The Waiting: A Supernatural Thriller(8)
Immediately Shaun pointed toward the lake. “Dere?”
“Yep, we’re going out there,” Evan said, walking toward the screen door of the building.
A gust of wind came off the lake and ruffled their hair with the cool touch of spring. Spring breezes always smelled and felt different than autumn winds. There was hope in the air during spring, and only a promise of frost with fall.
“Mornin’ ta ya!”
The voice brought Evan out of his musing, and he stopped a few yards before the door as a man pushed through it. His clean-shaven face beamed, and a pair of coal-black eyebrows stood out beneath a shock of white hair. He held out his hand as he approached.
“Jacob Collins,” he said, shaking Evan’s hand with a callused grip. “You must be Evan.” Jacob’s voice had a Celtic lilt that sounded a little like song when he spoke. “And this must be Shaun.”
He flattened his hand so that Shaun could slap it with his own. After two tries that missed their mark, Evan guided Shaun’s hand onto Jacob’s.
“What a nice smile you’ve got, boyo!” Jacob said, as Shaun grinned. “Jason told me ta look fer ya this mornin’,” he said to Evan.
“Yes, sorry if we’re early,” Evan said. He shifted Shaun into a more comfortable spot against his hip.
“Been up since the crack a dawn, you won’t see me sleepin’ late, specially this time a year. The opener was last weekend, ya know.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. My dad and I used to go out every year. Funny how you forget if you don’t keep the tradition.”
“Aye. Jason’s father, God rest his soul, and I used ta go out each spring together. I’ve known Jason since he was wee-high. He tells me ya grew up side by side?”
Evan smiled. “Yes we did, and that’s a good way to put it, we didn’t spend too much time apart.”
“Jason’s a good lad, and we’re glad ta have ya both up in the north again.”
“Thanks, we’re excited to get settled in, and thank you for agreeing to bring us to the island.”
Jacob waved his words away. “Ain’t nothin’. Now, I’m guessin’ ya got some gear. I’ll have ya back down ta the dock.”
Evan returned to the van and, after placing Shaun in his car seat, reversed the vehicle down to the pier, backing up until Jacob gave him the signal to stop. The rear end of the van was packed full of their belongings, and Evan felt a sense of pride at having managed to fit everything that they needed.
As he and Jacob hauled various suitcases and bags onto the pontoon, Evan surveyed the lake. It was wider than he’d first estimated, at least half a mile across in some places, and when he looked to the left, he couldn’t see its opposite end. Several fishing boats swayed in the swells, their occupants only dots that shifted from time to time, betraying the illusion that they were parts of the crafts.
“Somethin’, ain’t it?” Jacob asked.
Evan glanced at him before setting his laptop bag onto the heaping pile within the pontoon. “It sure is. I forgot how beautiful it is up here.”
“It’s a sight, that’s fer sure.” Jacob pointed northeast, across the water, his finger guiding Evan’s eyes to a dark mass he’d mistaken for a large boat. “That’s yer island there. The Fin, it’s called round here.”
“The Fin?”
“Looks like a shark’s dorsal when you get closer.”
Evan stared at the black speck, trying to discern any features. “How far out is it?”
“Eh, maybe a kilometer from the dock. Takes ten minutes on a calm day, take us fifteen today.” Jacob moved to the back of the minivan and took Shaun’s walker out, then shut the hatch.
Evan watched a boat pass by before returning his attention to the island. It was so far from shore. He hadn’t anticipated it being that far away. What if Shaun had another seizure? What if he got hurt and couldn’t call for help?
He caught himself before the questions pushed him into a full-blown anxiety attack.
“You can park yer van in me lot. I live right here, so I’ll be able ta keep an eye on it,” Jacob said, setting the walker in the pontoon.
“Thank you,” Evan said, but his voice sounded distant, as if the wind had blown it away.
~
The pontoon bounced up and down as they crossed the lake, and several sprays of water speckled them with cold drops, eliciting cries of glee from Shaun each time. Jacob piloted the pontoon without effort, animatedly talking with them about the history of the lake and his own story of how he came to live there.
“Me mum and dad moved here when I was twelve. Bought the land that the shop sits on and started a guidin’ service. Dad would take people out, help ’em catch some fish, and Mum would knit sweaters, sell ’em in the shop.”
“Pretty industrious,” Evan said, readjusting Shaun on his lap.
“Aye, they were workers, and once we got here, I never wanted ta leave. Took over the family business thirty years back when Dad passed.”
The growing mass of trees and rock jutted from the water ahead of the pontoon. Like the lake, the island had appeared smaller at first. The closer they got, the more the land lengthened and took on character. Its shape mimicked the lake around it, but its crescent curved the opposite way, creating the impression of a massive boomerang. Tall pines along the rocky shoreline swayed, while reed grass, not yet above a person’s knee, curled and bent along the banks.