Long Live the King

Twenty-Seven

 The owner of the boat seemed a little surprised to see them return with two additional passengers, but he refrained from commenting and only cared to check that the boat was still in good condition. Johanna kept her head ducked down and she and her daughter were whisked inside the hotel and upstairs to the room where there was promise of dry clothes and something to eat that hadn't been dehydrated.

"Here," Adrienne said, tossing a pair of pants and a tshirt at Johanna. "They'll probably fit well enough. I'm afraid I don't have anything in Emerald's size but the lobby shop has some tourist shirts and I think some sweatpants even. There's probably something in her size. Marshall and I could run down and take a look?"

"Thank you. That would be great."

"Okay." Adrienne nodded. "You can help yourself to any food in here. We'll be right back."

After he had changed into something dry, she and Marshall left the room and headed down to the lobby shop to pick through the clothes in search of something child sized. As she flipped through a stack of neon pink shirts with "MELLOWISLES!" splashed across the front in varying colors, she started to laugh. Marshall glanced up at her.

"It's nothing," she said to his confused expression. "I was just thinking about all the trouble I drag you into. I bet stuff like this never happens to the good ol' small town Wills family."

"Trust me," he said. "You're worth every bit of trouble. Life is short, at least yours isn't boring."

"I wouldn't mind a little boring." She smiled.

"Yeah? Well, maybe sometime you and I could visit... hey, look." He pointed up at the television on the wall. The anchorwoman had her hands folded on the newsdesk while she spoke in a clipped tone. A square image beside her depicted some stock image flames. Below her, the bolded text read Island fire kills two.

"...was reported early this morning from one of the neighboring isles," she said. "Responders were able to stop the spread of the blaze but the house sustained significant damage. Two bodies have been recovered from the home and there has been some speculation that one of them might have been the infamous Johanna Jensen. Although initially thought to be an accident, current information suggests that this tragic incident may have been arson. More details to come as this story unfolds."

"Shit," she said.

"We should go tell..." He nodded toward the upstairs.

"Right." She quickly finished flipping through one stack of shirts and moved to the next one until she found the size she was looking for, then she helped Marshall find a pair of pants. The blinding pink and orange weren't a match made in heaven, but at least they would fit. They paid for the clothes and headed back upstairs. Emerald was already sleeping in one beds.

"I gave her one of your shirts. I hope that's okay. Did you see the news?" Johanna asked, nodding at the tv which was now displaying a story about a stray kitten who had survived against all odds and was seeking a home.

"Was going to ask you the same thing," Adrienne said. "How did they even figure out that you were living out there?"

"Probably things that they recovered from the house. Pictures or whatever." She laughed. "I wish it was that simple. To start over, you know? Just have everyone think that I died while I blend into society as somebody new. It can't be done though. They'll identify the bodies. But even if they couldn't, the people know my face. The minute I walk out of here into anything resembling normalcy they'll know I'm alive and even though they don't know what I did... they still know who I am. You don't just disappear and come back without being a news story."

"I'm sorry," Adrienne said.

"Don't be." Johanna sat down on the bed, let her head hang. "It's not your fault. You were supposed to come out to the island. She just wasn't supposed to come too. Of course, I probably shouldn't blame her either. I started this. It just all seemed like a good idea at the time. Don't worry about this. I'll figure something out, just as I did before. Thank you, for... the rescue. I really didn't deserve it after the rude welcome I gave the two of you."

"If there's anything we can do to help..."

"I think right now I'd really just like to sleep. If that's okay. I know it's a little early but it's been a hell of a day."

"Okay." Adrienne nodded. "Yeah, that's fine. We should all probably take some rest whether it's sleep or just general recharging and then we can--we can help you figure this out. You were a friend to my brother and... I want to help however I can."

#

"Marshall," Adrienne said the next morning, just loud enough to rouse him. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and searched the room for her. She was standing beside what had been her bed, the one that Johanna and her daughter had slept in the previous night. She was holding a small slip of paper.

"Where--where is Johanna?" He asked through a yawn.

"Gone," she said, holding out the note.

Standing up, he took the paper from her and read over the neatly written scrawl twice. For the money. No hoops to jump through, I promise. They might ask for ID. Below this was a hastily written phone number.

"At least she left you this," he said.

"I can't believe she just left," Adrienne said though, looking deflated. "I could've helped her. I wanted to."

"That's probably why she left. Helping her isn't your job and she didn't want you putting your life aside to help her out. And you know what, I didn't know her long but I have a feeling she's more than capable of taking care of herself. A little like you."

"What about that little girl? What kind of life is she going to have when her mother is always hiding from everyone?"

"I don't know but I want to believe that she's going to be fine. Hey, don't look so down. You've done everything you could." He came around the bed and she stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around his solid form. He lifted a hand to her hair. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"Absolutely," she murmured.