The Island

by Clarissa Johal

  “Was he out for long?”

  “Twenty minutes or so.” Paisley scrubbed her hands through her purple hair. “Ugh, I probably look like shit. What’s on the agenda today?”

  “Cleaning the kitchen and boxing up Fae’s clothes,” Emma replied. “You look beautiful, as always. Like an exotic bird.”

  “Thanks,” Paisley said. “It’s gonna take a while for this coffee to kick in.”

  “Take your time. I know you have a hangover.”

  “Won’t be the first or the last.” She dolefully stared at the fish. “I’m really not in the mood to eat this.”

  “Then don’t. You don’t have to do what Derek tells you all the time.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.

  “He just cares about me. It’s nice to be with someone who wants to take control.” She picked up her fork. “I get tired of being the boss all the time. Not that anyone pays attention to me.” Hesitating, she set her fork down again. “And I don’t listen to Derek all the time.”

  “I’ll put these in the fridge.” Emma picked up their plates. “Which works perfectly fine, by the way.”

  “Guess what Derek bought me for my birthday?”

  “The new flooring in the Atomic Unicorn,” Emma recited, unimpressed.

  “That was one of his gifts. He told me to expect another when we get back.”

  “What is it?”

  “A new couch!” Paisley said. “He said my old one was looking ratty and needed to be replaced.”

  “Your old one was awesome. It wasn’t ratty, it was retro.”

  “My new one is retro,” she said defensively. “Well…it’s green, and I like green. Derek says it was very expensive.”

  “I’ll bet.” You need to tell her about Derek, Emma thought miserably. Just tell her.

  “I’ve never had a boyfriend buy me furniture. Or anything, actually.” Paisley wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged herself. “He’s so good to me.”

  Emma took in her friend’s blissful expression and felt a stab of anxiety. “Um…so if you could start on the clothes in the armoire. I’ll start on the kitchen.”

  “Mmm.” Paisley took a sip of her coffee and saluted her. “Yes, ma’am. What about all that stuff?” She pointed to the garbage bags full of papers and magazines.

  “That goes to the dump. I think my dad’s making those arrangements. I’ll check with him when I get back.” Emma plugged the tea kettle in. “If he won’t, I will. All of it needs to go to the dump, in my opinion. My dad’s such a pack rat.”

  Paisley clapped her hands. “We should have a bonfire tonight!”

  “We could.”

  “I brought my guitar too. We’ll sing as loud as we want to,” Paisley exclaimed. “Complete island freedom! What’s not to love about that?”

  Emma fingered the wildflowers. “It’s nice to get away from the city for a while, I guess.”

  “You work too hard,” Paisley asserted. “Even on your last vacation, Emma. I mean, who works on Christmas? I know you love your job, but sometimes I feel like you spend too much time on the kids and not enough time on Emma. Derek thinks so too.”

  “Derek.” Emma turned to hide a grimace.

  “He said he’d never met anyone who needed to relax more than you did.”

  “I’m relaxed.” Emma plucked one of the pink wildflowers from her bouquet and held it in her teeth. “See?”

  “If you smoke it, I’ll believe you.”

  “I’m not smoking the wildflower.”

  “Dare you,” Paisley snickered. “Double-dog dare you.”

  Emma tucked it behind her ear. “You’re cuckoo crazy.”

  “I’m fun.”

  “You keep things interesting.”

  “And you keep me from doing stupid shit.” Paisley reconsidered. “Well, most of the time. Sometimes, I just can’t be helped.”

  For the remainder of the morning Emma sorted through glass bottles of herbs in the kitchen. Moving onto the plates and glasses, she decided against tossing them into the garbage and let them soak in a sink full of soapy water to be washed later. Derek came and went, saying something about cleaning out the tool shed. Emma was only too happy to see him leave.

  “I found a folder of papers at the back of the armoire and I snooped,” Paisley said, joining her in the kitchen. “It looks like your grandmother was doing some research on the island.”

  “What kind of research?” Emma rummaged through the bottom cupboard.

