Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke and Other Misfortunes by Eric LaRocca

Author:Eric LaRocca [LaRocca, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags:  
Publisher: Titan

THREE

SIX MONTHS LATER

Sunlight shimmers across the surface, sparkling as if the seawater was filled with diamonds.

A small steamboat powers across the channel, a mere speck floating along the horizon.

Its engine sputters, waves parting as it hammers ahead toward a small collection of islands in the distance.

James, dressed in the brand-new summer clothing Olive purchased for him last week, paces back and forth along the boat’s narrow deck. He scratches his newly grown beard that Olive continues to complain about.

What does she care anyway? he thinks to himself. People can’t stay the same forever.

Across the water, he spots a sea otter basking in the morning sun. Snatching the camera dangling from around his neck, James aims it at the small creature and snaps a picture. He lifts his eyes and spots an albatross sailing along a gust of wind, the bird’s body washed in golden light.

As the steamboat glides into port, handlers leap from the bow and onto the dock to secure the rigging. One of the stewards releases the gangplank, the boat finally coming to a full stop.

James scales the platform, descending from the boat and landing on the dock where he’s greeted by an overweight man in a tweed jacket.

“Mr. Thornton—?” the man asks.

James tosses his backpack over his shoulders, extending his hand. “Yes. Mr. Patel—?”

They shake hands. James hesitates, surprised by the strength of Mr. Patel’s grip.

“Delighted to have you here,” Mr. Patel says. “Welcome to Temple Island. How was your ride out?”

“Fine. Fine,” James says, narrowly avoiding one of the stewards as they push past him with more rigging from the boat. “They picked me up in Portsmouth. No issues whatsoever.”

“Excellent. I knew you’d have no trouble. Like something to eat for breakfast? Our kitchen staff is still serving.”

“I think it’s best I see the grounds first and get acquainted with everything,” James says. “That way I can make it back to the mainland for the two-thirty pick-up.”

“Yes. Of course,” Mr. Patel says, leading him further up the dock and away from the stewards. “I forgot you’re on a tight schedule.”

He seems to notice James struggling to secure his backpack.

“Need help with your bags?”

James pulls the backpack tighter over his shoulders. “No. Thank you. I can manage.”

James hurries after Mr. Patel as they make their way up the narrow causeway toward the island’s main centerpiece— The Enchantment Hotel.

Framed against the lily-white skyline, The Enchantment Hotel rises into view as if it were the discarded remnants of a prehistoric beast.

James and Mr. Patel are mere insects crawling beside the island’s monstrosity—from the gables extending from the crimson pitched roof to the broadness of the covered porch wrapping around the entire building.

As they circle the hotel’s porch, workers scurry past them carrying large trunks toward the dock.

“We’re proud to say we are a totally self-sufficient ecosystem out here,” Mr. Patel explains. “All of the island’s electricity is powered by solar panels arranged near the harbor.”

James aims his camera at the empty rocking chairs lining the hotel’s front porch and snaps a picture.

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