The Haunting of Tranquility Cove

The waitress eyed the five dollar bill on the table, glancing nervously over her shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, the bill vanished in a flash of motion, secreted away into her apron pocket. She watched the second bill as it fluttered in Barbara’s hand, clearly calculating something to herself.

“I...couldn’t rightly say,” she said, eyes never leaving the money. “It may not seem like it to you mainlanders, but lots of things happen here on Tranquility Cove. It’s hard to keep track of things that happened half a year ago, you know? I’m really not too sure, if you really want to dig deep maybe you should try watching the news.”

This last bit was said in a conspiratory whisper, with a quick glance over at the two old fishermen. From within the diner, a man shouted for the waitress, and she straightened up quickly.

“If that’s all,” she said, “I’d better get back to work. I hope you’re enjoying your meals.”

Snatching up the second bill (if offered,) she bustled off, hurrying back inside. Theo looked up at Barbara, confused.

“What was all that about?” he asked, finishing up the last of his soup.
 
The bill almost burned Barbara's fingers at the speed it was whipped out of them when she held it out. Barbara watched the waitress go with a slight frown, waiting until she was gone before answering Theo. "Sounds like your cousin vanishing and weird eels showing up isn't the only strange thing going on around here," she said. She finished her drink and stood. "Come on, Charles, we need to get our pictures taken."

Charles had his nose buried in his camera lens, cleaning it to a sparkling shine.

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Charles, with all the camera and hair product you have in that bag, you could light it on fire and toss it like a grenade."

"Fire? Where?" Charles asked, his head coming up in alarm.

"Under your chair. Come on! We have pictures to take, and I want to try to find this island's news station," Barbara said, smacking his shoulder.
 
“You think they’re connected?” asked Theo, surprised. “What would Lucy have to do with eels? She grew up in Minnesota, I don’t think they even have eels there. How could they possibly be connected? If you think there’s a link there, though...I’m coming with you. Besides, maybe the news people might know something about her.”

The sun had begun to set as they made their way to the news station, and a dense fog had begun to roll in from the sea. The heavy fog and convoluted directions given by the residents of the island made finding the news station an unnecessarily difficult ordeal, but they managed to make it to the Tranquility Cove Broadcasting Station just as the sun vanished over the horizon. Unfortunately for them, the tall brick building was closed, with a single security guard standing outside. He seemed unbothered by the cold and damp, and occupied himself with a pipe and an increasingly soggy newspaper. As the small group approached out of the fog, he looked up, face suddenly vanishing in a cloud of pipe smoke.

“TCBS is closed,” he said. “Won’t open back up until tomorrow at seven. You mainlanders had best get yourselves indoors, you’ll catch a cold out here in this weather.”
 
Barbara scowled when Theo invited himself along, but she couldn't say no, especially not after he'd bought dinner for them. Was that why he'd paid? To guilt them into letting him come along? Huh, it wouldn't work for long if that was the case. She bit her tongue and kept walking.

The fog was cold and clung to her like a wet shawl. She shivered as she glanced around. The previously busy streets were almost empty now, and much of the bright colors and cheerful voices had faded away. If she had a more active imagination, she'd call the place creepy. Where was everyone? It was just fog, and the island was too small to get seriously lost, as far as she could tell.

When the doorman/guard/security told them the place was cold, Barbara fought down the instinct to scowl. No, she'd wasted too much time already to turn back now. Instead, she gave him her best winning smile. "That's okay! We actually wanted to talk to you! I'm glad we caught you. I'm Barbara." She stuck out a hand confidently.
 
The guard, unmoved by Barbara’s bright smile, made no move to take her outstretched hand. Instead, he simply stared at her as though she were offering him a piece of dead fish, not saying a word. Theo glanced between the two of them, shuffling uncomfortably as the awkward moment stretched out. Eventually, the guard broke the silence, grumbling and puffing on his pipe.

“Why would you want to talk to me, Barbara?” he asked. “I haven’t got much to say. I’m just a night watchman. You really ought to be getting home. Wouldn’t want to be sick tomorrow and miss out on the festival, would you?”
 
