Rachel and you pack quickly and head down for breakfast. As you wait for the elevator, you run into Rachel’s friends, Marina and Krista. Both were wearing cover-ups over bathing suits and sandals. Each carries a beach bag and towel.
As you step into the elevator, Krista notices the suitcases and asks, “Why are you guys packed? We’re booked for another 10 days!”
“We’re leaving, NOW,” Rachel says in an abrupt tone, “and I wish you’d come with us. There are some really bizarre things going on around here. It’s really not safe.”
“Oh, come on,” Marina responded, “There’s nothing wrong with this place. I don’t get that much time off, and I’m not wasting the money I spent on this holiday.”
“Well,” Rachel replied, “promise my you’ll say away from the forest, okay. It’s really dangerous there. If you don’t believe me, ask Anarosa’s friend, Felicia.”
Krista and Marina gave Rachel a quizzical look at the last comment, but they didn’t have time respond as the elevator opened at the lobby. “Stay on the beach, okay guys. Just stay on the beach,” Rachel cautions the pair as they head out of the hotel.
After breakfast, you talk to Harry for a few minutes and try to warn him as well.
“Harry,” you say, “please don’t look for Dick anymore. There’s nothing we can do for him.”
Harry gives you the same look that Marina and Krista gave Rachel. “Who?” he asks.
“Your cousin, Dick,” you begin to argue, “you know, the one we were sharing the room with.”
“Hey, Ben,” Harry responds, “I don’t know what you’re on, but I don’t have any cousins and there was no one in the room but you and me.”
You shake your head in frustration. Rachel is having a conversation with Felicia as you wait by the door.
“This is weird,” Rachel says as she joins you. “She doesn’t remember Anarosa at all. They were best friends and roommates back home.”
“That’s nothing,” you say, “Harry doesn’t remember Dick, and they grew up together.”
“They’ve been almost entirely erased,” Rachel responds. “But why can we remember them?”
“Maybe because we saw them, after they were, you know, changed.”
“I wish I could forget them and all of those damned satyrs,” Rachel replies
You put your arm around Rachel and hug her gently as she begins to cry again.
“We’ll get out of here,” you tell her. “You’ll never have to worry about them again.”
Rachel hugs you back and smiles at you through her reddened, tear stained eyes.
After checking out, you ask about a ride back to the ferry and are directed to the stand in front of the hotel.
The sun is up and you are enjoying the view, thankful that no one tried to dissuade you from checking out early. Your attention is drawn to a familiar sound approaching from the distance. It’s the clomping of hooves against the pavement in a four beat, walking gait. You and Rachel look as one to watch the horse drawn carriage approach. You pull your eyes from the majestic animal to look at Rachel. Her gaze is wistful as she studies the horse’s movement carefully and bites her lower lip.
“Ride to the ferry?” the driver asks, breaking Rachel’s concentration on the horse and yours on her.
“Uhh, yes,” you stammer as you climb into the carriage.
“Hupp,” the driver calls before you’ve managed to get seated and the animal takes off. The momentum pushes you backward and into Rachel’s lap. You push off of her quickly, trying not to touch her in manner that could be interpreted as in any way inappropriate and fall into your seat.
“Sorry,” you mutter in apology. Rachel smiles at you. It’s clear that she didn’t take offense. She kisses you gently on the cheek, and your heart melts.
As the driver makes a clicking sound and snaps the reigns, the horse speeds up to a trot and then a canter. You lose yourself in the rhythm as the beat of its hooves goes from four beats to two and then to three.
“Do you have anything to write on?” Rachel asks after a few minutes. You reach into your pocket, the only thing you have is the receipt from the hotel. You hand it to her without hesitation. She looks off in the distance, deep in thought for a few minutes then begins to write.
As she finishes, you ask what she was up to.
“Here,” she says as she hands you a piece of paper. “It’s the best I could do, but I don’t want to forget them.”
You study her notes. Across the top, it reads, “Pleasure Island Holiday Companions” along with the date you arrived and the date you were scheduled to leave.
Beneath that is a short sentence, “Devotion Helps Keep Memories of Friends.” It’s followed by the names of your remaining traveling companions.
“What’s this mean?” you ask.
“I though they’d be harder to erase if their names stood for something in this sentence. Devotion stands for Deirdre. Helps stands for Harry. Keep stands for Krista. Memories stands for Marina, and Friends stands for Felicia.”
You nod at her clever idea.
Waiting for the ferry, you study the timetable with some consternation. There are easily a third less boats back to the mainland each day compared to those coming in. ‘Could that many people be lost to the island?’ you wonder. Scanning the waiting area, it’s nearly empty as well. An announcement to board is made, and you approach the agent at the gate.
“Slow this morning,” you say as you hand her the ticket.
“No, it’s pretty much always like this,” she says before handing you and Rachel your stubs.
Settling into a seat next to Rachel, you take stock of you fellow passengers. Their expressions range from trepidation to abject fear. No one is smiling. Everyone is anxious. The trip is uneventful and, neither you nor Rachel says much until the ferry docks. As the engines wind down, Rachel hugs you tightly. “We made it,” she says with a smile.
You walk together to the customs agent.
“Anything to declare,” he asks.
“No,” you respond.
“Passports please,” he says without looking up.
You find yours in your pocket, but Rachel is fishing through her purse for hers.
“What’s the matter?” you ask.
“I can’t find my ….” Her eyes swim with fear as she looks up at you. “Ben, I can’t go back"
“It’s okay,” you say assure her. “When did you have it last?”
“When we got to the island,” she says growing more and more frantic. “I left it in this pocket,” she says showing you a small zippered compartment within her handbag, "but it’s empty now." She's right.
In frustration, Rachel dumps the contents of her purse onto the counter and begins to sift through her belongings. You pick up the bag and peer inside. You zip the compartment that held the passport closed and continue your search.
“Ma’am,” the agent says, “If you don’t have identitif …”
“I have it!” Rachel snaps. “Just hold on minute.”
You open the zippered compartment one more time and find Rachel’s passport nestled inside.
“Got it,” you say.
Rachel is elated and hugs you again. She smiles and hand the passport to the agent.
You help her return her belongings to her purse when you see the receipt from the hotel. It looks different. You’re sure that something that was there before is absent now.
“Uhhh, Rach..” you say handing her the note.