  “There’s a stack of photocopied property records, articles, historical records; all with notes written on them.” Paisley rifled through several sheets of paper. “Check this out.” She sat on the floor next to Emma. “In 1875, a Frenchman by the name of Ancil Le Claire acquired the island. He built a house for his wife and three children.” Paisley read on. “So, three months after they move in, he goes to the mainland to meet with a business partner. While he was gone, the house burned to the ground.”

  “That must have been the ruins I found.”

  “What ruins?”

  “Off one of the paths,” Emma replied. “I found a broken doll out there.”

  “A doll? Creepy.”

  “What happened to his family?”

  “They died in the fire.”

  Emma stopped what she was doing. “That’s awful.”

  “Yeah. It doesn’t say what happened to Ancil.”

  The front door opened and Derek walked in with a shovel. “Whew! I need a drink.”

  “Did you clean out the tool shed already?” Paisley asked.

  “There’s nothing in it but a pile of rusty junk. I didn’t even bother. And the shed is substandard, to say the least. The whole structure should be flattened.” He set the shovel against the kitchen counter. “I’m going to start digging the garden instead. It needs to be cleared.”

  “No it doesn’t,” Emma said.

  “It’s just a bunch of weeds, Emma—”

  “It may not all be weeds. I’ll look at it later.”

  “I’ll restack the woodpile then. Is that okay with you?” His glanced at the wildflower in her hair. “Nice look. Didn’t realize the sixties were alive and well.”

  Emma bit back a retort and turned her back on him. She heard the front door slam shut.

  “So, anyway,” Paisley continued slowly. “The island was unoccupied for about eighty years. A man by the name of Rory Smith bought it in 1956 and built the cabin. He tried to get his wife to join him, but I guess the locals convinced her the island was cursed. She ended up leaving him, and Rory hung himself.”

  “Did he hang himself in the cabin?”

  Paisley made a face. “I don’t know. That would be freaky.”

  “Who bought it after that?”

  “The island was owned by Raymond Callahan from 1960 to 1964. A friend hadn’t heard from Raymond in weeks, so he sent someone out to check. Get this, they found Raymond in the cabin with the door and windows nailed shut. When they tried to transport him from the island to a hospital, he jumped off the boat and drowned.”

  “That’s terrible!”

  “It gets worse. After that, the island was bought by a guy named Travis Morrison. A month later they found his shoes on the shore of Sownipok along with a note tucked into them.”

  “What did the note say?”

  “The newspaper article didn’t elaborate, but your grandmother photocopied another article that said Travis had been involved in a car accident before he purchased the island. He and his fiancée were driving home after a party. I guess he lost control of the car and crashed it into a tree. She died two days later in the hospital.”

  Emma frowned. “Why would you even buy an island if you were just going to commit suicide over something like that?”

  “Exactly,” Paisley said. “So, another couple buys the island and everything seems to go well for the next four years. Then he dies of a heart attack. Six months later, they find her under the bed with the doors and windows locked.”

&
nbsp; “Was she okay?”

  “She was dead,” Paisley said. “The cause of death was listed as starvation. Their boat was docked and usable, according to this article. She could have gone for supplies.”

  “Maybe she was sick?”

  “And locks the front door, all the windows and hides under the bed? That doesn’t make any sense,” Paisley said. “You said the locals believe the island is cursed.”

  “Superstition. Sure.”

  “Given the island’s history, that doesn’t seem so farfetched.”

  “Seriously?”

  “None of the owners of the island have survived, Emma.” Paisley’s brown eyes were wide. “The man who sold it to your grandmother? He disappeared a couple weeks after the papers were signed. Your grandmother made a note of it next to his lawyer’s address. Doesn’t it seem weird to you?”

  “Maybe he moved out of the country.”

  “I wouldn’t live here if you paid me.” Paisley handed Emma the stack of papers. “Anyway, I’ll finish going through the clothes. Can I have the vintage stuff or did you want to keep it?”

  “Help yourself.” Emma rifled through the articles, distracted.

