Fables & Other Lies

by Claire Contreras

  “What do you do with the leftovers?” I stirred the coffee.

  “The staff eats it.”

  “They haven’t had food?” I stopped stirring.

  “They eat after we eat.”

  “No wonder they’re so mean.”

  “Mean?”

  “Mayra has been plotting my death from the moment I walked in here.”

  “Is that so?” He smiled, but it wasn’t kind and did nothing to dismiss my fear.

  “I want to leave after I take the pictures.”

  “Why would you want to leave?” He met my gaze, seemingly puzzled by this.

  “I’m supposed to meet my friends for drinks.”

  “Your friends will be here later tonight. Why not just enjoy the festivities and leave with them?”

  “I’d rather not wait until then.”

  “Do you feel uneasy here?” His brows pulled in slightly. “Is it Mayra? I can dismiss her.”

  “You’d dismiss someone on your staff for me?” I blinked, shaking my head. “No. That’s . . . that would be awful. And it’s not her.”

  Not just her, I wanted to say, but didn’t. River didn’t argue anymore. We finished eating in peace and he showed me the areas I could photograph.

  “It’s so very . . . antiquated,” I said, sitting down on a bench across from the staircase to scroll through the photos I’d taken. Some of the wings were off-limits, but these would do. He sat beside me and looked over my shoulder as I scrolled.

  “Not your style?”

  “I’m not sure what my style is yet when it comes to home decoration. I’m renting for now and the house came fully furnished.” I clicked to the next one, of one of the six sitting rooms; this particular one was dark purple, all purple walls, all purple furniture, all purple carpet. “But this is definitely not my style.”

  “Is your style more of a small house with a modern feel? On the water?”

  My face whipped up, heart slamming. “How do you know that?”

  “Know what?”

  “About my house.”

  “I don’t. I’m assuming, asking you a question.” He cocked his head. “Most people from islands tend to gravitate to the water. It has quite a pull on us, don’t you think?”

  “Oh. Well, I live on Amelia Island, right on the water. For now, anyway, so I guess maybe you’re onto something.”

  “For now? Where will you live forever?”

  “I’m not sure.” I looked back at the pictures. “Maybe there. Maybe Europe. Not on the water.”

  “That’s not likely.”

  “Based on your assumptions.” I felt myself smile. “What do you do anyway? Do you work? Did you go to school? Have a life? Are you just a trust-fund baby living a trust-fund-baby life?”

  “Not much of a baby.” He let out a laugh. He wasn’t wrong. I didn’t want to ask how old he was, but I assumed much closer to thirty than I was. “I’m thirty-two,” he said, as if reading my mind.

  “Oh. Wow. And you don’t want a wife or a family?” I frowned.

  “Do you think someone would want me as a husband?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  He grinned at that.

  “I mean, just based on all of the awful human beings who end up with families, I mean,” I said, “not that you’re an awful human being at all.”

  River chuckled, his eyes dancing.

  “What I mean is, I think there’s someone out there for everyone.” I glanced away to hide my fierce blush, knowing that all the makeup in the world or my olive complexion wouldn’t cover it.

  “I agree. I think there’s someone for everyone,” he said. “I wouldn’t call myself a trust-fund baby, but I guess for the sake of keeping things simple, I am in the family business. I have things that I do for fun, for fulfillment, if you will.”

  “Oh.” I raised an eyebrow. “What do you do that’s fulfilling?”

  “You ask a lot of questions.” He tore his gaze away from mine.

  I followed it and saw that Mayra was standing on the other side of the staircase, right at the entrance of the hallway that River didn’t allow me to walk through to photograph. She was just staring at us. I swallowed, hating the uneasiness her presence brought. Was she a past lover of River’s? Was that why she hated me so much? Because truly, she could have him. No man was worth that kind of trouble or hatred.

  “Ignore her.” River looked at me, pulling my attention from Mayra. I glanced over at her one more time, but she was gone.

  I let out a breath. “Why does she hate me so much? Is she an ex of yours?”

  “No.”

  “Someone you sleep with but don’t take seriously?” My heart stopped beating for a second, as if anticipating the pain his answer might bring.

  “So many questions.” His mouth twitched. “Come on, I’ll show you outside and then drive you back to Pan.”

  When we walked toward the door and he opened it, I felt myself breathe a little easier. He wasn’t holding me hostage after all. The fog seemed to have lifted. When I looked up at the sky, I couldn’t see the sun, but the sky was mostly clear, which was unexpected. I looked out into the distance, fully expecting to see some sign of water, but there was none of that either. It was as though it had disappeared completely. I couldn’t help it, I walked down the steps quickly and onto the lawn. The grass was impossibly green, not covered in dark sand as I’d expected it to be. I looked at the tree I’d seen last night and saw that it had green leaves covering every branch.

  “Impossible.” I walked over to the tree and stared.

  “Isn’t that what life is? A series of impossibilities.” River walked up beside me. I shook my head, mouth hanging open, and looked up at him.

  “But how?”

