Island of the Forbidden

by Hunter Shea

  He survived that, along with her curt rejection, and he’d survive this. Doing so without barfing was still up in the air.

  Sitting on the stoop of the sprawling, aged Victorian house, he scuffled down a step to get a full blast of sun on his face. It was good to get out of his third floor apartment. Birds twittered, their tiny claws scratching the aluminum gutters overhead. A pair of squirrels chased each other around the massive oak tree in the front yard.

  So idyllic.

  What only he could see were the dozen or so spirits gathered around the oak, soundlessly glaring at him. He was tired of telling them to leave him alone in his mind and worried that if he said it aloud, someone passing by would think he’d lost his marbles.

  One-two-three-four-five men, all of them in pretty good shape except for that obvious car wreck dude. One-two-three-four women, that one in the poodle skirt exceptionally attractive (you have lost your mind!). Aaaand, stop, I don’t want to know how many kids.

  Of course, the perfect women were there as well, standing in the driveway, eyes black as coal, desperation emanating from them like heat off blacktop.

  Eddie rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. Still there. Of course they were. If they weren’t, there’d only be others to take their place.

  His heart both sank and soared when he heard the blare of vintage 80’s metal approaching. Jessica’s Jeep hit the turn into the circular driveway so hard, the rear wheels slid for a bit, spitting out rocks and dirt. He held on to the newel post to steady himself.

  “Is that Whitesnake?” he asked when the Jeep came to a rocking stop.

  She offered a half smile, turning the music down a couple of notches. “Good to see you learned something while we were together.”

  He could tell by the flush of her cheeks that she regretted her choice of words. He nodded, letting her know he understood she didn’t mean together together.

  Jessica popped the trunk and he dropped his bag in the back.

  “Can’t believe this thing is still running,” he said, double-checking to make sure his seat belt was locked.

  She paused, her hand on the gearshift. “She’s in better shape than you, it seems. What happened to your hair? When was the last time you slept? Or ate?”

  He took a moment to look her over. They were a study in contrasts. She had traded in her auburn hair for honey blond, the sun adding streaks of gold. Her skin was tan, her body so toned, he assumed she’d become a gym rat since last year. Jessica was as fresh and alive as a woman could be.

  On the flip side, his sleeping habits, thanks to his constant visitors, left a lot to be desired. He saw the dark circles in the mirror, the keen-edged cheekbones growing sharper with each skipped meal. No matter how much he showered, he couldn’t fully erase the smell of pet food from his pores.

  “I’m in a period of transition,” he said, chuckling lightly.

  She ran her hand over his shorn skull. “Yeah, well, I think you need to get over that period. We’ll start with a hot meal. We’re swinging by my aunt’s restaurant.”

  The music screamed back to life as she headed to the I95 access road.

  Do I look so bad that she’s forgotten her usual barbs? The few times they’d spoken over the last two years, she hadn’t been one to spare her anger toward him. Misplaced as that anger was, he’d grown accustomed to their repartee. He always equated speaking to Jessica with light sparring in a dank, sweat-smelling gym.

  “Should be a fun family reunion,” she said, swerving across three lanes. “I’m sure my aunt will be happy to see you.”

  He was glad she was so sure.

  Tobe Harper sat in the maroon, leather wingback chair, enjoying the fire. Outside was sunny without a trace of clouds, the thermometer hovering around ninety-four.

  Inside Ormsby House was like stepping into another world.

  Perpetual drafts, some as icy as the wind off a frozen lake, whispered and danced from room to room. At times, it would get so cold, they could see their breath misting before their eyes.

  The phenomenon had started several days ago, right around the time the few items of furniture had been delivered, blending in nicely with the period pieces left behind in the abandoned mansion.

  Tobe enjoyed the cold immensely. There was nothing quite like the chill at one’s back, in direct opposition with the warm glow that settled on one’s face.

  “I think this house believes it can freeze us out,” his wife Daphne exclaimed, sweeping into the room with a long, black quilt draped over her shoulders. She curled up on the floor beside the fire grate. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

  A heavy crystal decanter clinked against the rim of a glass. “Have some brandy,” he said. “You won’t need a fire after a couple of these.”

  Her long, pale fingers wrapped around the glass. She took a small sip, savoring the acidic burn.

  They stared into the fire, locked in a comfortable silence, lost in a singular thought.

  “Do you think it will get worse?” she said, shifting across the floor so she could rest her head on his knee. He swept his fingers through her long, silken hair.

  “Absolutely,” he said, his words heavy with expensive booze and contentment. “You never told me, how did she sound when you spoke to her? Was she surprised, frightened, wary?”

  “Yes, no and yes. I could tell she was very young.”

  “All the better, all the better. And you’ve made the other call?”

  Daphne nipped his upper thigh, growling like a tiger cub. “Of course I did. Everything is set. Now all we have to do is wait. This will all work out, won’t it?”

  In all their years of marriage, he’d never seen his scarlet-haired wife filled with so much desperation and doubt. He wished there was a way to transfuse his brimming confidence into the woman. Things had looked dire, yes. But it was time to put that all behind them. Tobe by nature wasn’t a schemer. He was a planner. Schemers, for the most part, didn’t possess the far-reaching vision to succeed. Planners got things done.

