Page 3 of Love Over Easy

Shyanne

As the ferry nears the dock, a surge of cautious anticipation causes knots to form in my stomach. I let my gaze wander over the passengers once more. Everyone looks normal and aren’t the least bit interested in me. Ironic, as that rarely happens.

Since the day I read about Faire Island’s new restoration plan, I started planning my escape. Escape. That’s what I truly call what I’ve pulled off.

I pick up my suitcase and wince when I move too quickly. I hug my chest with my other arm to protect my ribs and then I blend in with everyone else getting off the ferry. Since I left home three days ago, I’ve gotten to be an expert at becoming invisible. Nondescript black jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and a dark gray hoodie. Even my hair is now an ordinary shade of brown, thanks to a $10.99 box of hair dye from a drug store in Atlanta. I’m a five-foot, five-inch, forgettable woman. I wonder how long the temporary dye will last. My hoodie slips off one shoulder and I zip it quickly, all the way to my neck, and I keep walking.

The town is every bit as charming as I remember. I stop at one particular vacant building and try to peek through a tear in the brown paper covering the plate glass windows.

I must keep moving. I pass the Main Street road sign and keep walking with my head down, not making eye contact with anyone. I feel like I’m coming home. I suppose in a way I am.

Most of the residential houses are on the other side of the island. I also know there are hundreds of vacant houses, one of which will be my new home. At least for a while. That’s the one flaw in my plan. I’m an honest person with her back against the wall. I can’t stay at the Inn because, even though I have the cash, I can’t register under my name or show my license. But I have a workaround that gives my conscience a bit of peace.

Once I’m outside of town, the road is literally deserted. After I’ve been walking for about thirty minutes, I hear a vehicle in the distance and jump into a clump of bushes until it passes. I drop my head and try to calm my beating heart. It was just an islander. There’s no way anyone could know where I am.

“Why are you wearing a coat?”

Startled, I jump again and take a fighter’s stance. When I see nothing more than a little girl with unruly blonde hair, a dirty gray t-shirt, and torn blue jean shorts, I lower my hands. Where the hell did she come from?

“You scared me? You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” I tell her with a stern voice. I pick up my backpack and toss it back over my shoulders.

She shrugs and looks up at me with the most curious blue eyes. “I didn’t sneak. You just weren’t paying attention. Where are you going? I saw you get off the ferry.”

I frown down at her; has she been following me the entire time? She’s a pushy little girl. “I’m going to see a friend.”

She volleys back with, “Why didn’t they pick you up?”

I roll my eyes and shoot back. “They must have forgotten. Do you live around here? Your mom is probably looking for you.”

The girl bends down and picks a blue wildflower growing nearby. “No, she isn’t 'cause I don’t got one.”

Darn it. Now I feel for her. I know exactly how it feels to be motherless. “I don’t have one either. I never knew her. I wish I had gotten a chance to know my mom,” I reply. I can’t believe I admitted that to a total stranger.

“Moms are really nice. My mom used to brush my hair at night and read me bedtime stories. We’d bake cookies and my dad would steal a few before they cooled. Can I walk with you?”

Without knowing the imp’s history, I’m not going to ask any more. She sure has pulled at my heart with her precious memories. I don’t have any memories of my mom.

“Sure, for a little ways, but it’s going to be dark soon and I know your father will be looking for you.”

She falls into step beside me and she keeps up a constant stream of nonsense chatter. I’ve never really been around kids before. Do they all act like this one?

“See that castle over there?”

I look to where she’s pointing and indeed it does look like a castle, but it’s more of a grand mansion with a tower room high above the roof. “Yeah. What is it? A hotel?”

She dramatically lowers her voice and says, “No. It’s a haunted castle. Don’t ever go there or ghosts will throw you in the dungeon and you’ll never be heard from again. The bones of past unfortunates litter the dirt floor. Bats fly around inside the castle. They dive into your hair and suck the blood from your body through your brain. It’s very painful.”

My steps falter and then stop. Did she say unfortunates? That seems like a very big word for such a little girl. I turn to her with my mouth ajar and ask, “This has happened to you?”

The girl screws her face up like I am the crazy one. “Of course not. I’d be dead if that happened to me! I’ve just seen it happen many times before and it looks painful.”

“I see.” I shake my head in disbelief and start walking again. This is the strangest little girl.

“Hey, what’s your name?” I ask, but hear nothing. I can’t believe she isn’t going to answer. She’s told me everything else. When I turn, my mouth drops again because she’s gone. I search the area for her and see nothing. Not even a disturbed blade of grass.

“Hey, where did you go?” I call out, but receive no reply. At all. Was she ever there? Did I make the whole thing up? Maybe she’s one of the ghosts she was talking about.

I take a bottle of water from my backpack and down half of it before deciding I have to keep walking. I mean… what exactly could I report? The sun is hot; maybe I was hallucinating.

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