The Gathering Darkness

  “Are you just getting up?” she moaned.

  “No. Ah, I’ve been up for a while.” Obviously she hadn’t remembered or even noticed I’d gone missing the previous night. “Can I get you something? You look awful.”

  “A gallon of ice water would be nice.” With both hands she scratched her entire head, messing her hair up further.

  A quick search of the compact cabin, led me back to the door where a short counter with a tiny sink was built onto the wall. Below it, a small fridge fit snuggly under the counter. The fridge was stocked with hangover elixirs—bottled water and soda. I grabbed us each a bottle of water.

  “Here.” I unscrewed the cap off the bottle and handed it to Robyn. She audibly gulped down half without stopping and then handed it back to me. Her eyes fell shut before her head of dark curls hit the pillow again. She stayed silent, so I left her to her misery.

  I found my bag of toiletries on the floor in the small space between the foot of the bed and the wall, and took the opportunity of being alone, well almost alone, to brush my teeth with some of my drinking water. I pulled my hair brush through my tangles, raking out bits of moss and other debris as I did, and then looked for a place to sit down. The benches had been transformed into the bed, which Robyn slept in, so there wasn’t any place inside to sit.

  I limped my way out of the cabin and sat on one of the benches molded into the side of the boat. The fog had evaporated completely, and the warmth of the sun wrapped itself around my chilled body. I sat sideways, stretching my injured leg out on the bench, and pulled my pant leg up. My ankle was puffy, so I held the water bottle against it, wincing when the cold touched it.

  “It looks swollen.”

  My heart fluttered at the sound of a now familiar voice. I looked up. “I think it’s getting worse,” I said, wincing again as shooting stabs of pain shot up my leg.

  “You shouldn’t have walked on it.” Marcus jumped onto the boat, making it rock slightly, and sat down by my foot.

  “What should I have done then, stayed in bed until it got better?”

  His cheeks lifted into a grin at my sarcasm. “I wasn’t complaining.”

  I let out a sharp huff and pursed my lips. His expression grew serious, while my cheeks grew warm.

  “I jumped onto the damn boat and made it worse.”

  “Don’t curse Claire.” He smiled fondly.

  “Who’s Claire?” I had been rolling the cold bottle back and forth along the side of my ankle, and the skin there started to get numb. I lifted the bottle away to get a clear view.

  “You’re sitting on her,” he answered. Instead of looking at me, he put one hand on the back of my calf and proceeded to push my pant leg past my ankle. He succeeded by a couple inches.

  “The boat? Ouch!”

  With light fingers, Marcus pushed on the swelling.

  “The boat’s name is Claire?”

  His eyes darted to mine. “Sorry.” He stopped poking. “Yeah, meet Claire,” he said, patting the back of the molded seat.

  My mind darted back to the dreams I’d had all week. I could see Marcus bathed in light, I could hear him saying the name, “Claire.”

  “Why Claire?”

  He gave a quick laugh. “It’s stupid really.”

  “What? Tell me,” I coaxed

  Whether he realized it or not, the hand that had been poking at the swelling now rested on my leg. A light breeze blew hair into my eyes. I quickly tucked it behind my ear, never taking my gaze from Marcus’.

  “Claire’s a girl I used to dream about,” he said. The sudden blush on his cheeks peeked through the tan.

  “You had a crush on Claire?” I couldn’t help but smile.

  He laughed. “No, no. I used to call the name out in my sleep when I was little. No one knows why, or who Claire is.”

  I almost stopped breathing. Tell him. TELL HIM. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the dream, because that would be admitting that I dreamed about him.

  “Cool,” I said quietly.

  “So, when I was ten years old and we got the boat, my mom and dad were talking about a name, and I suggested Claire, so that’s what they named it.”

  I nodded, watching the breeze lift dark wisps of hair off his forehead.

  “So, you’re not going to laugh at my imaginary girlfriend?”

  “No. I think it’s sweet.” Sweet and significant.

  With my teeth ground together, I lifted my knee, putting too much pressure on my ankle and quickly gave up.

