The House on Stone's Throw Island

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The House on Stone's Throw Island Page 5

by Dan Poblocki


  He went on to the next pool, hoping to find something cooler.

  “Don’t go too far, Eli.”

  He stopped moving when Josie turned the light away from him, leaving him alone in the dark. She glowed at the bottom of the staircase like a ghost, the white light illuminating her face from below.

  “Okay, Mom. You know, you were the one who wanted to come down here.”

  “Yeah, but only when I thought someone might have needed our help.”

  “You really believed that?” Eli asked. Josie sighed and rubbed at her eyes, exhausted. “A few minutes ago, when we were up at the door, you called out, Is it you?” He expected her to react, flinch, remember. Something. She only stared back. “You have an idea what’s going on here, don’t you?”

  “I thought I did. But now …”

  “I can’t imagine all the crazy stuff that must have happened here.”

  “I can. You want to hear my story?”

  “Finally!” He waved her forward to join him.

  Josie crept across the slippery floor, avoiding the pools and the wayward green crab. Together, they sat at the edge of one of the cells, leaning against the rusted bars, while she told him about what had happened in her bedroom and how, for a moment, she’d been certain that the girl she’d seen there had somehow followed him out here.

  WHEN SHE FINISHED, the two sat in silence for a moment, listening to the push of the ocean through the rocks below and the plinking of water dripping from the roof of the cavern. Dim light filtered through the open door at the top of the stairs, and though their eyes had adjusted to the dark, there were still many areas of the room hidden from their view.

  “You didn’t think I’d follow you down here if you told me your story first,” said Eli. “Right?”

  Josie smiled, trailing the crab with her phone’s glow. The creature crawled back down into one of the pools.

  Eli squeezed his knees together. “So there really are other people on the island? Other than the wedding party?” He stared into the dark patches of shadow all around the space, as if one of these people were watching them right at this moment. He couldn’t stop himself from standing up and taking a step toward the staircase.

  “But why would the caretaker lie?” Josie stayed put, stuck in her head.

  “And where did the girl go?” Eli asked. “Are you sure there wasn’t some sort of secret door in the closet? The house seems like the type that might have a few of those.”

  “I checked. I swear. The walls were solid. I mean, maybe she slipped away when I stepped out to look for Bruno.”

  “And you’re sure you weren’t, like, dreaming? You were lying on the bed, right? Maybe you’d fallen asleep?”

  “I saw her as clearly as I see you right now.”

  “Maybe we could see better if we went outside.”

  “What’s the difference between what I saw and what you heard?” Josie asked, not moving.

  “Well … I dunno. Maybe there’s something about this island that messes with our senses.”

  Josie squinted. “Something? Like what? Magic?”

  “Not magic. I mean, aren’t there certain frequencies or smells or even shapes that we look at that can be disorienting? You know, scientifically?”

  Josie snorted. “The girl in my room didn’t look like a scientist.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  “Let’s just get out of here. My battery won’t last much longer.”

  “My dad’s going to flip if he figures out I went off by myself.”

  “But you’re not by yourself.” Josie smiled. “I’m here. I’ll protect you.”

  “Right.” Eli smiled back sadly. “From my dad? Or from the strangers on the island?”

  “Whoever we run into first. Come on. If everyone’s calmed down about the cloudy sky, maybe we can check in with the caretakers and ask them about this old fort.”

  As Josie swung her flashlight around the room one last time, Eli saw something glimmer in the corner, by the crevice where the sound of the whirring surf emanated. “Wait. What’s that over there?”

  “Over where?”

  Eli took a deep breath and stepped lively across the floor, avoiding the pools, telling himself, One minute more. One minute, and then we’re gone. “Would you shine your light there?” He pointed at the ground where the crevice met the wall.

