Fog of Shadows

Part 26

Back in the fog, Flinn noticed how Lillian clung to his arm. He tried to keep a little distance from her, but the more he tried the closer she tried to get to him, he gave up and assumed that she was cold. They had made it back to the beach, where he hoped to spot the person once again; he secretly hoped that person was Janet. The figure had appeared small enough to give credence to that idea. Flinn strained his eyes against the fog, but never managed to see further than a few feet and every step was wobbly and uncertain, caused from the rock that moved and shifted with every set. He secretly began to envy Lillian's feathery steps; it was as if she floated upon the rocks. In the distance, Flinn began to notice a figure and his hopes rose that it might be Janet and that their efforts might not have been for nothing, but the closer they came, the clearer it became that the figure was Richard. Internally, Flinn felt crushed. The closer they came to Richard, the clearer Flinn could see that he stood hunched over as if in pain or mourning.

"Richard, is everything alright?" Flinn called out to the old man, who slightly jumped at the sound of another person's voice and quickly spun around.

"Ah, Flinn, Nah m'boy; Just overwhelmed by memories." Replied the old man, rubbing a few thick tears from his eyes.

"Must have been some memory to upset you so much." Commented Lillian, pretending to be concerned over the old man's well-being. She was a little jealous that this old man, who had lived the best years of his life, had taken Flinn's attention away from her. "I have never seen you so shaken."

"It's nothin', Miss..." Richard cleared his throat, "it's just that the sight of your friend brought back memories of one I lost."

"I am sorry Sir." Said Flinn, thinking that Richard had meant Alisea. Flinn thought that Richard must have had a love similar to her. He could feel his heart sink at the thought of ever losing her.

"I think Alisea should apologize for giving you such distress." Said Lillian, without a second thought. After all, if she had given someone such heartache, her grandmother would have forced her to apologize as well. She wondered why Flinn's arm stiffened under her grip.

"Oh no, it wasn't that young Miss, it was her friend with the fiery hair." Richard, again, cleared his throat and returned the pipe to his mouth. "I had a lover with hair like her's. The sight of it reminded me. But she is long gone. Died of an illness of the heart said her parents. Also long gone."

"I bet her death must have been a tremendous loss." Said Flinn absent-mindedly and then mentally kicked himself for rubbing salt in a recently reopened wound.

"Aye, it was. She used to sing and dance in the town's square. 'Was close to wedding her too." The old man's eyes filled with tears of remembrance. A thin smile crossed his lips as he remembered his long lost love's voice; he remembered how it sounded like birds singing. For a moment, he could hear it even now as an old man.

"Well no wonder she got ill, no one sings and dances in this fog. Anyone who does practically begs to end their life soon." Again, Lillian spoke without giving much thought to the feeling she injured. She, in addition, did not understand why Flinn suddenly pulled his arm free of her grasp. She pretended it did not bother her. Richard, however, did not seem to have his feelings injured by her harsh words.

"She wasn't like others on this blasted island. She lived life to the fullest and dared the fog to catch her. 'Remember her climbing the highest tree I have ever known, just to save a baby bird." Richard's mood then began to change for the worse. "I had been a coward in the last weeks of her life. I had saved money to get wedding rings, but when she became ill, I never visited her and gave her the ring. Even at her funeral, I never managed to give her that ring." He once again felt his eyes swell with tears and he ended his story there. "But again, this was all a long time ago and it is better I keep the dead at rest." The Oldman, again, adjusted his hat and pipe, nodded a hardy goodbye to the two young adults, and moved on along the stony shore before disappearing in the fog.

Without a word to Lillian, Flinn started moving back along the shore in the direction he had come from. Lillian, slightly angered by both Richard's saddening tale and Flinn's sudden harshness, rushed after him. She called his name, but he continued to make his way back to the inn without giving her a second glance.

XXXXX

At the town's records, a stuffy, library-like, building with narrow windows and dark interior. Everything on the inside was dark, old, and the smell of musty dust clung to it and anyone who visited. With their clothes sticking to their bodies like glue and their fingers caked in dust from the records, Myri and Shill sat at a great, dark wooden, table bent over piles and piles of records. The record keeper, an old man with a long gray beard, had only glanced at them once when they had shown up and had not made an effort to help them or see if they needed anything. Their eyes, heads, and shoulders were sore as if they had studied for an important exam. Still, they felt safer in this stuffy record house, then out in the fog, where anything and anyone could sneak up on one. Though they had spent hours hunched over the records, like yesterday, they came up empty-handed. Since their captains were certain that Janet was alive and still on the island. Sadly, the records did not support their claims. After the note of her death, two years ago, she was never mentioned again. There was not even a mention of where her funeral plot lay.

If she was alive, then there should have been a record of where she resided or if she had changed her name, a record of a new resident surfacing in her place, but there was none of this. It was as if Janet had been swallowed by the fog. "I have had enough, if Flinn and Alisea have not found anything by the time we get back to the Inn, I am leaving in the morning." Grumbled Myri, she had had enough of the island, its' fog, its unhelpful citizens, the Inn, the unwelcoming Innkeeper, the uncomfortable beds, and Lillian.

"I hate to agree with you." Murmured Shill under his breath. He too had grown tired of the island and he wondered how his sister was doing, this was the longest he had ever left her side. It felt wrong to be gone from her for so long. With a heavy sigh, Myri slammed the records shut that sat in front of her and got up. "Enough, for all I care, Janet is dead."

"Don't say that Myri." Shill secretly agreed with her but felt it wrong to write such a young soul off as dead.

"Why not? We were never asked by the principle to come here and rescue his niece. If we are unsuccessful, maybe the next rescue party will have more luck, but I have had enough. I am going back to the Inn, eat dinner, and then I will go to bed." This she did, with Shill hurrying behind her. They left to quickly from the record house that the records were left on the table, where they would remain for several days before the record keeper thought it necessary to put them away.