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CHAPTER THREE

Fallon

The house was small, with dirty white siding, a black tarpaper roof, dark green shutters framing old paned windows, and a path of dead flowers that lead up to the sagging porch. A red door with peeling paint opened up to a small, yellow living room filled with horribly mismatched furniture. It was flanked by two bedrooms with white, narrow doors. A bathroom the size of a cell phone was accessible only through the kitchen, with a small clawfoot tub, pedestal sink, and toilet all crammed inside.

The kitchen was painted a glaring white, with a round, red wooden table at its heart, two chairs each holding a flattened, orange cushion on its seat tucked beneath it. A yellowed doily sat in the middle of the table with a set of black cat salt and pepper shakers on top. Mom pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, taking those salt and pepper shakers in her hands and pressing them against her cheeks.

She sighed, and closed her eyes. Dad pulled me away and showed me to my room. I knew it was Mom’s before I even walked through the narrow door; the faded posters of bands and celebrities on the wall that I didn’t know, and the old quilt on the metal bed with the chipped white paint made it seem like I’d walked back in time.

“Your mom and I used to sit on that bed and talk about our future, what we wanted to do, where we wanted to go.” He pointed to a map that was stuck to the wall with pins. “We wanted to see the world and picked out places that looked good in our geography books. We didn’t know how, but we knew we were gonna do it. Your mom and me never wanted anything more than we wanted that.”

I sat on the bed, flinching as the springs squeaked and the mattress dipped so low, my knees touched my chest, and touched the red pushpin that was sticking out of Germany. I picked up a photo frame that held a picture of Mom and Dad when they were younger. “Did you guys ever dream about having kids?”

Dad sat beside me, the bed crying under the weight of his six-foot frame. He took the picture from me and looked at it intently. “Honestly, no. Your mom found out when she was about your age that she couldn’t have kids, and when we both joined the Air Force, we didn’t think anyone would let us adopt so we just gave up. We had resigned ourselves to growing old and alone and maybe owning an auto repair shop once we’d retired.”

He reached over me and touched the red pin in Japan. “That’s where we met your parents.”

I nodded and touched his finger. “You told me. You guys were all stationed there and they made you my godparents after I was born when you all returned to the states. When they died, you adopted me because they had no other family.”

“We had to go across the world and then back again to realize that our dream could never match real life. You’re the best thing to happen to us, and for the rest of our lives, your mom and I will be grateful to your parents for bringing you into this world and for trusting us with your life.”

Guilt washed over me at his words. “I’m sorry, Dad, for being such a brat about coming here,” I said to him before throwing my arms around him, my fingertips barely touching each other as I pressed my head against his shoulder.

“It’s not me you should apologize to,” he pointed out. “But…don’t go doing it right now. She’ll think you’re just doing it because I told you to.”

“Well…isn’t that what you’re kinda doing?”

He laughed. “Smartass. Just give it a day or two, all right?”

“All right,” I agreed, feeling him push my arms out of the way so he could return my hug, his grip strong and firm.

“Hey, can I join in on this bonding moment, or is this a father-daughter thing only?” Mom looked at us from her position in the doorway, her eyes glittering with unshed tears.

Dad pushed me over as he made room for Mom beside him. “Fallon and I were just talking about how we used to map out where we’d be going when we were in high school.”

Mom’s eyes traveled to the map and she smiled. “We’ve been to almost all of them, too. Let that be a lesson to you, Fallon: it doesn’t matter how big the dream, if you want it badly enough, you can have it. Want to know another life lesson?”

I looked at Dad and then back at her. “What?”

“The sooner we unpack, the sooner we can go and check out the rest of the island.”

A deep, disappointed groan slipped out of me as I flung myself back on the bed, thinking about the truck bed and trailer that were filled with boxes. “By the time we’re done, I’ll have to start school.”

“Oh stop being such a drama queen, Fallon. I just want to bring in the boxes from the truck. We can unload the trailer tomorrow,” Mom laughed. “It’ll take us a couple of hours, max and then we can go looking around and maybe get something to eat in town for dinner.”

