by Greg Weisman
Charlie piped in, “Yeah, Miranda, you should meet us there … unless it rains.”
Miranda positively beamed. “Thanks. I think I will … unless it rains.” It was all very sweet and nice to see, but that wasn’t why I had come.
Another voice, an adult voice, said, “Rain.”
Rain was still smiling when she turned toward her father. But the smile quickly froze. The guitars in her head went silent. Alonso Cacique was standing on the dock, standing as if he had been waiting there for some time. He lowered his head sadly.
“Dad…?”
Charlie and Miranda straightened up. Ariel’s head turned half an inch.
Rain walked toward her father. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He put his arm around her and whispered something too low for the rest of us to hear. Immediately, Rain began to cry, softly, as if somewhere deep inside her she had already known (and what Alonso had said was mere confirmation). Miranda and Charlie exchanged a concerned glance. They didn’t have any idea what to do, what was wrong or how to comfort their friend. I had considerably more information, but I felt guilty being there. An intruder. Maq had been right to stay away. This wasn’t our business really. Not this part. The saving grace was that they hadn’t seen me yet. I spun around and trotted off toward the beach. Maq’d have a sympathetic smile for me and maybe even a hot dog. And he almost never said, “I told you so.” It was one of his finer, less human, qualities.
CHAPTER FIVE
SUNSET
Alonso brought his daughter home, double-parking his battered jeep in front of the Inn. He stared straight ahead and inhaled deeply. This was hard for him too. He knew he had to stay strong for Iris and for Rain, but it was very hard for him too. He said, “I need to find a place to park. Do you want to—”
Rain jumped out of the car before he could finish. She ran wildly up the four steps and practically crashed her way through the front door and inside. In similar fashion, she raced up the stairs. Tears had given way to sobs, and she was having trouble catching her breath. At the head of the stairs, she froze. The smallest gasp escaped her lips.
Callahan, the world’s scariest tourist, was standing with his hand on the knob of her bedroom door. Going in? Coming out? It wasn’t clear. He saw her there, and fumfered out: “Wait. Ain’t my room. Got turned around.”
Silent, sad and angry, Rain approached her door as Callahan crossed the hall to his. He quickly opened it. It was unlocked. “Right,” he said. “This is it.”
Then he paused. Turned back toward her. His scowling expression didn’t change, but he said, “Heard about your grandfather. Sorry.” Then without waiting for a response, he entered his guest room and shut the door behind him. Rain found herself staring at that closed door. She shook her head, shook him off in her head and unlocked her room.
She swung the door open but stood there paralyzed for what seemed the longest time. The room was a prison she was voluntarily entering to serve out an endless sentence. Without him.
Without him, she surrendered. She broke into tears again and flung herself onto the bed. Giant sobs wracked her young body.
“Rain? Honey?” Iris stood in the open doorway. She’d been crying too. She crossed the room and sat down.
Rain quickly sat up and threw her arms around her mother. “Oh, Mom, I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Iris wrapped her arms around Rain and gently stroked her daughter’s hair. “Neither can I. He seemed so endless. But it was peaceful. In his sleep. He didn’t suffer.”
“But he … It’s just … Talking to him…”
“I know. The world seemed full of possibilities.”
Rain buried her head in her mother’s breast. Both of them were crying now. “And now it’s empty,” Rain said.
“Don’t let him hear you say that, honey. He’s still here. He’s still with us.”
Rain didn’t know if she believed that but didn’t dare disagree now. They remained silent in each other’s arms. The light was fading in the little room.
Finally, Rain whispered, “I’m going to miss him so much.”
“Me too, baby. Me too.”
They held each other for a good hour more.
Outside, shadows lengthened. The sun felt heavy and tired from its long journey and began to sink below what passed for Old Town’s skyline. Automatically, the streetlamp in front of the Inn clicked on.
