Nalee

By E.J. Sankey

The beginning of a trilogy, the second book is Fire and Ice. It took him a moment for his eyes come into focus, as he looked up he saw the most beautiful creature sitting beside him. She leaned over him shadowing out the sun so he could get a better look at her, and there before him was this girl that had golden blond hair, the most captivating violet eyes, and the most striking features, it was as if she was glowing.

Follow one young boy's escapades as heartbreaking events suddenly embark him on a journey into the world of magic.

In the midst of the tragedy, Frances' estranged grandmother mysteriously shows up and takes him to her private island. Never did he imagine that he was in for the surprise of his life as he began to witness things that he never imagined existed, encounter events he never knew would take place, and meet the angel-like mermaid beauty, NaLee.-

What exciting adventures will follow?

Enter a world of mystery, mayhem, piracy, surprise, and a private island full of secrets in author Erin Sankey's NaLee.


REVIEWS

Kirkus
Sankey's debut leads young-adult readers into a world of tropical romance and undersea drama.. Knows what the reader wants

Clarion
First book in a new trilogy Sankey is clearly full of imaginative ideas

Blue Ink
Wildly imaginative, contemporary fantasy for young adults. Has an insatiable Joie de vivre

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 13, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453577028

E.J. Sankey

My name is Erin Sankey I have already written NaLee the first book of the series, and I am hoping that you enjoy Fire and Ice as it brings you through daring fun and sinister twist and turns. I started writing these books because I felt that mermaids needed a makeover. I grew up in Chicago, and I have always enjoyed the scenery of Lake Michigan, I always wondered if there were mermaids of the lake. I am a massage therapist by trade, and I am a mother, I love being with my family, and I am an animal lover as well. Hope you enjoy.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by E.J. Sankey.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2010913678

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-4535-7701-1

                Softcover       978-1-4535-7700-4

                eBook            978-1-4535-7702-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 04/14/2015

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

Chapter 1   Estranged Family

Chapter 2   The Island

Chapter 3   Mirage

Chapter 4   NaLee

Chapter 5   Midnight Moon

Chapter 6   The Experiment

Chapter 7   Overstimulation

Chapter 8   Family History

Chapter 9   Glitch’s

Chapter 10   Waterfall Gardens

Chapter 11   A Hiss in the Night

Chapter 12   Ms. Holloway

Chapter 13   Deep Blue Sky

Chapter 14   The Run In

Chapter 15   Hank

Chapter 16   Special Place

Chapter 17   Stormy weather

Chapter 18   The Aftermath and clean up

Chapter 19   Exploring the house

Chapter 20   The Dolphins

Chapter 21   New School

Chapter 22   The Shuttle Launching

Chapter 23   The Box

Chapter 24   Movie night

Chapter 25   The Dream

Chapter 26   Candy

Chapter 27   Water Park

Chapter 28   The Mysterious Plane

Chapter 29   Bill Bagg

Chapter 30   Sea Weed

Chapter 31   Treasure of the Ocean

Chapter 32   The Ship

Chapter 33   The Fourth of July

Chapter 34   The Investigator

Chapter 35   Maggie

Chapter 36   It’s not over

I would like to dedicate this trilogy to my sons,

Adam and Weston.

I love you both.

S ome of the most tragic events can result in the most gripping and rewarding life anyone could ever dream. This is one of those stories. I share it with you the way I know it and remember it in my mind’s eye – as a legend of mystery, mayhem, piracy and surprise, with a private island full of secrets.

Chapter 1

Estranged Family

T he month was March, the day dreary. A light drizzle coated the streets with a chill that wouldn’t quit. The trees in Rosehill Cemetery were bare due to a long winter. Sixteen-year-old Francis sat there staring at them hoping and praying he was going to wake up at any moment.

Slowly, he turned his attention back to the coffins that sat in front of him. Tears ran down his cheeks.

Relatives and friends of the family walked up to him giving him hugs doing their best to console him. It was a lovely service.… I’m sorry about your parents.… They were wonderful people.… They’ll be missed, they would say.

Francis shook their hands and forced a smile. Thank you.… I’m glad you made it.… Thank you for showing your support, he’d say back.

It had been a week since Carter and Melody Hennessey were found in an alley off Western Avenue, stuffed into a dumpster behind one of the partially-abandoned industrial buildings. Francis had made it through the week somehow but now his sadness was turning into a scared feeling that kept swirling though his head – what was to come of his life? Where was he going to live? Who was he going to live with? Why did this happen? Is the sting and hurt ever gonna go away?

As he watched each consoling person pass him, he couldn’t help but look them over trying to figure out who’d be the best person he was going to live with. He looked at Ayden first. Though she was his sister, he knew that she wouldn’t be the best choice. She just bought a new house with her husband, and they were struggling to make ends meet not to mention that she was only one-month-pregnant—their parents didn’t even know about it. She was going to have them over for dinner and tell them about it before all this happened.

Francis pictured himself sleeping on the couch in his cousin’s cramped studio apartment—that’s unsettling he thought. The mediocre musician that Mark was, and to say that he struggled financially would’ve been putting a shine on it. Not to mention the past debt from his failed business venture.

