Page 64 of After Life
“Most folks this end of the island work down at Tibbins Quay,” Cap said. “Or the mainland. They’re only here on weekends or holidays, or work shift hours. It’s not lively like it used to be but there’re more folks here than not.”
Oscar nodded, lacing his fingers tightly with mine. “It’s not what I expected.”
Cap snorted. “So I gather.”
“How do you know Enoch?” I asked as we pulled into the drive. “You mentioned him earlier...”
Cap and Oscar exchanged glances in the rearview mirror. “I’ll tell you after I get some tea in me,” Oscar said. “I need fortification for this.”
I laid my hand on his arm, drawing his attention. “Maybe water for now, until we’re sure whatever tea you’re drinking is safe?”
Oscar’s eyes widened briefly, then he nodded. “Water then. At least till the mainland.”
Chapter 15 — Oscar
Enoch was entirely too pleased with himself. Even over the wobbly video link, his beaming pride was near palpable. “And then I was able to tell Cap what was going on because he was the only one that was open. Kind of like using Omegle but for people with the Gift.”
Cap being the taciturn ferry pilot. The descendant of Jeremiah Tibbins. Jeremiah Tibbins V, or Captain Tibbins to his former military mates. Now just Cap, at least to an excited teenager from rural Texas who was slowly coming into his own with his abilities. Cap who was, in Julian’s words, pulling a Boo Radley and trying to somehow melt into the shadows behind the open bedroom door while avoiding all eye contact.
“Thank you,” I murmured, catching his eye. “If you hadn’t come, I’m not sure I’d have cared much for what would happen next.”
He made a funny little choked sound. “I, um. I don’t know about all that. Your friends there, they were pretty much on top of things.”
“You called Jeremiah to you. And you stopped Sandra,” I added. “She was close, Cap. Closer than I care to remember.”
Cap’s weathered cheeks turned ruddy as he found the carpet suddenly worthy of all his attention. “I’ve lived here most of my life, ‘cept when I was in the Army. I never thought...” He trailed off. “Well. I never thought.”
I nodded. “Everyone here knows about the Wreckers, and about your family.”
He nodded. “I grew up going to the shore, you know? I mean, not much else to do here. Wasn’t till I was in middle school an’ going to the mainland every week to stay with my Aunt Bitty so I could go to school that I found out other kids didn’t see stuff like that. Didn’t talk to their dead family.”
“Or the ghost on the path,” I murmured. “And the one in the garden. What happened then?”
He shrugged. “I shut it off. Stopped taking part. Drove Mom nuts, really. Said I was breaking tradition and hurting my great-grandma’s feelings. She’d been dead fifty years by that point so I figured it wasn’t much hurt involved.” He smiled awkwardly, twisting his fingers in the hem of his t-shirt. “When I heard ‘bout the goings-on starting up after Mom died, I was just getting out after my twenty years and...” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to move back here, not after a whole life of it, but I couldn’t just ignore it, you know?”
“So, you stepped in like Jeremiah did,” I said. “To keep an eye on what was happening and try to protect the people here.”
He nodded reluctantly. “For all the good it did,” he muttered with a tinge of bitterness in his tone. “That Cochrane woman still nearly—”
“But she didn’t,” I said with a small smile.
“Shit.” He sighed gustily. “I let that Cochrane woman nearly kill you. When she answered my ad looking for a caretaker, she said she was researching the history of the island for some university job. Hell, she even tried to turn down my money, said she just wanted to be able to do her work while living on site. I was so blind though. There were all sorts of things that should’ve warned me she wasn’t right, you know? I was just so glad someone else was taking care of the place and I didn’t need to set foot inside, and that nearly got y’all killed. Don’t argue with me,” he snapped when I started to do just that. “I should’ve put it together sooner. No one’s that interested in the old family pile. No one is that obsessed. She stirred up shit that should’ve stayed down. Hell.” He raked his fingers through his hair, turning the sandy brush of his hair into a bird’s nest. “I should sell out to those resort people, you know? Let ‘em turn this whole damn thing into a fucking golf course or something.”
I sat up straight, pierced by concern and—yes, I admit it—annoyance on behalf of Jeremiah, Ray-Don, hell, everyone on the island who had worked to keep the Wreckers at bay for so long. “Cap, that would be the worst possible idea. It seems easier, I’m sure, but if you give it over to them, then what will happen when they start destroying the homes, the buildings, all the places the people of Rosie Sands have been working that ritual for years?”
He shook his head harder. “I can’t keep up with this, Mr. Fellowes. My family started something that’s never going to end if I don’t yank it out by the roots.”
“That’s the problem,” I said. “The roots aren’t just deep, they’re tangled with other roots. The Wreckers, the first settlers, the settlers roots in the old colonies.... And, Cap, tearing away one part of it will only upset the ecology of the rest.”
His face was red with anger, with frustration, and maybe a bit of sadness. “So I have to stay here, get buried here like all the rest of ‘em? I don’t want to be the one at the end, Mr. Fellowes.” He wilted in on himself, closing his eyes. “I saw my family let this island suck them dry. I saw the entire town wither away to almost nothing, letting the goings-on eat away at them until all that’s left are just a handful of folks, trying to keep back monsters my ancestors stirred up!”
“They’re not monsters,” I murmured. “They’re just ghosts. Strange ones, maybe stronger because of... because of their history, but just ghosts.”
I couldn’t bring myself to say magic—magic brought to mind tricksters, hoaxes, bad telly programs with thirty-year-olds playing teenagers throwing fireballs and having complicated affairs.
“Uh, hey...”
Enoch’s voice startled us both. I looked down at the phone in my hand to see him looking back, eyes wide as he gnawed gently on his lower lip. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Got a bit carried away there.”
