Alabaster Island

Chapter 3

As we left the lighthouse, I kissed my fingers and touched the doorjamb three times for luck when Ethan wasn't looking. Scraps, our border collie, tried to follow. Years back, I used to have to tie her or she'd run out the fence gate ahead of me. Then I'd catch her and drag her back inside while she licked me non-stop. But she was getting old. That morning, she lumbered after me, but for the first time, stopped before she reached the gate. Half way, she sat, and watched me leave, her moist, pink tongue hanging from her mouth. 

"I knew it was gonna be an odd day," I told Ethan as we headed along the path together. Ethan was one of my two best friends on the island. More than a friend, he was like a brother. He even knew about my peculiar luck rituals though I still tried to keep them hidden. Part of me knew they were childish. Another part feared what catastrophe might occur if I stopped. 

 One thing was certain; it was another gorgeous, tropical day. If not for the fact that our crops were wilting from lack of water and supplies were late, it might have been perfect, at least as far as weather went. 

"The long way," Ethan said, not waiting for a reply. I smiled. It was not the easiest or quickest way to Assembly, but it was my way, my morning routine. We walked in what became an uncomfortable silence. Soon we'd pass smooth luck rock. My step quickened. 

"So what's up?" I asked, curious what was wrong.

"Chloe was worried yesterday that her and I might not be bound."

"Of course you'll be bound." 

"I dunno. What we want is only a small part. I heard there's a bunch of factors the Council considers. The way our energies match and other stuff." 

"I heard the same," I admitted. "And how fast we'll head over to Honey Moon Island to pump out babies. Don't tell Chloe I said that," I added. 

After our Binding, we'd be paired off and sent to a small island off-shore for two nights. While there, Mayor Marlow hoped we'd conceive children that would further the Lemurian lineage. 

Ethan laughed. "You should hear what Edward says about Honey Moon Island. I'm embarrassed to repeat it. Anyway, now Chloe's angry at me, and I'm—"

"We only have a couple of days and this is all over," I interrupted Ethan. I said it to comfort him, but the thought made me feel worse. After the third switchback, the trail evened out and our strides widened. Further along the ridge, smooth luck rock lay below. But something looked wrong. I forced my attention back to Ethan.

"Why was Chloe mad?"

"She asked me if I was gonna write down her name as my choice...but I didn't want to say partly because, it's you know, bad luck to talk about it." 

"You believe that?" I asked.

"Sure, why, you don't?"

"I believe it, too," I said. He didn't look surprised. 

"Well, she doesn't. Told me it's dumb."

"It's not dumb."

 "Well, now she thinks I might put in someone else's name and I just don't wanna admit it."

"But who else does she think—"

"Katrina."

I burst out laughing. "She's not that pretty." 

"Yeah, well I heard a rumor that no less than six of the other boys plan to write in her name."

My face got hot. There were ten other boys on the island. If that were true it was possible no one would select me. After weeks of deliberating I still hadn't decided. There was no boy I felt passionate about. 

"But the thing I wanted to—" he started, when my gasp interrupted him. Down below us, Maxie lay dead on smooth luck rock. White feathers speckled with blood. Bones broken and snapped. We scrambled down the rocks.

"Maxie," I gasped. "Something killed Maxie!"

"What the—" Ethan whistled through his teeth. 

Every morning I took this path to school and fed an adorable old seagull I'd named Maxie. Full of personality, although rather bedraggled, she was almost tame. And she recognized me. It might be odd to admit it, but I'd grown to love that bird much as I loved my dog Scraps. 

Normally, I'd stop at smooth luck rock and touch the giant stone to bring luck for the rest of the day. It had a concave surface as if it had been made to sit and gaze out to sea.

Several other rocks had these odd, smooth depressions, but none were as big or as beloved as my smooth luck rock. It was as if a giant had taken her thumb and pressed it into a seat just for me. After I fed Maxie, she'd preen herself and watch from a nearby perch. 

Ethan picked up a bone.

"Don't touch her!" I said, distraught.

"Her?" he asked.

"Maxie. I fed her every morning. This is horrible."

"Wonder what kinda animal would do this?" Ethan asked. "Scraps?"

I guessed that was his attempt to inject dark humor into the circumstance. "That's not funny," I said. 

He spun the bone in his fingers.

"Please, stop." My instinct was to leave her in peace though I didn't see how that was possible.

"Sorry," Ethan apologized and put the bone back.

There was no way my old dog Scraps had done this. We had cats on the island, but I'd never seen a house cat catch a seagull. The birds were big and aggressive. Maybe a large bird of prey? I glanced up at the sky. Clear and blue. I looked to the ocean. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I saw a fin disappear beneath the water's surface like a green-grey blade. A chill fell over me.

Ethan looked at the sun's angle. "We're late." 

Part of me wanted to run and leave as fast as possible. But another part felt like it would make the day worse to not touch smooth luck rock. To not sit and mourn Maxie for at least a moment. 

"Hey," Ethan took my hand. "You okay?"

I shook my head. "No."

"C'mon, I'll help later, 'kay?" he said with a gentle tone. 

"I know I'm being ridiculous, gulls die all the time, right? She was old...but, she was tough. It never even occurred to me that she might die."

We jogged along the ridge, single file.

"You're not being ridiculous. I know you have your rituals and things you do. Don't be embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed! And it wasn't a ritual," I lied as I counted my footsteps until we reached the bottom of the hill. Eight hundred and twenty-two. Unlucky. 

But all of us kids had grown up on this island together. Truth was, it wasn't easy to keep secrets, not for long. Secrets were best kept locked in one's own head. We ran past the dock where Cunningham wound fishing line. He waved.

"Better run fast!" He shouted at us as if we didn't know. Every teen needed to be in Assembly by 8:30am. We ran to the back of our settlement near the old runway. The Assembly House bordered the abandoned landing strip. Another military left-over that had been here since well before our time. Now in 1983, after decades, the sun and winds had done significant damage. The building was ugly. It had no windows, so the teacher left the wide, swinging doors open to allow air circulation. Our desks were a series of mismatched wooden tables and chairs. 

"You are late." Mrs. Caroline said, interrupting herself mid-sentence. 

"Sorry," I apologized. "It was my fault." My best friend, Chloe, looked over and shot me an odd look. I smiled and mouthed that I'd explain later. She glared at me and turned away. The day kept getting stranger and worse.

***

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