The Island

by Clarissa Johal

  “Crazy old lady.” She accidentally kicked one of the bowls on the floor. Annoyed, Emma picked it up and tossed it into the garbage. “Sea water isn’t going to keep away pests. Granddaughters maybe, but not pests. Although I’m sure it was one and the same to you.”

  She finished the bathroom and started on the bedroom. Pulling the blankets off the bed, a cloud of dust filled the room. She was immediately seized by a coughing fit. Emma tried to open the window to allow some air, but found it too was nailed shut. Coughing, she threw her cleaning rag down in disgust.

  Emma stood outside for several minutes and allowed the fresh air to clear her head and lungs. Bells and chimes jangled noisily in the breeze. “Those are coming down. Bells inside, bells outside, I don’t know how anybody can think with all that noise.”

  She marched to the tool shed and jerked open the door. The top hinge broke off with a snap. Spewing a string of curses, Emma searched through a plethora of junk until she found a small, rusted crowbar.

  For the next hour, she worked at prying all the nails from the window frames. Fresh air breezed through the cabin and dissipated the musty smell that had permeated the place. Her anger dwindled away with it. Packing away the bells, she taped up the box with finality. The constant ringing was replaced by an almost deafening silence.

  Emma stood with hands on her hips and surveyed her handiwork. In spite of the cleaning dent she’d made, memories still clung to every room. None of them were good. Her gaze wandered to the open front door. The day was bright, sunny, and full of promise. Fae’s not here. You can do whatever you want.

  “I’m going to take a walk,” Emma said aloud. She grabbed her parka.

  “Where are you going, Emmaline Marie?”

  The last conversation she’d had with Fae seemed to follow her like a ghost.

  “I told you to stay inside! No exploring the island!”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.”

  “I’m fifteen!”

  “Those are the rules. If you can’t abide by them, I’ll send you home.”

  “Fine, send me home.”

  “When the boat repair person comes out tomorrow, you’re going back with him. You can call your father from Gideon’s and make arrangements.” Marching into the cabin, Fae slammed the door behind her.

  The memory left her rattled.

  An almost overgrown foot path meandered through the forest before it spilled onto a small, rocky field. Wildflowers and grasses blew fitfully in the breeze. Emma wandered through them, stopping to pick several along the way. The field ended at a steep cliff. Waves crashed below.

  Emma stood near the edge and braced herself against a chilly gust of wind. The salt spray rendered the cliff’s edge slick and treacherous. Several rocks dislodged with a clatter. Fae probably died here.

  “I wouldn’t wish that death on anyone,” she said aloud. “I hope it was quick.”

  The wind buffeted her hair and sliced through her parka. Emma allowed her thoughts to roam before reining them in again. This must be where Dad slipped and lost his footing. At least the accident made him realize grandmother had probably done the same, she reflected. And with grievous results. Trepidation pricked her insides. I don’t know what I’d have done if Dad disappeared like Fae. Good thing he had his phone on him or who knows how long he would have laid out here? She mentally kicked herself for leaving her phone back in the cabin.

  A sound from behind caught her attention. Turning, she saw something white dart behind a cluster of trees. She walked toward it with a puzzled frown. An animal? She’d never seen an animal on the island. Birds didn’t even seem to nest. Emma watched as the white blur headed along the tree line. It paused before slipping into the forest.

  Excited, Emma followed it. She entered the tree line and picked up her pace. Whatever it was, it seemed to keep an even distance ahead of her. She slowed and it too seemed to slow. The white shape suddenly darted to the side and disappeared. She veered off the path in an attempt to catch up with it.

  Suddenly surrounded by thick underbrush, Emma was forced to slow. “Hello?” Her voice echoed across the silence. She ventured forward, stepping over rotting logs and wet clusters of ferns. Her shoes soon became soaked through and her damp jeans stuck to her legs.

  She came to a large fallen tree. Moss frosted the length of it and bright orange mushrooms grew in layers along the bark. Emma hoisted herself over the trunk and promptly face planted on a pile of rocks. Rolling over, she let out a groan. Her palms were scraped and her clothes were splattered with mud.