  “Just like I’ve told you before, it will. Have a little faith.”

  Tobe leaned forward to throw another log on the fire. The mid-afternoon sun streamed through the great room’s windows, but its warmth was denied access by the sentient presence others called Ormsby House.

  Jessica and Eddie left Connecticut heading for New York. There was no traffic this time of day, so they made the trip to Long Island in good time. The construction on the Whitestone Bridge made Eddie nervous as they crossed. The outer lane was so narrow, the Jeep barely fit. Looking out the side window, he was hit with a heavy dose of vertigo. One wrong move, and he was sure the car would pitch over the side. He knew not to ask Jessica to slow down. That would only translate to “speed up” in her ears.

  Once they were over the death trap of a bridge, the rest of the trip was actually nice. Neither could be heard over the music, so neither tried to speak. Summer was in full swing and the smell of fresh cut grass poured through the windows.

  “Where’s the restaurant?” he asked, shouting.

  Thankfully, she paused the song, something sung by a guy who must have gargled gasoline and glass shards. “It’s out in Oyster Bay. It’s a seafood place. You like seafood?”

  “I love clams and shrimp. She still have the Italian restaurant?”

  She nodded. “Still going. The place did so well, she decided to open this one last spring. She’s got a knack for restaurants.”

  “A lot of people would pay good money to find out her secret.”

  “It’s easy. Make good food and make sure your staff knows the rules. If they can’t follow them, it’s adios.”

  Jessica merged onto a two-lane exit and took a right. By the briny scent hovering in the air, Eddie knew they were close to the water.

  “That’s it right there,” Jessica said, pointing at a raised, oval sign th
at said Eve’s Seafood Garden.

  It was a modest place with a small parking lot, colorful flowers sprouting from gardens and hanging pots, and heavily tinted windows.

  The heat simmered off the gravel lot. “You said this was a family reunion. Who else will be here?” Eddie said.

  “Just my aunt and Liam. I haven’t seen them for a while. I’ve been keeping under the radar.”

  She straightened her form-fitting, black T-shirt and dusted off the cuffs of her hip-hugging jeans. Instead of her usual jackboots, she wore brown sandals. Fiddling with her hair in the side view mirror, she smiled when Eddie asked, “How long is a while?”

  “Um, I guess it’s been eight months.”

  No wonder she’s not giving me shit, he thought. She’s too busy worrying about the truckload of guilt Eve is going to dump on her.

  She held the door open. “After you.”

  Chapter Seven

  The moment Jessica saw her aunt Eve, she couldn’t stop her legs from running to the woman who had sacrificed everything to be her mother. Eve stood by the double doors leading to the kitchen, talking to one of the wait staff. Her eyes went wide when she saw her wayward adopted daughter.

  “Come here,” Eve said. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Jessica melted into her embrace. She hadn’t realized how much she missed her until this moment. Jessica had never known her mother, but she was sure she more than approved of the love and care Eve had given her over the past twenty-two years.

  Neither could speak for several minutes. They clutched one another as if opposing forces were trying to tear them apart. Jessica had forgotten they were in a packed restaurant with dozens of diners drawn to their reunion. That was, until she heard her cousin Liam say, “Yo, Eddie, how’ve you been, man?”

  She looked up from Eve’s shoulder and saw her shaggy haired cousin. He’d grown at least three inches since the fall and was sporting a respectable mustache—no 80’s porn fiasco. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him into her and Eve’s orbit. Eddie stepped back, not wanting to intrude.

  Eve was the one to break their group hug. She looked at Eddie and said, “Another pleasant surprise! We’ve missed you too.” She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  Eddie blushed. “I missed you, too, Ms. Powers.”

  “Eve,” she said.

  “Sorry, I forgot. Eve.”

  “Come, I have a beautiful table set up outside for us.”

  They followed her to an outdoor dining porch that comfortably held half a dozen tables. The entire porch had been reserved for their special lunch. Eve pulled an extra chair over to the glass topped table and asked a middle-aged waitress with the tightest perm Jessica had ever seen to bring a setting for Eddie. The lapping of the waters of Oyster Bay and cawing of seagulls reminded her of the two weeks she’d spent in San Francisco in the spring.

  “Well Jess, now that you’re old enough, would you like to start out with a Cosmopolitan? Benny, our resident mixologist, makes the best on the island,” Eve said.

  “Sure, that sounds real good right about now.”

  “How about you, Eddie?”

  “A Cosmo sounds good to me.”

  Liam coughed into his napkin, spurting out, “Gay.”

  Eve slapped the back of his head. “You’re out of high school, try to act like it, at least in public.”

  Jessica couldn’t take her eyes off Eve. Her naturally pale, golden hair now had streaks of gray, with more showing at the roots. She’d put on a little weight, but it looked good on her. For the first time, though, she looked her age.

  If your disappearing act did that, I’m going to kick your ass, she thought.

  The drinks came, along with a Coke for Liam, and the family spent the next hour catching up, munching on an array of appetizers that came without ordering, from clams casino to breaded zucchini sticks, stuffed mushrooms and little crab cakes that came with a dipping sauce that was to die for.