  “They call it the Tree of Life.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Some say it can cure anything. Others say it can curse anything. I guess like all sources of power, it depends on how you use it.”

  “Do you believe that?” I looked between him and the tree before settling on him.

  “I’ve seen it work.”

  “Why not use the leaves to heal your father then? Didn’t you say he’s ill?”

  “You assume he wants to be healed.”

  I frowned. “Wouldn’t anyone who’s ill want to be healed?”

  “My father has lived a long, fulfilling life. He’s been ready to transcend for quite some time.”

  “But . . . in theory, if he were to eat some leaves or drink a tea or whatever, he’d live longer?”

  “If he wants to.”

  “What do you mean if he wants to?”

  “If he drinks a tea with the leaves he would probably just forget the pain he’s in. It wouldn’t prolong his impending death.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s not what he wants. Not really anyway.” He brought his hands out of his pockets, running his fingers through his hair with one. “People think they know what they want, but they don’t. It’s been proven time and time again. A poor person prays for a fortune, gets said fortune, and remains unhappy.” He shrugged. “Humans are the same across the board. Always unhappy. Always searching for more. Never satisfied with what they have.”

  “And then we die,” I said.

  “And then they die.” He smiled.

  “I didn’t even know witches could die.” I glanced back at the house. It was beautiful, despite its darkness.

  “Who says they can?”

  “Is your father a witch?”

  River chuckled. “Was yours?”

  I pursed my lips at that. Touché. He laughed louder, that real, unfiltered laugh I witnessed last night. It truly was a beautiful sound. The fog lifted a little more, the clouds opening up just so, just a bit, so that the sun shone through. I looked up to see the single ray of sun breaking through the clouds. It took me a second to react, but when I did, I gathered my camera and started to take pictures of the house. I walked to the front and took some more. With the light, the green grass, and fruitful
tree, it looked like a dream. A house with a wraparound porch to drink tea in on a hot summer day and a yard to run around.

  “How many acres surround the house?” I snapped a picture of the flowers near my feet, not for the real estate company, or my blog, but because I was compelled to. They looked like pink dahlias.

  “Ten acres.” River walked over to me, standing beside me again. He kept looking over my shoulder to see the screen on my camera, which was something I normally couldn’t stand people doing but I didn’t mind when he did it. Besides, it was his house.

  “Ten acres is a lot.”

  “You know this is an island, right?” He sounded amused. “We have about twenty-five thousand acres total, give or take.”

  My brows rose. “I mean, I guess there is no definition that says an island can’t be just a dot as long as it’s surrounded by water.”

  “Yes, that is the definition of an island, Penelope.” He chuckled. “What I mean to say is that this is a piece of that island.” He pointed in the direction of Pan. “A big chunk of it, too. Pan is what, two-hundred and forty miles long?”

  “Something like that.”

  “They say originally, before the curse, before everything, there was no part between this and that and that the entire island measured two-hundred and eighty miles give or take.”

  “This doesn’t seem like it would be forty miles.” I looked around.

  “You’d never know it because you’re just in the entrance of it. We have miles and miles behind us, and restaurants and grocery stores and everything an inhabited island is supposed to have.”

  “What?” I blinked. “No way. Who lives here?”

  “People.”

  I searched his eyes. He stared right back. It made sense. His staff had to come from somewhere. It was just that I always associated Dolos Island with the Caliban Manor and nothing else.

  “How big is the house?”

  “About fifteen thousand square feet.”

  “Wow,” I whispered, stepping away, a little further now.

  My feet wouldn’t keep walking though, not even halfway to the black iron gates. Maybe it was because now I knew I’d have to go down that gravelly, winding road to get there, or because I was half expecting the water to flood back up. And what if it did and I was standing at the edge here? Worry rendered me motionless. What if the water came back? What if it covered us and we drowned here? I swallowed hard. What if that was my penance for my wish, for my success?

  “You worry too much,” River said, startling me.

  “What?” I met his gaze.

  “The water won’t come. That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it?”

  “How do you know it won’t? How do you know a wave won’t hit us and drown us?”

  “Because I’ve stood here countless times and I’ve taken the drive to and from the house every year this week.”

  “And you just . . . trust that it won’t happen?” I eyed his profile.

  “I don’t trust that it won’t happen.” River glanced over at me, a small smile tugging the side of his mouth.

  My heart beat so quickly, I couldn’t remember what it was I was worried about a second ago. I blinked away from his gaze and looked back again, toward where I knew the gates were; an expanse of nothingness covered it.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked after a moment.

  “Yes.” I followed him to the dark gray R8 that awaited us at the side of the house. “Why do you have such nice cars if you have nowhere to really drive them?”

  “Who says I have nowhere to drive them?” He glanced at me once we were inside the car. I pulled my seatbelt on. He didn’t.

  “I don’t know. I mean, I guess you can drive it around Dolos if it’s such a developed island like you say it is.” I shrugged.

  “I drive in many places.”

  “Do you look forward to the party every year?”

  “Not really. I’m not a fan of having strangers in my home.” He shot me a look. “You’re an exception.”

