Samhain Island (Episode One) Read online

  She took a large cardboard box by his desk, thin in width, and brought it to the second floor. When she opened it, she realized it was a new standee from one of the movie houses Enzie Studios owned. She followed the instructions and started to build the promotional stand.

  “What are you doing?” Josey asked as she was recovering movie cases.

  “I’m making a cocktail,” Tremaine said.

  “Don’t get smart,” Josey approached her daughter sitting on the floor. She noticed the grotesque character on the cardboard, “Ew, why are you setting up a creepy clown thing?”

  “I thought it was appropriate for this town,” Tremaine said, “Besides, this store could use a little character.”

  “The store could use a makeover,” muttered Josey.

  “I knew you were just pretending,” Tremaine started to plug the cardboard into the stand.

  “I’m pretending to like a lot of things here,” Josey said, “But your father is going to make a lot of money here as the only video store on this island, so when it comes to this business I just grin and bear it,” Josey turned toward the doors, “Oh, also he wants you to stock the comedy section.”

  “Fine,” Tremaine said. She placed the standee on the second floor away from public view, just in case it would be too much for the non-horror buying customers. She started to stock the comedy movies in their desired section as the store started to get some customers. She felt so useless when some of them came up and asked her where to find movies.

  “Well, if you work here, shouldn’t you know where everything is?” One older man dressed in a Hawaiian shirt asked.

  “This is … I don’t know the store yet,” she excused.

  “Obviously,” the man muttered, and walked away.

  “At least I’m not wearing a Hawaiian shirt during the middle of January,” she said to herself once the man was out of earshot.

  A girl about her age witnessed the exchange and came over. She was white and pale, like most of the islanders, with platinum blonde hair that was cut short to her shoulders and flattened. She walked over to Tremaine, “Don’t worry about him. Mr. Quinn always gives people a hard time, especially younger people.”

  Tremaine looked over at the girl. Everything about her screams WASP, Tremaine thought. She was wearing a white pea coat with dark skinny jeans and a pink blouse. Tremaine shooed away her bias, mentally scolding herself. You need to be nice now.

  “You must be one of these urban legends this island talks about,” Tremaine smirked. “You’re the first person I’ve seen that’s my age.”

  “Many of the residents of Samhain Island are elderly,” Hannah clarified, “That’s why funeral homes are a lucrative business.”

  “Oh, jeez,” Tremaine laughed.

  “I’m Hannah, by the way,” the girl said, “I’m in the eighth grade. What about you?”

  “Tremaine Boppel,” she said, “Same.”

  “Oh my gosh, no way!” The girl chirped. Tremaine knew the type. The overly perky cheerleaders were not her people. She preferred her company to be rough around the edges, not flawless diamonds. “I heard from your dad downstairs that you guys resided in a city before you decided to settle here. The island isn’t that bad. I’ve lived here my entire life and I’m sick of it, sure, but I’ll probably live here until I die.”

  “That’s… comforting,” Tremaine said.

  “I’ll find you in school on Monday,” Hannah slowly walked away, her blonde hair bouncing as she did, “Ta!”

  “See ya.”

  Josey approached Tremaine as she was decorating the store on Sunday afternoon. She was putting some of the promotional items for sale on the shelves, trying to make the store feel a little more like home. Josey tapped her daughter on the shoulder, “I’ve got lunch.”

  Tremaine followed Josey to the back rooms of the video store. Her father had set up a folding table with some mismatched chairs. Her mother wore oven mittens as she took out small plates from the microwave. There was a casserole in a baking dish on the counter, next to the microwave. She placed the plates in front of Danny and Tremaine, “Okay, here it is!”

  “When did you have time to cook this?” Danny asked as he opened a can of soda.

  “I didn’t,” Josey placed her plate in the microwave. “I found it outside with this note,” she pointed to a sheet of loose-leaf paper on the table.

