Текст книги "Island of the Forbidden "

Автор книги: Hunter Shea

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rusty was grateful that he was bunking with Mitch in the same room. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that the whole incident earlier with Paul downstairs had scared the crap out of him. He’d pulled Paul aside and looked him dead in the eye when he asked if he’d been putting them on for the sake of the show. Paul vehemently denied any play-acting, and had the red marks around his neck to prove it.

Could Nina have somehow put those marks there? No, there hadn’t been enough time.

Not to mention, Paul was pretty shaken up.

Rusty looked at his watch, catching the dial in the moonlight. Almost two. Mitch snored away as if nothing had happened.

The air in the room was so cold, the exposed flesh of his face felt like ice. I’ll be the first person to get frostbite in a house sleeping several feet from a roaring fire.

Something was very wrong with Ormsby House. Of that he no longer had any doubts.

Gotta check that boat tomorrow, see if it works. If he could beat it off the island, he would. Mitch could handle things all by himself just fine.

“I shouldn’t be freezing in the middle of the fucking summer,” he said into his pillow, burrowing deeper under the blankets.

He wanted no part of the place, or Nina, or the Harpers, or even Paul. He thought of offering a ride to freedom to Eddie and Jessica, but she seemed determined to guard the kids.

But how do you guard children from a ghost?

The question gave him a chill deeper than the unearthly frost that permeated every molecule of the house.

The next morning, Mitch woke up early, brewed a pot of coffee and woke Paul up with a steaming mug. “Rise and shine, butterfly.”

Paul woke with a start, overcome by a hacking cough. It took him a minute or so to settle down and find his voice, scratchy as it was.

“What, no oatmeal and eggs?” he said, sitting up in the bed.

“We need to talk, outside. Get dressed.”

Mitch walked out, not allowing any room for question or discussion. He waited for Paul by the entrance of the path to the dock. Paul shuffled out the front door several minutes later clad in gray sweats. His hair and beard looked windblown.

He squinted at the rising sun.

“What time is it?” Paul asked.

“It doesn’t matter. What the hell are we really dealing with here? I know you didn’t fake that little attack last night because you were never that good an actor. I kept the camera rolling, by the way. Talk about a goddamn hook! You told us this place was haunted. How haunted is it?”

Paul cast a quick glance at the house. “I’m not sure. When they found the bodies twenty years ago, the place became off limits. That was horror enough. There were whispers of strange stuff going on before then, but no one is alive who could verify a thing. Somehow, an urban legend grew about the whole island. Don’t go near haunted Ormsby Island. They say a reporter went out alone one night just after the mass murder had been discovered and never came back. Since anyone who had committed the murders was either dead or gone at that point, it had to be the island itself that offed the reporter. Mitch, Ormsby Island isn’t even on most maps of Charleston Harbor. Locals will turn away the moment you even say its name. Whether it started as parents telling their teen kids ghost stories to scare them the hell away from the place or what, I don’t know. The moment my sister and brother-in-law saw it, they knew it was the perfect backdrop for what we wanted to do. When they sent me the pictures, I couldn’t have agreed more. Man, look at the place.”

The flakes of paint peeling from the house held the orange rays of the sun, appearing as tiny flames wavering in the early morning breeze. Mitch wished to hell he had his camera with him now. If ever a place looked like it was straight from hell itself, it was Ormsby House at this very moment. He made a note to come out early tomorrow and film some B roll.

“After they bought it for next to nothing, they brought Nina on who verified that there are definite ghosts trapped here.”

Mitch said, “I’m not saying I believe in all that horse crap, especially anything that comes from your little gypsy’s mouth, but whatever it is the two of you are doing, you have to not only keep it up, you have to get it in overdrive. This is platinum stuff. Once we get inside, I’m not going to have a waking moment without a camera rolling. I’ll even bring it in with me when I take a piss. If you can prove it to me that this shit exists, you’re gonna have millions of people eating out of your hands. If it gets hairy again, don’t lose your cool. If you do, we’re done for. You got me?”

Paul nodded, taking a long gulp of his coffee that had already gone tepid from the frigid air.

“I’m serious, Paul. We’ve been buddies for a dog and cat’s age, and I know how you can flake out at times. Rusty and I put our asses on the line for you. Lose your cool, and we’re gonna have another conversation. A very unpleasant conversation.”

