The Waiting: A Supernatural Thriller(62)

You’re going crazy.

That’s what’d been happening since they arrived. All the unsettling occurances, they were all in his mind.

He looked at Shaun, who was enraptured by the approaching land as he always was. What would happen to Shaun if he lost it completely? He would have nowhere to go. Evan’s parents lived in southern Florida and didn’t have the capabilities to care for Shaun, and he had no other close relatives, since Elle’s parents were deceased. There was only Jason and Lisa, and although Jason meant well, he wondered if his best friend could care for Shaun in the way he deserved.

Stop it, he chided himself. Just stop. He wouldn’t lose Shaun, and he wasn’t going crazy. It had been a dream, a horrible and realistic dream, but a dream nonetheless. There were no other explanations.

Ghosts.

The word floated through his mind, wrapped in absurdity as well as a niggling fear.

“Ghosts,” he said, tasting the word while feeling foolish at the same time.

So you don’t believe in ghosts, but you believe in time travel?

“How about a dream, Shaun?” he said, drowning out the voice’s annoying musings. “How about that’s what it was. No more fried food for Dad before bed.”

Shaun looked at him and smiled. The simplicity of joking out loud did wonders for him, and he breathed in the fresh air, feeling better. Or maybe it was putting distance between them and the island.

Evan focused on the approaching dock and shut all other thoughts off.

“Too much thinking never does anyone any good,” he said, in a bravado he didn’t feel.

Shaun didn’t respond, and Evan wondered if he would agree if he could.

~

After dropping Shaun off at the hospital for therapy, Evan drove through town, not entirely sure where he was going. He found himself back at Collins Outfitters, and sat looking at the side of the building for over a minute before he climbed out and headed for the door. Arnold and Wendal were at their customary posts, and Evan realized their seats had been empty when he and Shaun came through earlier.

“Morning,” Evan said.

Arnold nodded. “Morning to you, young fella.”

“Going to be hot today, you think?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s hot every day now that the snow’s gone.”

Evan laughed, struck by how normal the conversation seemed, in contrast with what had happened the night before.

The dream.

“You get ahold of old Cecil out there?” Arnold asked.

A little twinkle in his eye told Evan he already thought he knew the answer.

“Actually, I did,” Evan said, satisfied at the startled look both the twins gave him.

“You’re kidding?” Arnold said.

“Nope. She even let me come inside.”

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. That’s the first I’ve heard of her talking to someone besides the grocer or repairman.” Arnold eyed him up and down. “You must’ve had a silver tongue to charm that old biddy.”

“Something like that. Is Jacob in, by chance?”

“Oh yeah, the old mick’s in there somewhere.”

“Thanks.”

Evan moved past the twins, through the door of the building. He wanted to stop and go back, to tell them both off for not having said anything about Jason’s grandparents, for they surely knew about what had happened. Well, he couldn’t fault Wendal for not saying anything. The dark humor made him smile a little.

“What’s so funny, boyo?” Jacob said, standing behind a counter.

“Nothing. How’s it going today?” Evan reached out and shook the older man’s hand.

“Goin’ well, goin’ well. Didn’t see ya come in with yer boy this mornin’.”

“Yeah, he’s at his therapy now.” Evan watched Jacob nod and then begin to unpack a box of spinner lures. “Jacob, I know I owe you a beer.”


“Three, I think,” Jacob said, giving him a smile.

Evan didn’t return it. “But could we go get some coffee in lieu of those? I need to speak with you about something.”

Jacob looked at him for a moment, and then nodded. “Okay, boyo, what’s this about?”

“Jason’s grandparents.” He watched Jacob’s face fall a little. “I know about everything.”

Jacob sighed, looking down at the glass top of his counter. A boy no older than seventeen, holding a stack of fishing vests, came out of the back room behind Jacob and paused, his eyes going from his boss to Evan.

“Nate, why don’t ya watch the store fer a while,” Jacob said.

“Sure thing, Mr. Collins.”

“Come with me, Evan,” Jacob said, heading through the doorway behind the counter.

Evan followed him, smiling politely at Nate as he went by. The room behind the counter held several tall shelves stocked with boxes of fishing gear of all sorts. Jacob led the way through the stacks to a gray steel door with a cartoon taped to it. Jacob opened it and beckoned Evan inside.

“Me office,” Jacob said, closing the door behind them. “Ignore the mess, will ya?”

The office was spacious, with two wide windows overlooking the lake. Dark paneling lined the walls, and several massive fish were mounted here and there, their taxidermied eyes glaring in glassy stares. Jacob’s desk had piles of papers and photos littering both ends, with a clear path down to the wood in the middle. The air smelled of sweet tobacco. Evan sat in a threadbare chair in front of the desk, while Jacob rummaged below it on the other side.