The Summer of Lost Wishes

by Jessa Gabrielle

  I keep my distance so I don’t interrupt their work. Rooks tosses a smile in my direction but continues helping his dad. Mac walks over and sits on the front step, sipping on water from a thermos.

  “What do you think?” he asks, motioning toward the Carters. “The fence, I mean.”

  I crack up because this old dude totally knew I wasn’t looking at the fence.

  “It’s great,” I say. “Looks a lot like the one by the sand dunes, so I’d say you guys hit the mark pretty well.”

  Mac readjusts the baseball cap he’s wearing and chugs some of his water. I wonder if he was here when the tragedy happened. He’s probably in the right age group to have known Seth or Hanna.

  “Are you going to the Town Hall memorial party?” I ask, hoping I can ease into the conversation without it being obvious that I’m really digging up skeletons.

  He shakes his head. “It’s the same thing year after year,” he tells me. “Champagne. Socializing. Using a tragedy for a reason to drink and party. I went to a few before, but once I realized what it was, I thought those kids probably wouldn’t want their lives to be remembered in that way.”

  I completely stand behind his statement. Seth McIntosh would definitely not want his memory to be associated with drinking champagne at Town Hall. Hanna, I’m not so sure about, but I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt. Even a princess wants to be remembered honorably.

  “Were you friends with them?” I ask.

  He quickly shakes his head. “Oh, no. I didn’t even live here until many years after that,” he explains. “I joined the Navy, was stationed in Texas for a while, did a stint in Japan, worked some odd jobs, re-enlisted, remained stateside, and eventually went into carpentry because the Navy life got old after a while.”

  My heart sinks a little. I was hoping Mac was a Coral Sands native who could tell me what Seth was like at school or if Warren really wanted to go into the seafood business as planned. He could’ve told me how Hanna reacted to being named homecoming queen or told me which sports Raymond Hartley played. Bummer.

  “Were you from a military family?” I ask, even though I’m only partially interested. I want to cover my tracks better than Frank the fisherman has.

  He nods and takes another swig of his water. “My dad was a Navy man, always liked the water,” he says, looking across the yard. “I guess that’s why I retired here. I wanted something near the ocean, with good seafood, in a quieter place. None of those busy party towns. I didn’t know about Shark Island when I moved here or I might’ve gone elsewhere.”

  “Do you have a theory?” I ask him. I can’t help it. I’m taking a page out of the seafood industry’s book and dropping the bait. “Why do you think they went out there that night?”

  Mac stares at me, almost like he’s hesitant of what to say or that he’s shocked I just asked him such a thing. But his face softens and he looks like he’s in thought, either coming up with a theory or changing up what he really thinks because he doesn’t want to tell me the true gruesomeness in his mind. He probably thinks it was foul play, just like Rooks does.

  “Honestly, I think they were just dumb kids looking for some fun,” Mac says. “Things were different back then. We didn’t have the options that you kids have today. They probably just wanted to do something rebellious and fun before graduation, and it literally came back to bite them. Excuse the terrible pun.”

  “So getting out on the ocean and visiting shark-infested waters was considered fun back then?” I question.

  Mac shakes his head and laughs an inaudible laugh. “That’s one of those mysteries that we’ll never solve,” he says. “My best guess is that they thought they could outrun the storm.”

  With that, he stands and swallows the last bit of his water before joining the Carters back at the fence. Rooks glances back at me, but I go inside to help Mom finish packing items for her party. I need something to get my mind off of the tragedy for a bit.

  I think Mac has reasoned what happened just like everyone else has. It was an accident. It was tragic. No one knows why they went, but they were teenagers who were reckless and excited about their futures. Or at least that’s what people are led to believe. People who weren’t here, like Mac, don’t know any differently than what they’ve heard over the years.

  But I know better because Seth himself told me, even if he doesn’t know it. I can’t fathom why he’d get on a boat destined for Shark Island when he was planning on dumping the girl and breaking her heart. It does actually seem suspicious. Why risk his own life? Or his friends’ lives? Did he really feel the need to stage an accident to be with Rosa?