Paul held his steely gaze, feeling him out to glean even a hint of jest in his words. Mitch made sure to give no quarter. It had been a long time since he’d felt the rush of working on a project destined for more than straight-to-video.

Breaking into an edgy smile, Paul said, “Yeah, I get it. I’ll be cool as a well digger’s ass.”

He jumped when the front door slammed shut, the harsh bang echoing around the trees.

Mitch shook his head. “That well digger must be working in a hot spring.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The moment Jessica’s alarm chimed on the pillow just inches from her face, she felt the difference in the house. A palpable press of bodies surrounded her bed. She may not have been able to see them…yet, but she knew they were there as surely as she knew there was a bed beneath her.

Walking to the window, she became aware of the absence of something that should have filled any silence this time in the morning.

The air was devoid of birdsong.

“Even Tweety is steering clear now,” she said as she muscled the window open. The fire in her room had died while she slept. The air outside was refreshingly warmer.

We have to find out who these kids are, get their names. I have to get them away from here before Nina and Paul make an international spectacle of the place.

She could picture it easily, as the same process had happened with so many other reportedly haunted places around the world over the years, though she suspected very few had the type of EB manifestation that lingered on Ormsby Island. Eddie said Nina had some abilities, which meant she would be poking a hornet’s nest. Paul and his little film crew would capture enough compelling footage to catch a producer’s attention. Before they knew it, Ormsby Island would become a paranormal attraction like Waverly Hills or Houghton Mansion or the Whaley House. The place would be crawling with people anxious to catch a ghost on camera or audio. The children of Ormsby Island would never find peace. And through it all, Tobe, Paul and Daphne would ring in the profits.

Unless Daphne meant what she said yesterday.

Gathering her clothes and toiletry kit, she padded down the hall to the shared bathroom. The hot water was room temperature at best. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a bath instead of a shower.

She toweled off, brushed her teeth, tied her hair back, put on a plain, long-sleeved shirt and slipped into a Cinderella Long Cold Winter tour T-shirt. It seemed apropos. There was a group that may have looked like a hair band but had the heart and boozy soul of hardcore bluesmen. On the way back to her room, she knocked on Eddie’s door.

He surprised her by yanking it open, ready to go.

“You’re up early,” she said.

He ran his fingers along the stubble of his scalp. “I don’t sleep much anymore, so being up is a constant state of being. What’s the first order of the day?”

She motioned for him to keep his voice down. “Shh. I think the kids are still asleep.”

Confusion creased his brows.

“The living kids,” she said.

He slapped his forehead. “Holy cow, how could that slip my mind?”

“It might be because your mind is overflowing with image of the EBs that are everywhere. I won’t hold it against you.” She closed her door softly. “First, I’m starving. Let’s go downstairs and forage. Later, we need to keep a close eye on Alice and Jason. I also need to find a way to get some alone time with Daphne. And we have to be real careful about staying out of Mitch and Rusty’s line of fire. They can’t show our faces because we won’t sign releases, but I don’t even want my elbow to be part of their bullshit.”

“All sounds simple enough.” As she walked to the stairway, he pulled her back with a light tug on her shoulder. “They’re responding to you now.”

Turning to face him, she said, “Responding to me? What did I say?”

“The hallway was full of them. When you said we were going downstairs to eat, they started filing down the stairs.”

“They all took the stairs?”

Eddie nodded, his shining, gifted eyes watching the ghostly procession.

He said, “They don’t want to be far from you, Jess. And I’m not entirely sure it’s well intentioned.”

“Come to us,” the voices whispered.

Every spare molecule of the children’s room was taken by the trapped souls of the island. They watched Alice and Jason sleep, bundled under layers of blankets, mouths partly open, breathing evenly.

“Come to us and see.”

Alice stirred, turning to her side, a tiny groan escaping her lips.

“We can show you the bad man. Beware of the bad man. You have to come and see.”

The spirit children, the ones Alice and Jason called the Last Kids, waited patiently. They and the others had been very skilled at waiting. The waiting was fine when it was empty, timeless. Things were changing.

The bad man was back.

The bad man made them afraid. Because they knew that even in death, the bad man could do things to them. Sometimes, they could feel the things he’d done in the past—terrible things. The beating, how it hurt to be thrown in the pit, the awful smell that made their lungs close off, the whiff of sulfur, the burning.