  “Should have figured,” Danny said. Josey smacked him on the back of his head, causing some of his soda to spill on his white polo shirt. As her parents harmlessly argued, Tremaine took the note and read it to herself. “Welcome to Samhain Island. I apologize that I cannot come down and greet you in person, but I have a night job that keeps me pretty busy and I sleep during the day. I made this casserole this morning as a welcoming gift. Sincerely, your tenant, Skyler Hornbostel.”

  “Do you think it’s safe to be eating this food?” Tremaine asked as she looked down at the casserole. “I mean, we don’t know the guy, this… Skyler Hornbostel. He could be a mass murderer for all we know.”

  “Don’t be rude, Trey,” Danny said, “If he went to the trouble of making us lunch then he must be a nice guy.”

  “That’s what he wants you to think,” Tremaine held up a finger. “When men go out of their way to prove they're nice guys, they’re actually dicks.”

  “Language, Tremaine!” Josey snapped.

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m going to take the casserole dish back when I think he’s awake, around eight or so,” Josey said. “Care to join me, Tremaine?”

  “Ma,” Tremaine started, “It is literally walking from our porch to his porch a yard away. Why do you need a walking buddy?”

  “Fine! I’ll do it myself,” Josey stated. She took out her own plate and joined her family at the table.

  In her apartment, Josey vigorously scrubbed at the pink casserole dish. With it cleaned and polished like a family heirloom, she fixed her thick, dark hair and pushed up her bra. She wanted to make a good first impression with her neighbor.

  The two apartments shared a porch. The Boppel’s apartment had only one floor, along with the private loft in which Tremaine occupied. The other apartment was three stories tall, not including the commercial building below.

  She carried the dish to the door, which was on the opposite side of the tower, and knocked on it. There were no windows on the first or second story of the tower, but there was one on the third floor. There was a deck as well with a railing that looked like it was ready to fall apart. There was no light, and the black curtains were hiding a view of the inside.

  “Uh,” Josey thought of something to say. She cupped one hand by her mouth and shouted up to the third floor, “I have your glassware! Do you want to come down and get it?”

  No answer.

  “O-Okay,” Josey placed it by the door. She started to back away from the door, still shouting, “I’ll just leave it here!”

  She walked over the gate again. On her porch, she looked up at the tower. She thought she saw the curtains shuffling as she turned her head away. She snapped her head back to the tower, but the curtains were still.

  Tremaine was hoping she could just sit through class without being noticed on her first day, but she found it impossible as the eyes of the middle age teacher fell upon her.

  “Oh! A new student in grade eight!” Mrs. Lopez said as she scanned her list of names on the clipboard. She thought the room of twenty-eight students was a single class, not the whole grade.

  Tremaine leaned over to Hannah, “How many people are in the eighth grade here?”

  Hannah shrugged, “About thirty.”

  “Tremaine Boppel,” Mrs. Lopez read out loud. Some of the class giggled, and Mrs. Lopez gave the ones that did a stern look over her glasses. “Beautiful name, dear.”

  Tremaine felt herself heating up from the attention. Thank God she was tanned so no one could see her blushing. “We welcome you to our school. Won’t you stand up and say something about yourself.”r />
  Tremaine remained seated, and shook her head, “I think I’m good.”

  Mrs. Lopez furrowed her eyebrows, and then returned to the chalkboard. Hannah was quietly giggling, and Tremaine gave a small smirk. She didn’t know why teachers always wanted to let new students indulge their personality to a large group of strangers, but they always asked for just that. Tremaine leaned back in her seat and took notes for the duration of the class.

  All of the students had all of the same classes and times. As they walked to and from classes during the day, Hannah explained the concept of the schedule, and how English and History, the first two classes, were with Mrs. Lopez, and then it was off to other classrooms for different subjects.

  There was an hour included at the end of the school day for clubs and sports. Hannah said, “I’m in the Urban Legend Exploration Club. We do everything from researching local legends and exploring abandoned buildings. It’s pretty cool.”

