Nightmare Magazine, Issue 103 (April 2021) by John Joseph Adams

Author:John Joseph Adams [John Joseph Adams]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: John Joseph Adams
Published: 2021-03-30T17:13:46+00:00

III

“While you guys are settling in, I’m going to take a stroll,” Jeff Caldwell informed the rest of the family. “Maybe do some sketching, appreciate this beach I couldn’t actually walk on last year.”

“Have you signed up for your traditional Day One surfing lesson?” Janet asked.

“Very funny,” he said, and, carrying nothing but his tablet, started walking.

The clouds were scattered, moving fast, the breeze balmy, and the sun spread like warm honey over his shoulders. Everything felt much nicer, more welcoming, than last February. The house they’d rented this year was somewhat smaller than the last, but as long as the weather stayed fine, they wouldn’t be indoors much anyway. The new place was more of a glorified shack than an actual house, but it was the only thing available by the time they made their reservations. Not exactly on the sand, but with a spectacular view of the mountains and one foamy white waterfall; grapefruit and avocados ripe on the trees in the yard. The decor was determinedly neutral and inoffensive. Carved koa wood fruitbowls and canoe paddles mounted on the walls. Guide books listing local dining spots. Some old Hawaiian kitsch, posters of breaking waves and prop planes flying over Diamond Head. An untuned ukulele. No dried flowers.

And no family photographs.

He’d always felt a little bad about his prank at the last house, and occasionally wondered if anyone would notice, or if the property management company might call him to complain. He had planned to rent the house again this year, which would have given him a chance to retrieve his work, but the place was not available for booking. Janet, after looking but failing to find it in the North Shore property listings, confessed her relief: “I wasn’t crazy about that place anyway. I mean, the location was spectacular but the house itself . . . kind of creepy.”

“Creepy? How?” Jeff fishing for details, hoping she’d mention the photos so that he could confess his prank and they’d share a laugh.

“I don’t know. The kids didn’t like it either. Just a little weird. Like something bad had happened there, or was about to.”

So they had rented this other place, the big shack, and it was fine. The kids were happy being at most an extra ninety seconds from the beach.

Fifteen minutes into his walk, Jeff looked up from the shell-strewn sand and saw the low reef where last year the waves had crashed and foamed so dramatically. The surf was placid today, the rocks exposed, inviting him to walk out across them—except that he didn’t want to risk getting the tablet wet. He’d have to come back with his fishing pole. In the meantime, he contented himself by taking a photograph with the tablet’s camera, thinking that it might make the beginnings of a painting.

When he reached the end-point of the curving bay, he stopped and looked back, puzzled. How had he missed the house? The shrubby broad-leafed naupaka grew in pale green thickets here, encouraged for privacy, which might explain how he’d walked right past it.

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