  I can’t accept that. Seth just doesn’t seem like the type. Maybe they weren’t supposed to go to Shark Island. Maybe the storm sent them out there. I don’t know why he’d enlist his friends to go with him to break up with Hanna, but maybe this night wasn’t meant to be the break up night. Maybe this was an outing with friends that went awry. Hanna may have never known that Seth loved someone else. In a way, I hope she didn’t find out. I’m Team Rosa, but I don’t think Seth wanted to hurt Hanna. He definitely didn’t intend on killing her.

  I shut the front door behind me, wait a moment to soak in the air conditioning, and then walk into the dining room where Mom has a craft store sprawled across our new table.

  “How can I help?” I ask.

  Rosa’s Final Letter

  I’m sorry. We can’t do this. I can’t do this. This is all wishful dreaming. I know you can’t leave Hanna because the consequences are too much. I know you want to and believe that you can, but it’s never that simple. I know your family isn’t going to let this happen. You will marry Hanna soon, and all the things we hoped for will be lost with this summer. But in this moment, in these dying embers of spring, we will always exist.

  I’m returning your letters because I know if I hold on to them, I’ll never truly be able to let go and move on. You will find them tied to this letter. Please do not reach out to me because I know how this story ends, and I’m the one who’ll be hurt. I do love you, but I can’t do this anymore.

  Thank you for giving me these last few months. Thank you for believing in my dreams with me, for wanting to go there with me. I will never walk past the Crane Pavilion without thinking of our time together and the large portion of my heart that belongs to you and only you.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Damn,” Rooks whispers, staring the last letter. “I can’t believe she backed out. I just knew it would be him if either of them did. I had faith in Ms. Rosa going out into the world and conquering it.”

  He folds the letter and hands it back to me. Then he leans his head back against the headrest in his truck, like he always does when he’s thinking or frustrated.

  I tilt my head to look at him. “Seriously? She never left Coral Sands,” I remind him. “She took over the family restaurant, married, had kids, the whole deal. She lived the life she was supposed to live. She did the very thing she didn’t want to do.”

  This conversation would probably be much more intense if I weren’t dressed like a flamingo. Rooks wears a dark red button-up shirt under his jacket. It matches the red and orange hues in his dark mask. He’s definitely a phoenix rising from the ashes, and I’d let him take my soul in a heartbeat. He’s absolutely beautiful.

  “I wonder if that’s why the accident happened, if Seth was distracted or angry,” he says.

  I hold up my hand to stop him. “No,” I say. “We’re not going there. Seth McIntosh is innocent. I know you don’t fully believe it, but I feel it, like in my veins. I will fight in his honor because he’s not here to do it for himself.”

  “Okay, okay,” Rooks says in surrender. “So what if he got these letters back, completely shut down, and his friends wanted to go out for a joyride to cheer him up? He probably lied and said he was just sad about graduating or something, not ready to be an adult, whatever. And then it really was an accident?”

  I huff out a sigh, making sure it has
dramatic flair. “That’s the worst theory yet,” I say.

  He sits up quickly, straightening his back. “What?” he asks. “That’s the most logical thing I’ve come up with.”

  “Exactly,” I admit. “That’s why I hate it.”

  He scoots closer to me and wraps his arm around me, hugging me close to him.

  “Piper, I know you’ve gotten attached to Seth and Rosa, and I know you want their story to have a happy ending, but we both know that didn’t happen,” he says.

  I don’t want to give in to the sadness. Now that I’ve finished reading the letters, I know that they’re over. I know that Rosa moved on, married someone else, and had a family. She lived a life that maybe she hadn’t dreamed of, but she seems happy enough or content enough, anyway.

  I just hate the thought of Seth reading that final letter, being given back all of his words, and then ending up in the mouth of Jaws. There’s no way his ending could be happy or even peaceful. I’m living in the home he was meant to live in. I’ve been reading his journey from the moment he saw Rosa on the carousel’s camel. He deserved better than what this town has given him, and here I am, in a flamingo mask, pretending like I’m here to honor him.