  Eddie stayed pretty quiet, but he looked happy to be at the table with them.

  Jessica clenched up when Eve said, “So, Eddie, what brings you back into the fold? Did my Jess finally decide to stop being so stubborn and listen to you this time?”

  Eve had had a front row seat to their spats after Jessica left the New Hampshire hospital and set out to learn how to control the strange ability that she seemed to have when it came to both attracting and repelling EBs. At the time, Eve thought they clashed because of her natural stubborn, know-it-all nature. No matter how much she pleaded for her to go easy on him—Eve had a real soft spot for Eddie, said he reminded her of a lost puppy—Jessica just wasn’t ready to face the facts he lobbed at her.

  He’d said, “Spirits aren’t only drawn to you, but they draw power from you. If you don’t find a way to control it, you’ll get what you got in New Hampshire—a twisted spirit intentionally siphoning your energy so it can continue to do very bad things in this world. What you have is amazing, unheard of, but it can be dangerous to you and everyone around you.”

  Which was his way of saying she was a disaster waiting to happen.

  Aside from her refusal to listen to him, to look inside herself, she sensed he was struggling with his own problems. Neither of them had walked away from facing the spirit of the pedophile set to destroy a teenage girl without serious and deep scars.

  So, she left.

  Better to be away from the people she loved and keep them from harm. The trick was to keep moving, stay in places that looked as if they had no or very little history, even if it meant sleeping in the Jeep in an empty field. Don’t stick around long enough to fortify any nasty EBs lurking about.

  Before Eddie could reply, she said, “He’s coming with me to South Carolina.”

  “You guys finally gonna stop acting like morons and get together?” Liam said.

  This time, Jessica slapped his head. “Idiot.” She turned to Eve. “Look, I know you don’t like me getting involved in the paranormal stuff, but this time is different.”

  To her surprise, Eve smiled. “Jess, I thought long and hard about you and everything you’ve been through while you were gone. It was wrong of me to try to hold you back. You have a gift, even though you think it’s a curse. And so does Eddie. You can see and do things that the rest of us can only dream about. You know there’s life after death, Jess. And when you’re around people who need help, you help them to know too. The both of you give answers to our greatest fear. That’s pretty incredible.”

  She leaned over and kissed the top of Jessica’s head.

  Jessica stammered, “I…I never expected…”

  Eve sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I know now that you’re not your father. He wanted to see, to know, to be sure your mother was in a good place, that she lived on. But he didn’t have what you have. And that’s what sets you apart.”

  No one spoke while a pair of waiters removed their appetizer dishes, preparing for the main course. Eddie broke the silence by saying, “If there weren’t kids involved, kids like Jessica, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “You’re right. Jess would still be off doing good deeds and roaming to the next place,” Eve said. “For at least a day, though, she’s here. You’re both here.”

  Their lunches were brought out. Eddie’s eyes looked ready to pop out of his skull as he stared down at the five pound lobster. He never could match Jessica when it came to eating. She jammed her fork into the center of her linguini with clam sauce.

  “We’ll be back in a week,” Jessica said. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay a while.”

  Eve smiled. “You can stay until you have grandkids if you want. So, tell me about South Carolina.”

  “You want to hear what we’re getting from both sides of the line?” she asked, the line meaning the division between the living and the dead. Only in her patchwork family c
ould this be considered typical mealtime conversation.

  “Of course.”

  “Most importantly, I can go with you, right?” Liam said, popping his head up from his surf and turf platter, drops of clarified butter glistening on the tips of his mustache.

  “No!” Jessica, Eve and Eddie said as one.

  Everyone laughed but Liam.

  Chapter Eight

  Alice followed her older brother everywhere, and unlike other boys his age, he never seemed to mind. That made her very happy. Jason often said he wished they were twins.

  “Why?” she once asked.

  He bounded around the room in the clumsy way that always made her laugh. “If we were twins, we’d share the same thoughts and even have a language all our own. I read about it in a magazine in Dr. Lent’s office.”

  “We could always make up our own language,” Alice said.

  “We could, but it would be hard. With twins, it just comes to them, I think.”

  They didn’t need a secret language to tell each other that from morning until night, they wanted to explore their new home, especially the woods outside. It wasn’t much, but it was new and alien and in need of proper scouting.

  Today was trench digging day by the water’s edge. The idea was to carve a downward sloping canal from the water to a big rock embedded in the earth. Once they got the water to the rock, they would build waterways around it and beyond. When it was long enough, they could race leaves or paper boats or, in a pinch, even-sized twigs.

  The dirt was damp and soft and easy to dig through. At one point, Alice came across an old canvas sneaker. Brushing the filth away, she read the logo aloud. “Jason, what are Pro Keds?”

  He looked at the sneaker. “I don’t know. I guess it’s a kind of shoe old people used to wear.” He tossed it into the water. Treasure found, treasure lost.

  After an hour, they’d made very good progress. They would have been further along if Jason hadn’t insisted on making the canal so deep. Alice’s arms were getting tired.