Tracy tilted her seat back and listened to the hypnotic drone of the bus. She was having second thoughts about this trip. It would have been so much faster to fly instead of taking a five-hour bus trip. She was on her way to spend part of the summer at her grandparents’ home in their small northeastern town. Her parents were already there. She thought it would be fun to take the scenic route. It seemed like a good idea, at first, but now she wasn’t so sure. I’m eighteen, she thought. I can handle this. Why the uncertainty? She hadn’t slept much last night. In fact, she hadn’t slept much all week. This wasn’t just a combination of nerves and excitement. It was a growing uneasiness, a fear, a premonition.

  Her thoughts trailed off as she stared out the window. The highway wove in and out of the cliffs, playing hide and seek with the ocean. It became a series of sharp turns, cutting through the tree-covered hills and alternating ravines. The bus pulled into a circular driveway and rolled to a stop in front of a Victorian style, three-story house.

  “Thirty minute rest stop, folks,” the bus driver said.

  Tracy felt weary from the trip. Her legs wobbled a little when she stepped off the bus but that feeling went away. She took a quick look at her surroundings while the other passengers headed inside. The house was light gray with white wooden shutters, railings, and posts. A flowerbed filled with pink and purple blossoms provided a colorful contrast in front of the porch. The place appeared inviting even though it was isolated. A wooden sign posted in the front yard read:

  WELCOME TO CLIFF TOP INN

  It’s a catchy name, she thought, but I don’t see any cliffs.

  She followed the last of the passengers inside. The lobby consisted of a matching sofa and chairs with finely carved mahogany and upholstered in green silk. Matching end tables, a crystal chandelier, and a Persian rug added to the setting. The reception desk was in an alcove with framed photos on the wall, some in color and some had faded to a sepia tone. A pleasantly plump, round-faced woman, in her sixties, stood in front of the desk, greeting her newest visitors.

  “Welcome! Please come in. The dining room is to the left. You may either order from the menu or we have a deli counter with bakery items and sandwiches.”

  “We only have thirty minutes,” one of the men from the bus grumbled. “You’d think the driver would give us more time.”

  The woman’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “Oh, now, everyone. The facilities are along the hallway, just before you get to the dining room. You may order something to go. Feel free to walk around, it’s a lovely day. My name is Ida Mae Watkins. I’m the owner here. If you have any questions, please ask.”

  A gangly teenager was shuffling his feet next to Tracy. “Talk about a time warp,” he muttered. “This place is creepy.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” Tracy had her camera ready and snapped a picture of the lobby. “I love old houses. They have their own stories.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and headed for the deli counter. Several of the passengers were already in line. Tracy ordered a sandwich and cola to go, and decided to walk around the outside of the inn. A small, stone path ran parallel to the flowerbeds in front and wrapped around the building. The yard in back was level and looked as peaceful as the front. But as she walked away from the inn, she felt an uneasiness that she couldn’t explain.

  She heard a distant roar. It didn’t sound like an animal, but it would come and go as it gradually grew louder. The area was still level even though trees rose up along the sides of the property. She looked over her shoulder at the inn. It was straight behind her. Good. She hadn’t wandered off in another direction. The air quality had changed. It felt damp and heavy. She took one more step and stopped suddenly. Before her, a sharp drop down a cascade of jagged rocks plunged to the waves crashing below. She tried to steady herself, but had the feeling of being pulled towards the pounding waves.

  “No!” She forced herself to step back away from the edge of the cliff. She turned abruptly to run back to the bus but ran into a gruff-looking man instead.

  “You shouldn’t stand so close to the edge.” His tone was blunt, scolding. His set jaw and sharp eyes made him look angry. “It’s not safe.”

  Tracy glanced at the inn. It was farther away than she’d realized. “I was going for a short walk before boarding the bus again.”

  “They should put the sign up. Like I said, it’s not safe. Now, go on. Go on!” He waved his arm toward the inn.

