The Haunting of Tranquility Cove

The cop sighed, shaking his head at her and muttering something about “emotional mainlanders.” Looking down at Clipper, he offered him another pat on the head, the dog unable to squirm away whine in Barbara’s grasp.

“In my forty-nine years on the island,” he said, “Nine problems out of every ten have been caused by the mainlanders. You’ll do well to keep that ferry reservation. As for the dog...where did it come from? Hasn’t it got an owner? Seems awfully tame for a stray. Would be a shame to haul you in for dognapping.”

On that note, he turned and walked away, leaving Barbara alone with Clipper in the hospital lobby.
 
"I really, really hate islanders," Barbara grumbled. "Stupid, blind, and water in their ears. Just like Tim said." She paused and sighed. "Tim..." She stood stiffly. "Come on, Clipper. Let's go find Tim." She walked over to the nurse's station, first. "Excuse me, may I leave a note for Theo? I need him to know I found his dog."

She left the note and trudged out. "Let's go find Tim, then we'll go find a bath and something to eat. I think we could both use one," she muttered to the dog. "We'll see Theo and Charles and Lucy, I suppose, tomorrow."
 
Luckily for Barbara and Clipper, Tim wouldn’t be hard to find. They ran into the man snoring on a bench by the beach, wrapped in a giant hot dog costume for warmth. The costume was soaked through from the fog, but Tim was plenty warm, if the number of bottles scattered around the bench were any indication. He was woken up by Clipper’s sniffing, and mumbled something incoherently as he pushed the dog’s nose away from his shoes.

“You again,” he said, looking blearily at Barbara. “I see you found the dog. Good job. What can I help you with now, huh? I don’t see your camera boy around, so I don’t suppose it’s another interview.”

He sat up slowly, rubbing his face and peering into an empty bottle in the hopes of finding some remaining dregs of booze.

“You know,” he said, “one might start to wonder about your intentions, coming to see a man this late at night. It’s flattering, really, but I don’t think you’re really my type.”
 
"Don't push me, Timmy," Barbara said flatly. "After the evening I've had, you are liable to fine one of those bottle meeting your head." She forced herself to calm and take a breath. "I found your wife. I found Lucy. She's in the hospital now, and I have no idea how badly she's hurt. They wouldn't talk to me since I'm not family."

She paused to rub her head. She was starting to get a headache from exhaustion. "You should clean yourself up, get sober, and go see her. But, uh, do you know what dogs eat?" She paused to think. "Wait, Theo might have some dog food in his room. I'll ask the landlady. I'm so tired."
 
Tim frowned, straightening up and tossing the empty bottle aside. He stared at Barbara for a moment, as though trying to comprehend exactly what it was that she’d said.

“You found her?” he asked. “You really found Lucy? What happened? How’d she get hurt? What’s going on? She threw a pinecone at my head the last time I saw her, you know that? A pinecone! I suppose that has to count for something, pinecones are light and there was a coffee mug right there...oh, I should still check up on her anyways. The hospital, you say?”

He got to his feet and started shuffling down the road, stumbling and tripping over his hot dog costume. After a few steps, he paused and pulled a hot dog out of his pocket.

“Dogs eat just about everything,” he said, tossing it to Clipper. The dog snapped it out of the air and swallowed it in two bites, wagging his tail happily.

“You get some sleep,” he said. “I’ve got a hospital to get- HURK!”

His sentence was cut off as he vomited on a mailbox, but he managed to pull himself together and soldier on. He was headed in the general direction of the hospital at least, despite his path being rather wobbly.
 
"Get yourself cleaned up! You look terrible and smell worse!" Barbara called after him. She shivered and pulled her light jacket closer. "Come on, Clipper. You and I should get cleaned up, too."

She turned and walked to the Whalebone Inn, holding tight to Clipper's leash. She tried to get to her room as quietly as possible, bringing the dog in with her. Once she'd gotten herself sort of cleaned up, she dug a granola bar out of her bag and started feeding pieces of it to Clipper while she tried to get the worst of the crud out of his coat then took off the rope leash.

"Sorry, buddy, that's all I have. I'll get you a big breakfast tomorrow, okay? I promise," she assured the dog wearily. She checked the door was locked and put a chair in front of it then checked the window. "Eels... I hope I never see another one. It has to be over, right? She - it - failed to kill all those young men, she got kicked out of her host body, and she was washed out to sea. It has to be over. We'll go see Theo tomorrow, then I'm going home, hopefully with Charles if they let him out."
 
Clipper seemed unimpressed by the granola, sniffing at it suspiciously as she picked at the sand in his coat. The cleaning went about as well as could be expected, and by the time she was done Barbara would have a merely dirty dog instead of a filthy one. Still, the amount of dirt didn’t stop Clipper from jumping up onto the bed and tracking paw prints over the sheets. He curled up at the foot of the bed and went to sleep, despite any protests that Barbara might have had.