Maybe this time, they could stop the bad man. Leaning closer to Alice, they said, “Come and see. See the bad man. See the bad man.”

“Tobe, I want you to see if the boat is working this morning,” Daphe said as she and her husband sat on the back patio drinking tea.

He was dressed in a black suit with an overly starched white shirt and ebony tie. She thought he looked like a pallbearer and when she told him so, he’d only smiled. Then she remembered they were supposed to be on camera today and was disgusted by the persona he wanted to portray.

“Are we running out of supplies?” he asked.

She slammed the teacup onto the saucer. “I want to take our children away from here until everything is over. Don’t you have the slightest bit of care?”

He calmly took a sip, regarding her for a chilling moment. “Dear, what do you think can happen to them? Ghosts can’t harm you.”

“Tell that to Paul.”

With a dismissive wave of his hand, he replied, “Your brother has always been prone to hysterics. It’s why he’s perfect for this project of ours. That’s right, I said ours. I don’t remember you hesitating in the slightest as we put everything together.”

The truth of his words twisted in her, turned the hot tea to a surge of acid in her throat. “It’s not the ghosts I’m concerned about. Jason and Alice will catch pneumonia if they’re here much longer. Whatever is happening is getting beyond our expectations or control. For all I know, we should be calling in every university with a research division to study the island. This is more than just supernatural.”

Tobe collected their empty teacups. “Please, don’t fall apart on me now. It’s only for a few more days.” Walking back to the house, he stopped and looked back at her. “And I already tried starting the boat today. It still won’t work.”

Daphne jumped from her chair so fast, it skittered across the flagstone, nearly tipping over. “What if it won’t start days from now? We have no phone, no way to call for help. When Paul disconnected the landline, he must have pulled the cord too rough. Even that phone is useless to us now.”

He continued to the back door. “If worse comes to worst, I have a flare gun. The harbor is full of people this time of year. I hardly think we’ll be stranded forever.”

Daphne’s mind was beset with anger and worry. Sure, he could fire off as many flares as he wanted. When people saw they were coming from Ormsby Island, the very place the people of Charleston had spent decades wishing away, would anyone dare answer their call for help?

Jason and Alice ran by everyone as they exited the house, grabbing a couple of granola bars along the way.

“Where are you guys going?” Ms. Backman asked.

Forcing his legs to keep moving, Jason said, “Outside to play. We’ll be back later.”

It was impossible to deny he had a crush on her. She wasn’t just pretty. She was cool and smart and so different than any other adult he’d ever met. All he wanted to do was exist in her orbit, circling her like a loyal moon.

But Alice said they had to go and no matter how hard he tried to deny her, he’d caved.

“The Last Kids want to talk to us,” she’d said when they were getting ready.

“How do you know that?”

“They told me last night.”

“It was just a dream.”

“They came into my dream, but they were real.”

One look in her eyes told him there was no way of his convincing her it was all made up in her mind. From the moment they had moved here, she was the one who had bonded with the Last Kids. There were times he thought he could hear them, far away whispers on a rolling wind, but it could have just been people talking on their boats as they sailed past the island.

He might have dismissed it entirely if it wasn’t for Alice, who was able to make sense of their murmuring. It was Alice who had led him to the small clearing off the path, under guidance from the Last Kids. She had even been the one to find the gravestones within the trees.

They came to the clearing, chests heaving from their sprint. The sun shined on the barren area like a spotlight. Whenever he came here, he expected to see coils of mist rising from the ground like a graveyard in the old horror movies he sometimes watched with Uncle Paul.

There was no mist, no writhing ghosts—just the warmth from the sun and the salty smell of the harbor.

“Are they here?” he asked, his voice low like the way he talked in the library. It was an involuntary reflex whenever he came here, an unspoken request for reverence from the land itself.

Alice looked around, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Yes.”

“Can you see them?” A part of him would be very jealous if she could hear and see them when he was left to fumble around, relying on her interpretations of their words.

“No. But I can hear them. I think they’re all here.” Her head cocked to one side. “What?”

Jason said, “I didn’t say anything.”

She shushed him with a finger pressed hard into her lips. “Not you.”

Alice knelt into the dead grass, listening intently. At times she would nod her head, smile, then look very, very serious.