Barbara let her hand drop. "Because the nightwatchman knows things," she said confidentially. "Because you have definitely been around and seen things, enough things to be warning me to go home when all it is is a little fog. We mainlanders know what fog is, and I can't say I'm frightened of it. Yet for some reason, you seem to be saying I should be. Why is that?"
 
“You know what fog is,” said the watchman, still watching her with a suspicious eye, “But do you know what trespassing is? How about police? I’d be happy to introduce you to both of those concepts, if you’re curious. If you really want to know why I want you going home, though, I’ll tell you.”

He folded his newspaper and looked each of them in the eye, one after another. His gaze lingered on Charles longer than the rest, but he eventually turned back towards Barbara.

“Every year,” he said, “Hundreds of mainlanders come over for the whale festival. Pretty much the only time we ever get mainlanders here, really. And every year, some mainlanders make it their business to sneak around the island at night tagging buildings and stealing signs and generally causing mayhem. It’s really quite a hassle, so if you three don’t want to be confused with such hooligans...I suggest you call it a night.”

The wind picked up, the damp air chilling them all to the bone. Theo glanced back into the fog, certain he’d heard someone calling his name, but saw nobody. It must have been the wind, he thought. Fog like this tended to feed overactive imaginations.
 
"Uh, Barbara? I really think we should be going now," Charles said uneasily. "Really. This fog is grody to the max. We should go. Please?" And he really didn't like the way the guy was looking at him.

Barbara stood her ground, studying the guard through narrowed eyes to prove she wasn't a pushover who would break down crying just because a guy spoke to her in a slightly mean tone. "Fine," she said at last, "we'll leave since you're going to be so rude as to call the police on a couple of polite, completely lost, helpless mainland erstwhile just trying to find their way around town." She gritted her teeth in a faximily of a smile and batted her eyelashes. "A poor, helpless dame just trying to make her way." She lost the smile to a scowl. "I know you're lying, Bobby, and I intend to find out why, so if harm comes to us, it's because you couldn't be bothered to flap your lip for five seconds." She turned on her heel and marched away.

"I really don't think that was a good idea," Charles said, glancing over his shoulder uneasily.

"Shut up, Charles, and brush your hair. The guy threatened to call the police because of a single question, and we weren't even trespassing. We were still on the sidewalk! Something is going on, and I intend to find out what!"
 
“Go on then,” said the guard, waving them off and unfolding his newspaper once more. “Don’t get lost, now. Fog’s awfully thick, wouldn’t want you wandering off a pier by accident.”

Theo followed the pair as they walked away, finding himself agreeing more with Charles than Barbara. That had seemed like a bad idea, but maybe this was just how journalists worked. How was he to know? He almost said something, but his train of thought was interrupted by a low growl. Looking down, he saw Clipper staring straight into the fog, growling at something he couldn’t see. Theo frowned, tugging on the dog’s leash.

“Come on, Clipper,” he said, concerned. “Leave it. Let’s go”

The dog reluctantly followed, but didn’t seem to relax one bit and kept looking back off the path into the fog. Theo squinted, but couldn’t see anything at all.

“He’s not usually like this,” he said, jogging to catch up with the others. “Maybe there’s a coyote or something. That’s weird.”

As they made their way back through the town, Charles would hear a very faint whisper coming from a dark alley as they passed by. It almost sounded as though someone were calling his name...or perhaps it was just the wind.

Chaaaaaaarles...
 
"Dogs growl at nothing all the time," Barbara said dismissively, striding forward, suddenly a complete authoritarian over a pet she'd never owned. "If he's never been on an island before, then he's probably just reacting to some weird smell. Come on. That night guard was telling the truth about one thing: It is cold!"

"What?" Charles demanded, jumping a little.

Barbara gave him a weird look. "I said it's cold."

"No, you said my name. Didn't you?" Charles demanded nervously. "Or you, Theo?"

