“How’s everything on the mainland?”
Across the middle seat on the way back to the Belle Estate, Sam swapped glances with Colby. Over the years, they’d perfected this silent communication of who should answer people’s questions first. Probably a lot like twins did.
He was about to reply when Trey added, “Sometimes I miss it.”
Sam looked knowingly at Colby.
“It’s great, man. You’re missing a lot of dope stuff,” Colby replied. “You can drive anywhere, see anyone, have parties, hang out with friends. Not that Hawaii doesn’t have its pros and cons, too. Just saying.”
“True,” Sam said. “I think of Hawaii more as a vacation destination than a place to live.” He was hoping to give Trey some perspective and gauge his responses, not trying to change his mind about where he wanted to live or anything.
“Well, I’m not sure about that. For me, Hawaii has everything any person would ever want,” Trey said convincingly. “But I do miss my family back in Utah.”
“You must be missing friends, for sure,” Sam said, then cautiously added, “your twenties is a time you’ll never get back.”
Trey seemed to grip the steering wheel a little more tightly, keeping his gaze firmly on the road. They were silent for a while, and Sam began to wonder if he’d pissed him off. “I don’t have that many friends back home, if I’m being honest. That’s why living here hasn’t been as hard for me as you might think. I think about my ex-girlfriend sometimes, though. I hope she’s doing okay.”
“You told me about her once. Why don’t you reach out?” Colby asked. “To your family and your ex?”
“I check on my parents every so often. Tamela? Nah, she doesn’t want to hear from me.” Trey pressed a button, and ukulele music came on, drowning them out.
“Hey, you never know. She might be wondering how you’re doing,” Colby spoke over the music.
Sam got the sense that Trey had thought about calling his ex many times but decided it was for the best if he kept his distance. Maybe he thought that ship had sailed without a chance of ever returning home. “You know you can change your situation, right?” Sam added a little more, as Colby nodded. “At any time.”
“What do you mean?” Trey’s eyes flitted in the rearview mirror.
“What I mean is, if you’re not happy…” Sam tossed the idea out there. Just in case he needed to hear it from someone else. “It’s not like you’re stuck here. You can leave at any time.” The more he spoke, the more Sam wondered if his words were even true. Trey couldn’t have been trapped here against his will, could he? He was free to drive, free to leave the house…
“I’m perfectly happy,” Trey assured them, cutting the personal talk short, as though he’d said too much. “Not sure why you fellows seem to think I’m not.”
“We don’t think that.” Sam tried to keep the exaggeration out of his voice.
“Not at all,” Colby added.
“Of course you’re totally happy,” Alex scoffed while staring out the window. “Who wouldn’t be?”
Sam stared at Alex, perplexed. Was he not picking up the underlining tone of their message to Trey? They weren’t encouraging the guy’s odd lifestyle—they were strongly suggesting his relationship with Georgia needed reconsideration. If Sam didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Alex was becoming another Trey.
They arrived at the estate, where Georgia ran into the driveway barefoot with turquoise painted toenails, wearing another boho-style maxi dress, this one all white with turquoise crocheted trim. Her accessories matched her weird but stunning eyes. She wore a string of colored seed pods around her neck and a stack of bracelets that gave her a drifter vibe.
“You’re back!” she cried, hopping over the fountain drain, up to Sam, Colby, and Alex, giving them each a warm hug. Sam was getting used to her friendliness and wished he could tell all the locals that they had it wrong about her, but her hug lasted a couple seconds too long.
“Heyyy…” Sam said, gently pushing Trey’s womanfriend off him.
“Come on in, I’m making shrimp étouffée!” She ran up the front porch steps and pulled on the door handle to let them in.
Sam had to give her credit. Georgia knew how to welcome guests into the house. It was no wonder US presidents had visited her. Lit candles everywhere, of course, this time giving off a slightly burnt hay weedy smell, and the ukulele music was on again at full volume, like they were hosting a full-out luau with a hundred guests or more.
“Let’s retrace our steps,” he said, standing in the foyer, not knowing where to even begin. There were so many objects on every wall, in every corner, finding their missing devices might be a little like finding Waldo. “Let’s start with the rooms upstairs, then the kitchen, then the lagoon out back.”
“Got it,” they agreed.
“Would you boys like a glass of wine? Or beer?” Georgia stuck her head out of the kitchen. “I have thirty different kinds. You know me.” She giggled.