  “I don’t feel right about this,” I say, leaning into Rooks. “Mac was right. This isn’t how Seth or Hanna or Warren or any of them would want to be remembered. I even get why Frank hates my mom and me. This town has turned them into a gimmick.”

  Rooks runs his fingers through my hair and then cups my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. He pulls the flamingo mask off of my face and sets it on the dashboard next to his phoenix mask.

  “Then let’s not celebrate a gimmick tonight,” he says, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Tonight is about celebrating their lives, so we are going to go in there, look good, and do it in honor of Seth and Rosa. We’re going to celebrate the fact that he got to meet the girl of his dreams and spend a few weeks with her before he died. Some people never have that, but he did.”

  For a moment, I don’t even care that Rooks has spent this summer convinced that Seth might’ve been behind the accident, even if it was unintentional. The streetlights in the parking lot reflect in his eyes, and I know he’s right. We have to do this for Seth and Rosa, to honor the little time they had together, because no one else is here for them.

  “For Seth and Rosa,” I say.

  Rooks leans in, fingers tangled in my hair, and kisses me.

  It’s like someone built a time machine and sent us back to 1965, like it’s days before the great Shark Island tragedy, and everyone is blissfully unaware that doom is lurking around the rocks. A photographer snaps photos near a giant backdrop with shimmery curtains. Did we seriously just transport to a 1960s prom?

  Laughter and music fill the air. We ease through the crowd, not really looking for anyone in particular. Mayor Rhodes stands behind a table, serving champagne and sparkling cider. She laughs with guests, thanking them for coming out to honor her Aunt Eileen’s memory along with the friends she lost that night. I wonder how often she plays the ‘I’m the niece of Eileen Baker’ card. Note to self: Never play the ‘I live in the Calloway Cottage’ card.

  Twinkle lights glisten around the grand room, and tables upon tables of food and refreshments line the walls. It’s all so incredibly unfitting for what tonight is about. I don’t care if we’re celebrating their lives instead of mourning their deaths. It’s inappropriate.

  Rooks takes my hand, and we walk into the next room. Rosa stands behind a table of Mexican hors d’oeuvres, catered directly from Casa Garcia. Her granddaughter, Hector’s younger sister, is with her, twirling in circles and dancing with Rosa. She’s the one person I won’t be angry toward for dancing tonight. Seth would’ve wanted her to dance.

  “I see you made it,” Hector says, approaching us from the left. He wears a black jacket and a Phantom of the Opera-style mask. Typical.

  “Glad you guys could come,” Natalie says. She sounds like her mom. I bet she’s been trained to say all the right things at events like this.

  Her dress is green and yellow. It’s puffy, like a ball gown, with gemstones and sequins embedded on the upper part of the dress. It looks heavy, like a pageant dress. Her green and yellow butterfly mask matches perfectly. I bet it’s custom-made.

  “I have to make the rounds,” Natalie says, looking away toward her mom. “The chief of police just arrived, and he always donates to Mom’s campaigns, so I have to go play nice.”

  Hector doesn’t follow her. He waits until she’s out of earshot before he talks.

  “This blows, man,” he says to Rooks. “I have better things I could be doing tonight than standing around here, pretending like I care about the anniversary, but it’s been fifty years. Let’s just put them to rest already.”

  I remind myself that he has to listen to the tragedy talk all the time with Natalie’s family. He’s bitter and jaded and ‘so over it,’ but he has no clue how much it’s tied to his own story. If Seth hadn’t died that night, Rosa may not have married Hector’s grandfather. Hector’s dad wouldn’t have been born, and therefore, Hector wouldn’t be standing here in the middle of Town Hall bitching about a fifty-year anniversary.

  Hector sighs. “Let me go play the role of a good boyfriend,” he says. “I’ll catch you in a little while.”