  “Way to go.” Gingerly brushing herself off, Emma turned her attention to the rocks.

  Stacked in a circular mound, they seemed to be barricading an opening of some kind. Emma knelt and peered into a single, narrow crevice. An icy breeze escaped the blackness from within. I wonder how far it goes. She slipped her hand inside. Reaching in up to her shoulder, she was unable to connect with any structure.

  Something touched her fingertips.

  Emma pulled back, her heart pounding. She peered into the crevice again. Probably a cobweb or something. Whatever ran through the forest couldn’t have fit in there. Determined, she dug at one of the rocks to loosen it, hoping to make the hole bigger. The rock finally gave way, and a blast of cold air bathed her face. She assessed the opening. I could fit in there. When she was a child, she remembered reading a book about sea caves. Her intrigue had been dampened by Fae’s insistence she not explore the island looking for any.

  Emma lay flat on her belly. Determined, she wriggled through the opening up to her waist. Inside was silent and blacker than any void. She immediately wished for her flashlight.

  A draft of air passed over her lips. Something brushed against her cheek.

  “What are you doing?”

  Emma pulled out of the crevice with an alarmed cry. “Oh, my god, you scared the crap out of me, Nathanial. What are you doing here?”

  Nathanial stood over her, an expression of disbelief on his face. “I thought I’d drop off some supplies. When I couldn’t find you, I thought you might be in trouble.”

  “I was taking a break,” she explained, her cheeks warming. “Fae never let me explore the island.”

  “Probably for good reason.” His gaze darted to the dark crevice. “Where are the bells?”

  “What?”

  “The bells that hung across the windows and around the cabin.”

  “I boxed them up,” Emma said with a frown. “And I had to crowbar the windows open. They were nailed shut.”

  “You boxed up Fae’s bells?”

  “Yes.” Her gaze was drawn to the bell on his necklace. “Did you want them?”

  “No.”

  Emma stifled a sound of frustration. “I have to box her things and get the cabin ready for sale, Nathanial. Nobody wants bells and chimes hanging everywhere. It’s noisy and weird.”

  “I…put the supplies away for you.”

  “Did you just walk in?” She stood and tugged at her damp jeans. “I could have been taking a bath, you know.”

  “The door was open.” His cheeks reddened under his natural tan.

  “It was? Oh.” She caught his look of embarrassment. “Guess I forgot to lock it. I still don’t have electricity. I hope nothing needed to go into the fridge.”

  “The electricity is on. I called them this morning.”

  “Thanks,” Emma said, surprised. “That…was really nice of you. I appreciate the supplies too.”

  “I know you’re trying to take care of family business,” he added quickly. “I thought you might like something besides granola bars.”

  She peered into the crevice. “I wish I knew what was down there.” Emma looked up to catch him staring. “Did you want some coffee before you go? It’s instant, but…”

  “Sounds good.” He went to help her navigate the rocks, but seemed to think better of it. “I saw your sleeping bag on the floor. How was it last night?”

  “I have to admit,
the floor’s not very comfortable.” Emma said. “I’m airing out Fae’s mattress so I can brave that tonight.”

  “It’s probably not in the best shape after sitting for seven years.”

  “You’ve got that right. Dad wants to keep everything. I think most of it needs to be burned, personally.” She caught his look of surprise. “It’s just…I don’t know what he’s going to do with it.” They continued in silence until they reached the open rocky field. “Gideon told me you were the one who reported Fae missing,” she ventured. “My dad would want me to thank you.” Sunlight caught Nathanial’s eyes, lighting them with a golden fire. Emma forced herself to look away.

  “I wish I could have showed up earlier—”

  “I’m sure she fell, and if that was the case, there was nothing you could have done,” Emma said. “The cliff edge is really unstable. I don’t think she would have survived the fall. It goes straight down into the ocean.”

  “You looked?”