Mother and daughter had managed to pull each other together. Rain, by this time, had a real stiff-upper-lip thing going. Iris was just starting to move past the shock and loss of her father’s death to face a sudden wave of overwhelming details that had begun to cascade down upon her. There’s so much to arrange. A funeral. The headstone. A wake. And we still have guests to take care of. Momentarily panicked, she stood and crossed to the door. Then she caught herself and turned back toward the one thing in her life that mattered more than any of it. “Will you be all right?” she asked.
“Someday,” Rain said. “How about you?”
“I’m working on all right.”
Rain understood and nodded. They both managed weak smiles. Then Iris left the room, closing the door behind her.
Rain was alone. Deeply, fundamentally alone. The room was dark now, but Rain didn’t have the energy to turn on a light. She didn’t have the energy to move. She continued to stare at the doorway as if her mother still stood there.
And then something was there. Something that bled through the door like gray smoke. Something that coalesced into a figure. The Dark Man. The Dark Man from her dream. Black hair. Broad shoulders. Growing more distinct. She could see him now. Young, tall, with piercing black eyes that stared at her, riveted her to the bed. She tried to get her mind around what she was seeing. On this vision. He was wearing some kind of bomber jacket and maybe a military uniform; his black, black hair swooped up and back like hawk feathers. But she couldn’t take it all in. Couldn’t take him all in. He was translucent and glowed softly. And worse yet, she knew. She knew. This isn’t a dream! This isn’t a dream!
The Dark Man took a step forward, his hands reaching out for her.
And the spell was broken. She scurried back against her headboard and SCREAMED!!!
So little time had passed, Iris had barely taken three steps toward the stairs. Immediately, she swung back around and threw open her daughter’s bedroom door.
Rain was still screaming. Iris rushed forward, in a near panic herself. “Rain, what is it?!!”
Rain watched her mother swing open the door. Watched her move toward the bed and in the process pass right through the Dark Man as if he wasn’t there. Rain did the only thing she could. She screamed again.
The Dark Man reacted too. When Rain screamed the first time, he stopped dead in his tracks. When Iris passed through him, he actually looked stunned. He stared down at his own semitransparent body with a look of horror.
Iris wrapped her arms around Rain. Alonso suddenly appeared in the doorway behind the Dark Man. “Rain…? Iris, what’s wrong?!”
Rain pointed frantically at the Dark Man! “What do you mean what’s wrong?!” She sounded hysterical.
Alonso looked behind him. What’s she pointing at?
Iris watched helplessly as Rain pointed at Alonso and screamed, “There! Don’t you see him?!”
Iris held her daughter tightly and tried to calm her, but her own confusion and fear was evident in her voice: “See who? Your father?”
“NO!”
Alonso took a step into the room. He was now standing an inch behind the Dark Man. “Rain, baby, try to calm down.” His voice had the tone of one trying to talk a lunatic down off a ledge.
Now Callahan stood in the doorway. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Without hesitating, Alonso turned and politely but firmly said, “Family business.” Then he closed the door in Callahan’s face.
Out in the hallway, Callahan bridled at the offense. For half a second, he considered busting the damn door down. But then he visibly shook off the i
mpulse. Ain’t my business. Ain’t my problem. He shook his head. Shrugged. And moved off down the stairs.
Alonso had crossed to the bed. Rain’s eyes never left the Dark Man. “You have to see him!” she yelled. “He’s right there!”
And Iris: “Rain, please…”
Suddenly, the Dark Man leapt backward—or rather he seemed to be yanked backward—right through the closed door. His glow faded from the room, leaving it darker than ever.
Rain was breathing hard. Her parents whispered to her soothingly. But she did not feel soothed. She felt incensed. The moment the Dark Man vanished, her fear absolutely melted into anger. Without warning, she bolted away from her concerned parents and rushed the door. Pulled it open with so much force, it slammed into her bedroom wall. No dread. No hesitation. She was out in the corridor, ready to confront him. It. Whatever.
But there was nothing in the well-lit hallway. No one. No Dark Man. Nobody. Now, even the anger deserted her. “He’s gone…”
Alonso was right behind her. He caught her up in his arms, a rag doll. She sounded confused, broken. “He was there … I saw him…”
Rain’s father half-carried her back into her room. The only thing he could think to say was, “It’s been a very hard day.”