  “You look like you’re in a lot of pain. Do you want some Tylenol?”

  I nodded. I hadn’t realized my face had contorted into a grimace, but even now that I was aware of it, my expression didn’t change. I was in pain.

  Marcus disappeared inside the cabin. I let my arm rest over the side of the boat. “So you’re, Claire,” I said softly, caressing the smooth, white side with my hand. Over my shoulder, I could see people back on the beach acting as if it was still the night before. Some were even drinking alcohol already. One guy chased an overly dramatic screaming girl. When he caught her, they landed on the sand together, entangled in a heated kiss. I didn’t see Megan anywhere.

  I felt a brush of air beside me and turned away from the beach. Marcus had emerged with a bottle of Tylenol and a bottle of water for himself. He passed me the Tylenol and sat down on the bench again. My heart almost stopped beating when he gently lifted my leg up and laid it across his lap. I sucked a sharp intake of air through clenched teeth to keep from crying out with pain.

  “You should keep it elevated,” he said.

  So, after our mysterious disappearance, there we sat, alone together, neither of us caring to be anywhere else.

  A loud thump and a gentle rocking of our boat made me look up. Justin, Sammy’s new guy interest, and some other guy, had piled onto another boat behind Marcus’.

  “Well, I’d better get you home, unless you want to wait for Evan,” Marcus said casually.

  Before I could answer, Sammy was on our boat carrying my hoodie and cell phone.

  “So, what happened anyway?” she asked in her excited voice, her eyes popping from their sockets.

  The unexpected intrusion made me feel self-conscious and I jerked my foot off Marcus, causing little needles of pain to shoot through my leg. Carefully, I lowered it to the deck. Sammy stood with her hands on her hips looking questioningly from Marcus to me.

  Marcus got up. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He left the boat completely and went to talk to some friends on the beach.

  “Brooke, you’re not paying any attention to me.” Sammy snapped her fingers at me. “You just can’t take your eyes off him can you?”

  She sat in Marcus’ empty spot staring at me, playing with an end of her hair, while periodically eyeing Justin in the other boat. I lowered my eyes. This was the moment I dreaded.

  “So, tell me, what did you two do in the woods all night together?” Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “We didn’t do anything, Sammy.” I sighed and began my explanation. “Remember how I went into the woods alone, because Robyn was running towards the water throwing her clothes off, and you had gone to save her from drowning? She’s got a wicked hangover by the way.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Well, I got lost, and then I fell into a hole. Well, Marcus had called it an old abandoned well shaft, and I hurt my ankle.” With a sharp intake of air, I lifted it slightly. “It was almost dark when he found me.” The farther into the tale I got, the more vivid it became in my mind, as if I was there again. “We walked for a long time. It got dark real quick, and we couldn’t see to walk anymore, so Marcus made us a fire, and we slept beside it until morning.”

  “Uh-huh. You just slept?”

  By the look she gave me, I could tell she waited for me to tell her something juicy, but I had nothing more to say on the matter.

  “Did he kiss you?”

  “No! Nothing happened!”

  “You
can tell me. I won’t say anything,” she persisted.

  I raised my voice. “But, Sammy, nothing happened. I swear. He was a perfect gentleman.”

  She looked truly disappointed.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s the truth.”

  I leaned forward to look at my ankle, and when I leaned back, the weight of the pendant fell against my chest reminding me of its presence. I decided not to tell Sammy about it. Not yet anyway. For some reason, I felt compelled to keep it a secret from everyone except Marcus. It would be our secret—something special between us. I would consult him first if I felt the urge to tell Sammy or anyone else about it.

  As I grew uncomfortable with Sammy’s inquisition, Marcus came back to the boat alone. “Are you coming with us, Sammy?” he asked her.

  Just then a muffled moan came from inside the cabin.

  “Oh, right,” Sammy said looking at me. “I’ll have to come with you, unless you want to take care of her?”

  “Ah, no. I can barely walk. You’re coming.”