  “I was being careful,” she answered defensively.

  “I’m sure your dad was being careful too,” he replied quietly.

  “My dad is having a hard time accepting her death, even after all this time,” Emma said as they continued along. “I think he was looking for her body. I was just looking. There’s a difference.”

  They arrived at the cabin and Emma opened the door. “Pick a clean spot. I’ll put the water on to boil.” She opened the top cupboard. “Or not.”

  “She moved the kettle to the bottom cupboard. It was easier for her to reach.” He caught her look. “She invited me in for tea…once or twice. When I’d bring her supplies.”

  “Really? I’m surprised she invited you in at all.” Emma pulled out the kettle and filled it. “Fae wasn’t exactly known for her hospitality.”

  “She had good and bad days,” Nathaniel said. “Tea meant she was having a good day.”

  “Well, aren’t you special?” She stood with her back to him, her stomach in knots.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “I’m sorry, that was rude.” She shook her head. “It’s no secret we didn’t get along. She wasn’t fond of me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t think she liked me on her island,” Emma said. “She wouldn’t let me touch any of her things or go out of her sight. I just wanted to play and explore, I mean, what kid wouldn’t?” She searched for a mug. “Cream, right? I only have powdered creamer. I was trying to travel light.”

  “That works,” he said with smile. “I’m surprised you’re selling the place. I expected family to move right in.”

  “Why? It’s so remote.”

  “That’s not a bad thing.”

  “You’re not a city boy, I take it?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then this is the perfect place for you. Maybe you should buy the island.”

  A wry smile tugged at his lips. “I couldn’t afford it. Nor would I want to. My boat is all I need.”

  Her gaze was drawn to his necklace again. “That’s an interesting necklace.”

  “My father gave it to me.” He tucked the bell into his sweater. “So, what do you do in the city?”

  “I work at a youth center. I help develop programs for at-risk teens.”

  “Really?” His face registered surprise. “What made you go into that career? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “My parents divorced when I was five. They were kind of wrapped up in their own hurt, little worlds. They couldn’t be together and they couldn’t be apart. Neither seemed to want me around, and they fought all the time. When I was ten, my mom died.” She paused. “My dad completely checked out. I mean our relationship is fine now, but—” She stopped, her face warm. “That’s probably more info than you were asking.”

  “Not at all.” His eyes registered compassion. “I’m sorry you lost your mom.”

  “Me too. It was…a shock to everyone.” She averted her eyes. “Anyway, I want kids to feel like they have a place to go. And that they’re wanted.”

  “That’s really admirable, Emma.”

  “Thanks.” She sipped her coffee to hide her embarrassment. “So, um…how long have you known Gideon?”

  “I was eight when we moved from up north,” he said. “My dad thought there would be better opportunities down here.”

  “In Timber Point?”

  “More customers on his fishing route,” Nathanial explained. “We lived on the other end of the island. I used to go out with him during the summer.”

  “That explains it. I would have remembered seeing you in town,” Emma said. “I was usually sent to Fae’s for the summer or spring break, but sometimes I’d just end up with Gideon. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No.”

  “Me neither. I always wanted them. Kind of lonely, isn’t it?”

  “Sometimes,” he said thoughtfully. “It makes you more independent too.”

  Emma stood with a sigh. “I am independent. It’s my downfall. So I’ve been told.”

  “It’s not a downfall,” Nathanial remarked. “I kind of like it.” He joined her by the sink.

  Emma felt the heat radiating off his body. His scent was heady, a distinctly masculine combination of soap and salty ocean. She took a casual step away, putting some distance between them. “Thanks for the supplies, Nathaniel.”

  “Fish, eggs, and apples. A good catch of fish. I brought enough for several days.” He paused. “Do you have any idea how long you’ll be?”

  “I’m not sure. As you can see, the place is a bit worse for wear.”

  “I’ll check with Gideon toward the end of the week,” he said. “Repairs on his boat may be steep. I’m not sure he can afford them right now.”