The night was uneventful, without a single strange broadcast or so much as the flick of an eel’s tail. Barbara would awaken to the dog licking her hand and find that the sun was shining brightly. Clearly, the report about an incoming storm had been mistaken.
 
Barbara grumbled as she made herself comfortable in a little ball at the head of the bed. How did anyone sleep like this?? But she was so exhausted she was out like a light in seconds. She slept hard and dreamless, though things slithered at the edge of her subconscious. She was too tired even to dream of the eels.

She woke with a start. "What?" she mumbled, disoriented. She looked around to see Clipper licking her. "Ugh, really, dog?" she moaned, but she didn't pull away. It was kind of nice to wake up with someone, even if that someone was a dog. Maybe she should rethink her position on dogs. Then she looked at her bed.

Joints popped and creaked as she got up and stretched. A glance out the window brought a slight smile to her face. She grabbed her clothes and headed for the shower. A quick splash in hot water made her feel alive and awake. Maybe this whole thing had been a bad dream and the whale festival hadn't even started yet! She hummed happily as she got out and dried off. And saw the dog again. Nope. Not a dream. She dressed then used her damp towel to vigorously rub Clipper down a couple of times, using two towels just to get him looking like a dog and not a walking dirt heap.

"Come on, Clipper," she said, carefully attaching the leash once more. "Let's go get something to eat! Then we'll see Theo. Sorry about the leash, but I am not taking any chances." She headed out to see what the inn had to offer this morning.
 
Clipper perked up at the sound of Theo’s name...or perhaps it was the promise of food. Regardless, the dog panted and wagged his tail, following Barbara happily downstairs to breakfast. Today’s meal contained no eel, thankfully. It seemed that the catch of the day had already come in, and hadn’t contained a single one of the long, slimy creatures. Instead, Barbara and Clipper were met with a smorgasbord of sausages, eggs, crab cakes, and toast. The dog seemed perfectly happy to eat as many sausages as were put in front of him, as well as half of a crab cake and a pat of butter given to him by the innkeeper.

“I see you’ve taken in the dog,” said the woman as she watched Clipper eat the butter, “but I don’t see the owner. Where is he, and that tall boy with the funny hair that you came in with? I don’t believe I saw either of them come in last night.”
 
Barbara took a moment to answer. She was busy savoring the food like it was her first meal in a month! She never thought she'd ever miss sausage this much, but she took care to give Clipper his due. Finally, she brought herself to answer.

"Theo slipped the other day while trying to get this boy here," she nodded toward Clipper, "away from some loony who tried to dognap him. Then Charles..." She hesitated, a shadow flickering over her face. "There was an incident last night and he's in the hospital. In any case, as long as Charles can leave the hospital, we're off to home today." She looked down at Clipper. "You know, when you aren't getting much on my sheets, you aren't half bad."
 
“Dognapping?” asked the innkeeper, shocked. “On this island? Well, I never. Last time that happened, it was just some mainlander kids causing trouble. My goodness. Well, it sure is a good thing you’ve got him now. You take good care of him now, he seems to be a good dog.”

Giving the happy dog a pat on the head, she bustled off back to the kitchen, leaving Barbara to finish her breakfast in peace. Clipper seemed to enjoy the food even more than Barbara did, likely not used to getting so many sausages at once.

At the hospital, Barbara would find that Charles was free to be discharged. Sure, he was bitten to shreds and covered in bandages, but the nurses were more than willing to release him. They hadn’t provided him with any hair products at all, likely a traumatic experience for the boy. Theo was also out and about, limping around on crutches. Spotting Clipper, his face lit up and he hobbled over, only to be knocked over as the dog jumped on him.

“Ow! Get off me Clipper, I’m glad to see you too. Barbara, where’d you find him? He’s filthy, did you drag him through the mud or something? It doesn’t matter, it’s just good to see him. Uh...can someone help me up? I’m still getting used to these crutches.”
 
Brabara chuckled as she watched the dog. "Huh! You should have seen him before I tried to clean him up. Lucy had him, and he looked like a mud pile rolled in sand." She stepped forward and started to offer him a hand up, but before she could get him up, Charles all but tackled her.

"Barbara!" he wailed, holding her by the shoulders. "Please, you have some mouse, don't you? A combe? Hairspray? Something?" His limp hair lay in an untidy mess all over his head, hiding one eye.

"It's nice to see you, too, Charles," Barbara said, awkwardly patting his elbow. "No, I don't have anything for your hair. Sorry. I can get you a comb later."

Charles looked ready to cry as he swayed before her like a fluffy-haired mummy. "But... but... my hair!!"