  “I’ll check on Derek later. Ten to one, he’s flattened the garden already.”

  Emma looked up. “I told him not to touch it.”

  “When he gets his mind set on something….” She shrugged apologetically.

  Emma tossed the papers onto the kitchen counter. Slipping on her parka, she went outside.

  “Derek?”

  Derek stood at the edge of the garden. Seeing her look, he held up his hands. “I’m only pulling the weeds.” Several unearthed plants lay at his feet, roots up.

  “Those aren’t weeds.” She stalked over to him and picked up one of the plants. “They’re Solomon’s plumes. Didn’t you see the flowers?” She knelt and dug a hole in the dirt with her hands, seething with anger. Setting one of the plants into the hole, she covered its roots.

  “Just trying to help.”

  “Don’t touch Fae’s garden,” she said. “I said I’d deal with it later.”

  “Okay, okay. Didn’t realize it was such a big deal.” He stabbed the shovel into the ground. “What’s Paisley doing?”

  “She’s going through my grandmother’s clothes.”

  “She’ll be at that for hours. She loves clothes.” He chuckled. “Though personally, I think she looks better out of them.”

  Emma looked away, her mouth tight.

  “C’mon, don’t be mad.” He glanced at the Solomon’s plume. “It’s just a plant. Geez.”

  “I’m not just mad about that—” She stopped and took a deep breath. “We need to talk about Paisley’s birthday party.”

  “What about it?”

  She crossed her arms. “You made a pass at me, Derek.”

  A look of surprise crossed his face. “I was just being friendly, Em.” He held up his hand. “Look, I apologize. I know you’re inexperienced, so I probably shouldn’t have—”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Paisley told me that you haven’t really been with a guy.”

  “That’s none of your business—”

  “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, honest,” he interrupted, as if talking to a child. “Friends?” Without waiting for a response, he continued. “Let’s go see what my girl’s up to. She may need to borrow a suitcase.”

  Emma followed him, uncertainty gnawing at her gut.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EMMA SPENT THE REST of the afternoon cleaning. Derek sprawled on the bed while Paisley modeled some of the clothes she’d found intriguing. Much to Emma’s chagrin, Derek was more interested in Paisley’s underwear than boxing up the clothing she didn’t want. Their horseplay eventually got to her and she decided to sort out the shed to give them some privacy.

  She returned to find Derek gone and Paisley still trying on clothes. “Where’s Derek?”

  “He went to grab some things from the boat and make some phone calls,” Paisley said. “Sorry if we embarrassed you. You know how he gets.”

  “He can’t make phone calls from here?”

  “Dead spot, I guess.” She squeezed her ample figure into a tight blue dress.

  “Reception’s not the best,” Emma agreed. “The area I found the ruins was much more open. I don’t know why they didn’t build the cabin on top of it.”

  “Maybe they wanted a fresh start.” Paisley surveyed herself critically. “I wish you had a mirror that wasn’t broken.”

  Emma chewed on her lip. “I’m pretty sure there’s a cave out there too.”

  “Out where?”

  “By the ruins. You want to help me look? I’ll bet between the both of us—”

  “A cave…I dunno,” Paisley said. “Derek doesn’t think the island is very safe. He was kind of worried about you going off by yourself. Maybe we should wait until he gets back.”

  “It’s perfectly safe. Come on, Paisley. We’ll take a flashlight.” She grabbed her friend’s hand. “It will be an adventure!”

  “Okay, Indiana Jones, but if we get stuck in there and die, I’ll haunt you.” Paisley pulled a yellow polka-dotted gardening hat over her tangle of purple hair. “How do I look? Does the ensemble go with my green and red striped tights?”

  Emma had to laugh. “It’s beautiful. The forest fairies will love you.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  EMMA WALKED THE PERIMETER of the clearing. “It was around here somewhere. I got a little spooked earlier so maybe I didn’t look hard enough.”

  “How big was the cave?” Paisley asked.

  “I’m not sure. There was a pile of rocks over the entrance and a fallen tree next to it….”