  “They really let you do that?” Tremaine asked, “Like, go off campus and stuff?”

  “Oh, no, but we do that after school sometimes,” Hannah corrected, “But we talk about them and make plans. Sometimes we explore the old, abandoned retreat buildings behind the school. What did you want to join?”

  “I’m guessing this school doesn’t have boxing?”

  “Wrestling, and it’s all high school boys,” Hannah said.

  Tremaine made a face of disgust, “Well, I guess I’ll join your… urban legend thing then.”

  “Oh, lovely!” Hannah clapped her hands together once. She spun around to be in front of Tremaine, “You’re going to love it.”

  “I hope so,” Tremaine said, and then decided to smile. She knew her hardened attitude wouldn’t get her far in a small town like this. Hannah introduced her to too many people. She remembered an Amanda and two girls named Jennifer. She recalled a boy named Jason, but only because she made the connection to Friday the Thirteenth.

  By the time they arrived at the club, Tremaine was socially overwhelmed. She was glad to find that all of the people in the club were people she had met during the day. The room was in the storage under the stage, only accessible to from the auditorium and the emergency exit doors. It took up a spare room off of the stage construction room. Most students sat on big props and couches, and the rest crowded the floor.

  A map of the island hung over the wall behind the teacher’s desk. She snapped a picture of the map and sent it to Vito with the caption; “This is what I’m stuck on until I turn eighteen.” She put her phone away before the teacher noticed.

  The only adult was a Latina woman around thirty with glasses hanging around her neck. She had her thin, brown hair pulled back, and wore a white blouse and a long black skirt.

  “Miss Vargas, we have a new member,” Hannah said as she brought Tremaine forward, “This is Tremaine Boppel.”

  She expected her to greet her with the same tired introductory that all of the other teachers did. Instead, she chuckled and said, “Tremaine Boppel?”

  “The name stuck with my mom for some reason,” she explained. “Boppel is from my dad’s side. I’m mostly Italian, actually.”

  “I’m mostly Bolivian,” she mentioned. “I hope you can aid us the most around here. Most of the kids who can’t drive hang around and are serious about the club. The older high school students just go in the closet out in the hallways and… well, who knows what goes on in there.”

  “They smoke pot,” Hannah said.

  “Thank you, Miss St. Charles,” Miss Vargas gave a playful eye roll. “I know you’re new to the school, which means you’re new to the island, so I doubt you’d know any of the urban legends around here.”

  Miss Vargas opened her desk drawer and pulled out a piece of paper. All that was on it was a web address. “That’s a website we use frequently. Hannah's brother actually manages it. If you’re interested in my teachings, go there. If not… well, you can join the majority of the club and just lounge around.”

  “What exactly are we learning about?” Tremaine stuffed the paper into the pocket of her book bag, “I mean, like what do we do? Stand in the bathroom and say ‘Bloody Mary’ until she comes out?” Tremaine closed her eyes in frustration. Damn it, that sounded rude as hell.

  “To learn about what can’t be explained,” she said, “To prove that urban legends are more than just legends. They’re truth. That website there is a collection of observations and various legends. Not just from the island, but from all over the world. Check out Santa Muerte. She’s my favorite.”

  Hannah looked at Tremaine unsurely. She smiled back, “I’ll check the website out, at least.”

  “Awesome,” Hannah said.

  Miss Vargas started to gather the class together. The disinterested ones hung back. The teacher stood, and Tremaine observed how tall and thin she was. Without heals, she stood taller than most men. She’s probably taller than Dad. Jeez.

  Vargas opened the walkout basement door and propped it open with a brick. “We’re going to walk down the path out there and to the old retreat center. Whoever is interested, you may come.” Miss Vargas pointed a finger at the kids in the back of the room, “You guys over there. Do not remove this brick from the door,” she gestured down to it, “I can’t open the door from the outside if it closes. Understand?”