  Josie provided him with the light, and something in the cracked wall glinted again. Eli crouched, leaning closer to the opening. From down in the darkness, he could make out the sound of water burbling and bubbling, washing against the hidden stones that were surely covered in the same barnacles and slime that had made their way up into the cave’s shallow pools. But the sounds weren’t what had his attention. In a tight gap in the side of the crack, a few inches up from where the wall met the floor, was a small piece of metal.

  Josie wandered closer, providing illumination, as Eli reached out and grabbed the edge of the object. By wiggling it up and down, back and forth for a few seconds, he managed to work it loose. Soon, it fell into his palm. It was circular in shape, and though it was clearly metal, brass or copper, the sections that weren’t burnished had corroded into the same dull green color as the seaweed in the pools behind them, as if the object had been trapped down in this cave for many years.

  “Looks like a coin,” said Josie, standing over Eli’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s worth something?”

  “Not a coin.” Eli turned the object over. “A button.”

  “A button? Like on a shirt?”

  “Like on a coat. Or a uniform maybe. Look, you can just make out a symbol on the front.” A slight indentation marked the button’s surface. It looked sort of like a cross. But different.

  Josie gasped. “I’ve seen this before. In my history class last year.”

  Eli’s stomach squelched, as if someone had reached inside and squeezed it. “Everybody has seen this before. It’s a swastika.”

  ELI PINCHED THE BUTTON between his thumb and forefinger, turning it back and forth in the light. His head started to spin. Questions began to swirl inside the basin of his mind — they bubbled and overflowed. “Why?” he whispered.

  “Why what?” Josie asked.

  “Why is it down here?” He glanced back at Josie. “Who did it belong to? What happened in this place?”

  “Nazis?” Wide-eyed, Josie shook her head. She crouched down beside him on the other side of the crevice. “Can I see it?”

  Eli held out the button. Josie cupped her hand underneath to catch it.

  Hilfe …

  Eli squeezed the button into his fist so hard that veins popped out of his forearm, little rivers of blood running under his prickled skin. “Please tell me you heard that.”

  Josie clenched her jaw and nodded stiffly.

  Hilfe …

  The voice was barely a whisper, but the word it spoke was as clear as spring water.

  “It came from down there,” Josie said, peering into the dark space between their feet.

  A pungent odor wafted up from the crevice: a mix of sulfur, salt, and rotting garbage. Eli recognized it as the low-tide stench that was infamous at some Maine beaches. Though it was familiar, it still made him want to gag.

  The door at the top of the stairs slammed shut — Wham! — the hinges squealing, the chain rattling as it dragged across the floor.

  Eli and Josie fell away from each other in surprise. Josie dropped her phone. It landed beside her boot, the flashlight side down, and the room went dark.

  Before they could recover, or even process what had happened, a terrible noise rose up, as if from the crevice, an awful screaming, voices calling out in panic and terror. The screaming intensified, pounding painfully into their eardrums. With his mouth stretched in a wide O, Eli realized that his own voice was now helping create the deafening chaos.

  The door at the top of the steps slammed open and shut, again and again.

  Wham! Wham! Wham!

  Josie snatch
ed up her phone, the flash blurring Eli’s vision. They both scrambled to regain their balance, but Eli’s foot slipped. Reaching out to catch himself, he opened his fist and slammed it against the wet wall, dropping the button. Glancing down, he watched it turn once in the air, a flash of its horrible symbol winking at him, before dropping into the crevice.

  When it was gone, the sounds stopped.

  Stumbling away from the wall of the cavern, Eli ran, not thinking about where he was going, not noticing that he was still emitting a low whine from the back of his throat. Josie followed at his heels, poking at his shoulders, steering him toward the stairs.

  The door was partially open, dim light spilling in from the tunnel outside. Before he knew it, he was stumbling up into overcast daylight at the top of the stairs and onto the ground level of the fort. Breathless, Josie followed right behind him.

  Neither of them spoke as they raced onward through the outer doorway and onto the barren spit of land that rolled out before the woods, where the overgrown trail led back up to the house on the hill.