“Fine,” I huffed before sitting up and following my parents out of the room. “But can we eat somewhere that has something else on the menu besides fish?”

#

Despite how small the island was, it was made clear to me that I could get lost very easily if I didn’t know where I was going. One side of the island was nothing but beaches, with inns and shops fronting the shore. Some privately owned homes sat at the very edge of that side, with high walls with wrought iron spikes that blocked public access.

“Cat walls,” Dad called them, “To keep the cats out.”

“Cats?” I asked, laughing. “Those are pretty high walls just to keep some cats out.”

“Not housecats, Fallon,” Mom said, her voice serious. “Wild cats. Black Cat Rock was named for the black cats that live beneath the cliffs.”

“There are mountain lions here?” My voice sounded squeaky, panicked.

“Don’t worry, Fallon. There hasn’t been an attack here in over fifty-years. The cats just like being a little destructive, that’s all.”

The other side of the island held the cliffs, forest, and huge vacation homes that dotted the scenery like white freckles. “Why don’t they have walls?” I asked as we passed one with just a dirt path leading up to the front of the house.

“Those houses don’t need them. The cats leave them alone,” Dad explained and I never thought to ask why.

There was only one main road on Black Cat Island. It took you completely around without stopping in just over an hour – even in the old truck – but Dad wasn’t content with just one turn. We drove through the town again, past the little shops and the restaurants, the place we stopped at for breakfast, past the inns and the beach homes, until we came to a stretch where both sides of the road were covered in tall grass.

“They call this area the maze,” Dad said as we slowed down, stopping at the point where the road disappeared around a turn. He climbed out and walked around to the passenger side, opening Mom’s door and then pulling the seat forward so that I could climb out as well. He and Mom walked through the weeds, disappearing behind them and leaving me behind.

“Hey!” I called out, running after them.

In an instant, I was swallowed up. The smell of dry, dead grass was thick and it made my nose twitch. I could hear the hum of crickets and the buzz of other insects as they moved away from me, but I couldn’t hear my parents.

“Mom! Dad! Where are you?”

I pushed the grass out of my way as I tried to head in as straight a line as I could. I listened for their movements, for them to respond to my call, but I heard nothing but the bugs and my feet crunching down. “Okay, this is ridiculous,” I mumbled before turning around. “What the heck?”

The grass that should have been tamped down was standing straight up, as if I hadn’t just walked through there seconds ago. I spun around, confusion and fear taking turns in my chest as I began to shout frantically for my parents.

And just like that, they appeared, popping out from between the blades of grass as though they’d always been there. “Not cool,” I scolded. “I’m freaking out here and you guys are just…you’re just…what were you guys doing anyway?”

Dad looked at Mom and they both giggled – actually giggled – before grabbing my hand and pulling me, the three of us plowing through the field of yellow. On and on the grass went. I looked up and the sky was blue and clear and endless. My feet moved on their own and I wasn’t sure what direction I was heading in anymore.

“And we’re here!” Dad shouted as the grass disappeared and the sound of our feet crunching on grass turned into the soft shuffle of sand.

I looked down and squeaked. We were standing in front of a beach that was so small a simple turn of my head would cause it to vanish. The grass ended where clean, creamy sand began. It stretched out for only about ten feet before water the color of a jade storm reached up to touch it.

“Wow,” I said, letting go of my parents’ hands and walking up to get a closer look. “Does the water look like this on the other beaches?”

Mom kicked some of the sand up into the water and laughed. “Nope. Those beaches are for the tourists, baby. This place, this is only for those who know how to get here and no one can just show you or draw you a map. Your feet have to learn which way to go.”

“My feet-”

Dad came behind me and scooped me up. “Yes, kitten. First lesson? Getting them wet!”

I screamed as he waded into the water, my cries for Mom’s help falling on deaf ears; she was too busy laughing at what was happening to care. With no effort at all, Dad tossed me into the chilly water, my body sinking quickly the salty liquid. I hit bottom in seconds and brought my legs beneath me, standing up and coughing out water as my parents playfully splashed me even more.

