Innsmouth Nightmares

  Two years later we were together again.

  After hugging each other hard enough to make our ribs creak, we went through ten minutes of studying each other with little glances and from the corner of the eye and we started walking.

  The boardwalk in Golden Cove is perfect. It’s one of those places designed to look like it belongs to the early part of the last century, while carefully hiding all of the modern conveniences.

  Lianne could tell me the whole history of the city and she had a few times. She had fallen in love with the place and I could see why. The roads were twisting, serpentine messes that went nowhere or circled back on themselves instead of going in anything like a straight line. As she had always loved mazes she surely felt like she was coming home. The town had been razed back in the twenties. Years and years later some corporate types decided it needed to be rebuilt and spent a few million making it happen. The end result was Golden Cove.

  Despite the screwy layout, it had a lot of charm. It also had Lianne, which meant I was immediately fond of it.

  “The problem with your buffets,” she told me, “is that the seafood isn’t fresh. It doesn’t get fresher than straight off the boat.” She pointed and I saw the restaurant she had been moving us toward. It was at the end of one of the three piers along the boardwalk and looked as new and shiny as all of the other structures around it. Behind the place I could see a few boats that were docked and unloading bins filled with ice and fish.

  Painted on the side of the single story house-like structure was a mermaid with an incredibly long tail and red hair to match.

  I looked at the painting as we walked closer. The mermaid should have been pretty, but there was something off about the features. Eyes too large, lips too broad, nothing I could easily place. Despite the unattractive face I could admire the craftsmanship that had gone into the painting. Written under the illustration in elaborate script were the words The Sea Hag.

  I guess that explained the unusual looks.

  “Nice place,” what else could I say?

  “Don’t be that way. Come inside and sit with me and have food. You won’t regret it.” She smiled and I melted a bit. Not that I’d planned on saying, no, in any case. I’d driven close to three hours and I’d have driven a lot farther. Besides, I wasn’t the one who didn’t like seafood.

  “I’m just not sure that would have been the name I picked for a restaurant.” I was grinning when I said it and she took it in the nature it was meant.

  “Whatevs, Richie.”

  There was exactly one person on the planet I ever let call me Richie.

  Despite the nearly perfect weather, despite the amazing view, there weren’t very many people in the restaurant. It was a little after two in the afternoon, so that didn’t surprise me all that much.

  The hostess was a frumpy looking woman in her mid-fifties who apparently was the model for the mermaid out front. Red hair, bulging eyes and all, but she was pleasant enough.

  The waiter was much younger and dressed in what I always thought of as a poor man’s tux. Black slacks, black suit, and a tuxedo shirt with a bowtie that I had no doubt was a clip-on.

  I had the same sort of outfit in my closet at home, because saving up for a car had meant working at a job. College was paid for by the same job, and I was glad of it. We looked over the menu, and I listened with mild awe as Lianne ordered scallops au gratin and lobster bisque as a starter. I ordered the same. When in doubt, trust the locals to know the best food. The rolls they set down were drowning in garlic and butter, and I would have never considered eating them but Lianne attacked them and that meant she’d have bad breath, too. Besides, I had breath mints for just such emergencies.

  While we waited, we talked. More accurately, she talked and I listened. Lianne asked me endless questions and I answered them in something of a daze. I hadn’t seen her in so damned long, and being with her, looking into her eyes and seeing her smile, it was enough to make me fall for her all over.

  I’d told myself that I’d keep my calm when I saw her. I promised myself a dozen times that no matter what happened, I was not going to let myself bleed for her again. It was one thing to want to be friends with her and another thing entirely to see her. On the phone, online, we could be friends and I could keep my heart well away from her, but in person I felt like I was Superman exposed to kryptonite. She was the source of all my strength. She made me horribly weak.

  After we’d finished eating Lianne patted her washboard abs and stood up. “Right back,” she looked around and spotted the sign for the restrooms. “Nature calls.”

  “Pee for me, will ya?”

  She shook her head and smiled that same old, amazing smile before heading away. I admit I spent the time doing my best to memorize the way her hips moved.

  And while I was watching her walk away, the redhead came over and looked at me.

  “You have it bad for that one.” Her voice was soft. She was smart enough not to talk that way and share it with Lianne, even by accident.

  I looked at her. I’d thought she was unattractive before, but she wasn’t. She was, at worst, plain. She was also either younger than I had thought, or the shadows in the room took off a few decades. I’d have said no older than thirty on a second viewing.

  “That obvious?” What can you do when you’re confronted with the truth? I could have lied, or gotten indignant, but no. She had me dead to rights and now and then it’s nice to admit truths to strangers. Easier, I guess, than telling the truth to the people you love.

  The redhead’s eyes glittered in the odd light. I think we’d spent longer in there than I’d given credit for, because the sun was on the way down and the light had taken on a reddish hue that accented the woman’s hair.

  “We all do it a few times, don’t we?” It wasn’t really a question, but I nodded anyway.

  “I shouldn’t have come here.” I didn’t really mean for the words to pop out, but they did. I’d had one glass of wine with our late lunch, not because I liked wine, but because Lianne was doing it and it seemed a good notion at the time. I guess it had been enough to make me chatty.