  I didn’t want that statement to make me smile, but I couldn’t help that it did. “You’re about to let a lot of strangers into your house if you’re serious about selling it.”

  “Nope.”

  “What do you mean nope?” I let out a laugh. “People will want to tour.”

  “People will do virtual tours. That’s what you’re here for.”

  “This isn’t a video camera.” I waved my camera.

  “Photos will be enough.”

  “Not . . . that’s not how this works, not for a house listed at fifteen million dollars.”

  “It’ll have to be enough and because I’m sure you want this deal to go through as much as I do, I’m assuming you’ll clean up the photographs and make them work. Surely you’ll get a cut out of that as well.”

  I stared at him for a second, jaw twitching. He stared right back. For someone touting the whole it’s all in the past thing, he sure had a sour attitude. A sour attitude that for some crazy reason I wanted to right. I didn’t want him to see me the way he saw them. I wasn’t like them.

  “Look.” I took a deep breath and tried again. “I know our families have a long history of . . . disdain.”

  “Disdain?” He scoffed. “Your family started a rumor that we were devil worshippers.”

  “And on behalf of them, I apologize for the inconvenience, but you don’t seem to be doing badly. I mean, you own so much land outside of this one island. What more could you possibly want?”

  “You’d be surprised at the things I want.” His expression darkened when he said those words.

  My heart dipped into my stomach. The dream flashed in my head again and I seemed to lose my train of thought for a moment. I blinked away from him and shook my head for good measure.

  “What I’m saying is that I can’t imagine being called names was that much of an inconvenience to a family like yours.”

  “It certainly wasn’t an inconvenience to the Guzmans to have our name tarnished. Your family employs most of the island.”

  “Yours employed a lot of our family members.” I felt my eyes narrow. “And some have disappeared.”

  “One disappeared.”

  “Oh, so you know about Esteban.”

  “I’ve heard of him. Were you close?”

  “Yes.” I jutted my chin away from him.

  “Well, then, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Are you though?” I looked at him again. “My grandmother told me that your father never even let my family past the gates to check for themselves.”

  “My father could be a bit of a jerk in his day.”

  “A bit? Have you ever lost someone and had no body to grieve over and bury?” I let my camera swing, the weight of the motion scratching the back of my neck. “It’s awful. An endless grieving process.”

  “I know.” His voice was almost a whisper, but his words were clear.

  Had it not been for the anguish that flashed in his eyes I’d have called his bluff. I swallowed the rest of my words instead. I hadn’t come here to blame him for matters he couldn’t help and had nothing to do with. Doing that would make me no better than any of my predecessors and I’d always said I was done with their games. I took a deep breath and exhaled, tilting my head up slightly to meet his gaze again.

  “Let’s call a truce. For now at least.”

  “For now?” His eyes danced. “Does that mean you still might use those combat boots you brought to kick me?”

  “I forgot my boots.” I gasped, turning in my seat.

  “Do you want to go back?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “No way. I’ll just have Dee get them for me tonight.” We were almost at the gate now and I was half scared of what might happen if we turned back now.

  “So, you do mean to kick me with them?”

  “Only if you make me.”

  “I might just have to.” When he smiled, it was everything I’d been warned against. Devilish, seductive, terrifyingly allur
ing. He knew it, too. He knew he had me. He didn’t make a show of it though, not the way all the boys my age would have. Instead, he parked the car in front of the iron gates and turned it off. “Shall we?”

  “I have one more question.” I got out of the car, as did he. He unlocked the gate for me and I realized Gustavo was standing on the other side with a group of men, guarding the general area.

  “Yes?” River tilted his head as he walked me out of the gates and back to Pan Island.

  “How did you know I’d be at Carnival?”

  “Just a hunch.”

  “A hunch?” I frowned. “Did you look at the list of attendees?”

  If he’d looked at the list he would have seen my name on it. We all had to sign in upon entering. Though I wasn’t sure why anyone would bother to look at the list of names, and a list of names didn’t include faces. Unless it did. I never saw the list.

  “No.”

  “So, how’d you know I was there?”

  He stared at me for a long, quiet moment. I felt every hair stand up, every nerve ending zap, before he finally looked away. My heart pounded erratically. River was good-looking, yes, but this was something else. This was . . . inexplicable.

  “A hunch.” He met my gaze again. “You should be ready by five-thirty. I’ll send your dress with Gustavo.”

  “What? Send it where? I’m not even going to the party.”

  “Gustavo,” River said loudly. “Let it be known that I’m choosing Penelope Guzman to accompany me tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you dare defy the rules, Miss Guzman?” His eyes were dancing when he looked at me again.

  My jaw dropped. It took me a second to gather my wits before I could respond, “I don’t even know where I’ll be. I’m not going back home and—”

  “Tell Miss Dolly that you’ll be needing the room upstairs. That should cover it.”

  I blinked. “I don’t even . . . Dolly . . . I mean . . . ”

  “Penelope.”

  “What?”

  “Go to Dolly’s. Your friends are waiting for you.” He brought a hand up and caressed my face. “I’ll see you later.”