  Even with his mask on, I know Hector’s putting on a big, fake smile to shake hands with the law enforcement officers standing near the mayor. Everyone here is playing a part, smiling and dancing and enjoying the festivities.

  I, on the other hand, am worried that someone may break into our house tonight since Mom isn’t home and I’m at the party. Mr. Carter is home, and he promised to keep an eye on things. Our security system is in place and working – Mom accidentally set off the alarm at four o’clock the other morning – but that’s still not the best reassurance.

  I scan the room for the one person I know won’t be here – Frank. I felt like the theme would’ve worked in his favor. As much as he creeps me out, he deserves to be involved in anything that’s in honor of his older brother. He has to feel left out. His bitterness is warranted. I can’t imagine how he feels when wakes up each day, knowing that he lost his family due to the tragedy, and this town won’t let him forget and move forward.

  “I feel like there’s a missing piece, and we’re so close,” I tell Rooks, keeping my voice low so no one else can hear us.

  We step off to the side, in a corner of the room away from everyone else. A table of cupcakes from Seaside Sweets waits next to us, but no one seems to have a sweet tooth yet tonight.

  “If we could just see it, in real time, up close, maybe we’d see something that no one else would,” I say, even though I know I sound like a psycho as I’m saying the words.

  It’s like one of those out of body experiences, where you’re watching yourself and hearing yourself and you know better than to allow yourself to do this, but nothing else makes sense.

  “Do you realize what you’re saying?” Rooks asks. He looks at me as if I just said I want to perform a séance at Shark Island and resurrect the spirits of Seth and Hanna.

  “I know, it’s crazy, and no one else saw anything that made sense fifty years ago, but they didn’t have the letters,” I remind him. “We have a knowledge that no one else ever did.”

  Hector clears his throat from behind us, and I freeze in my tracks. I wonder how much of this conversation he just heard, lurking around and hiding out in the shadows like a true phantom. Now he’ll know that I’m just as crazy as Mayor Rhodes when it comes to the tragedy. Great.

  “You want to go to Shark Island?” he asks, raising his phantom mask up over his forehead. “Because if you want to, I’m up for it. I can take you guys out there. It beats the hell out of this.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I place my flamingo mask on Rooks’ dashboard. A light rainfall coats his windshield as we wait in the parking lot near the beach. His truck is the only vehicle here, which
is a rarity. Even after dark, the beach is usually buzzing with parties, volleyball games with light-up nets, and beachgoers who just want a late night stroll. I’ve never been to the beach at night, not even to see the whitecaps rolling in under a bright moon, but I know from passing by that this place is never dead – except tonight.

  It’s surprising that so many people are involved in the Town Hall celebration. I can’t imagine anyone other than business owners and longtime residents really participating. If you’re in the social scene around here, sure, but people my age? Newbies to the area? I can’t imagine them cancelling their beach night for it. Then again, maybe it’s the rain.

  “I think it’s going to storm tonight,” Rooks says, flipping his windshield wipers on to clear the glass. “I wish Hector would hurry up already.”

  He’d told us that he had to give Natalie an excuse as to why he was bailing on the party. Then he had to go home and load the boat. Rooks offered to meet him over there to help, but Hector said he could handle it. We’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes, and I can tell Rooks is getting antsy by the way he keeps picking up his phoenix mask and analyzing it, putting it back on the dashboard, and picking it up a few minutes later.

  Thunder rumbles in the distance, and Rooks eyes shift toward me. He reaches across the seat for my hand.

  “You sure about this?” he asks, tilting his chin down to really stare into me.

  “Yes,” I say. I nod to reinforce this idiotic decision. “I just need to see it. If nothing is out there, then I’ll let them rest. I just need to know I tried.”

  “Then we’ll go,” Rooks says. “For Seth, for Rosa…for you.”

  Headlights spiral around us as Hector’s truck pulls into the parking lot. He backs down to the boating ramp. I hide my purse behind the seat, leaving the letters behind for the first time since I found them in the wall. I can’t take them to Shark Island, and I can’t dare have them out in front of Hector.