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Oh for heaven's sake. Not you, too! Go back to paying attention to your hair. There are no coyotes and no one calling your name. Sheesh." Barbara was a very un-creative person in certain regards. She had little to no imagination, and she prided herself on that. A reporter should not make up fantasy, they should report exactly what was before their eyes. Even so... she could hear a faint scratching noise just on the edge of hearing, and it was driving her even more toward complete annoyance. It was likely a bunch of crabs or something. Islands had crabs, right?
 
Theo looked over at Charles, wondering if he ought to say something, but decided against it. The voice he’d heard earlier was just the wind, same as Charles was hearing. If he told the kid that he’d heard something as well, it would just spook him more. Besides, Barbara seemed to be getting increasingly irritable and he didn’t want to get slapped. Casting another gaze down at the dog beside him, he gave Clipper a reassuring rub on the head, trying to calm him down.

“I think we’re all a little edgy,” he said, trying to relieve the tension in the air. “It’s cold, it’s damp, and we’re all in an unfamiliar place. We’ll all be fine in the morning, you’ll see.”

The scratching continued just at the edges of Barbara’s hearing, just barely loud enough to be noticed in the silence of the foggy night. Still, the group would manage to reach the Whalebone Inn without being accosted by coyotes or crabs or anything else. Stepping inside, Theo headed straight upstairs, mumbling a soft “goodnight” to the others before stepping into his room. He was suddenly exhausted, realizing how tense he had been for the entire walk. That was strange? What had he been so anxious about? He didn’t have time to ponder this before he fell asleep, not even taking the time to take his socks off.
 
Charles muttered a terse goodnight and closed his bedroom door. He dropped his bag on his bed and started moving about restlessly. He was too strung out and stressed to instantly go to sleep, so instead, he cleaned every piece of camera equipment he owned, arranged his hair gels twice, and tried out a few new dance moves in the mirror. Finally, he changed into his pajamas and collapsed into bed. Maybe that job covering the "Puxatauni Phil" story wasn't so bad after all.

Barbara was determined not to let some spooky imagery or weird locals scare her. She was not scared! People were just being silly, and she couldn't abide that. She had a job to do! So while Charles was fidgetting in his room, she brushed and braided her hair neatly and went to bed. Voices in the fog, good grief! What was this? Some cheesy horror movie? Was the creature from the Black Lagoon going to come out of the water to attack some poor innocent girl who was too helpless to do anything but scream as he scooped her up and carried her off? Not her! She'd jab his eyes out if it tried anything like that on her. Not that it was real. It was just other people's overactive imaginations, nothing more. She got into bed and closed her eyes. She had a job to do in the morning, and it would never do to show up in front of the camera with bags under her eyes.
 
As exhausted as he was, Theo found himself entirely unable to sleep. Something was bugging him, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something important, or that there was something off about this place. No matter how much he tossed and turned, no matter how many sheep he counted, he just couldn’t seem to drift off. Clipper seemed to have no such problem, snoring loudly at the foot of his bed as Theo unsuccessfully tried to force himself to sleep.

And so, because of Theo’s sudden bout of insomnia, it came to pass that he was awake at 2:51 AM when the TV set in Barbara’s room suddenly flickered into life on its own accord. The screen depicted a calming scene of the island’s lighthouse, viewed from what must have been a boat floating in the ocean. A woman’s voice narrated the program, calm and smooth over the sound of the waves.

The sea is a beautiful place, full of life. It’s said that all life on earth originated from the sea, so many millions of years ago. The cradle of everything we know and love. Does it not make sense that we will return to this very sea from whence we came? The sea does not hate. The sea knows only love. Within its bosom there is only serenity and joy to be found.

Theo sat bolt-upright as he heard the sound of the television from the other room. Groping desperately for the remote, he turned on his own tv set and flicked through the channels, but was unable to find the same program. Jumping out of bed, he ran out of the room and banged on Barbara’s door, without so much as taking the time to put on his shoes.

“Barbara,” he called, not caring who he woke up. “Barbara, open up! What are you watching? That’s my cousin! That’s Lucy’s voice! What’s going on in there?”
 
