✯ North Star ✯

6 - The Ghost On The Island

"Just uh just right in the next room," Chandler said, sweeping his arm toward a pair of tall doors.

We follow him in — me staying at the back like always — and he turns to us with a stiff smile.
"I'll let Wes know you're here."

He pushes open another set of doors.
"Wes they've come," he announces, stepping inside.

"Oh good good. Bring them in. Come in please, please warm yourself by the fire. Good to see you," Wes Genrette says.

His voice was warm in that old money southern way, but something about this all still felt off, a low, wordless unease sitting cold under my ribs despite the fire crackling just a few feet away.

We file in. The room feels too cold for how big the fire is.

"I.. I apologize for dragging you all the way out here. But I, I don't think I could speak about this in public. I know I mentioned Blackbeard. But I assure you all, my interest is not for treasure. My ancestor, Francis Genrette, was the British officer who caught and killed the notorious pirate."

"Wait you're a direct ancestor?" Pope asks.

Wes nods.
"Yes unfortunately. After he'd beheaded Blackbeard, he killed the pirate's wife, Elizabeth. And since then, for 300 years generations of Genrettes have been haunted by Elizabeth's ghost, and have died violent deaths, including my daughter."

My eyes drift to the giant portrait above the fireplace. A young woman. Too familiar. Something about her face made my stomach knot, an unnamed dread pulling tight and cold through my chest.

"Larissa, was Chandler's wife. My daughter — Larissa saw Elizabeth a week before she died. Now, I've had a visitation. So I know I don't have much time."

I glance at John B, my throat tightening.

"Right uh, so we're really sorry that that happened to you, but what do you want from us?" John B asks carefully.

"Of course you're right. Let's get down to business. Chandler." Wes nods at Chandler.

"We believe that we've found a way to break the curse on this family. Right before she was murdered, Elizabeth begged Francis to retrieve from her husband's ship a keepsake that he'd given her. Her most prized possession. An amulet," Chandler explains.

"He denied the request and then murdered her. But if we find that amulet, fulfilling Elizabeth's last request, I believe it will break the curse that has haunted my family for over 300 years."

"Okay, uh...I'm sorry where did you say that the necklace thingy is?" Kie asks.

"Oh Blackbeard's last ship. The Adventure."

"Perfect," Kie mutters, and I catch the flat disbelief threading through the single word.

"According to all records the amulet was still on it when it was scuttled right off Goat Island."

"Right yeah but the coast guard excavated that site years ago," Pope says.

"The excavation team didn't know what we know. They didn't have this," Wes said, handing Pope a leather bound book.

"There's a secret lock box hidden behind the headboard in the captain's chamber. Do you dive?"

"We dive. All.. all of us do," JJ says proudly.

"Um— no. I'm the only legal one who can actually do it, but...sure," I cut in.

"But uh we only do it if the price is right," JJ adds.

"Excellent. We are prepared to offer you a premium for your services. Fifty thousand, plus expenses. Five thousand up front. And we would very much like your immediate answer," Wes smiles, and something in the eagerness of it makes my skin crawl.

"Well I think we kind of—" JJ started, but John B slaps a hand over his mouth.

"Uh well just need to think it through," Pope says quickly.

"We'll be right back. Only take a second, one sec," John B says, ushering us into another room.

"Okay, um— guys. What the hell was that?" I whisper once the door closed, my pulse still not quite settled.

"We have to think," Cleo agrees.

"This is weird. We could just slip out through the back," Kie suggests.

"Are we really going to listen to the guy who should be in a white padded room? Visitations? Curses?" John B asks.

"He's a madman," Cleo mutters.

"His story is obviously bullshit, but the money.... He needs serious help, but the moneyyyyy," I drag it out, because yes, it matters. We're literally broke, and the weight of that fact presses hard against every ounce of unease I'm feeling.

"He needs therapy not a necklace thingy," Kie adds.

"Obviously this guy is nutty. We don't even know if anything he's saying is true," Pope says.

"We cannot ignore the fact that there is a ghost and a curse. Y'all aren't getting weird ass vibe?" Kie says.

"Okay, guys let's just say we take this job. Is it even possible?" Cleo asks.

"Yes," JJ says immediately.

Cleo rolls her eyes.
"I knew what you would say. Everybody else?" She said

"That shipwreck is probably 80 to 100 feet down. The currents are probably ripping."

"Okay, guys, are we really gonna worry about the details right now?" JJ asks.

"Yes," we all say.

"That's 100%," Pope adds.

"Guys in our time of need are we gonna turn down free money? No. That's not like us."

"It's not free!" Kie snaps.

"The worst that can happen is we walk out of here with five G's in our pocket. End of discussion."

"That's actually not the worst, but okay..." I mumble, unease still sitting heavy and unresolved in my chest.

"We can go to jail, get arrested—" Cleo starts, but JJ is already walking out.

"Sir, we've come to our conclusion, and we'll do it. We'll take the job. Now that initial 5K, is that right there?" JJ says proudly.

"You can go ahead, fork that over to me," JJ said, reaching for the money.

"Welcome aboard," Chandler smiled, handing it to him.

"Well you know what? Actually, I think I'll take this for safekeeping. Huh you know?" Pope says, snatching it from JJ's hand.

"Alright sure," JJ mutters.

"Thank you."

"You won't regret this sir. I promise you. We'll get the job done," JJ said, shaking Chandler's hand.

"Hey JJ, I believe in you," Chandler said.

JJ beams.

I do not. Something is off, that same cold, wordless dread still sitting low in my chest, refusing to be shaken loose by the warmth of the fire or the money in Pope's hand.

"Thank you," JJ nodded.

We turn to leave, but I pause at the portrait one more time. My eyes linger on the woman.

Chandler's voice cuts through my thoughts.
"I trust you'll get it done."

I give a small nod. A polite smile. Then I turn away before he can see how much that painting rattled me, the image of her staring eyes still following me long after we step back out into the gray afternoon light.