  “Oh, alright.” She pouted and looked over at Justin, still on the other boat.

  Marcus sat at the helm and started the cruiser. Justin made Sammy’s morning by jumping onto Marcus’ boat and coming with us.

  As we cruised closer to the mainland, I noticed the size of the Island. It really wasn’t very big. “How in the hell did I ever get lost out there?” I said to no one in particular.

  Sammy, who sat beside Justin in the seat behind the helm, was the only one who acknowledged my question.

  “It isn’t very big. How could anyone get lost on Skull Island?” She said it in a way that I knew meant she didn’t believe my story.

  I shuddered, remembering the pieces of bone in the well. I had been alone with them for a short while and was glad now that it had been too dark to see down there.

  A half-hour later, Marcus expertly pulled the boat up alongside his wharf. Justin and Sammy had been whispering to each other, until Marcus cut the engine. She looked at me, and then to Marcus, as if undecided who to address with whatever she was about to say.

  “Um, Marcus.”

  He looked at her, while picking a few empty beer cans up off the deck of the boat.

  “Do you think you could take Brooke home?”

  She just threw me under the bus. “Sammy!” My back straightened off the backrest.

  She looked at me apologetically then she looked at Marcus waiting eagerly for his answer.

  “Sure. It’s no problem. I can take you home,” he said.

  I gave Sammy the evil eye. She gave me a wink. I didn’t know if it pertained to her or to me.

  Just then, Robyn staggered onto the deck. One hand blocked out the bright sunshine from her eyes, the other held a second bottle of water—or maybe a third. “I cleaned up inside,” she said with a scratchy voice.

  “You didn’t puke did you?” Sammy asked.

  “Of course not,” Robyn shot back, then added sheepishly, “Not in the boat anyway.”

  Sammy looked at me then. “Um, Brooke … .”

  “Forget it.” I wasn’t taking care of Robyn so Sammy could go off to who knows where with Justin.

  Marcus, who had just done a quick check of the cabin and was back outside, said to Robyn, “We can take you home.”

  “Or,” Justin said, grinning, “We can take you home.”

  “Gee thanks! I’ve never felt so wanted,” Robyn said with mocking sarcasm.

  Sammy tapped her fingers against the seat of the boat, waiting for Robyn to decide. I really didn’t mind if she came with Marcus and me. If he wanted to see she got home safe, who was I to stand in the way?

  After a moment Robyn said, “I can’t believe I’m going to pass up two hot offers, but I really need the walk.” She rummaged through the bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses with white plastic frames, and slid them on her face.

  “No one can pull off a hangover like you can,” Sammy complimented her.

  With confidence, Robyn climbed the ladder and strutted down the wharf as if it was a cat-walk. “Later,” she called out when she reached the end.

  Justin, who also lived on the Peninsula, walked with Sammy to his house to get his car.

  “I guess you’re stuck with me,” I said, as Marcus busied himself with tying up the boat.

  He grinned. “I don’t consider it a chore.”

  Marcus helped me onto the wharf. When I stepped onto solid ground, I turned back to look at the boat. The name Claire was written on its side in a beautiful loopy font.

  “I have to go and get the car. Why don’t you wait in the boathouse?”

  “The boathouse?”

  “Yeah. Come on, I’ll help you.”

  The boathouse was a smaller version of a two story house. A narrow wall of beach stone faced me as I walked in. On either side, a grid of windows, stretching from floor to ceiling, made up the front wall.

  “Wow. This is awesome.”

  He helped me to sit down on a light blue sofa then went to the refrigerator. “Can I get you something to drink? How about some food? You must be starving.”

  “No, I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Will you be alright until I get back?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll be fine.” I brushed my injury off as if it were a scratch.

  “The remote’s on the table in front of you if you want to watch TV. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay.” I waved him off.

  The flat screen TV sat on top of the fireplace mantle—a thick piece of grayed driftwood. Through the grid of windows, I could see two more boats coming to shore. One would have Evan on it. A twinge of guilt gnawed at my stomach.

