodies."
A chill ran through Rosie, and she ran her palms up and down each arm.
A long sigh escaped from Devin. She glanced toward the moon and handed Rosie the book.
“Okay, listen. You have to try to forget what you saw. Right now, we need to focus on getting to that island before sunrise.”
“And how are we going to get there Devin?”
Devin rubbed her chin.
“The same way we got there the first time. We'll steal a boat.”
34
Full speed ahead!
The almost full moon alternated between shining brightly as it peaked through a break in the clouds and being completely hidden as large shadows of gray floated in front of it, eliminating most of the light. Based on the lack of people walking around, Rosie guessed it was after midnight, most likely sometime in the early morning hours. They wouldn’t have much time. If they were going to make it to the island and get their bodies back, they’d need to do it quickly, otherwise, they'd have to wait until tomorrow night, and by then, who knows where Ria and Naomi would be.
“Come on, hurry,” Devin said, “let’s hope we find a boat with a key in it.”
She ran toward one of the nearby docks. A row of small motorboats gently swayed with the incoming waves. The air was heavy with a misty sea-salt moisture that coated everything with a thin layer of dampness.
“You check that side of the dock, and I'll check this one. Look inside each boat and let me know if you find one that has a key in it," Devin instructed then turned and ran down the dock. She’d stop momentarily in front of each boat before trotting off toward the next one.
Rosie ran along the opposite side of the wooden pier, although how she moved could hardly be called a run. With her short doll legs and cumbersome nun’s dress, her movement more resembled that of a waddle.
There was no key in the first boat, nor the second. She gathered up the long skirt to allow her legs to move faster and kept searching.
"Rosie, I found one!" Devin's voice was high pitched with enthusiasm.
Rosie hustled across the dock. Devin was busy untying a rope from the cleat that secured the vessel to the wooden deck.
“Get in." Devin strained as she pulled the boat closer to make it easier for Rosie to step onto the small platform located on the back of the boat.
When Rosie was in, Devin tossed the rope into the boat, jumped onto the platform and with a loud grunt, pushed it away from the dock. Slowly and silently, they drifted from the pier.
"Are you going to be able to drive it?” Rosie asked. "Can you see over the steering wheel?"
"Here, help me." Devin grabbed a life jacket and dragged it toward the Captain's chair. "I'll pile a few of these on the seat and stand on them. I'll steer while you control the speed."
"The speed?" Rosie said. "How do I do that? I've never driven a boat before. I have no…"
"It's easy, watch. I'll show you. Climb up here.” Devin patted the top of one of the life jackets that was on the Captain’s chair.
Rosie climbed up and assumed a position to the right of Devin. Devin stood on a life jacket and clutched the round wooden wheel for support. She pointed to a lever located next to the steering wheel.
"That's the throttle. All you have to do is push it away from you if you want the boat to go faster and pull it toward you if you want it to go slower. Easy, right?"
Rosie stared at the lever.
"I guess, I don't…"
"Ready?" Devin turned the key in the ignition. The deep thumping of the engine fired up. A smile flashed across Devin's face and although she was in a foreign body, Rosie recognized that smile.
"Okay, Rosie. Give her some gas." Devin stood on her tiptoes and peered over the top of the steering wheel.
Rosie pushed the lever with all her might. The boat jerked forward. The front of the boat lifted out of the water and if it could, seemed it would take off airborne. Devin and Rosie flew backward, tumbled off the seat, landed on the floor of the boat, and rolled.
"Shit!" Devin screamed as her body slammed into the back of the boat. The momentum carried Rosie back and pressed her against the bottom of one of the seats. As the boat raced forward, bouncing through the tops of waves, Devin managed to get up and make her way back to the Captain's chair. She climbed up and pulled back on the throttle. The roar of the engine decreased to a steady purr, and the boat slowed.
"Damn, Rosie," she said.
Rosie stood.
"I'm sorry. I told you I never drove a boat before." She brushed water from her backside.
"Okay, that's okay," Devin said. "We can do this. Come on back up. We'll try it again."
Rosie returned to her place by the throttle.
"When you want to give it gas, do it slowly, okay? Just a little at a time."
Rosie nodded.
"All right." Devin gripped the steering wheel with both hands. "Let's go to Doll Island
and get our bodies back."
35
Returning to the scene of the…
The boat cut effortlessly through the waves and soon the lights of the island of Key West were a thin row decorating the horizon behind them. Salty sea air sprayed their faces and blew their veils and robes back.
“How do you know which direction to go?” Rosie asked.
“I remember when we were on Doll Island that the moon rose in the east, so I’m keeping the moon behind us. Also, I remember when we were on the tour boat trip, there were no other islands in this direction. I’m pretty sure we’ll easily bump into the island. Keep your eyes peeled and let me know if you see anything.”
Rosie strained to see through the dim night but all she could make out was dark waves. She turned to speak when a large winged bird swooped over the boat.
Rosie screamed, “Ack! A pterodactyl! Oh, good gravy, now we have flying dinosaurs to deal with?”
Devin laughed. “Rosie, that’s a pelican. Awesome. That means there’s land around here somewhere. Keep looking.”
“Devin, what will happen if…” She saw it. A light. A dim, twinkling light, off in the distance. She pointed. “Devin! There. A light. See it?”
Devin turned her head in the direction Rosie pointed, squinted, then turned the wheel sharply in the same direction. The boat took a steep turn.
“Yes,” Devin said. “It looks like a fire, most likely a campfire. With any luck, they’re spending the night on the island.”
“Why would they?” Rosie asked. “I sure as heck wouldn’t after what we, they, I mean we, whatever, after what happened there.”
“You know how reporters are. It’ll add suspense to the story. Shots of the women on the island at night. Reliving what happened to them.”
“That’s crazy. They know the island is haunted.”
“I can only hope it’s them. If they’re not on that island, who knows where they are or how we’ll find them.”