Recluse Island

Chapter 31

December 2013

It was a night like this that Alvira Essex found her husband dead. Like then it had been eerily calm, not even a whisper of wind outside, a slow day in the restaurant serving the good people of Stormy Shore that had ended with an uneventful evening spent reading one of Gustavo Landrosh's earliest novels entitled Captain Ashley's Revenge.

Now as Alvira climbed into bed and lay in the dark alone save for her twelve-year-old orange cat Truman who had quickly made himself comfortable stretching out across the top of her pillow she began to reflect on that evening and once again wondered. How had Frank died? For a heart attack which is the cause she was given didn't add up to her. Frank had been the picture of health. He didn't smoke, rarely drank and was an easy-going fella. How did someone like that who ate good, exercised, and laughed often die of a heart attack?

The year was 1997, at the time Frank had operated Babble Bell Tower, the lighthouse near the Toritano Cliffs that was used to warn of impending storms. For many years, Frank had been the only one in charge of the tower, a job that kept him away from home often.

After his death Alvira would learn, Frank had been trying to get someone hired to work the night shift. But Rafanoli had repeatedly turned down his requests, insisting the light house had always been a one-man operation and if Frank couldn't keep up with the work, then they would find someone who could. Naturally, Frank wasn't going to quit, he loved his job though all the stairs he had to climb to the top of the tower were beginning to wear on his knees. He just wished he had more time at home especially since he was getting older, nearing sixty now and Alvira had never been one to keep quiet voicing her opinion. She suspected it was her complaints that finally prompted Frank to request a night shift operator.

It had been a clear night, so Alvira hadn't expected any trouble. On nights when it was windy with the smell of rain in the air and dark clouds overhead, she knew Frank would be gone for a while. But that night the skies were dotted with stars, the moon full overhead with no signs of any misbehaving weather. But Mother Nature is fickle as Alvira knew only too well so one must always be prepared for the unexpected. She had changed into her blue cotton nightgown, brushed her teeth, and gave her hair forty strokes before climbing under the cool sheets.

Then just after midnight a frantic pounding entered her befuddled brain causing her to jerk upright in bed. She immediately determined the sound was coming from the back door. Jumping out of bed she hurried down the rickety old stairs. Frank and Alvira lived above the Fifth Dumpling, the only dining establishment in Stormy Shore which the Essex's family had owned and operated since 1922. In 1992 Frank took over operating Babble Bell Tower allowing Alvira to leave Stupendous Shore Sweets where she had worked as a harvester for many years and instead assumed Frank's duties running the restaurant.

When she reached the back-door panting, she took a moment to gather her composure then she slowly opened the door with a slight crack. In front of her stood four African American men and one white man. They were dressed oddly, strangely that was the first thing Alvira took notice of. Each boy wore black cotton shorts and a purple sash across their bare chests. All the men were bald and barefoot.

"Are you Mrs. Essex?"

One of the men asked, their leader, Alvira supposed, though now she was questioning how sane it was to have opened the door to them, even if it was just a crack. After all they could easily overpower her, push inside and then...who knows what? Rob her? Trash the building? Kill her? They certainly weren't from town. Which meant they belonged to the Weimeiji but because of the Treaty of 1888 they were not allowed to cross the Salamander Line. So, what were they doing here now? What was so important they would break the law? And why had they come to her?