For the first time since coming to Ormsby Island, Jason felt anxious about Alice’s interaction with the Last Kids. He wondered what was being discussed. Judging by his sister’s face, it wasn’t good. Were they angry with them for bringing Ms. Backman and Mr. Home to this spot?

They’d once lived in a four hundred-year-old house in Edinburgh that was said to be haunted by the ghost of the original owner, a mean spirited man who had dedicated centuries to retaining his privacy. Their mother and father scoffed at the old stories and nothing had ever happened there to make anyone believe that a mean old phantom was prowling the house, chasing away all who dared lived within its confines.

It was Alice who’d told Jason that the old man was in fact a young boy. He didn’t want to frighten people. He only wanted to play. So, at Alice’s urging, they had included him when they played tag, daring him to catch them, set aside a piece for him at board games, and even read stories to him. They’d kept it secret from their parents. Jason had learned at a very young age that ghosts were not to be feared, but rather understood. And if you were lucky, as they were, befriended.

Ormsby Island was just like that house in Edinburgh, only on a grander scale.

But something had changed. Ever since Jessica and Eddie and Uncle Paul’s friends and that weird woman Nina came onto the island, things were different. Jason was just beginning to sense a new intent, though he had no way of confirming exactly what it could be.

“What are they saying?” he asked his sister.

Alice pushed her hair behind her ears. “They’re all talking at once. It’s hard to make out. But their voices are stronger. It’s not just the Last Kids. There are other ones too. A lot of them. They keep saying the bad man.”

“Who’s the bad man?” Jason’s heartbeat quickened.

“I don’t know. They want us to see the bad man. Come and see the bad man.” Alice grabbed her head. “It hurts. They hurt. I can feel their hurt.”

Jason shouted, “Stop hurting my sister! You’re being mean.”

Alice held out her hands, “Wait, I can’t hear you when you talk at the same time. We want to help you. Do you still want to be our friends?”

Jason got down on one knee beside Alice. He placed his hand in hers. She was trembling.

“Please, do what Alice says. Talk one at a time.”

She scrunched her eyes shut. “They won’t listen.”

Her hand tightened around his own.

“If you don’t stop, we’ll leave,” Jason said. It was strange, talking to the air and trees, knowing the place was filled with the specters of the Last Kids.

What if Alice was imagining all of it? What if she had made up the boy in Edinburgh? The thought of his sister being a liar, or worse, crazy, scared him.

Alice suddenly screamed, a high-pitched screech that startled him so much, he let go of her hand and fell onto his side.

A cyclone of wind stirred in the center of the clearing, picking up tufts of browned grass, twigs and pebbles of blackened dirt. Alice clasped her hands over her ears, shrieking until her voice began to falter.

The cyclone approached them. Jason jammed his hands under Alice’s armpits and dragged her away, the back of her heels carving two irregular trails in the dirt. He tried to back into the small opening in the brush. It would be hard navigating through the narrow tunnel, but he had to get clear of the eddying mass of air and earth.

Alice was ripped from his grip.

One moment he could feel the heat from under her arms, hear her screams. The next, she was gone, pulled into the cyclone as if she weighed no more than a blade of grass.

“Alice!”

He couldn’t see her, couldn’t hear her, but he knew she was there, hidden in the eye of the swirling storm. This was no act of nature. The Last Kids were doing this to her, to them.

“You’re going to hurt her! Stop it! I hate you! I hate all of you! Let her go!”

The edge of the cyclone tugged at him, drawing him nearer. He reached out, grabbing desiccated branches from the bushes behind him. They broke off in his hands. The ground burned the exposed part of his side where his shirt had ridden up as he was dragged into the center of the clearing and up, up, up into the whirling, heedless cyclone.

Everything had become a frenzy.

The boy and the girl weren’t listening. They needed to see!

Frustration swelled to a torrent.

You must see! See the bad man! Stay away from the bad man!

Alice and Jason struggled against their tempest. They needed to understand. They needed to be properly afraid.

They had to listen, and see…and feel.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Eddie watched with great amusement as Jessica duct taped slices of bologna over the lenses of any camera that was in the same room as them. Mitch and Rusty had been busy this morning. It looked as if every corner of the first floor was wired for audio and video. He could hear them shuffling overhead as they presumably did the same on the second floor.

She was thoughtful enough to remove the bologna as they left a room.

“You getting a kick out of this?” he asked as they sat in the main dining room.