  “I wish there was something I could do.”

  “Business will pick up. Ebb and flow, like the tide.” He stood over her, his amber-eyed gaze capturing her own. “Thanks for the coffee.” He started to say something before seemingly changing his mind. “‘Bye, Emma.”

  She waited for him to leave before letting out a pent-up breath. That man is seriously hot. Why didn’t I give him my phone number? Emma started toward the door. Just in case Gideon has problems getting his boat fixed. Not for any other reason, of course. She opened the door and watched him disappear down the overgrown path. Don’t be stupid, Emma. He’ll probably forget all about you once he leaves. She closed the door again.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  BY LATE AFTERNOON, a chill had settled and clouds gathered in the sky. Emma lit a fire and filled the stove with as much wood as she dared. The fire blazed hotly from within.

  Singing to herself, Emma pulled the living room rug outside and tossed it over a tree limb to air it out. Her thoughts turned from Nathaniel to the crevice she’d found earlier. Maybe I could go back before it gets dark. Nathaniel kind of interrupted me. She trudged into the cabin. Not that I minded. Movement in the forest caught her attention. She stopped and peered into the trees. The forest was silent and still, as if holding its breath. Shrugging it off, she continued inside.

  Emma plucked her sleeping bag from the floor and spread it on the bare mattress. “I don’t know what’s worse, the floor or the mattress,” she murmured. “Guess I’ll start on the magazines under the bed.” She pulled a few that were stuck together with mold. “Gross.”

  Outside, the clouds had completely killed the sun. The first splatter of rain hit the window pane. Shadows had settled in the corners of the room. So much for exploring later. Just what I want, to be trapped inside all day. Emma switched on the bedside lamp. “Ugh, it looks better in the dark.” She continued to pull magazines from under the bed by the armful and shoved them into a garbage bag. Pages crumbled in her fingers, some of them covered with mildew. A green book slid from one of the stacks. Curious, she opened it. Small, cramped writing filled the pages. Fae’s journal, she mused. Well, this could be interesting.

  The bedside lamp bulb flickered and went out with a pop.
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  Sighing in frustration, Emma searched for spare light bulbs, but couldn’t find any. Remembering she’d seen an oil lantern in the tool shed, she went out to get it.

  The rain had picked up and wind bit through her t-shirt. Being careful not to break off the remaining hinge of the door, she eased it open. A low whistle sounded from behind her and Emma turned with a start. Scanning the forest, she saw nothing. The steady patter of rain drummed through the leaves. She snatched up the lantern and ran back inside.

  Emma filled it with oil and lit the wick. A glow filtered through the hazy glass chimney and illuminated the room. She shivered, her now-damp clothing chilling her to the core. A warm bath sounds really good right now, she thought. I’ll finish the magazines later.

  The one thing she liked about her grandmother’s house was the claw-foot tub. As a child, she imagined the clawed feet carrying her away on a grand adventure. Emma set the lantern on the floor. She turned the faucet on and then shed her damp clothes. Remembering the journal, she made a naked dash into the bedroom to fetch it. The window stared at her like an open eye. Yikes! No curtains! She grabbed her robe and paused. There’s nobody here. I could run naked across the whole island if I really wanted to. Tossing the robe aside, she picked up the journal, and sauntered past the window; enjoying her new-found freedom. Emma settled into the warm bath water with a sigh. She opened the journal to the first page.

  May 12, 1993

  I purchased the island at a ridiculously low price. The seller decided it was more trouble than it was worth after owning it for less than a month. Personally, I think the locals and their silly superstitions got to him. No matter. My first months on the island have been difficult. I miss Gerry terribly and I’m not used to living alone. Our friends keep calling to express their condolences. I’ve decided to ignore the phone, for the time being. If I hear “I’m sorry” one more time, I shall scream. Nobody can conceive of how deep my grief is. Nobody.

  Emma felt a stab of guilt from reading something so personal. “Duh, Emma. It’s a journal.” She half-heartedly rifled through the pages.