“That wasn’t funny!”

“Yes it was,” Mom laughed. “Come on, Fallon. It’s the beach! You’re supposed to get wet!”

“Yeah, but not fully dressed!” I shouted, pushing my wet hair out of my face. “Are we gonna go home before we go back to town?”

“Are you kidding? You’re an islander now, kitten! No one is going to care if you’re dripping wet and covered in sand. You’ll see.”

“I’ll see my butt,” I grumbled as I trudged out of the water and plopped onto the hot sand. My t-shirt and khaki shorts squished as I did so, while water sloshed out of my sneakers. I pulled the shoes off and held them upside-down, watching as water and sand poured out, landing in clumps on the sand by my feet.

Dad and Mom played in the water for a little while longer before returning to my side. They grabbed my arms, Dad grabbing my sneakers, and dragged me back through the grass and to the truck. We climbed in, my parents’ laughter and the sound of old, cracked vinyl meeting wet clothes somehow making everything feel right for the first time today.

We drove back into town and parked in a sandy lot next to the tiny theater. The people traffic was heavy as the tourists made their way from shop to shop before heading back to the inns or to the beach. The smell of sunscreen and tanning oil was heavy, and I could have sworn I saw a trail of grease following every one of them.

I read the title of the movie on the marquee out loud. “Dark Veil? Is that some kind of crime drama or something?”

Dad’s face crinkled up. “A really cheesy murder mystery, It’s the only thing the theater’s played since it opened up thirty years ago.”

“And we’re going to watch it?”

Dad’s head bounced up and down. “Maybe after we have an early dinner, Kitten. Good God, look who’s heading this way, Vangie.”

Mom and I turned our heads and Mom cooed while I groaned. A man with bright red hair was approaching us. He wore a plain, plaid, button-down shirt over a gray t-shirt. He had jeans on and a pair of thick, black boots covering his feet. His face was wide, with weathered lines marking his forehead and spraying out from the corner of his eyes. His skin was a sun-baked brown, and as he came closer, I could see that his eyes were the same color as the water at the beach we’d just came from.

But he wasn’t why I groaned.

Standing beside him, pushing Audrey in her wheelchair, was him, the jerk who’d shoved me to the ground.

“Johann Mace, good to see you!” Mom said as she leaned in to give him a hug. I was surprised when she stood a couple of inches taller than he was.

“Vangie Lake, am I seeing things? Have you finally made it back to the island? And you brought your old dog with you. How’s it going, Ray?”

He and Dad shook hands, patting each other on the shoulder and laughing at the obvious height difference between them. “Doing good, man; doing good. We’re here to stay; we’ve moved into Vangie’s grandparents’ place.”

“You mean by the junkyard?” Johann laughed, the sound of it deep and hoarse, like he’d been shouting all day. “Oh hey, these are my kids. You might not remember Liam – he was a baby the last time you saw him – and this is my daughter, Audrey. Guys, this is Evangeline and Raymond Timmons. They grew up on the island with your mom and me.”

Audrey reached out and shook Mom and Dad’s hand. I noticed that she was wearing a pair of white shorts and a black t-shirt that read “I Got Clawed At Black Cat Rock” on its front. She was smiling, her eyes now clear and her cheeks pink with happiness instead of red from hurt. I couldn’t help but smile because of that.

“And who’s that? You taking her for a tour of the place?”

The jerk was speaking again, and he was glaring at me while he did it.

“Oh,” Mom said, noticing. “This is our daughter, Fallon.”

“Your daughter? How the hell is this trog your daughter?”

“Liam!” Johann snapped.

“I told you she’s not a trog,” Audrey said smugly before rolling towards me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I said, trying very hard to keep my teeth from gnashing.

“You’ve met already?” Audrey’s father asked, looking between the two of us, surprised.

“I told you, Dad, she’s the one who was harassing Aud,” Liam said, his voice angry, his eyes filled with contempt.

“She was not harassing me!”

“I wasn’t harassing her!”