Iris helped him get their daughter into bed. “You just need some rest, baby. It’ll all be better in the morning.”
In the lobby, Callahan passed Ms. Vendaval without giving her so much as a glance. She turned her head to watch him go. When the door closed behind him, she smiled. Outside, he walked down the front steps of the Inn and paused to look up in the general direction of Rain’s second-floor window. Then he stalked away. He had things to do.
CHAPTER SIX
FISHING
I thought we had things to do as well. But Maq had taken us off the big island to work the tourists on La Géante. When that had failed, he tried fishing from the Grande Jetée with a hook off his straw hat tied to a long piece of string dug out of his shirt pocket. This also offered little hope of success, since (although I’m not sure he noticed) he wasn’t using any bait. I stared at him impatiently. I felt sure we should get back to San Próspero. But he ignored me, and given my recent track record, I wasn’t about to run off to the Nitaino on my own.
Charlie, however, made two appearances there. When he had returned home, his mother had broken the news about ’Bastian. Immediately, he took off running. He knew what the old man meant to Rain. He pushed himself so hard that his calves started to burn and his lungs ached. His father’s loose wristwatch bounced heavily on his arm. It wasn’t the same thing, but he thought he knew how she was feeling. He thought maybe he could help.
He arrived at the Inn scant minutes after Callahan had left. In fact, he passed the big Australian on the street heading the other way. Neither paid any attention to the other. Charlie burst into the lobby, taking no more notice of Ms. Vendaval than Callahan had. She watched him bound up the front stairs. She smiled again and turned her attention back to the postcard rack. Though she wasn’t likely to make a purchase, there was a picture of the ocean she particularly admired.
Charlie nearly made it to Rain, but Alonso stopped him. He had just left her room, and Charlie practically crashed into him at the head of the stairs. “Whoa. Slow down. Hold it.”
“I came as soon—I wanted to—”
“I know, Charlie. You’re a good friend. But this isn’t the time. She’s very upset. Her mother is with her now. She needs quiet.”
“If I could just…”
“Tomorrow, Charlie. You’ll see her tomorrow. She’ll need you just as much then.”
Alonso held Charlie’s eyes until the boy looked away and nodded. “Okay,” Charlie said. “Can you tell her I was here? Tell her…” There were so many thoughts in his head he couldn’t possibly narrow them down into a coherent message.
But Alonso got the idea. “Of course,” he said and placed a reassuring hand on Charlie’s shoulder.
Charlie turned around, stuffed his hands in his pockets and descended the stairs. Alonso watched him go with no small amount of admiration. He usually took Charlie for granted. The kid had been underfoot for thirteen years. But now this kid was becoming a young man. And Alonso was gratified Rain had a friend she could count on. On the Ghosts, loyalty meant everything.
Charlie passed through the empty lobby and walked slowly home. He remembered his promise to call Miranda on her cell phone to let her know what had happened. He kept it brief, and she didn’t keep him on the line. He ate dinner with his family in silence. Then he went to bed.
His second appearance came later.
Iris sat by Rain’s side, stroking her forehead the way she had done when Rain was a little girl. She thought she might have to stay there all night, but her exhausted daughter drifted off after twenty minutes. Iris quietly left the room, locking the door behind her. Then, despite her own exhaustion and grief, she helped her husband organize her father’s funeral for the next day.
Rain slept soundly until the dreams started again. There was no chase this time, no fear. She was simply standing in the lobby of the Nitaino Inn with Charlie there beside her. “’Bastian’s gone,” she told him.
“I know,” he said.
“I’m going to suffocate here. I can’t breathe now.”
“There’s nothing left to keep either of us here,” he said.
“Just the threat of death. If we don’t finish high school, our parents’ll kill us.”
“Fine. We’ll finish high school. But after that, we leave together.” They were on Miranda’s father’s boat, sleek and quiet, leaving Próspero Bay behind. “Promise me you’ll come with me when I go.”