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Barbara woke with a start and looked around blearily. Once she'd run through the usual "Who? What? Where?" questions, she half fell out of bed and grabbed what she thought was a blanket. She wrapped it around herself and opened the door. "What are you blathering about?" she demanded angrily. "I'm not watching anything! I'm Sleeping! Or at least I was."

Then she noticed two things: first, the blanket was, in fact, a silky undergarment. The second, her television was on. She decided to ignore the undergarment part. Men never understood what women's clothing was, anyway, so why should Theo know what it was? Instead, she turned and frowned at her set. "What is that doing on?" She turned an accusatory glare at Theo. "What have you been doing? How did you turn that on?"
 
Theo barely noticed Barbara’s state of dress (or lack thereof) as he rushed past her into the room, running to the TV set. He stared at it in confusion, watching the camera bob up and down at the surface of the water as Lucy’s voice continued to narrate.

The land is a cruel, bitter place. Sticks and stones will break your bones, but the sea will never hurt you. There is beauty in the sea. Even at its depths, there is life. There is light. Beneath the sea, there is even warmth. What can the land provide that cannot be found within the sea? The sea is our home, our mother, and so it shall be forever more.

“What is this?” asked Theo, turning to Barbara. He suddenly realized what she was wearing and flushed slightly, but otherwise paid little heed. This mysterious broadcast was the first he’d heard from his cousin in a very long time, and somehow was only picked up in this room.

“I didn’t turn this on! How could I have done that from my room? I thought you turned it on! What’s going on? That’s Lucy talking on that TV! How did you do that?”

He turned back, and found that the program was still going.

The land punishes. The sea forgives. Seek comfort in its depths, untainted by the light of the sun. Unbothered by the troubles of the land. Beneath the sea, who can hear the sound of the hangman’s rope? At the bottom of the sea, you will find peace. You will find love. Come with me. Join me.

As Theo watched, mouth agape, the floating camera zoomed in on the lighthouse. A figure was standing on the balcony, staring off the edge into the black water. It was too grainy to identify who it was or what they were doing until the blurry figure climbed up onto the rail and threw himself off the edge. The camera followed him down until he stopped suddenly, jerking to a halt on the end of a rope secured to the rail above. Theo gasped, stumbling backwards as the camera zoomed out.

“Did you see that?” he asked, pointing shakily at the screen. “Was that real? This isn’t live, is it?”

Come beneath,” continued Lucy’s voice on the TV. “At the bottom of the sea, there is no grief. No sadness. No pain. Come, and feel the warmth of the sea’s embrace.”

The camera began to descend, sinking down beneath the ocean’s surface. As it descended into the dark water, the screen became darker and darker until the TV set shut off with a click. Theo stared at the set, then at Barbara, speechless at what he’d just witnessed.
 
Barbara, for once, couldn't find any words as she stared at the black tv screen. That was freaky this was all so- Then her jaw closed with a click as her rational brain caught up. "Look," she snarled, "I don't know what kind of games you are playing, Mister, but get out of my room, right now! This isn't funny!" She stormed over to the set and started looking. "I don't know what possessed you to fake some kind of hanging and all this other nonsense, but it ends here! You got that?" She couldn't even find a VCR, let alone a tape. VCRs were still relatively new and must not have made it into every room of this crummy little backwater inn.

"Uh... what's going on?" Charles asked, finally making an appearance. He gazed blearily into the room, half of his hair smashed flat, the other leaning to the left in a wave. He looked between Theo and Barbara then blushed even as he leered. "Did I interrupt something?"

Barbara turned on Charles, her fury growing as she couldn't find the source. "Yes! You interrupted some maniac trying to play with us! I'm not falling for it again. You!" She pointed to Theo. "Out! Or I'll be the one calling the police on you! You really think I'm so stupid that I wouldn't figure out your little game? That I'm some helpless dame who'll faint into your arms? As if! You planned this whole thing and set it up. You probably even have accomplices."
 
“I’ve got nothing to do with it!” protested Theo, backing up out of the room. “I’m as confused as you are! I’ve never even been to this island before, how could I have done anything like that? This isn’t my fault!”