Our synchronized protests at the accusation caused everyone moving around us to stop, their attention caught by the sudden outburst.

“I saw you. You made her cry,” Liam hissed, his finger somehow reaching across the wide space between us to jam into my shoulder. “And my sister doesn’t cry.”

Audrey pulled her brother’s arm down and like lightning, her fist flew out and she punched him in the gut doubling him over. “You jerk! I told you it wasn’t her fault! What part of ‘not her fault’ do you not get?”

Johann pushed himself between his children and looked at them and then me, my parents standing silently behind me as they waited for an explanation. “Audrey, tell me what happened.”

Quickly, she told her father what happened, leaving out the part where I admitted to being her lover. “I was already having a bad day so it was easy for those girls to get under my skin and Fallon kept them from making things worse. She didn’t hurt me, she helped me.”

I could see it, see the anger and resentment in Liam’s eyes as his sister repeated it over and over again. I didn’t understand why he looked at me the way he did, why he felt so much hatred for me. I tried to look away but he snarled, and my pride refused to let him think that I would be that easily scared. I snarled back, although nowhere near as menacing or as angry as his.

“You helped my daughter You didn’t even know her and you helped her,” Johann said, taking my shoulders into his hands and bringing me to his chest quickly. I heard my parents gasp before they both started coughing, as though something they expected to happen didn’t, and they wanted to mask their shock. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“It was nothing,” I mumbled into his shirt.

He pulled me away and looked at me almost fiercely. “It was everything. You don’t know what you’ve done. I can’t thank you enough for helping Audrey…and me.”

“You’re welcome,” I said softly before he let me go. I winked at Audrey, who grinned “So, where are you guys going?”

“We were heading to my mother-in-law’s for dinner. Hey, why don’t you come and say hello. I’m pretty sure that Ma would love to see you guys.”

Dad laughed. “We already did. We stopped by this morning after getting off the ferry. The old lady still cooks a mean sardine.”

“Eh. What’s so hard about cooking a fish? We used to do it all the time, remember?” Johann said cockily.

Mom butted in and wagged her finger at the two of them. “Yeah, but no one would ever pay to eat one of those matchsticks you guys called food.”

“Why’d you go and adopt someone like her?” Liam asked my parents suddenly, cutting into the laughter and silencing everyone. “The last thing we need is one of her kind messing up our lives again.”

“Liam!”

Liam stormed off, his father reaching out to grab him but only getting a fistful of shirt before his son wormed free. “Goddamn that boy.”

Mom wrapped a comforting arm around Johan. “He’s a teenager, Joe. They have attitudes. You used to have one, too, remember?”

Johann shook his head, his voice somber. “I never acted like that. I never treated the others like that. Ever since Lyssa died…he’s just not the same boy.”

I looked at Audrey and I could see the sadness in her face that was in her father’s voice. I didn’t dare ask what was going on. Losing a parent was something I just couldn’t remember. I didn’t know that feeling because my memory told me that Raymond and Evangeline Timmons were my parents. I didn’t know a life before them and I felt no guilt in saying that I didn’t want to. But Audrey, and obviously her brother knew, and in spite of myself, I felt a little sorry for them.

“He’s a good kid, though. You can tell,” Dad spoke up. “He’s protective of sister. That’s a good trait. You can be proud of that, Joe.”

“Yeah, well, when he stops acting like a punk, I’ll be sure to tell him how proud of him I am. So, dinner?”

“Sure. I could go for some sardines again. Vangie?”

Audrey excitedly bobbed her head up and down. “Yes! Maybe you guys could come back to the house after?”

Mom nodded and I groaned at the idea of more sardines as the adults headed away. Audrey began pushing her wheels and I followed, wondering how long I could go living on this island without food.

CHAPTER FOUR

LIAM

It bothered me how angry I was. I couldn’t believe that that drowned rat that looked so comfortable around Audrey and Dad now lived here, and was one of us. What the hell were her parents thinking, adopting someone like that and bringing her here?

