The Seven Caves and other Spine-tingling Short Stories

Home > Young Adult > The Seven Caves and other Spine-tingling Short Stories > Page 2
The Seven Caves and other Spine-tingling Short Stories Page 2

by Laura A. H. Elliott

shore. As the surf drew out to sea more of the cave entrances became exposed. When the great swells crashed into the cliffs the waves churned powerfully in the caves and splashed back out to the open sea. Yet, the stranger didn’t veer from his course, one that would soon place him inside the nearest cave.

  The caretaker began to sweat. The stranger had paddled his small canoe in an angry sea yet his navigation, indeed the boat itself, seemed unaffected by it. The caretaker searched the coast close by for a kayak sometimes hidden in the brush by the owner of Point 16.

  He longed to paddle into the caves. Make that discovery. For, he knew the sea better than most around these parts. Certainly, he would be able to keep up with the stranger. As luck would have it, he found an abandoned canoe. And so he too paddled out to sea.

  The sun disappeared behind a cloud and the chill of the fog invaded the caretaker’s bones. A great cloud river of fog moved from north to south over the Pacific, inching to shore. Upon a great break of an early evening wave the stranger disappeared into the first cave.

  The caretaker followed.

  The next thing the caretaker remembered was fading in and out of consciousness as Search and Rescue revived him. The caretaker asked about the stranger but was told no other body and no other boat was found, not unusual in the rugged depths of the central coast.

  The caretaker’s dreams were filled with the stranger and endless trips into the caves, alive with treasure.

  When the caretaker came to he was quite inconsolable. Gone mad with a fear of the sea. He tossed back and forth in the sandy soil trying to get away from those that had saved him when he spotted the stranger’s sword, stuck in the sagebrush. The caretaker wrapped his hands around the rubies and pulled the sword out of the brush. Don Gaspar de Portola was engraved in the silver blade, dripping with blood.

  Knock Three Times

  Hanna, like most little kids, was afraid of the dark. As she got older she was afraid of many other things. Really she was afraid of anything she couldn’t see through, like murky waters, forests, and the fog. So, when Hanna’s dad told her, when she was a little girl, to knock three times on the wall between her room and her dad’s bedroom, it gave her great comfort to see him walk into her room every time and chase away whatever imagined monster had been lurking in the darkness.

  When Hanna grew up, whenever she was scared, she reached for any hard surface and knocked three times. Those knocks soothed her racing heart and she found the courage to not be afraid. This was especially helpful during sleepovers and at the movies. Things every other kid managed to do without feeling like they were in mortal danger. But not Hanna. Not without the knocks.

  Hanna was a freshman in high school when her father died unexpectedly of a heart attack. She knocked a lot back then. But somehow her knocks stopped calming her fears. So she stopped knocking. Hanna's fears grew and grew. Soon it was hard for her to leave the house. Her world became smaller and smaller. Her few friends stopped calling, stopped coming by. Her mom worked two jobs to make ends meet. Months went by. Hanna found herself alone most of the time.

  One night, after dinner, Hanna was reading a book instead of doing her homework when she heard three knocks on her wall, the one between her room and her dad’s bedroom.

  She put the book down not even marking her spot. Her heart raced. She backed away from her bed into the farthest corner away from the wall. Convinced that whatever-it-was tapped on the other side. Wondering what it might be scared of.

  Hanna trembled. She placed a hand on her doorknob. Saw her twisted reflection in the silver metal and turned the knob. She tiptoed down the hallway. With each step she looked in another direction, looking behind her before opening the door to her dad’s room.

  Her father lay on his bed. He wasn’t like his regular self. But, of course he wouldn’t be because he was dead. But still Hanna was amazed that he didn’t look all see-through like ghosts usually do in the movies. She ran to her dad. She didn’t feel scared at all, just happy to hug him one more time. She placed her head on his chest and sobbed.

  “I miss you Dad.”

  “I’m so afraid Hanna. I don’t want to say good-bye. I don’t want to be without you. I love you so much.”

  Hanna hugged her dad again. And she told him what he told her when she was a little girl. “Dad, knock three times, and I’ll always be here to make you feel better.”