  “Why not?”

  I shook my head as I looked at the opening leading to the restrooms. “I was almost over her. Again.”

  My ears rang with a bright, clear note. I squinted because the sunlight was exactly too bright and that damned noise was loud enough to distract me.

  And the redhead was leaning over, close enough that I could feel her breath against my face. I looked her way, only moderately surprised that she was so close, her lips inches from my ear, her breath warm and salty against the side of my face.

  “She could be yours, you know. For a price.”

  The words were conversational, as if she were chatting about the weather. I looked at her and really studied her face. Her skin was fine and dusted with freckles. Her face was broader than Lianne’s, and her features were very different, but not at all unpleasing. I wondered where I’d ever gotten the idea that she was older. She was late twenties, tops, and that appearance might have only been caused by the wind on her flesh season after season. Coastal living could be harsh, especially in New England.

  “I don’t have much in my account.” I tried to make a joke of it. My ears still rang, and my eyes threatened to water as I squinted against the sun’s light.

  “You are known to me, Richard.” I looked into her eyes. They were the most amazing shade of gray, like the sea when a storm is coming in. “I know your family name, and I know your family.”

  I admit I wasn’t taken by surprise. My family is well known. They’ve been involved in Massachusetts politics for a very long time. Judges, mayors, a governor, and enough influence in Boston to make most people glad to stay on our good side. My branch of the family was as well off as any, but my parents had no intention of giving me an easy start. I had to earn my way through college and earn my way in life before I got anything.

  I was okay with that. It stopped me from being too
stupid. See, if I’d had money, I would have gleefully given the redhead whatever she wanted if it meant Lianne would be mine. My parents knew me that well, I guess.

  I shook my head, trying to stop the damned ringing. “I barely have enough to pay for this meal.”

  Her lips brushed my ear. My head was pounding, and my eyes ached. My ears kept singing notes inside my skull that echoed until I could barely think, but I felt a warmth run through me just the same when her lips touched my earlobe and my body reacted as surely as if she’d offered herself to me.

  “Not every payment requires cash, young Richard.”

  I opened my mouth to say something. I would like to claim it was a protest, but in that moment I’m not sure that was even close to the truth.

  She kissed me hard and deep and I felt her tongue brush past my teeth. My skull was ready to split but she didn’t care. Her hand pulled at the buckle of my belt and I moaned into her mouth and

  2.

  It was a damned peculiar little daydream, and I snapped myself out of it.

  I drank the rest of my wine and shook my head. Lianne was heading back from the restrooms and I stood up, desperate to relieve myself. My bladder ached as much as my head had for a moment.

  The sun was back where it belonged and no longer trying to spear my eyes from their usual resting place.

  “Trend setter,” I said. “See what you started?”

  Lianne studied me for a long second and then smiled as brightly as I have ever seen her smile.

  “Don’t get lost on the way.”

  The good news was the men’s room was clearly marked. My headache was gone. The ringing in my ears was a thing of the past.

  The dowdy redhead was wiping down the long oak bar and barely noticed me as I passed her. I resisted the temptation to shake my head at the notions that had gone through it. She was hardly my type and probably old enough to be my mother.

  When I came back from the restroom, she was gone.

  Lianne had pulled a fast one and paid the bill while I was gone. Despite my best arguments, she refused to let me compensate her.

  The plan for the day had been simple enough. Walk, talk, and get to know each other again.

  Somehow we wound up walking all the way back to my hotel room.

  Here’s the way I had planned this. I had a week in town. I’d spend as much time with Lianne as she could tolerate. Then around day six, I’d make a comment about how well we seemed to fit together. In my mind’s eye, that would lead to a discussion about how neither of us was seeing anyone and how, maybe, after all these damned years of dancing around the notion, we should try being together.

  I was graduating college. I had enough connections that honestly, it wasn’t going to take much of an effort for me to find a job, and hell, I’d even go crazy and move to Golden Cove if that was what she wanted. She could be near her family. We could be together.

  I figured, in my special dreams, that in day seven we’d have the long and serious discussions, and in a perfect world, we would be an item at last. All my patience would have paid off.

  The reality was a bit different.

  We stopped long enough to buy a twelve pack of beer at the Milk Jug convenience store. There wasn’t really much discussion about it. We were too busy catching up on old times, discussing who we’d run across from high school and where. Mostly we ran across them on Facebook and mostly they were being idiots. I was really amazed at how much drama people were willing to put about themselves in a public forum.

  The sun really was setting this time around, and we settled outside the room for a while and then went inside.

  Five minutes after I closed the hotel room door, we were on the king-sized bed and shoving my suitcase to the floor, where it spilled out all of my clothes in a rain of cotton blend entrails.

  Once again, there was no real discussion. Things just progressed.

  Part of me wanted to slow down. Most of me thought that was the dumbest idea I’d ever had.

  The majority won.

  3.