“I didn’t even know you wanted to go.”
“Promise me,” he said.
Rain wondered where they would go, where they were going.… And who was piloting the boat? She turned. It was Ariel. No, it was Miranda. No, it was Marina Cortez. No. It was Ms. Vendaval. The tall woman smiled at Rain and said, “We’re going to New York. There’s so much to see. So much I want to show you there.”
Rain said, “I don’t even know you.”
“I’m Ms. Vendaval from New York City. What else do you need to know?”
“Why would you help me?”
“I was a girl like you, don’t you think? A little girl from a small town. I felt trapped, so I made a decision to leave. The when didn’t matter. It might have taken me years. The important part was making the decision and sticking by it. I left when I could, as soon as I could. I left my small town for New York City. Now I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m tall and sophisticated. I wear nice clothes, and I’ve seen the world. There’s nothing left for you here. What else do you need to know?”
Charlie said, “Promise me we’ll leave.”
Rain said, “He’s gone. I have to, I don’t know … pay my respects first.”
Ms. Vendaval shrugged. Or maybe it was Marina or Miranda or Ariel. Or maybe it was her mother. “Pay your respects,” she said. “Say good-bye to everyone on the island, if you must. Then leave it quite behind you. There’s nothing left for you here.”
Charlie said, “Promise me.”
“He’s gone,” Rain said.
“Promise me.”
“I promise,” she said.
And on the Grande Jetée, without benefit of bait, Maq caught his own big fish. He used the last of his matches to light a fire on the beach just before the dawn. He roasted the fish on a flat rock and split half of it with me. I had had my doubts, but he was right again. It was really quite good.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A WAKE
It wasn’t on the nightstand. She checked it again. Checked behind. On the floor. Under the bed. She went through the drawers.
Outside, it was a sunny Saturday morning. A cheerful, pleasant morning. Mild for September, it could easily be classified as a “lovely morning.”
Inside, Rain, wearing a simple black sleeveless dress, tore through her room. She
checked her dresser. Pulled clothes out of every drawer. Checked her desk. Under the desk. In the desk drawers. Back to the nightstand. “Where is it?” she said aloud.
“Where’s what?” Alonso stood in the doorway, wearing his worn dark suit. The one he usually referred to as “my funeral suit.” Usually. He watched his daughter pulling books off her shelf. “Where’s what?” he repeated.
“Papa’s armband. I left it on my nightstand, and I want to wear it for the…” She couldn’t complete the sentence. Couldn’t say the word. She threw her arms up in exasperation. “It’s vanished.”
“You’ll have to look for it after. We can’t be late.”
Rain had her back to her father. Her head sank melodramatically. She grumbled something he couldn’t hear. Something that on any other day he might have punished her for saying. Head still lowered, she turned and tramped past him. He stuck his tongue into his cheek. Took a deep breath and pulled the door closed. Automatically, he checked to make sure it was locked. (You learn to do that when you live at an Inn.) Then he followed his daughter down the stairs.
The Cacique family stood in the quiet tree-lined beauty of San Próspero Cemetery among people they loved. Charlie was there, straitjacketed into a coat and tie, offering a sympathetic smile. His mother, Adriana Dauphin, had given Rain a gentle kiss on the forehead. Charlie’s older brother, Hank, and younger brother, Phil, who usually treated Rain with differing versions of contempt, just nodded to her nervously. Old Joe Charone, ’Bastian’s oldest friend, gave Alonso an encouragingly firm handshake, before kissing Iris and Rain. He wore a coat and tie and the same special-occasion over-strong aftershave that ’Bastian would never wear again. Even Miller, who sometimes worked the boat with Rain’s father, was there, foregoing a perfect day for surfing to pay his respects. His blond ponytail lay against the back of his corduroy sports coat.
Then there were three generations of Ibaras. Two of Jacksons. Four of Hernandezes. Et cetera. ’Bastian had lived a long life and made many friends. Iris leaned her entire body against her husband’s and said, “He’d have liked this.” Rain heard and frowned.