“Not really. In fact, I hate it. I hate myself for getting stuck out here. I hate every single thing about this place.”

“Just focus on the kids. You know as well as I do that everything happens for a reason.”

He hoped the reason wasn’t so he could re-master his abilities. He felt more in control of himself today than he had been in years. Because of his renewed psychic vitality, he was aware that the house was completely devoid of EB activity. It was a little unsettling.

Where are they?

“I guess we should go out and find them. It might be fun to play tag or something for a while. At least we’ll get some exercise,” Jessica said, pushing away from the table.

“Or you can stay here and help us,” Nina said, sauntering into the room wearing a long black dress and thick, knitted shawl.

“You’re a psychic,” Jessica said. “Read my mind.”

Nina stepped in her path, blocking her exit.

“Not your smartest move,” Jessica said, her jaw clenched.

“I don’t understand why we have to be on opposing sides here,” Nina said. “From what I can see, this is a case of the living versus the dead. Whether you like it or not, we’re on the same team.”

Jessica stepped back.

“That’s your problem. You think you can come in here, rile things up and leave when you have enough to titillate the masses. There’s no war to be had here. This is a place of tragedy. Sometimes it’s best to leave the dead in peace.”

Jessica angled her body to sneak around Nina without coming in contact with her. When Nina tried to block her again, Eddie pushed outward with his mind, sliding Nina back a good two feet until her ass came to rest against a dining room chair. The woman looked to him as if he’d just made a demon appear in the room.

Jessica walked away, oblivious to Eddie’s intervention.

“How did you do that?” Nina asked. Her hands gripped the sides of the chair for support.

“Just be glad it wasn’t Jessica shoving you aside. By nature, I’m a pacifist.” He paused. “We aren’t of the same nature.”

He left Nina in shock.

She doesn’t know as much as she thinks she does. Good. Keep her wondering.

The icy prick of tiny needles jabbed at the base of his skull. She was trying to pry inside his mind. He shut her out forcefully enough to cause her to grunt.

And stay the heck out!

Jessica took a deep, relatively warm breath when they went outside. She wished she’d brought a heavy jacket so being in the house wasn’t so bone chilling. Then again, who would think you’d need anything more than a T-shirt in the South Carolina summer?

She and Eddie went behind the house, expecting to hear Alice and Jason playing nearby. Only the rattle of leaves blowing in the wind greeted them.

“You think they’re back to skipping stones?” she asked.

“It’s what I’d be doing if I was a kid. Boys tend to obsess on anything that involves throwing stuff until they think they’re the best at it. We like to become legends in our own minds.”

Jessica laughed. After the tension with Nina, it felt good. They traipsed through the underbrush, searching for the spot they’d eaten at the night before. She listened for the sound of rocks plinking into the water. They found the spot, but not the children.

“Wanna try the dock next?” she said. Eddie shrugged and followed.

When the docks turned up empty, she began to worry.

“They’re somewhere,” Eddie said. “We just have to think like kids.”

“What if they went in the water and a riptide or something took them under?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think there are riptides in the harbor.” Closing his eyes for a moment, he said, “I can feel them. And yes, they’re very much alive.”

She nudged him in the side with her elbow. “Can’t you do one of your mind tricks where you latch onto them or something? I once described you as a human GPS to Angela.”

“I wish I could. That was one of the first things to go for me when things started to get bad. I’m feeling a lot stronger now, but I still can’t seem to tap into the things I used to.”

Jessica cupped her hands around her mouth. “Alice! Jason! Where are you? Meet us in front of the house so we can play!”

Eddie rubbed his ears. “And you’re a human dog whistle. I didn’t know your voice went that high.”

“You should hear me when I shout stranger danger. I was top of my class in second grade when they gave us that lesson.”

They walked back to the house, Jessica calling out for the kids every few steps.

“You still do that whole kickboxing thing?” Eddie asked.

“When I can. It’s hard to keep up with steady lessons when you’re on the road. A lot of towns I stayed in didn’t even have a place to do it. Why? You think I’m going to need to kick some living ass?”

“I hope not.”

When they got to the house and there was still no Alice or Jason, Jessica said, “Let’s split up. You take the west end of the island, I’ll take the east. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

“It shouldn’t even take that long,” he said. She saw the concerned look on his face.

“You can still feel them?”

