The House in the Cerulean Sea(52)
The tires screeched as she peeled off. People on the sidewalk stared at him as rubber smoke billowed. He coughed, waving his hand in front of his face. “How do you do?” he asked a couple walking arm in arm. They lifted their noses at him and hurried across the street.
He looked down at himself. He wore slacks and a dress shirt and a tie, his usual attire. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Ms. Chapelwhite—Zoe—had in mind. No matter. He would tell her as much when he met her later.
* * *
Much like the rest of the village, the interior of the post office was bright and sunny. It was painted in light pastels, lines of oversize shells along the walls. There was a bulletin board with a familiar flyer: SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING. REGISTRATION HELPS EVERYONE!
A man stood behind the counter, watching him warily. His eyes were small, and he had thick, gnarled hair sticking out of his ears. His skin was weathered and tan. “Help you?”
“I believe so,” Linus said, stepping up to the counter. “I need to mail this off to the Department in Charge of Magical Youth.” He handed over the envelope that held his first weekly report. It was extensive, probably more so than was necessary, but he hadn’t made many revisions to its twenty-seven handwritten pages.
“DICOMY, is it?” the man asked, staring down at the envelope with barely disguised interest that made Linus nervous. “Heard a representative was here. About damn time too, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t,” Linus said stiffly.
The man ignored him. He set the envelope on a scale before looking back at Linus. “I hope you’re going to do the right thing.”
Linus frowned. “And what would that be?”
“Close that place down. It’s a menace.”
“How so?” He was proud how even his voice was.
The man leaned forward as he dropped his voice. His breath smelled cloyingly of elderberry mints. “There’s rumors, you know.”
Linus struggled not to recoil. “No, I don’t. What rumors?”
“Dark things,” the man said. “Evil things. Those ain’t children. They’re monsters who do monstrous things. People go to that island and never return.”
“What people?”
The man shrugged. “You know. People. They go on out there and are never heard from again. That Parnassus too. A queer fellow, if there ever was one. Lord knows what he’s got them doing out there all by themselves.” He paused. Then, “I’ve even seen some of them.”
“The children?”
He snorted. “Yeah, if you can call them that.”
Linus cocked his head. “Sounds like you watched them closely.”
“Oh yeah,” the man said. “They don’t come here anymore, but when they did, you can bet I kept my eye on them.”
“Interesting,” Linus said. “I’m sure I can amend my report to let DICOMY know that a man of your age took an unhealthy interest in orphaned children. Would that do? Especially if they already pay you to keep quiet, which doesn’t seem something you’re capable of.”
The man took a step back, eyes widening. “That’s not what I—”
“I’m not here for your opinion, sir. I’m here to mail out that envelope. That’s all that’s required of you.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Three twenty-five.”
“I’ll need a receipt,” Linus said as he paid. “To be reimbursed. Money doesn’t grow on trees, after all.”
The man slammed the receipt on the counter. Linus signed it, took his copy, and had turned to leave when, “You’re Linus Baker?”
He glanced back. “Yes.”
“Have a message for you.”
“If it’s anything like the message you just relayed, I don’t need it.”
The man shook his head. “Foolish. It ain’t from me, though you would do well to listen so you aren’t the next to disappear. It’s all official. From DICOMY.”
He wasn’t expecting anything, at least so soon. He waited as the man dug around through a crate next to him before finding a small envelope and handing it over. It was from DICOMY, just as the man had said. Official seal and all.
He was about to tear into it when he felt the man’s eyes on him again.
A thought struck him. “Say, you wouldn’t know anything about raft building, would you?”
The man looked confused. “Raft building, Mr. Baker?”
Linus smiled tightly. “Forget I asked.” He turned and left the post office.
Once out on the street, he opened the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper.
He unfolded it.
It read:
DEPARTMENT IN CHARGE OF MAGICAL YOUTH MEMO FROM EXTREMELY UPPER MANGEMENT
* * *
Mr. Baker:
We are looking forward to your reports. As a reminder, we expect you to leave nothing out.
Nothing.
Sincerely,
CHARLES WERNER
EXTREMELY UPPER MANAGEMENT
Linus stared down at it for a long time.
* * *
He found Zoe in the grocer’s, right where she’d said she’d be. She had a full cart in front of her, and appeared to be arguing with the butcher over a large piece of meat. “All right?” he asked, coming to stand beside her.