  FROM THE DIARY OF DORY M. SAUVAGE

  Friday, September 4, 1942

  Dear Diary,

  Everything is settled! I leave tomorrow morning by bus. Boston to Haggspoint with a single transfer in Portland. From the station, I’ll walk to the marina and wait. Frankie, Emil, and the girls should be arriving in the early afternoon.

  I’ve packed my suitcase with some of my best dresses along with a few snacks for the trip. I’m not sure what’s left in the pantry out on the island. Probably preserved vegetables from the garden. Sacks of dried beans and rice. Cans of tomatoes and sauces. Maybe after I reveal myself, I’ll prepare a hearty meal for everyone. I’ve been watching the cook, Mrs. Jackson, in our own kitchen for the past few months, and I’ve learned a whole lot.

  I haven’t told anyone other than my roommate, Hilary, that I’m doing this. I wish I could take her with me, but she agreed that without the story that she’s prepared — regarding vaguely painful female troubles — Miss Ligustrum will insist that I leave our room for meals and introductions. I wonder what the other girls would think if they knew what I was about to do? Would they be jealous? Or would they think I’m crazy? I would wager that it might be a little bit of both.

  Until next I write, dear Diary, I remain

  Your best friend,

  Dory M. Sauvage

  WHEN THEY’D MADE IT halfway through the woods, they finally slowed, then stopped completely, attempting to come back into their bodies.

  Eli planted his feet into the mulchy soil, placed his hands on his thighs, leaned over, and struggled to catch his breath. Blood pounded in his skull, like an alarm clock ticking away, reminding him that he was alive, that he was awake and not dreaming.

  Across the trail, Josie plopped down on the moss-covered trunk of a fallen pine. With her eyes closed, she threw her face up to the canopy of pines — her long hair dangling off the back of her head, reaching nearly to the forest floor — and sighed loudly.

  The two of them glanced at each other. For a mysterious reason that neither of them understood, they found themselves smiling. Quickly, their smiles transformed into grotesque exaggerations — too wide, too filled with teeth — that reflected the madness from which they’d run. This was followed by an uncontrollable fit of giggles. Eli laughed so hard that he fell backward, wetting the seat of his pants on the permadamp of the ground. This only made Josie guffaw harder. They laughed as if it would fix everything — chase away demons, or something.

  A few minutes later, they grew as silent as the woods that surrounded them, their breath coming as easy now as the breeze that shook the pine needles high over their heads.

  “What happened back there?” Josie asked, her eyes wide with giddiness. “What was all that?”

  “The wind?” Eli said. They both giggled again.

  “The wind. Ha-ha. Good one.”

  “I was really scared.”

  “I could tell!”

  “But you heard it too, right? The voice that whispered that word.”

  Josie nodded. “Hilfe. Clear as day.”

  “What do we do now?” Eli asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I can’t go tell my mom and dad what we saw. What we heard. They’ll think I’m trying to make trouble.” He sighed. “I can’t believe I dropped that button.”

  Josie shrugged. “You don’t have to tell them anything you don’t want to,” she said. “After we clean ourselves up, we can ask the caretakers a little more about this place, like we planned. They’ve got to know something.”

  “I’m sure they do,” Eli said, standing up and trying uselessly to brush off the moist grime that coated his rear end. “But are they willing to share?”

  AT THE TOP OF THE HILL, Eli and Josie crept to the front entrance of the house. In the foyer, Eli found his suitcase propped against the wall. From down the hall, voices of the wedding party echoed, arguing about one thing or another.

  Josie led the way upstairs and stopped outside her bedroom, then pointed several doors down to where she remembered Margo Lintel had said Eli would be staying. “There’s a bathroom across the hall,” she said, touching her chin to remind him to clean away the blood on his own.

  “Thanks,” he whispered.

