Trent raised an eyebrow.
“Whittier’s really supposed to be haunted?”
“Haunted might be a strong word,” she said. “But some of the older folks say we’ve got some ghosts that come out when there’s a full moon.”
“Like old railroad workers who died blasting that tunnel through the mountain?”
She laughed in a low tone so the other customers couldn’t hear her.
“If you believe what the elders say, we have animal spirits here—not human ones. Wolves, moose, mostly bears, but really any of the local wildlife that used to call this place home before the town was settled.”
“I never heard of a place being haunted by dead bears and wolves before,” he said.
Her smile faded as she inched closer.
“Bears are important, powerful animals in Alaska. Especially grizzlies. People around here fear and respect them, and their spirits. Especially the older folks. They talk about the days when people used to be possessed by ancient animal spirits, back before Whittier became civilized.”
Trent tried not to laugh.
“Possessed as in demons?”
It was Alice’s turn to stifle a laugh.
“Demons are a totally different thing. I’m talking about being possessed by angry animal spirits. Think more like werewolves. People who shape shift into bears. I don’t really believe what they say, but then again, I’ve seen some weird things around here that I couldn’t explain either.”
“Like?”
Alice grinned at him.
“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”
She leaned in so her lips were close to his ear.
“In the meantime, I’d appreciate you not using any of this in your little act over there. Try to behave for the rest of the trip, if you don’t mind.”
“I already told them that there were a lot of spirits on your boat, but I won’t say another word about them if you don’t want me to. Besides, I’m not sure how I’d integrate werebears into my routine anyway,” he said, laughing.
“I’ll be watching you anyway,” she said with a smile that almost made her uneven face look pretty. “Oh, and by the way…I noticed that your stutter seems to be cured. Congratulations.”
Trent shook his head and smiled.
“Just another part of the act. People spend so much time trying to figure out if I’m going to be able to spit out the next word, they miss what I’m doing right in front of them. But…don’t tell anyone, okay? It’s all in good fun.”
He held contact with her eyes as he backed away. She looked equal parts annoyed and impressed.
When he returned to the table, even Helena asked to see more tricks, and Trent was happy to oblige. He made cards disappear and reappear all over the place, sometimes commanding a card to teleport itself inside one of their jackets and sometimes having it end up stuck to the ship’s window in plain sight for all to see. Spoons were bent and minds were read, and the time passed quickly.
Trent was on his game, and his hands were deadly accurate with their deceptions. Performing like this, especially in front of small crowds, was like a drug for him, and he felt more superior and powerful with each stunt that amused, entertained, and in some cases, instilled mild fear and wonder in his new friends.
Everything was going so well that he began to attract a crowd of other passengers who were more interested in watching the crazy guy in the black suit and silk handkerchief perform his magic than they were in watching the beautiful Alaskan landscape go past outside the ship’s windows.
Just as Trent was starting to run low on card tricks to perform, the Captain announced that they would be docking in a few minutes and that the woman with the broken foot would be transferred immediately to a waiting group of paramedics. He also announced that since they still had a little over an hour left before the end of the tour, he was going to take the boat back out to see a few glaciers that were in a different direction and closer to town.
About ten minutes after the woman was taken away by the emergency vehicle, the ship was underway again and shortly thereafter, it was drifting in arctic water dotted with floating slabs of glowing blue ice.
Trent decided to take a break from his routines so that he could at least see one glacier on his tour. He excused himself from the table and pulled his suit jacket together in front of his chest as he stepped out onto the main deck of the ship. It was only August, but already it was starting to get cold.
He pulled out his smart phone and snapped a few photos of the large glacier in front of him. The tiny phone camera had no hope of capturing its grandeur, but it would suffice.
From behind him, Alice touched his shoulder.
“You should join me and my friends for drinks after we get back to port. You’re a fun guy. And as best I can tell, you kept your promise. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll share some of my Whittier stories with you.”
“That sounds like a good time,” he said with a frown, “but I already have plans when I get back. Where are you and your friends going to be in case something falls through?”
“There’s really only one game in this town, and that’s the Inn.”
Trent cocked his head slightly.
“That’s where I’m going. Meeting someone named Christina. Do you know her?”
Alice smiled, but it almost looked like a grimace.
“Oh, I know her,” she said. “She’s my girlfriend.”
“I-I…didn’t…” Trent said.
“Looks like your stutter’s back,” she said with a voice absent some of its previous lilt. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure the three of us will have a fine time tonight.”
Chapter 5
AS THEY NEARED Whittier, Trent called Jay from the boat, saying that he wouldn’t be home until around midnight or so. When he explained why, his cousin laughed but also warned him.
“Just make sure you get out of there by 11:00. I wouldn’t want to spend the night there if I didn’t have to.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Trent said. “There’s nothing even here except a few buildings and some boats.”