“Uh, no, thank you.” Considering he’d nearly blacked out yesterday after drinking one of her beers, he’d do well to keep away. Colby declined her offer as well, but Alex had to go and accept. Sam sighed.
“Sure, I’ll take one,” as though they were here for a dinner party.
“Dude,” Sam whispered. “Remember the plan. We look for your phone and the iPad. If nothing turns up, we leave ASAP.”
“Hey, I know the plan,” Alex retorted in a weirdly rebellious way. “Doesn’t mean I can’t have a beer while looking.” He shrugged and began searching every corner of the foyer. “Can we go upstairs?” he asked aloud.
“Of course, my good man,” Trey said, leaning against the fireplace. “Take your time.”
Sam still felt put off by the tone in Alex’s response. He imagined it couldn’t be easy having to deal with him and Colby calling the shots all the time. Maybe they should make space for Alex’s wishes sometimes, so he wouldn’t feel resentful.
He let Alex lead the way upstairs, past the Georgia-Clint-Amethyst photos in the hallway, past a peculiar lamp Sam hadn’t seen before. He swore, he could walk through an area of the house a hundred different times and find a hundred unique new artifacts each time. That was the thing about Belle Estate. The lamp was a work of art, made of bendy driftwood, twisted around a center pole and tucked into a shallow balcony overlooking the center atrium of the house. It reminded Sam of the tree Colby had been staring at on the beach.
They checked the rooms, bathrooms, beds, even under the beds, and shelves where Alex had said he and Nate found items related to Ryder Camp, ley lines, and Trey’s old memories in a box. The phone was nowhere. Neither was the iPad. Had they lost them at the beach? No way could they go there this late.
“Let’s check the kitchen, then the lagoon,” Colby suggested.
They headed back toward the stairs. Right as they reached the end of the hallway, though, Sam felt an unsettling sensation overcome him, like the air itself were weighing down, pressing him into the floors, making it hard for him to take steps. His vision turned dark at the corners, like it had last time he got tunnel vision in the house, and he held onto the wall for support.
“Shit…”
Colby, already making his way down the steps after Alex, heard him and rushed back up, but all Sam could focus on was a shadowy form taking shape behind Colby. “Brother, you okay?”
Sam stared at the dark mass looming over Colby’s head. “Do you see it?”
“See what?”
“Colby, right there…” Sam pointed and blinked in order to clear his vision, and when he did, the shape successfully dissipated. Unfortunately, his hand slipped from the edge of the wall into the open balcony space, and he had to jut out a hand and grab onto the bendy driftwood lamp to keep from losing his balance. A surge of power seemed to flow through his hands into his body, but it wasn’t from the electricity. It was something else entirely.
“Bro, here…” Colby stretched out his arm for Sam to grab. “You’re scaring me.”
Sam let go of the lamp and stared at his hands. “It was there. I swear it was there.” Sam looked up, pointed to the heights of the stairwell, feeling the inexplicable lack of energy again, like the atmosphere itself was trying to wear him down. He bent over to catch his breath.
“Dude, this house gives me the fucking creeps,” Colby said, helping Sam out of the balcony toward the stairs again. “That’s why I didn’t want to come back.”
“But that’s why we had to,” Sam muttered, out of breath. “If it’d been you who got left behind here, I’d come back for you. Negative energy, or not.”
“But it wasn’t me. It’s Trey, and Trey loves it here. You heard him.”
“Maybe he has to say that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe he’s forced to, like he has no choice.”
“Of course he has a choice, Sam. We were alone in the car with him. You heard him. Look, let’s just finish looking for Alex’s damn phone and the iPad and get the fuck out of here already. We tried. It didn’t work.”
“Agreed.”
Downstairs, they caught up with Alex entering the dining room, drink in hand, casually strolling the house like he was at a London museum. “Where were you guys?”
“Upstairs, searching one more room.” Sam’s eyes darted around to make sure the dark shape wasn’t following them. Too bad they weren’t filming a video. The shadow would’ve made for some creepy-ass footage that fans would’ve gone crazy for, but as luck had it, the really weird stuff always happened off camera.
He slid his fingers along the stacks of scripts on the table, more to ground himself and touch solid, real items than anything else. As he did, Trey began collecting the remaining stacks and putting them away inside the dining hutch. “I’m sorry you couldn’t find your devices, but we’d be happy to mail them back if they turn up. Do you boys like your dinner rolls toasted or untoasted?”
