Samhain Island (Episode One)

by Taylor, Thomas

Tremaine sighed and went over to the frozen computer. Her mother moved silently behind her. When Tremaine realized the problem with the computer, she pushed the off button. “Did you try turning it off and then turning it back on?”

  “Mmhm,” Josey said. Tremaine turned around and saw her mother digging through her book bag. Tremaine gasped, and pulled her bag from her prying hands, but not before Josey managed to pull out the paper Miss Vargas gave her.

  “Don’t be lookin’ through my bag, alright?” Tremaine zipped it up, flustered, “Why you always gotta do that?”

  “If I woulda asked you how your first day was, you woulda given me a fake answer.” Josey looked at the paper, “What the hell is this? Urban Legend?”

  “It’s an online journal,” Tremaine shook her head. “I joined the urban legend thing club at my school.”

  “I was unsure about you boxing and such, you know with your height and you being… well… a girl,” Josey used her hands to talk, and waved like she was trying to erase what she just said, “but I can’t see you becoming a goth. You’re too pretty for that.”

  “I’m not turning goth, Ma. I swear.”

  Josey gave the paper back to her daughter, “Then why’d you join a goth club?”

  Tremaine sighed, “Because there was no boxing team, and I knew people in the club already.”

  “Are they goth?”

  “No! No one is goth, Ma! This isn’t the freakin’ nineties, okay?” Tremaine gathered her bag and headed for the apartment upstairs, “I’m going upstairs.”

  “Can you try these out?” Josey grabbed a thin book off of the counter and handed it to Tremaine. There was an outline of a pumpkin on the cover. As soon as Tremaine saw the word “recipe” she sighed.

  “Do I really have to cook dinner? It’s my first day.”

  “I’m the only one running the store, we just got another damn shipment from Enzie Studios, and your father is on the other side of the island picking up additional furniture. Yes, you do.”

  “But I have homework.”

  Josey snickered, “I already checked your planner, so you can put that excuse on the back burner… along with whatever you’re going to cook,” Josey turned toward a customer who approached the counter. She gave a halfhearted wave, “Don’t get all overwhelmed. I bought some food, and did some prep work already.”

  Tremaine groaned loudly and headed up the stairway to the apartment. She set her bag down by the spiral staircase to her loft and looked through the recipe book for anything edible. Almost all of them called for pumpkin. She went into the kitchen and found various grocery bags on the counter, along with two pumpkins. One pumpkin was already carved up and sliced. A bowl of raw seeds was by it. The other pumpkin was untouched.

  “But it’s the middle of January,” Tremaine muttered to herself. She found the seeds in a container and pulled out a chicken. She prepped the full chicken by coating it in olive oil and sprinkling it with basil and paprika. She placed that and the butter-coated pumpkin seeds into the oven. She collapsed onto the couch in the living room and flipped through the channels. With nothing much on, she turned off the television and enjoyed the silence.

  She lay straight on her back and tilted her head back to look at the tower. From her view, she could only see the tower’s third story balcony. There was still no sign of life. She remembered that the tenant mentioned in his note he left with the casserole that he worked a night shift. He must be sleeping, Tremaine thought.

  While she waited for the food to finish cooking, she worked on some assignments and then read through the first couple entries of the online journal. There was a small introduction article, the speaker stating that there was no specific author and that the entries were a compilation of different researcher’s observations. All of the entries had one thing in common; they stated that all these creatures were real.

  The second half of the website talked about everything besides creatures. There were numerous conspiracy theories listed. One that stood out were the sightings of a famous animator thought to be dead. There was a blurry picture of him by a light post. The site listed various places that were haunted or abandoned, and sometimes both. It mentioned possessed dolls and ghostly mirrors, yet the one thing that stood out to Tremaine was the page about immortality. There was a picture of the circular snake eating itself, almost exactly like the one Miss Vargas showed her.