“I don’t understand why you care so much about this trog.” My girlfriend Brenda was lazily pulling her brown hair into a thick braid. “So she’s adopted. Big deal. It’s not like everyone on the rock is gonna start adopting trogs now, too.”

Brenda’s bed was old and it squeaked as I rolled over to look at her, her body covered in bite marks and scratches. She was naked except for her hair, her feet tucked under her crossed legs as she looked at me, bored already with my explanation. She’d said nothing when I showed up at her window needing to work off the worst of my anger.

The sex was rough and quick and it showed. Brenda’s green eyes were flat when it was over, and I felt a little prick to my pride that neither of us had gotten anything from it. “You’re not seriously going to let some trog get to you like that, are you? She’s nothing.”

“It’s not that simple. I don’t care what Audrey says. I know Fallon did something to her.”

“Fallon? Her name is Fallon? What the hell kind of name is that?” Brenda asked, her braiding finished.

“I don’t know, Brenda,” I snapped. “I didn’t exactly stop to ask for the meaning or her sign. Next time, I’ll ask what her birthstone is too, would you like that?”

“Stop being such a dick already. What’s your problem? Why were you with your dad and sister anyway? I thought you and Jameson were going hunting.”

The subject hadn’t come up once with anyone, not even Dad when he saw me walking in the house two hours ago with the truck keys clenched in my hand. “It’s Jameson’s fault.”

Brenda stood up, snorting. “Everything is always someone else’s fault.” She grabbed a pair of shorts from the end of the bed and slipped them on. “What did he do this time, huh? Tell you he’s got a bigger wang?”

“Audrey asked him out,” I shouted, the same repulsed feeling I’d gotten when Jameson told me coming back to me, hard and fast.

“And? She’s had a crush on him since she was ten. You knew that already.” Brenda slipped on my shirt and sat back down beside me. “So…did he say yes? Is that what’s got you all pissed off?”

That would have been the reason to be pissed off, wouldn’t it? That would have made sense. It would have been exactly what every other brother would get angry about. Dating a friend’s sister was a deal breaker, no matter where you were, no matter who you were. But Audrey wasn’t just anyone’s sister. She was my sister. And I wanted to see her happy, no matter how.

“He said no.”

Brenda laughed, her body shaking the bed with each damn guffaw. “That’s why you’re mad? Because he said no? Are you kidding me?”

“He broke her heart, Bren. He’s been flirting with her – we’ve both seen it – but when she finally felt brave enough to ask him out, he just flat out tells her no, like it was all a game or something.” I punched the bed, hearing Brenda shriek as the frame collapsed and the mattress slammed onto the floor.

“So he told her no. What’s the big deal? It’s not like things would have worked out anyway. You know the rules, so does Audrey. She and Jameson would’ve never worked. You know that.”

I thought I was angry. I thought I was furious before. But the way Brenda laughed when she said that, the way she smiled made my stomach turn. “You think because she’s in a wheelchair that she doesn’t deserve to be with anyone, don’t you?”

My accusation stung. Her eyes told me so. “Liam, it wouldn’t matter if she was in that chair or not. We all know what’s gonna happen when she turns sixteen. She’s gonna be told the same thing they told my sister and your aunt, and half the women on this damn island: she can’t have kids. Even if she could walk, she can’t give anyone a future. She’s a walking headstone and you, and Jameson, and even Audrey knows it.”

“No, we don’t,” I said firmly. “No one knows whether or not Audrey will be able to have kids. She has as good a chance as you did to have kids. Her being in that chair’s got nothing to do with it.”

Her hands rubbed on my chest as she leaned in, her lips, pink and pouty. “Baby, I know you want to believe that she’s going to be okay, but the sooner we accept the truth, the easier it’ll be. I love Audrey. You know I do. And Jameson loves her, too. It’s why he turned her down. He doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life growing to resent her because he can’t have what he wants. Or worse, cheat on her. Is that what you want? You want your sister and your best friend to be miserable together for the rest of their lives because one of them has a crush?”