  With that her dad smiled and faded away. And that night Hanna wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore. She felt, in a way she couldn't describe but only feel, that he never left her side after that night. Her dad lived in her heart and her memories in a way he never could while he was alive. She didn’t need to knock anymore.

  No more knocks were heard at the Hamilton’s house after that night either. And Hanna grew up to become an astronomer, doing her best work during the new moon, when the night sky was the darkest.

  Not Tonight

  The seaside café had been Reggie’s dream. Everyday he thanked his stars that he and his wife had been scraping by all these years so they could come down to their little piece of paradise in the Caribbean and start their restaurant, Paraíso, like they’d always dreamed. It wasn’t very big, but there was a lovely patio outside in the shade of a handful of palapas. Some afternoons when you sat there with a piña colada in your hand you would swear you were in heaven itself.

  Until the day Reggie got a message he didn't know what to do with.

  You see it was one of those high-season days where the rum flowed from the hottest part of the day into the not much cooler night. The stars had come out and honeymooners seemed to be the ones who closed the place that night. Reggie was in a hurry. He’d promised that he’d get back so he and The Missus could take a moonlit walk on the beach. See paradise was best when they were on vacation. It was another thing entirely when they had a business to run. It had been months since they did what they dreamed of doing every night together. Jenny wouldn’t be taking no for an answer tonight. Somehow Jenny never felt quite settled there.

  Reggie totaled the last receipt of the night. He grabbed a hold of the end of the paper and waited for what seemed like an eternity for the computer to spit out the numbers. When he swiped the paper across the jagged metal severing it from the roll in the register, he broke out in a sweat.

  Not tonight. It read. Awkward letters made up of numbers shouted at him. Reggie bent down low and checked the cash register, looking for something, anything that might be wrong with it. He hit enter again, apologizing to the buff, newly-ringed husband who couldn’t wait to get back in the sack with his gorgeous bride.

  And when the cash register spit out the receipt this time it read, Not tonight. Again.

  Oh hell, Reggie thought. “Hey, tonight, it's on the house. You kids have a great night.”

  The girl leaned on the bar and lifted herself up until Reggie saw a diamond sparkle inside her belly button. She gave him a wet peck on the cheek. “You islanders sure are hospitable.” She said in southern accent so deep Reggie smiled and nearly forgot about his mysterious message.

  Not tonight. Reggie unplugged the cash register and walked out the door. He wadded the two receipts up and threw them in the dumpster on the way to his motorcycle. The windy drive up the coast to their little home on the ocean always felt more like home than the endless commutes on the New Jersey turnpikes. He could ride the coast road blindfold.

  When he got back home Jenny was all ready. They left their house hand-in-hand and walked to the shore. It was a full moon so the sand glowed under their feet. They walked closer and closer to the Caribbean. Splashing a little water on each other with each step.

  They talked about the café, they talked about making love on that very beach when they first visited so many years ago. But what happened next Reggie would never remember.

  When Reggie came to, he was groggy and could barely make out his friend Walter’s face.

  “Walter? What’s going on.” Reggie said, shaking as he spoke. He was wet and very, very c
old.

  “Reggie. Reggie. Just stay still.”

  “Where’s Jenny?”

  They would never find a trace of her.

  Legend says that the island tries to save those that the spirits want to steal away. Some blame a mythical sea monster for the disappearances. If you ask the locals about it, they will never tell you the name of the monster. But they will always tell you to never walk along the beach on a full moon. Some say during the full moon the island vaporizes those that the spirit seeks. Some say the disappeared have been transported to a sister island, hundreds of miles away.

  That’s what Reggie chose to believe. And so, he spent the rest of his life searching the islands when the moon is full, longing to hold Jenny again.

  One Great Love

  Lorna and Daryl had been married a good long time. They’d seen it all. Births, deaths, love in bloom, and lately, love in autumn. But after last night Lorna felt as if their love had hit a blizzard. Lorna had just lost her job. She missed the city, the subway, the people she’d seen every day, even the smelly guy she always seemed to sit next to. She missed the potlucks and softball games.

  The deep freeze set in when she tried to confess her loneliness to her husband and his dismissal of her feelings changed to condemnation. It was as though he didn’t love her any more. And now she felt he might not even like her. And so, Lorna and Daryl

‹ Prev