  Instead of watching TV, I found the washroom and then hopped back to the sofa. It was near noon, and the sun shone through the endless windows, splashing the polished wood floors with its golden rays. The mood inside the boathouse was so serene, I almost felt as if I was on a vacation. I couldn’t help but sink into the soft cushions.

  I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Evan. He sat on the edge of the sofa, leaning over me.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  “Huh?” I pushed myself into a sitting position and looked around the room.

  “Marcus isn’t here.” His dreamy tone wavered. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  He turned his head to the window. I could tell he truly was sorry for the way he’d acted, which added to my guilt, because I was glad everything had happened the way it had.

  “I shouldn’t have treated you like that.” To my horror, he picked up my hand and held it. “I believe you, if you say nothing happened.”

  “You’re right! You shouldn’t have. And nothing happened. I got lost, he found me, and by then it was too dark to find our way out of the woods, so we waited until morning.”

  He still looked doubtful. “It’s just that, well, the Island isn’t that big and—”

  “He yelled. No one answered. It was dark. We couldn’t see to go on. There was nothing we could do.” I was mad at myself for giving him more of an explanation than he deserved.

  His hand found the side of my face. I cringed away slightly. Evan didn’t seem to notice.

  “Do you forgive me?” He rested his hand on my cheek; his fingers entangled themselves in my hair.

  “Yeah, let’s just forget about it.”

  I almost stopped breathing when he pulled me into his arms, and that’s when Marcus walked in. Quickly, I pushed myself away from Evan, as if I’d just gotten caught doing something wrong.

  “I can take her home,” Evan said dryly to Marcus, who stood framed by the doorway.

  I realized then that Evan hadn’t even asked me about my ankle. He must have seen me limping out of the woods.

  “Let me up.” I pushed him out of the way and stood on one foot. “Marcus can take me home. He needed the car for something else anyway, so he might as well drop me off on the way.” I lied to Eva
n. I didn’t want him to take me home. I limped to the door. Evan didn’t offer to help me walk.

  “No.” It was Marcus.

  I froze to the spot halfway between the sofa and the door and looked at Marcus.

  “Evan can take you. I just remembered I have something else I have to do.”

  Clearly hurt, he turned and walked out of the boathouse. It felt as if I’d been stabbed in the chest. I had to explain that the hug meant nothing. It was more Evan hugging me than me hugging him. But by the time I’d gotten to the door, he had disappeared. My shoulders fell. I walked by myself out to the Civic.

  Chapter Eleven

  Silence accompanied Evan and me on the drive to Aunt Rachel’s. I sat frowning, staring out the side window, wondering if Marcus would even speak to me again. Things had gone horribly wrong at the boathouse, leaving an empty ache inside me.

  Finally, we pulled into Aunt Rachel’s driveway. Before I could get out of the car, Evan reached his arm across my backrest. I looked at him for the first time since getting into the car. His boyish grin touched his eyes.

  “So, am I forgiven?”

  “Yeah, just forget about it,” I said dryly.

  I grabbed the door handle and eased myself out, careful not to bang my injured ankle on the door frame. “Thanks for the drive.” I shut the door with more force than necessary and limped away.

  “Need any help?” Evan called out from the driver’s side window, after I was halfway up the driveway.

  I didn’t turn around. “Nope. I’m great. See ya.”

  “Okay. See ya later.”

  There was a flicker of disappointment in his tone. I had a moment of pity for him. Maybe he deserved a better explanation, but I just wasn’t in the mood. My frown deepened. If my actions of today weren’t clear enough for him, then I would just have to suffer through the humiliation and give it to him straight.

  Aunt Rachel and Uncle Jim met me at the front door, which surprised me.

  “Sammy called,” Aunt Rachel began, “she said you hurt your ankle and Marcus happened to be driving by—” She craned her neck to see past me, stopping in mid sentence. “But that was Evan wasn’t it?”

  I quickly caught on to the lie Sammy had told. “Uh, yeah. She must have meant Evan.”