Little Hidden Darknesses

My head properly throbbed when I woke up the next morning. On the ground. By the foot of my bed. My eyelids felt heavy and I struggled to pry them open. The ceiling blurred overhead, but I blinked and it clarified. First the ceiling fan, then the water stains. I counted them.

Two. Four. Seven.

Shit. What had happened last night?

I sat up, both my hands clutching my head. Throb. Throb. Throb. My eyes scanned the room: bleak, dusty and without any fog. My sheets lay in a pile next to me, and my duffle bag in the corner by the door. Next to the mirror. The one I had glanced into right before …

I gulped, recalling my reflection. The way my eyes had glowed golden, and how my skin had been riddled with veins, also golden. Golden and shiny and throbbing under my skin. Bile rushed up my throat at the thought of it. But my skin seemed fine now, every nook and every crease. I got on my knees and crawled to the mirror, a part of me cautious.

Afraid of what I might see.

Nothing. A normal girl – well, what passed for normal these days. I put a finger under each of my eyes and tugged down a little, studying my pupils and irises. Blue as the ocean. Then, I turned my head so I could examine my neck. Skin. Plain, normal, too-pale skin.

A wave of relief flushed through me, followed by a spurt of confusion. Of disappointment, almost. Had I imagined it all? The fog? The window? Branka? My glowing features?

I slapped the sides of my face and let out as deep a breath as my barely awake lungs could manage. Get it together, Eira. You were probably just affected by the fog. Yes, it deprived you of oxygen. You must’ve started to hallucinate. But Branka was there, in the parking lot.

I was sure of it. Or was I?

With my head still throbbing, I padded across the room to the bathroom. There, I splashed my face with water, brushed my teeth, and slathered on a pathetic amount of foundation. While I was never good at makeup – or particularly liked it – it did the job of brightening my complexion. Of hiding my acne scars, the blue-red splotches across my cheeks.

Maybe that was what I saw last night? My scars? But there weren’t any across my arms and legs.

I let out a grunt of frustration as I pushed away from the basin. Perhaps I was just going crazy. Or perhaps I had been crazy all along. The envelope, the island. None of it was real.

The Vinsants.

Alejandro.

My spirits perked when I thought of him. I rushed to my duffle bag and grabbed the first t-shirt – black, faded and with a picture of Darth Vader on it – and jeans I could find. My worn pair of Adidas trainers came next, followed by my mother’s old wristwatch.

Not the most glamorous outfit, but I didn’t care. Comfort bested looking good any day of the week.

The brisk morning air met my skin as I peeled out of the room. The parking lot was clear now, and the fog had retreated in between the trees opposite it. A layer of clouds paved the sky, fluffy and silver along the edges, and with streaks of sunlight filtering through.

Not too shabby for a strange town on a strange island. And the motel didn’t look half bad either.

Not in the day, at least.

I strolled across the deck, the wooden boards creaking under my weight. Birds chirped all around, fleeing to and from the forest. What intrigued me, though, was not the array of nests in the corner of the motel’s roof, but how every time a bird entered the forest, it kept above the fog. Not to graze it, nor to breathe it. Akin to the townsfolk, they feared it.

And after last night – after what it made me see in the mirror – I could understand why. Not so much deadly, but certainly strange. Strange and possibly intoxicating when inhaled.

I left the array of nests and peeling motel walls for the horrific interior of the reception area.

Mrs. Perez had lit a candle inside the massive skull on the desk. It’s eyes followed me as I strolled across the reception and through an entryway labelled Canteen. Beyond it lay an open space, arranged with tables and a buffet at the far end by the window.

The smell of coffee reached my nose from all across the room, followed by that of bacon and eggs.

I checked my wristwatch. 8 AM. Not too late, but not exactly early either. And from what Alejandro had said the previous evening, I had expected the place to be packed with the elderly.

It wasn’t.