  She ran from him, away from the cliff’s edge, and didn’t stop until after she’d crossed the front yard. She stumbled along the sidewalk to the circular drive trying to catch her breath. Where was the bus? This is where they were supposed to meet. Her wristwatch indicated that only twenty minutes had passed since she’d first arrived. What happened? She looked at the inn, hoping to see some of the passengers on the porch, but they weren’t there. Her mind was spinning. What’s going on? Where is everyone? As she turned to look at the empty driveway, she saw her luggage on the curb a few feet away.

  “No-o-o-o!!” She was on the verge of tears. “No! I can’t believe the bus left.”

  “You’ll be staying here until the next bus arrives?” It was the same man who had been at the cliff. He still looked so stern.

  “I don’t know. When will that be?”

  “Tomorrow, same time.”

  “Tomorrow!? I can’t!” She stared at him. “I need to let my parents know that I won’t be on the bus. They were going to pick me up.” She got out her cell phone. No signal. She tried again. No signal. “Is there a phone I could use?”

  “Come.” He picked up her luggage and she followed him inside. He put it on the floor next to the front desk and told her he’d go get the owner. Tracy studied the photographs lining the wall. They were evidently of various guests over the years. One of the faded photographs caught her eye. She went to the next photo, and the one after that. The same man was in several photos. He looked like the one who had carried her luggage.

  Ida Mae walked into the lobby carrying some magazines. She was a little out of breath. “Oh hello, dear. I didn’t realize anyone was here. I was just tidying up; putting these magazines out so guests could look at them.” She put a few on each end table. “There now.” She saw Tracy’s luggage and came over to her. “Say, weren’t you in here earlier with the bus passengers?”

  “Yes. I went for a walk out back. I thought I had plenty of time but my watch must have stopped.” She held up her cell phone. “I need to call my family but I can’t get a signal. Could I use yours?”

  “Of course, dear. Let me get it for you.” She went behind the desk and handed the phone to Tracy.

  “Thank you. The man that was outside, is he the caretaker?”

  Ida Mae gave her a perplexed look. “We haven’t had a caretaker on staff here for years. The last full-time caretaker fell over the cliff. His body was discovered several days later.”

  Tracy suddenly felt cold. “Well, maybe the man I saw lives around here or is one of your guests. He’s in several of these pictures.” She pointed to one of a man standing in front of the porch steps.

  The owner caught her breath. Her cheerful nature was shaken. “Oh no, dear, that’s not possible. That was our caretaker who went over the cliff. Poor man. I was a little girl at the time. There were a lot of stories but I don’t think anyone really knew what happened. Besides, as faded as that picture is, it could have been anyone. Well, you have a nice chat with your parents and I’ll go get the key to your room.”

  Tracy spoke to her mother and told her about missing the bus. “If you were to come and pick me up, it would be dark by the time you’d get here. I’ll stay here tonight and take the bus tomorrow. Love you.”

  Ida Mae came in the lobby holding a key as Tracy ended her call. Her busy, rosy-cheeked personality had returned. She asked Tracy to gather her things and follow her upstairs. The room had the same style of furniture as the lobby and a window that faced the back property.

  “This is
one of our smaller rooms, but under the circumstances, dear, your stay being last minute, I’m sure you won’t mind.”

  “Oh, not at all. This is perfect. Thank you.” She looked out the window and added, “You said there were stories about that man. I’d like to hear them sometime.”

  Ida Mae looked nervous. “There’s really nothing to tell. He was the caretaker. One of the guests got too close to the edge. He saved whoever it was but then lost his footing and fell over the cliff. Any additional information is pure speculation.” She started to go out the door but stopped. “I will say though that the incident became quite the main topic of discussion for people in this area for awhile. Well, come downstairs for dinner whenever you’re ready.”

  Tracy locked the door and unpacked a few things. She washed her face and changed clothes. She felt better once the bus ride was washed off. I think the owner knows more than she’s telling about the old caretaker, she thought. I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m only here for one night. She looked at her watch and wondered if it was showing the right time. It had stopped earlier. That’s why she’d missed the bus. Now, she was hungry. It was time to go downstairs.