  It read; “Immortality does not necessarily mean one can live forever. The term was coined because of the long age, so people assumed that humans with immortality lived forever. Immortality cannot be granted by any holy force or by another human – someone who is not human must give it. Many assume it is granted through witchcraft or the Devil. It has not been confirmed the exact way in which it is bestowed, but a few things can be confirmed by various scholars on the subject. One, immortality can only be granted to human beings, by non-humans only. Two, immortality can last anywhere between two hundred years and a thousand years. No one exactly knows the age limit. The body does not age past the age of thirty and disintegrates when it’s reached its age limit. Three, a non-human can only grant immortality once, and that is it.

  “Immortality has its benefits and woes. One of the pros is a strength, regeneration, and the power of witchcraft.” Tremaine brought her phone closer to read it. She scrolled the page over the section about witchcraft and only read about the strength and regeneration. Strength increased, and when one with immortality becomes hurt, their injuries heal almost automatically.

  This could be great, Tremaine thought. If I went on to be a professional boxer or UFC fighter, I would be invincible. She read more about immortality, getting lost in the words.

  “Tremaine?”

  Tremaine jumped, dropping her phone and spinning around in her chair. She was so immersed in the article that she didn’t hear her father come in. Danny laughed, “Did I scare you?”

  “Startled,” Tremaine corrected. “Nothing more.”

  “Well, I gotta surprise for you,” Danny motioned to the door that led outside, “Follow me.”

  Danny and Tremaine walked down the outside flight of stairs and into the fenced backyard. There was a tall box next to the stairs. Danny patted the box, “This is for you, hon.”

  Tremaine clasped her hands together, “Is that what I think it is?”

  Danny made a motion like he was introducing a prize on a game show, “Why don’t you open it and find out?”

  Tremaine took out her pocketknife and started on the packing tape. Danny cringed while Tremaine worked on the box, “Since when do you have a pocketknife?”

  “Since Uncle Donny gave it to me when I was nine,” Tremaine smirked. She finished with the box and tore past the bubble wrap. It was a bright red leather punching bag. She smiled, “Sweet.”

  “I figured you could use your own,” Danny shrugged, picking it up from the box, “I know you always used the one in the gym down the street, but considering what a good sport you’ve been moving here… you deserve it.” He then added, “You can call it ‘Robbi.’”

  Tremaine laughed, then widened her eyes, “Oh! The dinner!”

  “I’ll get this setup,” Danny decided as Tremaine ran up the stairs. Tremaine rushed back into the house and pulled out the two dishes from the oven. She set up the dining room table with the new cloth sets. The tablecloth her mother bought was orange and came with a black runner. She set the dishes out, and then the food.

  Josey came up soon after and looked at the table. Tremaine entered the room, slinging a washcloth over her shoulder, “Happy?”

  “Very,” Instead of eyeing Tremaine’s food, she purposefully looked at the tablecloth and runner, “I’m so happy this tablecloth looks good with our dining room. It kind of matches.”

  “I was talkin’ about the food,” Tremaine gritted her teeth.

  “I’m just kidding,” Josey sat down at the head of the table, “The food looks good.”

  Tremaine joined her mother, “What is with this food, by the
way?”

  “It’s the island’s culture,” Josey flattened a napkin over her lap. “Since we live here we should become immersed in the local’s traditions. Make it our own.”

  Danny came in from outside. “Their culture consists of pumpkins, and occasionally squash. It’s like eating the month of October.”

  “Pumpkins are their main export. You know, like how Idaho has potatoes, we have pumpkins.” Josey shrugged as she fixed her plate. Danny sat down. Josey continued, “I know we’re more of a spaghetti and meatballs family, but we should at least give this island culture a try.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Tremaine said. “I just think it’s funny how earlier you were raging on me for being goth and you’re the one making me cook Halloween food.”

  Danny tried the cooking. “This is good, Tremaine.”

  “Yes,” Josey said. “You should really pursue this instead.”

  “What?” Tremaine said, “Instead of boxing?”