  “Like a cairn pile of rocks? How do you know there’s a cave under them?”

  “It was kind of dark.” Emma caught her friend’s expression. “Maybe it’s not a cave, maybe it’s a portal to hell,” she teased.

  “That’s not funny.” Paisley wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t like this place. We should have waited for Derek.”

  “We don’t need anyone to protect us.” Emma couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. “We’re not helpless.”

  “Agreed. I have my ninja kicks and you have your sharp wit,” Paisley said. “Except last time I showed off my ninja kicks, I landed on my ass.”

  “That’s what you get for being drunk at your birthday party.” Emma caught her friend’s sheepish expression. “About the party—”

  “I know, I know. I drank too much.”

  “No, not that—”

  “Wasn’t it great, though?” Paisley interrupted. “Derek was such a sweetie for throwing it for me. I was so surprised when I walked in and Atomic had new floors and everyone was there.”

  “I thought you’d decided on mahogany floors.”

  “Derek said the light-colored pine made it look bigger,” Paisley said. “I didn’t have the money for mahogany floors anyway. Or any floors, actually. That’s why the carpet was so disgusting. I love dark wood, but he’s right. Atomic is small and needs all the help it can get.”

  “It’s not that small,” Emma retorted. “Did, um…he talk to you the next day?”

  “He dropped by after the party was over. Said he missed my face. Wasn’t that sweet?” Paisley beamed. “Woke me up from my drunken stupor just to say that too. Well, that and…you know.” She sighed. “Best night of my life. Why do you ask?”

  “Nothing.”

  “He’s always checking up on me. Calls me in the morning before I’m awake, and at night before bedtime. Oh, my god! The other morning, he called and freaked out. I had to hold the phone up to the television just so he’d believe that I was alone. I told him I leave the television on all night. He’s so silly.”

  “He sure is.” Emma kicked at a pine cone.

  Paisley pounced on the cone and held it up. “Remember the time you stayed at my house and we made pine cone buddies?”

  “I fell fr
om your tree trying to pick us more.” Emma chuckled. “Your poor mom had to take me to the hospital with a sprained wrist.”

  “Did you ever get into trouble for that?”

  “Dad didn’t care what I did, as long as I was somewhere else,” Emma said. “That was right after Mom died.”

  “Shoot, I’m sorry.” Paisley bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay. I wasn’t on Dad’s radar half the time, even when Mom was still alive.” Emma sighed. “I don’t know where I would have gone if it weren’t for you.”

  “My mom’s bat-shit crazy, but she always has spare sheets and can cook a mean casserole,” Paisley agreed. “She’s not happy unless she’s feeding someone. Which explains my curvy figure.”

  “Not just that but…everything. Just having someone around who cared where I was and what I was doing.” Emma shrugged. “It’s in the past. Over, done with, gone.”

  “Hugs,” Paisley said, giving her one. “You and your dad are good now, though, right?”

  “We are.” Emma took the pine cone from her. “You know, I could design an interesting program using pine cone seeds,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “It’d be perfect for the kids who like gardening.”

  “I thought you were taking a vacation?”

  “Just thinking out loud.”

  “You need twenty kids of your own, Emma. You’d be the best mom,” Paisley said. “Of course, you’d have to actually meet someone first and get busy.”

  “I meet people.”

  “I mean single people, not parents.” Paisley gave her a stern look. “Which would mean less work and more partying.”

  “You work all the time too.”

  “Yes, but my job takes me places where I meet people,” Paisley said. “Comic-Con is all about meeting people. So is AniRevo and VanCAF and all the other conventions I go to.”

  “I’ve been to those conventions.”

  “You’ve come with me twice,” Paisley corrected. “And both times, you were in the showroom buying toys for the kids.”

  “They loved those toys! They wrote a story about them and got to play super hero for the day and—” Emma caught her friend’s expression. “Okay, you. It was the perfect activity for a rainy day. A lot of those kids end up sitting in front of a television or getting into trouble without our programs.”