“They don’t have to get married, Bren. She’s fifteen! The last thing she’s thinking about right now is forever. They could have just gone out with each other for a week or two and then they would have realized that it wouldn’t have worked out. He didn’t have to shut her down like that,” I argued, taking her hands and squeezing them.

“Maybe that’s the real reason why she was crying.”

This time it was my turn to sit up. “What?”

“Well, you said that she swore up and down that that trog person didn’t make her cry. What if what she said happened was the truth? What if Jameson turning her down made her so upset that what she said happened at your grans’ place was what really happened?”

I looked at her stupidly. “Are you seriously taking the trog’s side?”

“No, you idiot, I’m taking Audrey’s side. Why would she lie about something like that? To protect a trog? Really? You think she’d lie to her brother and her father just to save some trog she’s never met? Your sister’s sweet, but she’s not that sweet.”

“So…what you’re saying is that even the lion knows better than to eat the mouse that’s trying to save it?” I didn’t even realize what I had said until I looked at Brenda and saw the confusion on her face. It was so blatant; I didn’t know whether or not it was real.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Aesop’s fable, the Lion and the Mouse; come on, we all read it in school,” I reminded her.

“You know I don’t care about that stuff. Books and stories don’t really mean much in my mom’s salon.”

When it came to dreams, Brenda’s was probably the only one on the island that would come true. She’d always dreamed of taking over her mother’s salon, and since businesses were never bought here but rather inherited, she would be getting exactly what she wanted and it made her lazy.

But…that was Brenda. She knew her limitations. She’d never excelled in school – her grades were barely enough to move her onto the next grade – because she knew that her life was here on the island with the rest of us. That’s how it was here; we all knew what was in store for us. Brenda would take over the salon. I’d take over my dad’s boat. Jameson would take over his dad’s crate building shop.

And Audrey…I’d take care of her, too. Because, no matter how much I hated to admit it, Brenda was right. We had rules on the island, rules that had been set in place for centuries that kept it in our hands. The original deeds for property had been given out over a century ago with clauses that allowed the property to only be auctioned off when there was no family left to inherit.

What made this clause different, however, was the fact that not just any family member could inherit the property. Only someone who was related by blood could inherit; it was called a blood law and no one on the island dared to break it. Not even me.

Which is why Jameson not wanting to be with Audrey shouldn’t have made me so angry. He didn’t want to end up with someone who couldn’t give him kids; without them, everything he owned, everything his parents had worked for, his grandparents…it would all end up being sold at auction to the highest bidder, and in our world that was almost always a trog, a tourist who hopped islands like frogs, hopping from one to the other and infesting them. Our island was no different, but with our law we’d managed to keep most of them from buying up everything like they had everywhere else.

Every single time they’d been able to do it here, they destroyed the old buildings or homes and turned them into inns or private estates. The numbers were increasing over the years as more people died without any relatives, which put fear into our community that had never been there before. We were dying out.

And all at once, like being punched in the head, I realized why Audrey had been hurt. It was more than just being turned down. It was more than the possibility of never having kids. It was the fear of being alone.

I shoved Brenda off and grabbed my clothes, quickly pulling them on. “Goddamn it, now I wanna kill Jameson and every freaking trog on this damn island,” I shouted, not caring who heard me.

“Because of Audrey?”

“Yeah, because of Audrey. She never cries, Bren. You know that. She never, ever cries, but today she was. Today she was and for some stupid reason I thought it was because of that damn trog, Fallon. Part of me thinks that if it had been anyone else, any other trog, that I would have known sooner.”

Brenda followed me around her room as I gathered my wallet and keys. “Why?”

“Why what?”

She grabbed my arm. “Why would you have known sooner if it had been someone else if she hadn’t been there? How would you have known that it was because of Jameson if that Fallon chick hadn’t been there?”

It seemed so simple that I didn’t get how she didn’t know. “Because she’s different, Bren. She was raised by people like us. She knows about us, she has to. Do you know how dangerous that is? Bringing someone like that here? It’s no fable this time. It really is like letting a mouse loose to play with the cats.”

Brenda purred and licked my ear before whispering, “But Liam, I thought you liked playing with your food.”

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