  “Boxing is not a woman’s thing. We have weak upper body strength,” Josey said. “Women are better at using knives and fire.”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay,” Tremaine said. After the meal had been finished, her mother started to clean up. Her father vanished downstairs to work the rest of the day at the video store. Josey started to fix a plate. She covered it in tin foil and shoved it to Tremaine.

  “What is this for?”

  “It’s for our tenant,” Josey said. “Take it over.”

  “No way!” Tremaine shoved the plate back to her mother, “I’m not going over there.”

  “I took his dish back the other day,” Josey held it out. “It’s your turn now.”

  “It’s dark out, and he doesn’t have any porch lights.”

  “I bought this cute electric candle in a mason jar thing. Take that, it’s by the door.” Tremaine didn’t budge. “Just go!” Josey barked. Tremaine jumped and took the plate. She stepped outside into the darkness with the candle jar, standing below her flickering porch light. She looked up at the lifeless tower. Just like the day, the lights weren’t on. If it was night, and the tenant worked at night, then he must be up, or at least close to consciousness.

  She hastily walked around his porch. She knocked on the door a couple of times, with no answer. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a light flicker. She snapped her head up but was only met with darkness. I know I saw some sort of light! She knocked with all her might on the wooden door. “I’ve got you dinner! It’s compensation!”

  She huffed when she didn’t get an immediate reaction. “Fine! I’ll just leave it out here!” She slid the plate down by the door. She walked away, and mumbled, “I hope the raccoons eat it.”

  Tremaine went up to her loft after taking a shower, sitting on her bed as she dried her brown hair. She turned off her lights and then played pop music from her phone. She kept the volume down low as to not wake her parents, or disturb the neighbor she was going to stake out.

  She sat on the edge of her bed, staring intently at the deck and the windows. She fell asleep sitting against her wall, waking up a few hours later with a splitting back. She groaned and leaned forward. Her body wanted her to cuddle into the comforter, but her brain told her to look up towards the tower. She squinted, and saw a faint light.

  She walked slowly to the glass balcony doors and looked out. His own balcony doors were open, the curtains slowly swaying in the gentle wind. Odd. It’s winter. Why are the doors wide open?

  Tremaine stood still at the balcony doors, her sight unwavering as she waited for her prey. Just as she was beginning to become bored, excitement ran through her veins as a figure emerged from the doors. She couldn’t make out his looks in the darkness. A large fur-looking coat was burdening his figure, but Tremaine could tell he was about her height. He hunched over the railing, looking out into the trees. His arm hung loosely as his elbow rested on the pole.

  Tremaine curled her fists. The man must have heard her come to his door. She moved slowly to the door, knowing too much movement would catch his attention. Once her hand was coiled around the knob of her balcony door, she threw it open and shouted at him.

  “I left you food at your-"

  She didn’t even get time to finish as the figure disappeared, the doors slamming shut. She shouted out into the void, “Coward!” and then waited for a response she would never get. She groaned and then reentered her room.

  “Who the hell does he think he is?” She said out loud. Living on my property, not even bothering to show his damn face. She knew her mother wouldn’t stand the neighbor’s shadiness.

  “Well, that’s weird,” Josey commented the next morning after Tremaine relayed all the information on the car ride to school. “You know what, I’ll have your father call Omokah Weiss. See what he thinks about this neighbor. I mean, he owned the place to flip it, right? He must know something about his own tenant.”

  “I knew this was too good to be true,” Tremaine said in the passenger seat. “The building price was too low and the building in too nice of a condition for it to be pitch perfect.”

  “Oh, whatever, I mean…” Josey rubbed the back of her neck. “Maybe he has some sort of mental condition or… social anxiety!”

  “What if he’s a monster?” Tremaine said, “I was reading into that online blog thing yesterday. You would not believe some of the sightings listed!”

  “That blog is fun to read, Tremaine, but it’s all a bunch of bullcrap,” Josey turned into the school drop off lane, “Show me Big Foot and I’ll take it back, but until I see him I’m not going to tune into this… fake fear.”

  “Uh, well, Big Foot wasn’t listed in the journal,” Tremaine gathered her book bag.