  When he’d gone, Josie glanced into her own bedroom. She listened for a moment, trying to make out the sound of breathing or maybe a creak as someone hidden shifted his or her weight. After she was certain she was alone, she stepped inside. The clouds through the window had grown denser. Darker. The ocean in the distance was speckled with bits of white, where foam frosted the largest waves. A storm was coming, no matter what the weather people had predicted, no matter how much Aimee cried or how much Bruno tried to comfort her.

  Josie thought of the girl who’d burst through her door earlier that morning. She remembered the panicked look in her eyes. If the girl had experienced the same kind of strangeness that Josie and Eli had encountered down at the fort, it was no wonder she’d seemed so out of it. Josie didn’t know what she would have done if she’d been alone down in that cavern when the voices started screaming. She wondered, What amount of fear does it take for a person to completely lose it?

  She decided to leave her bedroom and wait for Eli down in the foyer instead.

  Fifteen minutes later, Eli found her sitting on the bottom step of one of the dual staircases, fiddling with her phone. Electronic beeps and blips reverberated around the white room. She was engrossed in a game and didn’t hear him approach.

  He grasped the banister at the balcony, certain that anything he said or did would make her jump. The alternative was to leave her alone and stay by himself in his room, but he didn’t feel like doing that anymore. They were about to become family. If Eli had gone out to the spit to steer his own ship, maybe Josie’s arrival meant that they were riding in the boat together now.

  “Hey,” he said quietly. She flinched and then whipped her head around to look at him. “Sorry!” he said. But she smirked. No harm done. “I guess you still have some battery left?”

  “A bit,” she said, slumping her shoulders. “I really should charge it before it dies.”

  Eli started down the stairs. He’d washed his face and wetted his hair. The cut on his chin was a mere nick, barely noticeable. He’d wiped the muck away and then changed his jeans. The morning had felt epic. According to the clock on the table next to his bed, it was barely noon. But Eli felt new. Fresh. Ready to find some answers to the frightening questions that they’d raised in the fort at the end of the craggy spit.

  ELI AND JOSIE CREPT down the hallway toward the voices of their families in the rear of the house. They were in a sitting room just off the solarium, staring at a large television. Whispering static snow filled the screen.

  “I don’t understand,” said Aimee, perched on the edge of a couch, crossing her legs tightly, waggling one anxious foot. “How could none of the reports have predicted this st
orm system before we left this morning? I mean, look out the darn window! It’s practically nighttime out there.”

  “Charlie already told us, babe,” Bruno said, his voice calm. “These kinds of squalls pass by all the time out here on the water. Give it an hour or so.”

  Across the hall from the sitting room, Eli and Josie heard a loud clattering. In the kitchen, someone was banging around pots and pans, plates and utensils.

  “It doesn’t matter, darling,” said Cynthia, who was tucked up on an overstuffed chair situated kitty-corner to her daughter. “Margo and Gregory are working things out in the Gagnons’ office. Don’t you worry. They’ll take care of it all.”

  “I just hope Carlos and his mother can still get here tomorrow,” said Vivian, standing by the window. “Those waves are looking intense out there.”

  Bruno shot his mother a look. Vivian glanced quickly at Aimee’s wan, unhappy face and then turned away, smiling.

  “Now, now,” said Otis, raising the remote control. “Enough about the weather. Enough about the wedding. Let’s check out the game. I bet they’ve got clear skies over Boston.”

  Aimee folded her arms and flopped back against the couch cushions. “Dad, the storm knocked out the reception. This is what we were just talking about.”

  “And the Internet?”

  “Same deal,” said Bruno. “Sorry, sir.”

  Otis grunted, stood, and moved toward the window to stare at the sky.

  “We’ll all feel better once we eat something,” said Cynthia. “Beatrice said lunch is soon.”

  Aimee shook her head. “I’m so nervous, I’ll probably puke if I try to eat anything.”

  “Come on,” Eli whispered to Josie, nodding toward the kitchen. “The caretakers must be in here.” The two snuck unnoticed through the doorway.

 

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