  They shrugged but nodded. She slipped on her coat and gloves as the students did the same. The side of

  school faced a forest, and all of the emergency exit doors for the junior high section of the school were along the same side. Miss Vargas led the way through the path, warning the students to watch out for any ice. Tremaine and Hannah hung up front with Vargas. The group stopped when they arrived at a building.

  It was slanted slightly with vines growing up its sides. The wood that was once the walls were diminished, and only loose panels remained. The floor, however, was concrete, and although it was cracked in many places, it was still sturdy overall.

  “This here used to be an old retreat center,” Miss Vargas explained. “Go inside, and look at the back wall.” The students walked inside. There was just enough light peaking through the wood to observe the interior. The back wall, unlike the rest of the building, was concrete with a dirty fireplace built in. There was what looked like graffiti on the wall. Tremaine was drawn toward the one art piece with the snake. It was shaped as a circle, eating its tail.

  “When the building was stripped of the wallpaper back twenty years ago, these paintings were found.” Miss Vargas touched the painting of a black skull with a certain curiosity; “They’re all symbols for something. This one… this represents the creature that lurks around Samhain Island and guides souls from their bodies.”

  “Oh, this is too freaky,” one girl commented. “Why can’t we just go down to the creek like last semester?”

  “Because it’s frozen. If you feel disturbed, you can head back to the school,” Miss Vargas said. The students were hesitant in getting closer to the paintings. Vargas walked over to Tremaine, who was still staring at the snake.

  “What do you think this one stands for?” Miss Vargas asked her.

  “Desperation? Starvation?” Tremaine shrugged, “Ya know… since the snake is eating itself.”

  “Immortality, actually,” Vargas said, “You see, the snake is continuous, like a wheel. Never-ending.”

  Miss Vargas explained the other few pictures and their history behind them. With the skull, she talked about local sightings of the Grim Reaper and Santa Muerte. The snake stood for the humans who made a pack with the Devil to live forever. It was incredibly difficult for Tremaine not to laugh out loud. She looked at Hannah, and the other students. They seemed entranced by Vargas’s teachings. Are they for real?

  After class had ended, Miss Vargas took them back to the backstage. Tremaine joined a group of people she met walking down Main Street, where her home was located. Hannah waved her off and hung around after everyone left.

  When everyone was gone, Hannah closed th
e door.

  “So that’s the girl?” the teacher asked as soon as she was alone with Hannah. Hannah nodded. Miss Vargas said, “Have you gotten to…”

  “I only went inside her family’s business. It’s a video store, actually,” she mentioned, “but I couldn’t get farther than that. I considered going around the side, but the person who flipped the building put a brick fence around the entrance to the back and-"

  “Omokah?” Miss Vargas interrupted.

  “Yes, I think so,” Hannah said. “Zac said he asked Omokah about the tenant, but he didn’t say much. He said he thought he was lying.”

  Miss Vargas stood, gathering her purse, “Watch this house be another failure. It’s probably just a hermit. Just like the last time we found a house suspicious.”

  “I’m going to tell Zac anyway. I have my own personal plan in the back of my mind,” Hannah tapped her temple, “I just don’t want to be pushy with Tremaine is all. She seems… guarded.”

  “True. If you want my opinion, I wouldn’t have you going into the tower. I told Zac we should just leave it alone, but he never listens to my advice.” Miss Vargas agreed. “I’m headed over to your house to meet with Zac. Do you need a ride?”

  “Sure.”

  Chapter Three

  Tremaine arrived back at the video store around three o’clock. She went in to the front, sliding over the counter. Her mother was currently on the phone and shot a glare over in her daughter’s direction.

  She slammed the phone into it's receiver, “Tremaine! Don’t do that! It’s a brand new counter for Christ’s sake!”

  “Lighten up, Ma,” She slung her backpack toward one of the office chairs, “I just got back from school.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Josey said, “Can you help me figure out an issue with a computer? You and your dad are the only ones who know how to work it.”