“Do what you want, cuz,” Jay said. “It’s just that half the time I hear a freaky story in the news about Alaska, it’s happening in Whittier. Missing persons. Unexplained deaths. And then there’s the ghost stories.”
“I’ve heard all them already. I’m more worried about running into a live animal up here than a spirit from a dead one.”
There was silence on the phone for a second before Jay replied.
“I thought you mentalists were supposed to believe in all that supernatural stuff?”
Trent sighed. This wasn’t the first time that Jay had teased him about his profession.
“I’m just a performer, and it’s all a show. My job is to make other people believe. And that doesn’t require me to believe in anything other than myself.”
Trent looked out the window at the approaching dock.
“Time for me to go, cuz. Don’t wanna be late for my first date in Whittier.”
With that, he hung up and wished his tablemates all the best before making his way through the crowd of passengers gathering to exit the boat. They were supposed to have returned to port by 5:30, but since the Captain hadn’t shown the tourists anywhere close to the number of glaciers he had promised, he and his crew had stalled as long as they could before docking and didn’t bring the boat in until five minutes before 6:00.
As soon as Trent’s feet hit the gangplank, he was off like a man with a clear purpose, walking past his cousin’s car and heading straight for the Inn. As for the rest of the passengers, as the Captain had hoped, they all hurried as fast as they could to get in their cars so they could catch the 6:00 p.m. tunnel out of town.
No one had the time to complain or to demand a refund.
Since the Inn was just over a hundred yards away, Trent walked into the lobby at exactly 6:03 p.m. He hated being even that late, especially for a beautiful woman like Christina,
but some things in life were unavoidable.
The Whittier Inn was small by most standards, but it had a great interior, filled with lightly stained wood and a giant spiral staircase that led upstairs to the first floor of rooms. In the main lobby, there were big, comfy, leather couches and chairs. Overall the place had the feel of a nice, but older, ski resort, despite being located in an isolated town that made most of its revenue from fishing and tourism.
Off to the right, he heard the bar before he saw it. That was always a good sign, he thought, as he stepped into the crowded room overstuffed with small square tables and a lacquered wooden bar top stretching across the width of the place. Through the crowd, he spotted Christina sitting at the far end of the bar. There was an open stool on either side of her, and Trent felt his pulse quicken.
Despite the fact that he had downed half a dozen shots of Jäger on the cruise, he was still feeling fine, and he prepared himself to be as charming as he knew how, even if that might require at least a few additional drinks. He just had to make sure he was semi-sober before 11:00 p.m., since it was a solid forty-five minute drive back to his cousin’s house just outside of Anchorage.
Even as Christina spotted him and waved him over, several of the people who appeared to be regulars in the bar stared at him, and a few of them checked their watches. The noise level dropped noticeably as he walked through the crowd. He knew he looked out of place in his baggy black suit, but he got the distinct impression that some of the customers were looking at him for other reasons.
Maybe news had traveled fast about his date with Christina. Maybe they didn’t like men in suits.
Feeling even more out of place than usual, he walked up to Christina who jumped up and gave him a large, full-body hug. He had learned a long time ago that an ass-out hug spelled certain doom, but that a full-press hug usually signaled good things to come. Judging from the way she maintained their embrace almost to the point of becoming awkward, he suspected that the night would go very well indeed.
After she finally released him, they sat down on their bar stools and started chatting, their bodies turned toward each other and their knees touching.
“How was the tour? Did you see a lot of glaciers?” she asked.
“They should call the tour, One or Two Glaciers at the End of a Four Hour Boat Ride,” he said, laughing.
He started telling Christina about how the woman had broken her foot and how the boat had turned back just before reaching the first glacier. He was just about to bring up meeting Alice, when Alice herself stepped up in between them and put an arm around each of their shoulders. She leaned in and kissed Christina on the lips. Alice caught Trent’s eye for a split second as she finished the kiss, in a clear show of claiming her property.
“Did he tell you how great he was on the cruise today?” Alice said to Christina. “Has he shown you any of his tricks yet? I really liked the fake stutter gag. Hilarious.”
“There’s plenty of time for tricks later,” Trent said.
“Hey that’s right! You’re not stuttering!” Christina said, punching his shoulder just hard enough to be taken seriously.
“That gag get you a lot of dates?” Alice said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Trent felt like a cornered animal, but she had him dead to rights. He had used the stutter routine to gain women’s sympathy in the past. It was no use defending himself, so he decided to try a good old-fashioned apology.
“I am truly sorry for deceiving you, Christina,” he said. “I had no idea we were going to be having drinks later when I first met you. Plus, in my line of business, consistency is key. You weren’t part of the show, but I was getting into character at the time. F-f-forgive me?”
Christina feigned being lost in thought for a few seconds.
“Sure,” she said, with a smile. “But that’s still not funny. Some people have real problems with stuttering.”