“Yes. They’re here. Let’s go.”

Jessica’s heart thudded in her chest. This is what Eve must have felt all those times I wandered off in department stores, she thought. For some reason when she was a very little kid, she derived great joy out of hiding within the circular racks of clothes, sending Eve into a panic. Hearing her name on the intercom only made the game more fun. Her aunt never let her forget how awful it made her feel to make Jessica one of those leash kids. The little chest harness did wonders for her mental health, but it made her feel as if she’d failed as an adoptive parent.

She heard Eddie calling their names, answering his calls with her own. Daphne was standing on the front porch when they met back at the house. A look of expectant terror crippled her normally nonchalant features.

“Where are my children?” she asked, her hands balled into tight fists.

Jessica tried to settle her nerves, breathing in enough air to speak without the words fluttering from her lips. “I don’t know. Eddie and I have been looking everywhere. Can you check the house? Maybe they’ve been inside this whole time.”

“Yes, yes, they may be in their room. They like to do puzzles or read this time of the day. Will you please keep looking for them out here?” Daphne pleaded.

As much as Jessica wanted to remain angry with Daphne for duping her into coming to the island, her about-face over the misguided setup was winning her over. God help the person who came between a mother and her children. This whole farce was a wedge that had shaken Daphne into her senses. Before they could get to the business of sabotaging Tobe and Paul’s aspirations for television greatness, they had to find the kids.

Daphne slammed the door behind her. Eddie grabbed Jessica’s wrist.

He said, “Come on, there are a couple of places we still haven’t checked.”

Daphne scurried up the stairs, ignoring everyone as they tinkered with equipment in the hallway, crying out for Jason and Alice. She ran to their room, throwing the door open with so much force that it smacked into the wall, the knob putting a sizeable dent in the plaster. Their beds were still made, books and puzzles still in the cardboard boxes where they kept them.

She checked her bedroom and the bathroom. There was no sign of them.

Tobe intercepted her before she could head downstairs. He held her arms in a tight grip. He looked pale, paler than usual. Dark circles were beginning to bloom under his eyes. Neither of them had slept much last night.

“Why are you running around like a dog searching for a ball?” he asked.

“We can’t find Alice and Jason,” she said, her breath hitching as she said their names, the burn of burgeoning tears stinging her eyes.

He held her fast as she tried to walk around him. “I think you’re overreacting, Daphne. Just a bit. It’s a small island but there are plenty of places for them to hide. They have to be somewhere. I need you to calm down. We were just about to start filming. If you came barging in here two minutes later, you would have ruined the shot.”

She stared at him, into him, with utter disbelief. Their children were missing and all he cared about was having their filming interrupted.

“How dare you,” she hissed.

“Someone has to keep a cool head. If you just calm down, I guarantee you they’ll show up. We’re on an island. There’s no one here to harm them. You’re losing sight of why we’re here in the first place. You need to snap out of it.”

Daphne jerked back, releasing herself from his grasp. The others cast their eyes elsewhere when she turned to face them, embarrassed to be witness to the domestic dispute.

“Will you help me look for them, Paul?”

Her brother stroked his beard, looked to Nina and Mitch before answering. “Sure, sis. Just give me fifteen minutes. I’m sure they’ll come running back here, hungry, before then. I just need to finish up here.”

To hell with you both! she thought as she brushed past her husband.

Paul watched his sister storm down the stairs, ripples of anger left in her wake. And now he was worried too. A part of him felt that Tobe was right. The kids were safe and sound, probably hiding from one another and everyone else in the process.

But it wasn’t like Jason and Alice to disappear like that, not so long as to make the unflappable Daphne unraveled.

“Hey, maybe I should help Daphne look for the kids. It should only take a few minutes,” he said.

Mitch sighed, ducking his eyes behind his camera when Paul turned to face him.

“That’s a good idea,” Rusty said. “I remember all the times my boys happened to lose themselves, especially during soccer games, when they were young. I swear it’s the reason I lost my hair.”

“Thanks.”

Paul headed for the stairs. His chest collided with Tobe’s unyielding hand.

“You can look for them after,” his brother-in-law said.

Paul pulled him aside. “They’re your kids, man. You should be helping too. This can wait a few minutes.”

“Actually,” Mitch interjected, “we’re losing the natural light. We should get this in the can before it’s too dark.”