"Is still attached to your head, so be happy," Barbara said, gently pushing him aside. She turned back to Theo while Charles pouted and helped him up, sticking the crutches under his arms. "Have you seen your cousin yet?"
 
Theo nodded, struggling to his feet as Charles helped him up. Clipper ran circles around his legs, jumping around wagging his tail. Clearly, someone was glad to see his owner.

“Yeah,” he said. “I saw her and Tim both. They’re...figuring things out. I got the story from Tim, but Lucy doesn’t seem to remember anything that’s happened over the past year. She said that the last thing she remembers is going for a swim, then something grabbed her and dragged her to the bottom...I dunno, it’s all really weird. Tim came in here dressed like a hot dog and stinking of liquor. I’m not sure if those two are going to stay together, but who knows?”

He sighed, patting Clipper on the head.

“Lucy’s alright, though, which is what I was really worried about. I would stay here with them for a little while but apparently they don’t actually have a house anymore, so I’ll be heading out on the ferry with you guys today. You ready to go?”
 
"Hot dog?" Charles muttered.

"Tim, the guy we talked to a while ago about the cousin," Barbara told him.

"Oh, yeah, him. She drove him round the bend, but then this whole place is enough to drive anyone nuts," Charles grumbled.

Barbara answered Theo's question. "All of our stuff is packed up and ready to go. I just have to grab our bags from the inn on our way to the ferry. I didn't pack any of your stuff, sorry." She glanced up the hospital hallway. She wished she could go talk to Lucy. So much had happened because of her! So many unanswered questions! What did it all mean?? She couldn't leave without at least trying!

She stood on a tower of writhing black eels...

She shuddered and turned away. No, she couldn't talk to Lucy without thinking about that. It was better to just let things lie. "Let's go grab our stuff and get out of here. I'm sure Lucy and Tim will be fine, especially once Tim sobers up."
 
“That sounds like a good idea,” said Theo. “Lucy said she’d call me, at least. Tim, too. I guess we’d better be heading off then, I gotta pack up quick if I want to make that ferry.”

He followed Barbara and Charles out the door and to the inn, Clipper in tow. An hour later, the three of them (plus Clipper) were boarding the ferry back to the mainland. Back on the shore, they’d be able to spot the mustachioed cop watching them smugly as he chewed on a donut. The sea was calm and blue today, entirely free of eels. Once on-board, Theo sat down on a seat and turned to Barbara and Charles.

“So,” he said. “Did you guys get a good story to report on?”
 
"The camera broke," Barbara said bitterly, turning to stare out at the beautiful waters. "I have nothing but whales and some humanity stories on the people of the island. It might keep me in a job. Maybe."

Charles snorted. "I'm never doing anything like that ever again." He'd retrieved a comb, and now he was drawing it obsessively through his still flat hair. "Not ever. I need a vacation. Might never go back."

Barbara glanced at him. He'd lost a lot of his usual speech patterns since the eel attack. It was nice for her since that meant she didn't have to try to translate everything in her head, but it kind of lost something that made Charles, well, Charles. She turned back to stare at the water. "It's almost like it never happened."

Charles' comb stilled. "You think it's dead? That it's all over?"

Barbara shook her head. "Oh, it's not dead. It might be over for this island, maybe, but that thing, whatever it was, is still out there. Somewhere. Most likely, it will turn up on some other island to prey on those poor fools."

She sighed. There was still so much left unanswered! Why had the Lucy creature taken Clipper? Where had it taken the dog? What did the lighthouse have to do with any of it? How had it gotten the tv to show that weird documentary-style show about the lighthouse hanging? And who was that poor soul who died? She'd almost suspected it to be Tim or Lucy, so who else could it have been? The creature hadn't seemed to like the light, so maybe it was the lighthouse keeper in an attempt to stop the lighthouse? So many questions and she would probably never learn the answers to any of them.

"So, what do you think?"

"Hmm? What?" Barbara said, turning back to Charles.

"I said," Charles repeated, "we should go into business together! The three of us! We could hunt down and film supernatural creatures. Even ghosts! We could be like... the Creature Hunters or something! Ghosts, goblins, ghouls, and galore! It could be a big hit! And if we can't get them on film, we could make like a fake documentary pretending like it's all fake but actually drawing from real-life things! It could all be very supernatural."

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Get a life, Charles. Who would watch that? No one would ever watch a show about a few people trying to chase down ghosts or other supernatural creatures." She looked out over the water. "It would have been fun, though... until we all died."

Her bag bumped against her leg, and she felt something hard. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the jar of eel oil she'd bought off the trader to make him talk. She stared at it for a long moment. Then stood and flung it as hard and far as she could out into the sea. It was still out there. Somewhere. And she was determined to never lay eyes on it ever again.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top