“Huh?” Sam stared at him. How many times did they have to refuse their kind offers? “Trey, we’re not staying.”
Colby pulled Sam aside. “See what I mean? That’s not normal. Normal people don’t ignore when you say you can’t stay for dinner. Ugh, and you know what’s going to suck?” He let go of Sam, continuing his search along the counter connecting the dining room with the kitchen. “Is Nate having to rewrite all his work for the class he’s taking. Hopefully he saved it on a cloud.”
“Bro, don’t even say ‘cloud’ right now.” Sam watched as Colby picked up a script and began flipping through it, but suddenly, Trey snuck up behind him and snatched the stack of paper out of his hands.
“Those…aren’t ready to be read yet. Apologies.”
From the kitchen, Georgia watched closely, spoon in hand, silently communicating with Trey. Even through his anxiety over the energies in the house, or maybe because of them, Sam could tell that something unspoken was happening between them.
“That’s enough in this room,” Trey announced, whisking them away. “Did you want to check the lagoon?”
Sam wasn’t sure he wanted to venture farther into the property. He seemed to remember both Nate and Alex having their devices after the swim, so there’d be no point. “Actually, I think it’s time for us to leave. We have a…thing to get to. Right, guys?”
Colby nodded fervently. “Yeah, a thing, back in Koloa. A dinner thing with the volleyball team. Thanks for bringing us back to check your house. It was beautiful, as always.”
“Trey, maybe you want to come with us?” Colby raised his eyebrows, emitting a brotherly message. “A guy’s night out? To the dinner thing? I’m sure Georgia wouldn’t mind, right?”
Out of this house? Out of Kauai? Just say the word, and we’ll save you.
Sam tried getting Colby’s attention to tell him his idea wasn’t going to work, not with Georgia a few feet away, listening in, giving Trey the evil girlfriend eye. Right on cue, Georgia replied for Trey, “And ignore the delicious dinner I’m making for my Clint—I mean, Trey? Don’t be silly.” She laughed. “You may as well lure him off to mainland fast food. Trey loves my shrimp étouffée, don’t you, baby?”
“Best shrimp I’ve ever had, sweet thing. Better than N’awlins,” he replied, pulling the minivan keys from his pocket. “Well, then, we best get going. Save me a plate for when I return.”
“Oh, that is too bad. I was so looking forward to getting compliments on my cooking. I’ll keep it warm for you, honey.” She gave Trey a seductive look that soured Sam’s stomach.
He waved at Georgia for the last time. “Thanks again for having us. Sorry we interrupted your dinner plans.”
“I’m only sorry you didn’t get to stay longer.” She pouted, chewed on her bottom lip a bit before sipping her glass of wine. There was an edge to her voice, the sweetness having leaked out of it.
Sam got the hell out of there. Without looking into dark corners, either. If he never saw that shadow shape again, it’d be too soon. He blasted past the candles so fast, his displaced air made them flicker madly, nearly blowing them out.
Colby followed, but Alex lingered in the foyer, saying a long goodbye to Georgia, who’d followed them out. He was being his usual, polite self, except leveled up, because he loved the Belle Estate so goddamned much, he couldn’t stop singing its praises.
“Alex,” Sam said as nicely as he could. He didn’t want Alex to think back on his vacation and remember how militantly bossy Sam had been.
Alex gave Georgia a hug. “Gotta go. I do hope to visit you again one day. This is an absolutely amazing home you have.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will, honey. Belle Estate always lures people back. Just ask Obama.” She smiled that bright, big smile of hers and waved, her flowing sleeves undulating as she did.
What the hell did she mean by that?
From the moment they slipped back inside the van, Sam prayed that the vehicle would start without issues. And when it did, he practically gave Trey orders on where to turn and how fast to drive. The excuse was that they had to arrive in time to dinner in Koloa, but the truth was, Sam couldn’t take another moment with his robotic ass.
“We can’t go past this point.” Trey pulled onto the side of the road near the convoy spot. “We have to wait for the rest of the cars.”
“I think we’re the only car in the convoy tonight, brother,” Sam replied, looking out at the roads and seeing no one else. It was getting dark fast. “So, let’s just go.”
Trey shrugged and pulled onto the highway. “Suit yourself.”
