“Wow, this is pretty cool,” I said, as the ferry pulled away from the wharf. “I haven’t been on a boat since I was living in Salem and took the kids on a field trip to Misery Island.”
“Kids?” Javier asked. He was holding on to the post in the middle of the cabin. He wanted to be inside and closer to the life preservers.
“When I was a substitute teacher for Salem. I used to chaperone field trips.”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry,” a voice beside me said. “Did I hear you say you’re from Salem?”
I turned around. There was a woman with jet-black hair, red lipstick and a pasty-white face. “Yes,” I said to her, “I am.”
“Massachusetts?” she asked.
“Uh huh.”
“Me too,” she smiled.
“What a coincidence,” I said.
“Oh, I don’t believe in coincidences,” she said, which kind of took me aback.
The boat rocked. Javier let out a whimper.
The woman with the black hair looked at him. “You don’t like boats?” she asked Javier.
“Not particularly. It’s my first time,” he said.
“It is?” both she and I said. Then we looked at each other and chuckled.
“Here, come sit next to me,” she said and took his hand. They went over to a little booth and sat across from each other.
I started over but was afraid I wouldn’t fit into it. Javier motioned with his hand for me to come over. And I did.
“It’s only like a five-minute ride,” she said. “I’ve been doing it for years.”
“See, it’s not that bad,” I said to Javier and squeezed in next to him.
“Hi, my name is Rebecca.” She took down the hood of her sweatshirt. The sheen of her long, dark hair further accentuated her light complexion; her face practically glowed. Lush, bright red lips served her elegance.
While Javier shook her hand, I took her in for a moment, the way one would when placing the face of someone you thought you knew. I nodded, as she extended her hand toward me. She reminded me of Herman Munster’s wife, from The Munsters, but she was younger and didn’t have that gray streak like Lily had― too much ClassicTV watching.
“What brings you to Summerwind?” she asked.
Javier pointed at me. “He’s a big Carolyn Sohier fan. We’re here for the concert.”
“Tomorrow’s, I presume,” she said. “Tonight’s show is just getting underway.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, I’m a good friend of Carolyn’s,” Rebecca said.
“You are?” Javier said. “She’s like mega-famous.”
Rebecca laughed. “Well, it’s a small island. But we go back a bit.”
I was starting to get nervous, a bit star-struck.
Javier elbowed me in the side.
“How do you know Carolyn?” I asked.
“Oh, gosh.” She waved her hand. “She’s been living around here for years. She’s really just a simpleton, no one to be awestruck over. So tell me, what’s your connection to Salem?”
I took my leg out from under her side of the booth. “I was born and raised there. I live in New York now but lived there most of my life.”
She smiled, nodded and looked to Javier.
“Not me. I’m a New Yorker,” he said, and took out his Yankees’ cap from his duffel bag and put it on.
“I see,” she said.
I recalled the time my mom took me to see Carolyn on the set of Witches of Salem. “When I was a kid,” I said to Rebecca, “my mother tried to get us past security at the Salem Willows to catch her filming Witches of Salem.”
Rebecca tilted her head and smiled slightly.
“I was about fourteen. The Wiccan community was protesting. Some not-so-nice lady wearing a Universal Studios T-shirt wouldn’t let us in.”
Rebecca stiffened. Her lips parted and she leaned toward me.
I shrugged my shoulders. “The only thing we saw was her strolling by, off in the distance, wearing a black conical hat.” I snickered. “Actually, I’m not even sure if it was her. Over the years, my mother and I just sort of told each other it had been.”
Rebecca asked me a little more about my mother but our conversation was interrupted by the announcement that we were approaching Summerwind. A few minutes later, the boat pulled into a dimly lit area of the island. A sign read, “Heron’s Port on Atwood Bay” and a little farther up― by a rock cropping― another sign, “Welcome to Summerwind.”
To read more of Tim on Broadway, click here: http://mybook.to/ToB.
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Rick Bettencourt lives with his husband in Florida yet hails from Massachusetts’ North Shore, where he learned to speak without pronouncing the letter R and say things like “tonic” when he wanted a soda. He’s written several books including Summerwind Magick, Building Us, Tim on Broadway, Marketing Beef, and other novellas and short stories. Tim on Broadway was a finalist for a Royal Palm in 2016 and was nominated for a Lambda Literary Award in 2014. Bettencourt’s collection of short stories Not Sure Boys received five nominations on Goodreads including best MM Romance Book of the Year in 2013. His short story Pitch Black ranked third with Writer’s Digest in 2009. Rick likes to entertain his readers with compelling, thought-provoking stories about the LGBT, powerful women, showbiz, and the paranormal. He often sets his stories in his favorite city Salem, Massachusetts.
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Summerwind Magick: Making Witches of Salem Page 37