“Noted,” he said, wanting to change the topic. “So, what are you two ladies drinking tonight?”
“Just some wine for me,” Christina said. “I have some things to attend to later.”
“Are you sure you should be hitting the wine, babe?” Alice said.
Christina glared at Alice.
“I’m not hitting the wine. I’m just having a couple of glasses. It’s not like I’m going to be driving anywhere.”
Alice leaned in closer.
“I’m not talking about getting drunk or not. You need to stay alert tonight.”
Trent wanted to ask Christina what was so special about tonight, but instead he ordered a shot of Jägermeister and went back to the way he felt most comfortable relating to people, especially when in a group setting—through the art of entertaining.
After their conversation cooled, Alice took the seat on Christina’s left, and Trent went right into the trick with the torn card he had performed on the boat. Alice had already seen it, but she played along and acted surprised, although completely unenthused, at the proper times. Just like he knew it would, the card trick played better in a bar atmosphere, and within minutes, a small crowd had gathered around him to watch.
Christina didn’t brighten quite as much as Trent would have hoped, but over the course of half an hour, she moved in closer to him, punctuating each of her sentences by lightly touching his arm. In doing so, she also turned her shoulder to Alice who didn’t seem too happy about the obvious chemistry that was developing between her girlfriend and the stranger in a suit.
After one of his tricks, Christina moved her lips in close to Trent’s ear, ostensibly so he could hear her better over the din of the crowd.
“That was pretty good. Almost as good as guessing my name earlier,” she said as her lips grazed his earlobe. “Do you have something hidden up your sleeve…or maybe somewhere else?”
Trent shifted his head so that his lips were now close to hers.
“Nothing hidden. It’s just a gift I’ve had since I was a child. And there’s something special about this town. Some kind of spiritual energy I can feel that’s making the tricks easier than usual.”
“Oh, you’re so full of it,” she said. “You’re lucky you’re cute. And thanks for trying to cheer me up, by the way. I just have some stuff I have to take care of later tonight, when I’d rather be spending my time and energy doing other things…”
Even as she let her words hang, open for interpretations, Trent looked over at Alice. She was playing with her drink, and her face was blank, emotionless. Either Christina wasn’t very into her relationship with Alice, or they were going through some rough times, and he was being pulled into the middle of their drama.
He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a spoon and a fork. He pointed to Alice.
“Watch the fork.”
Trent held the utensil between his thumb and his index finger right where the stem joined the head, moving the fork back and forth until its tines blurred.
“I want you to think about the fork and watch the tines very closely. Whenever you feel the time is right, just say now.”
Despite her sour face, Alice watched, and about two seconds later, she said “Now.”
At that same instant, one of the fork tines bent over as if an invisible force had pressed it down to a ninety-degree angle.
“Now again,” he said.
Alice did, and once again one of the tines immediately bent down.
Even though she didn’t seem too impressed with the fork routine, his impromptu audience loved it and let him know by their applause. He handed the fork to one of the male spectators who confirmed that it was indeed solid, and several of the crowd asked to see more. They gawked, unable to grasp how the tines could have moved like that. They of course had no idea that he had prepared the fork ahead of time and that two of the tines had already been weakened. The fact that he had brought along his own silverware and hadn’t used a fork from the bar should have been a dead giveaway, but people wanted to believe.
And so they did.
As Trent got ready to go into his spoon twisting routine, Christina spoke up and told everyone that the show was over after this one last trick—that she wanted some private time with the mentalist before he had to go home tonight.
After the spoon trick, Christina shooed away the crowd and turned back to Trent. She started asking him questions about where he was from and how he liked Alaska so far. The whole time they spoke, she assessed him with soft eyes, even as Alice glared at her, waiting for her to return her gaze.
She never did.
After responding to a couple more questions and downing a few more shots of Jäger, Trent tried to explain what it meant to be a mentalist.
“People always get it mixed up with being a magician, but it’s not the same thing. You look at a woman being sawed in half and all the stage equipment, and you know it’s a well-crafted illusion—a secret that you’re just not let in on. But you don’t leave the theater believing that people can really be sawed in half and then pieced back together. At my shows, I don’t make things disappear. I tell you who you are after only knowing you for a few seconds. I read your mind and extract a number that no one else could possibly know. No props. Just me and my trained mind. And the receptive minds of the audience, of course. A lot depends on the atmosphere of the show and where I’m playing. Take this place, for instance. I’ve been on a mental high since I arrived. I really can feel some kind of energy here that I’ve never felt on a stage in Vegas.”
“And that’s why you came here?” said Alice interjected.
He got a little quiet.
“In a way. My cousin told me there was something special about this town, and after reading about it, I wanted to experience it for myself. I sensed something the second I drove out of the tunnel. And then earlier in the barracks.”
The Whittier Trilogy Page 4