Save for me, three senior citizens sat together around a table, and one slightly younger man on his own. Just then, Alejandro emerged from a pair of swing doors with a stack of plates. He placed them on the buffet table, then took one and started to help himself to breakfast.

I strolled across the canteen toward him, a part of me suddenly regretting wearing the Darth Vader shirt.

“Morning,” I said as cheerfully as my crackly, morning-voice could manage.

Alejandro jerked slightly. He glanced across his shoulder at me, his exposed brow raised. “Oh, uh … hello?”

I could sense the confusion in his voice, see it in his eyes. “It’s Eira, remember? The girl whom you showed to the Vinsants’ estate. Whom you saved from your mum’s wrath last night?”

Alejandro livened. “Eira, of course.” A nervous chuckle. “Sorry, I was just confused for a second.”

“Yea, I could tell …” I decided not to pry, and instead grabbed a plate.

We both helped ourselves to some eggs, bacon, a slice of white toast and a glass of orange juice. Alejandro handed me a tray before he set off to a table with a view of the forest. I followed after him, tempted to narrow my eyes. Did he really not remember me just now?

Strange.

Alejandro looked up and caught me staring at him. “What is it?” he wanted to know, puncturing one of his eggs with a fork. The yellow centre erupted, spilling across his plate.

“Nothing,” I lied as I slid onto the chair opposite him. “It’s just, where exactly is everyone?”

“What do you mean? This is everyone,” he replied with his mouth full. Bits of toast scattered across the table.

I raised a brow at him. “Only four senior citizens and one guest? Really?”

“Hey, it’s a small town.”

“And, uh” – I glanced over my shoulder at the younger man, his face hidden behind a newspaper – “what’s the deal with the guest? I thought you said no strangers ever come through here?”

“Oh, Henry? He works at the water and power plant down by the lake. Has been renting a room here for years. Something about avoiding the hassles that come with owning property.”

I nodded, my neck still craned. Henry all of a sudden lowered his paper and I snapped back around, stuffing my face with bacon. It crunched as I chewed, coating my mouth with salt, parching me. I reached for the orange juice and gulped down half the glass.

Alejandro merely smiled as I did this. “Woah, slow down. No one’s gonna take it from you.”

I sneered at him. Playfully, though. “Anyway,” I spoke on, “the fog entered my room last night.”

“What?” Alejandro choked on his toast. “What you mean the fog entered your room?”

“I left a window open and … well, when I woke up the entire place was filled with the stuff.”

“So, you” – he lowered his voice – “touched it?”

“Indeed I did.”

A moment of silence passed between us, but then Alejandro shook his head and chuckled. “Dios mío. You know, I wouldn’t have believed you had you not arrived the way you did.”

“Yea, well, I still don’t believe in the whole dying thing.” I paused with the fork raised halfway to my mouth, my eyes swerving to the window, to the trees on the other side of it. “I do believe there’s something wrong with the fog, though. It made me see things.”

This made Alejandro smirk. “See things?”

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just … it never makes anyone else see things.”

“Well, Mr. Deadly Fog, it didn’t kill me either,” I said as I leaned in across the table and contorted my face. My foot accidentally grazed his, making me flinch. I sat back, my cheeks warm.

“Touché,” said Alejandro and scratched the back of his head.

More silence.

“So,” he went on when I didn’t, “what’s your plan now that the Vinsants want nothing to do with you?”

I shoved my tray away from me, the food only half eaten. While relatively decent for a cheap motel, I wasn’t all that hungry. Especially now that Alejandro mentioned the Vinsants.

“Do you plan on,” he began, hesitating, “leaving?”

“No.” While I didn’t really know what I planned on doing, leaving definitely wasn’t it. Not before I had gotten to the bottom of things. Gotten clarity, closure. “I think I’ll stay here for a bit.”