  Tracy didn’t know what to expect at dinner. The food was excellent but there were only three other people in the dining room, and they were part of the staff. After she’d finished eating, she took a closer look at a bookcase in the lobby. A sign on the wall indicated that these books were for the reading pleasure of the guests. One book was lodged at the back of a shelf. She took it down and opened it--a Scrapbook of Cliff Top Inn. It had old newspaper clippings, pictures, and letters in chronological order about the inn. She sat in one of the chairs and turned the pages hoping to find information about the man’s death.

  A headline read:

  BELOVED CARETAKER PLUNGES TO HIS DEATH TRYING TO SAVE HOTEL GUEST. A guest got too close to the edge of the cliff. Local resident saves guest but loses his footing. Body found a few days later.

  Other headlines:

  MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES SURROUNDING DEATH AT LOCAL INN. No guard rails or signs posted.

  CLIFF TOP INN TO CLOSE PENDING INVESTIGATION. Guests report seeing a man fall off the cliff. All descriptions are the same. Cliff Top Inn renamed Ghost Inn by locals.

  NEW OWNER VOWS TO REOPEN CLIFF TOP INN. Mrs. Ida Mae Watkins, former resident of the area, has purchased Cliff Top Inn and is restoring it to its former glory. Her family moved away from here when she was a child but she is happy to be home again.

  She turned another page. There weren’t any more clippings about the incident but a handwritten piece of paper was stuck in the crease. It wasn’t addressed to anyone.

  I can’t wait to leave. I never want to see this place again. To think we almost lost her because no sign was posted to warn of the danger. Thank heavens the caretaker was nearby. He caught her before she reached the edge. But the danger wasn’t over. The ground still had dew on it. He slipped. It happened so fast, no one could reach him in time. I still have nightmares about it. No sooner than his body hit the rocks, he was washed out to sea. I’ll never come back.

  Tracy put the paper back in the book, and put the book on the shelf where she’d found it. She went to her room feeling like her day had gotten the better of her. Once in bed though, she couldn’t sleep. What was the connection? She got up and looked out the window. The light from the full moon highlighted the mist hovering around the cliff’s edge. She started to get back in bed but saw something. Someone was running. A man followed by a woman. He ran into the mist. The woman fell on her knees. She was sobbing. I-da, I-da. She said that name over and over. Then she screamed a piercing scream that shattered the night. A man yelled out but his voice was overpowered by the crashing waves. That was followed by complete silence. It was over.

  The next morning, Tracy packed before going down to a late breakfast. She saw Ida Mae in the lobby and told her what she’d read. “I know what happened. You were the little girl the caretaker saved. That’s why you came back.”

  “Yes. We were spending the weekend here. There was a thick mist. I thought it would be fun to run through it. I didn’t know the cliff was there. He saw me running and grabbed me before I got to the edge. My mother was holding me when I heard her scream. She wouldn’t let me turn around. We moved within two weeks and never came back here. I found old clippings and letters in our attic about what had happened. I decided to come home.” She gave Tracy a warning look. “No one knows the whole story. They don’t know I was the person he saved.”

  Tracy smiled. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone, alive that is. I’m going to walk around one more time before I bring my stuff down and wait for the bus.”

  She went to the back of the property, but remembered to stay a safe distance away from the edge of the cliff. She took a deep breath. The crisp, morning air filled her lungs and lifted her spirits. The same man she’d seen the day before appeared by her side now. She smiled at him.

  “I wanted to thank you for warning me about the cliff yesterday. I know who you are and what happened. That was terrible. Ida Mae said there’s normally a sign back here now warning people, but it was taken down last week for repairs. She said the inn opens for tourist season next week so the sign will be put up again later today. Well, I’ve got to go but, thank you.”

  She turned to go back to the lobby and wait for the bus. After she was on board and seated, she looked out the window. Two people were waving to her. One was Ida Mae, the other was the caretaker.

  THE END

  VACATION INTERRUPTED

  by Debra Parmley

  https://www.amazon.com/Debra-Parmley/e/B002BM9H4A