Colby leaned forward in the back seat. “Don’t forget, if you find Nate’s iPad or Alex’s phone, please pack it nicely in a box and ship it off as soon as you have a chance.”
“Will do, though I’m sure Nate will come back for it himself,” Trey said.
“What? No, man, you don’t understand,” Sam said. “Nate already left on his flight this afternoon. He won’t be coming back. That’s literally the whole reason why we came to look for his tablet ourselves.”
“They always come back.” Trey stared stoically into the distance, his knuckles white, as he gripped the steering wheel. “And you will, too.”
What…the actual fuck was this guy talking about?
Nobody spoke. Not about the island, how perfect life was, not about life back in L.A., nothing. No ukulele music played either. All semblance of hospitality, completely dead. Even Alex wasn’t defending Trey. Sam’s chest pounded, as the tires rolled along the highway. They just better get to Hanalei in one piece, because Trey was acting stranger and stranger with every passing second. He could almost hear a bomb ticking inside the dude’s head.
Suddenly, Sam felt the car slowing, the tires grinding loudly on the asphalt. Or was that the engine? Trey pulled over onto the side of the road, but Sam couldn’t see any workers or barricades, the usual reason for having to slow down.
“What’s going on?” He leaned forward between the front seats.
“Don’t you hear that sound?” Trey spat. He put the car in park and stepped out, slamming the door with a jerk.
“What the…” Sam opened the side door and hopped out. As the sun slowly descended, he could see they were the only car on the road for miles and miles. “Did we bust a tire? Is it the engine?”
Trey pulled out his phone and pressed it to his ear. “I think the transmission is blown. I’m calling a tow truck.”
“Great.” Colby hopped out of the van, paced the gravel edge of the road, then kicked the back right tire, muttering under his breath.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Trey glared at him.
“Yeah? What if I feel like it?” Colby grunted. Sam could sense a Colby emo-ruption coming on. He knew the last twenty-four hours had affected them deeply, but if they were going to get home safely, they’d have to keep calm and stick together.
“Colby, it’s cool,” Sam said quietly. “Let’s just see what happens.”
As Trey talked to a service center rep on the phone, Sam prayed there’d be a solution tonight. With the convoy window to end in a few minutes, however, and not a single soul traveling on this beaten road, he doubted they’d get to Hanalei, but he wasn’t ready to admit it.
Trey tapped off his phone and sighed. “They could dispatch a tow truck, but it’ll likely take two to three hours,” he explained. “We can wait, or we can walk two miles back to the house. It’ll take thirty minutes.”
Colby chewed on his nails. “What about walking to Hanalei?” he asked, but Sam knew it was too far.
“You want to walk thirty-some-odd miles?” Trey reached into the car and took the keys from the ignition. “Be my guest. I’m walking back before it turns pitch black out here. New moon,” Trey mumbled. “Rest of you coming?”
Sam threw his head back. “Fucking great.”
Trey gave him a dirty look. “It is fucking great. That’s what you don’t get. We wouldn’t be in this position if you truly saw how fortunate you are to be invited to stay at our estate.”
“Our estate?” Colby scoffed. “Bro, it’s her estate. You’re just—”
“Colby,” Sam kept his voice low and calm. “Don’t.”
Colby sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Just by reading Sam’s face, he seemed to understand that getting on Trey’s shit side was not a good idea. Especially if they had no choice but to return to the Belle Estate tonight, where shadows loomed, and creepy art stared at you from every corner of the mansion. Images of Trey wielding an axe like Nate imitating Jack from The Shining riddled Sam’s mind, as they trudged back the two miles.
What would happen now?
Would they be forced to drink Georgia’s cocktails and eat her shrimp étouffée? Would they have to participate in her uber-regimented activities from the schedule on the side of the fridge? If so, what time was “Lose your shit,” or “Punch Trey in the dick?” Because that was how Sam felt right now.
Colby was right—the mansion would never be Trey’s home. Not with Georgia running the show, calling him “Clint” every two seconds. But the guy had zero clue he was being used and apparently didn’t care. No, the Belle Estate was all about Georgia Belle Rollins and nobody else.
And when they finally reached the iron gate out of breath, trudging up the driveway to find the old lady herself dancing on the porch, laughing and raising her wine glass to the moonless sky, as though she just knew they’d be back any moment, Sam spotted the dark shadow lingering behind her and finally understood what it was like to be Trey—caught, trapped, and screwed.