The sides of Alejandro’s mouth curved upward. “Oh, okay. That’s great – uh – for you, of course. That you made up your mind.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as saying I made up my mind, but I know I’ve got to find out why the Vinsants lied to me.” I raised my glass and gulped down the rest of my orange juice. Slightly bitter. Sour, almost. “And, well, I’ve got nowhere to go. This is it. My final destination.”

I traced the glass’ rim with my finger, my elbow supporting me on the table.

“Say, Alejandro,” I added, “you don’t happen to know about any available jobs around town?”

“Jobs?”

“Yea, I’m running a little low on cash. And unless I want to sleep under a bridge somewhere …”

Alejandro scratched his left cheek. “Oh, sorry, but Evermist Island doesn’t have any bridges.” He waited for me to laugh, so I forced a chuckle. “And yea. My mother’s looking for a maid.”

I thought about it. A maid? In a motel with a single guest? What an absolute stroke of luck. Except for the fact that Mrs. Perez didn’t seem to like me very much. Or at all, for that matter.

“Really? You think your mum would hire me?”

Alejandro shook his head and his fringe parted to reveal his entire face. He didn’t readjust it. “I’m sure she would. The job doesn’t pay much, though, but you get to stay here for free.”

“Wow, really? In this five-star slice of heaven?”

“Hey, do you want the job or not?”

“I’d take anything at this point, believe me.” I met his eyes, both of them, and we shared a smile. He looked at me as though he had known me his entire life, and I couldn’t help but feel warm inside. Then, half involuntarily, my eyes swerved across the side of his face I never got to see. I tried to correct it by looking away, but he had already caught me.

Alejandro lowered his gaze and adjusted his fringe, his fingers coming rapidly through his hair.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Real nice, Eira.

“Anyway,” said Alejandro and cleared his throat, “there she is now. I’ll just ask her for you.” He raised his arm and called his mum over from where she was wiping down Henry’s table. He had gone a few minutes ago. Left his plate and glass in a crate by the door.

Mrs. Perez tossed the dishrag across her shoulder and strolled over. Her eyes briefly examined me, but then she smiled and said, “Yes, Chiquito? Everything alright with the food?”

“Si, muy deliciosa, mamá,” replied Alejandro. “But I actually called you over about the job opening. Eira’s decided to stay in town for a while and, well, she needs to make some money.”

I flashed my best – or what passed for my best – smile at Mrs. Perez, who still looked at me as though I had just crawled out of a toilet. But something in her eyes differed from the previous night. She had looked at me in fear then, whereas now she merely seemed confused.

“Eira?” she said after a thorough inspection of my clothes. “Have I seen you around town before?”

I parted my lips, but she forestalled me, “Of course I have. You’re a Vinsant, aren’t you?”

I nodded. My only saving grace seemed to be the very family who kicked me out and stalked me in the night. “Please, Mrs. Perez. I’ve never worked as a maid, but I used to do all the work around the house. Wash the dishes, make the beds. I even vacuumed.”

“Mamá,” Alejandro added, “I’ll keep a close eye on her.”

This made Mrs. Perez scratch her chin. She took a moment to consider, then slapped her hands against her sides and exhaled. “Alright, you’ve got the job. But I’m keeping my eye on you.”

A pause.

“On both of you.” She raised her finger at Alejandro, who got up and kissed his mum on the cheek.

“Muchas gracias, mamá,” he said.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Mrs. Perez went on as she peeled her son off of her. They looked so much alike. Their hair. Their eyes. Their skin. Well, except for Alejandro’s occasional patch here and there. “Since you’ll be showing Eira the ropes, I’m sending you both to the laundromat.”

“The laundromat? Really?” Alejandro whined. He glanced at me and I attempted to imitate his reaction.

“Si,” Mrs. Perez whistled. “I’ve loaded the dirty sheets in the baskets already, so all you two have to do is take them into town. Tell Mike I’ll pay him when he comes to drop them off later. Good luck.” Then, she playfully lashed at her son with her dishtowel and strutted off.

“Well,” I said to an unhappy-looking Alejandro, “at least I got a job.”