  Josey rolled her eyes, “Ya know what I mean.”

  “See ya,” Tremaine tossed the book bag over her shoulder as she left the car and headed toward the entrance to the school. She found Hannah and her acquaintances against a wall in the main hallway. She walked beside Hannah as everyone headed to the same classroom.

  “Something… weird happened last night,” Tremaine mentioned.

  “It did?” Hannah squealed, stopping in her tracks.

  “Yeah,” Tremaine said. “I took dinner over to my neighbor. He lives in the apartment next to mine. He wouldn’t answer the door, but just a couple hours later I saw him on his balcony. As soon as I called out to him, he disappeared.”

  Hannah’s eyes widened, “The tower, you mean?”

  “Yeah, that’s the only other apartment,” Tremaine realized that might have come out as mean, but Hannah paid no mind. “He was wearing this big coat, too.”

  “Did he have any distinguishing features besides the coat?”

  “No,” Tremaine said as they entered the classroom, “I don’t get it; he left a note saying that he’s awake during the night. My mom went there during the night, and he didn’t answer. I went there during the night, and he didn’t answer. It’s like he’s trying to avoid us.”

  They sat down in their seats. Tremaine sat lazily, facing the side of Hannah’s desk as said girl leaned over. She raised her eyebrows, “Ever think that your neighbor isn’t human?”

  Tremaine snorted, then chuckled, “Yeah, okay, yeah.”

  “I’m serious,” Hannah said. “Maybe the reason he’s hiding from you is because he’s not human. He’s probably all grotesque under that big coat.”

  “Hannah,” Tremaine started, “My neighbor isn’t a monster. It’s fun to think he is, but… he’s probably just rude or shy.”

  “Well,” Hannah’s mouth formed a smirk, “Why don’t we find out?”

  Mrs. Lopez called for the class to be quiet and started to write today’s topic on the board. Hannah whispered, “Why don’t we wait for him to leave his house? A stakeout?”

  “I tried that last night,” Tremaine shrugged. She opened her notebook, to give the appearance like she was working in case Mrs. Lopez’s eyes would fall upon her.

  “He has to leave sometime,” Hannah said.
>
  “Okay,” Tremaine agreed. “My house, Saturday night?”

  Chapter Four

  Though Tremaine had talked with Hannah a lot over the past week, she was still nervous about inviting her to the house. The house was still filled with boxes, some empty and some not even touched. She prayed that Hannah would overlook it.

  “Is your apartment above the video store big?” Hannah asked.

  Tremaine shrugged, “Bigger than the one in Jersey, I know that. I have my own loft.”

  “And you can see the tower from there, right?”

  “Mmhm.” Tremaine held the door open for Hannah. Like most afternoons, the video store was devoid of any customers.

  Her mother had her back faced to the counter and leaned back in an office chair with her issue of Vogue. She didn’t bother to turn around, “Tremaine, I need you to do the dishes. I just got my nails done, and the gloves are still packed away.”

  “Uh,” Tremaine looked unsurely at Hannah. “I’m having someone sleep over.”

  “Who?” Her mother said, then swiveled her chair around. A smile widened on her face as she saw the blonde haired girl standing next to her daughter. “Oh, hello, dear! I remember you from the other day,” Josey opened the door to the back area, “Come back, come back!”

  The girls went behind the counter. Josey told Tremaine, “Forget about the dishes, hon. Your father can do them.”

  “Oh, thanks,” Tremaine muttered.

  “Tremaine says you get movies here before street date,” Hannah mentioned, “Is that true?”

  “Completely,” Josey went over to one of the desks and reached inside a large package. She pulled out a brand new DVD and ripped off the plastic, “Here’s a movie you’ll see on tape before anyone else can on the island.”

  Tremaine cringed. Josey was always like this with her friends. Her father was much quieter and less embarrassing.

  “No way!” Hannah took the movie from Josey's hands, “This is so cool!”

  “What’s your name again, dear?” Josey asked.