  Three months passed, and then it was six. In no time at all, I had spent most of a year in Golden Cove. My beliefs about family connections proved true enough. I was hardly a mover or a shaker, but I wrangled a job at the mayor’s offices without much difficulty. The job was not exciting. It didn’t need to be. What it needed to be was a good excuse to stay near Lianne, and it handled that task very well indeed.

  Part of my duties simply came down to procuring new sources of revenue for the town. Golden Cove made a living as a tourist spot. It had been built on the ruins of old, abandoned Innsmouth and been given new life and since then it had thrived, but there was every reason to believe that it could do even better.

  There were several companies interested in investing, and that was where I came in. Lunches with the right people, shaking hands and telling tales about how wonderful the town was. That might have been hard for some people, but Lianne had rubbed off on me. She loved Golden Cove, and as an extension, I now loved it.

  Mike Marshall was with a British investment group that was looking to expand to the United States. One of the aspects they found fascinating was the very notion of creating pre-made towns for tourism. As a result he was visiting Golden Cove, and we were discussing the ways in which his firm and the Golden Cove Limited—better known to most people as the town council—might work together on new projects.

  Because he wanted fresh seafood, we wound up at The Sea Hag. The place had not changed, and after ten minutes of sipping at drinks in the bar, they found a spot for us.

  Lianne and I ate there a lot of nights, but I was seldom there for the lunch rush. I was rather surprised when I saw the redhead. She looked much the same as she had the last time I’d run across her; in her fifties, tired and not nearly as pretty as she’d been in my one preposterous fantasy.

  She also looked heavy with child. As in very pregnant.

  She barely acknowledged my existence. I did my best not to do a spit take with my beer when I realized how far along she was. There was a nasty voice in the back of my head that wondered how she could even get pregnant at her age. I’ll be honest and admit another voice wondered who would ever even consider her as a partner. I’m not proud of that voice, but it was there. That one shut down even faster when I remembered my fantasy. I stopped being much of a drinker after I graduated high school. The entire mess lost its appeal around the same time I had to start paying my own way in the world.

  One glass of wine does not normally leave me fantasizing. That cynical voice told me it must have been a helluva vintage every time I thought about the intense fantasies that single glass had facilitated.

  Mike stood up and looked around for a moment. Before he could ask, I pointed to the alcove that hid the restrooms.

  He smiled his thanks and headed that way, and I signaled the waiter. I wanted to pay the tab before he got back.

  The redhead came over and placed her hands on the edge of the table.

  I looked at her and tried to smile. Her skin was patchy and her hair looked unkempt. I knew just looking at her that it was the pregnancy. Some women are supposed to glow when they are with child. Some don’t glow. They look sickly, like they’re fighting off a cold, or supporting a parasitic life form that is sucking all the vitality from them. Maybe that sounds harsh, but it’s my observation and I’m sticking to it.

  “She’s happy with you now, isn’t she? Your girl who didn’t love you back?”

  I blinked at that. The words were from a conversation we’d had, yes, but the conversation had been a part of my daydream and nothing more.

  She smiled at me. Her teeth were a nightmare of uneven and yellowed dental opportunities. Her eyes were the same. That much was true. The same stormy gray I’d seen before.

  That ringing came back to my ears, so sudden that it was painful enough to make me wince. I closed my eyes and looked away for a moment as bright flares erupted behind my closed lids.

  “They’ll go
away in time.”

  “What will?” I didn’t want to sound rude, but my eyes ached, my head hurt, my ears wouldn’t stop keening out that singular note.

  “The side effects.”

  I opened my eyes and made myself look at her. She was young again, and lovely, and her belly was out in front of her, heavy with child.

  “What are you talking about?” My voice faded a bit as I looked at her. Had I thought for even a moment she was suffering in her pregnancy? She was more alive and vital than most women I’d ever seen. The pregnancy agreed with her. She had a glow of vigor about her.

  “They’ll be fine, healthy lads.” She touched the swell of her stomach. “Strong boys to keep up the family line.”

  I frowned. Why would I care at all about her children?

  I said nothing. I had no possible response for her.

  “Our children, Richard. Our fine, strong boys.”

  I blinked my eyes and shook my head.

  “Come back again in a few months, Richard. We can do this again. We can make new deals for your prosperity and happiness. You want to be happy, don’t you, Richard? You and your fine young lady? Come again, Richard, and we’ll make everything happily ever after.”

  When I opened my eyes, Mike was coming my way and smiling cordially enough. The redhead, dour and obviously uncomfortable, waddled toward the Staff Only sign past the restrooms.

  My headache was gone again.

  I managed a smile for Mike, though truth be told, I was feeling a bit sickly.

  Another hour of pleasant conversation and our business was concluded. Papers were signed and there were handshakes.

  An hour after that, I was dropping Mike off at his hotel and wishing him a safe trip.

  The company was pleased, of course. Sometimes it felt like I could do no wrong.

  Lianne was happy to hear about the deal for a couple of reasons. First, because anything that makes Golden Cove successful makes her happy. She loves the town and wants to see it succeed. Second, because I’d already told her that, if the deal went through, there was going to be mighty handsome bonus for me. A bonus, and possibly a promotion.