Still, he backed up hurriedly and retreated to his room. She was real mad, and he certainly didn’t need to get smacked or have the police called on him. What was wrong with her? How could she possibly think that he’d caused this? He’d been in his room! Sighing, he laid back in his bed, shushing the suddenly-concerned dog. Perhaps she’d see reason in the morning...but aside from that, what even was that weird broadcast? That had been Lucy’s voice, hadn’t it? It had to have been...but what was she even talking about? It sounded almost like some kind of cult talk...but Lucy wouldn’t have gotten herself involved in some weird cult, would she? He groaned, sitting up and flicking his own tv set on. There was no way he’d be getting any sleep tonight, that was for sure.
 
Charles retreated quickly to his room, still smirking. He wasn't certain what was going on other than Barbara was mad as a wet hen and dressed in an interesting fashion with a fellow in her room. He wouldn't be persuing any inquires about that, oh no! But now he had some ammo to use against her if she started acting particularly bitchy toward him. Again.

Barbara, for her part, made certain her door was locked with a chair in front of it. She eyed the tv for a minute then took off the undergarment and carefully draped it over the set. Theo had something to do with all of this. She was sure of it! She only had his word that it was his first time here, and it was certainly quite a coincidence that he should end up with a room right next to a reporter, and talking to the linnkeeper lady right when said reporter walked in. Then to buy them both a lobster dinner just for agreeing to keep their eyes open? Highly suspect. Then, of course, insisting on accompanying them to the news station. All for the sake of some cousin. A sister, she could see going to all this trouble for, but a cousin? Who did that for a cousin? She still didn't know how he'd done that thing with her tv, but it was sick and wrong. Electronics were getting better all the time. After all, they were sending people to the moon and still able to talk to them, for heaven's sake! Rigging up a tv wouldn't be that hard.

She laid back down and curled up under the blankets. Only when she was almost asleep did the nagging thought finally work its way free. What if it wasn't a hoax?

Early the next morning, Barbara roused Charles, and they went down to get breakfast from the innkeeper. It wasn't bad. A little dry, but not bad. The fresh juices helped. The day had dawned deary and overcast, not at all promising for the outdoor festivities, and Barbara scowled into her scrambled eggs. Great. Her assignment was getting fouled up, and it wasn't even in her control this time!
 
As she and Charles got their eggs, Barbara would be met by the innkeeper once more. The woman looked worried, her face pale and drawn. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking, as though unsure whether or not she ought to say anything.

“Uh...there’s something you ought to know,” she said. “Covering the festival and all. The parade route has been...rerouted. It usually ends right in front of the lighthouse, but something...happened last night. The police have the whole lighthouse roped off, they’re not letting anyone in or telling us anything, but one of the fishermen said he saw a...a body hanging from the gallery. Oh, it’s too horrible to think about.”

She sniffled and hurried off, clearly shaken by the whole affair. A moment later, Theo walked down the stairs, looking positively haggard from the sleepless night. He shuffled groggily over to the coffee machine and poured himself a large mug, along with several spoonfuls of sugar and a generous splash of milk. Wandering over to Barbara and Charles, he blinked blearily at them, sipping at his coffee in an effort to get his brain working.

“Hey,” he said, voice cracking in his dry throat. “Sorry about last night. Must have been a bad dream or something. Couldn’t have been her voice, I dunno what I was thinking.”
 
Barbara was still staring after the innkeeper while Charles was hiding his anxiety by stuffing food into his mouth as fast as he could. When she heard Theo's voice, she turned slowly toward him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Outwardly, her expression spoke of nothing but sullen anger and warning. Inwardly, her heart sped up, her gut twinging in fear. She waited for Theo to stop speaking before she responded, her voice low and harsh.

"Look, buddy, I don't know what kind of sick game you think you are playing or what kind of cult you are rooting for, but if you come one inch closer, I'm screaming bloody murder and telling the cops what you're involved in, you and your phantom cousin. I don't play games, got it?"
 
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