Thaddeus, Francis’ great uncle, staggered forward, mumbled something garbled, patted him on the shoulder and moved on. Francis shook his head in disappointment. His uncle had some real problems. He was strange, he barricaded himself in his basement surrounded by booby traps installed ‘for safety.’ Thaddeus was never the same after the war. He needed to be on medication, and every so often he would have flashbacks– flashbacks that resulted in even stranger behavior.

Francis buried his face in his hands. He listened to the whispers around him and could feel their eye’s boring down upon what felt like his soul. It was suffocating. Everything seemed to be falling apart. He wanted to scream.

Here, take this.

Francis looked up to see the blurry image of his sister, Ayden standing over him, holding out a handkerchief.

Thanks, he said, sniffling as he reached for it.

Ayden sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. I miss ’em too, but everything’s going to be okay. I promise.

Francis wiped his face off, and cleared his throat.

Ayden looked at the two coffins surrounded by a mass of flowers.

This isn’t easy for me either, you know.

Yeah, I know, Francis said.

Ayden took her arm off his shoulder. …Listen, we’re fixing up the spare bedroom for you.

Francis looked at her. Wait, what?

We’re going to take you with us.

You are?

…Yeah, Ayden said. What ’ja think you were goin’ do – live on the streets?

Francis looked down at the ground. I have no idea what’s going on. Nobody’s said anything to me… he paused, … except that Bill was making you sell the house. Besides, I thought the spare was gonna be the baby’s room?

Ayden sat back in her seat. Who told you that?

Knowing you…its true—isn’t it?

She sat there silently for a moment before she took a deep breath and spoke. We kinda need the money.

And you wanna sell Mom and Dad’s house, Francis retorted.

"Yeah, Bill doesn’t wanna live in their house, Ayden said looking back at the coffins. He has his house."

Can’t you speak to him?

Well, yeah…

Can’t I say something?

Some nearby people were beginning to notice Francis and Ayden’s disagreement. Francis was becoming angry. Ayden looked up at everyone, they instantly looked away.

Look, she said, lowering her voice, …it’s cold out here. Bill ’nd I are going to give you a ride home. We can wait a few days before we figure out what were gonna do with the house, but for now—it’s best to think about packing your stuff.

Francis clutched Ayden’s arm as she stood-up. Shouldn’t we stay until the end?

Why?

Francis looked around. …There’s people still here. Why are we leaving?

We’ve been here long enough. A moment passed before she touched his hand. "You’ve been here long enough."

Francis nodded weakly and said in a huff, …Fine. He let go of Ayden’s arm and stood up. The crowd parted as Francis followed Ayden towards the car.

Bill was waiting for them. As they walked towards the car, Bill flicked away a half-smoked cigarette.

Francis looked down at the ground. He didn’t notice the black limousine pull up behind Bill’s car. He looked back up only to see a confused look on Ayden’s face. He looked over at what she was staring at.

The engine shut off as a driver got out. He was fairly young looking, wearing a long black coat and cap. He looked around for a moment, almost as if he wasn’t sure where he was, then spoke to Bill. Hello there, sorry to intrude. I’m looking for a Master Francis Hennessey.

Francis froze. He looked at the driver, not knowing what to say. He had never seen the man before.

Bill took a step forward. Who are you, first of all, and what do you want with Francis? Bill asked, trying to speak with authority.

The driver tipped his hat and smiled. Please forgive me, I’m here on behalf of Mrs. Emma Gledstorm. She is the biological grandmother of Miss Ayden and Mr. Francis Hennessey.

There was a moment of silence. Francis couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He didn’t know that Emma Gledstorm was still alive. His mother hardly ever spoke about her, and when she did, it was little stories here and there.

He cautiously spoke up. …I’m Francis.

The driver smiled and held up his finger motioning Francis to wait. Francis and Ayden looked at each other as the driver turned on his heel, walked to the rear passenger’s side door and opened it. An older woman stepped out. She was wearing a dark cloak with a grey dress underneath, and high heels that looked like they had never touched the ground before now. She had a neatly piled bun on top of her head like an old-fashioned housewife.

Francis, she said with a smile. I am your grandmother. My name is Emma Gledstorm.

Francis stood gawking at her, his mouth open.

Please, close your mouth, dear, Emma said in a soothing tone.

Francis snapped out of his daze and shut his mouth.

I know that this is a shock to you. However, I was informed that in the case of a tragedy such as this, I was chosen to be your legal guardian, Emma said, looking at Francis.

It felt like an eternity had gone by before anything was said. Then Ayden finally spoke up. I think I may need to speak to my lawyer about this. I haven’t heard anything about any of it. Our mother hardly ever spoke about you.

Emma retained her warm smile. That sounds fine, dear. I’ll have my lawyer call your lawyer. We’ll have all this straightened out. In the meantime, I’ll follow you to your house and we can talk more there.

Ayden didn’t respond. She was in a state of shock.

Emma waited for a moment. …Is it okay if we talk more at Melody’s house? she asked.

Ayden slowly nodded in agreement. She looked at Bill, who simply shrugged his shoulders and got into the car.

Emma’s driver stood in front of the open back door. He looked at Emma, then at Francis.

Would you like to ride with us, Francis? Emma asked.

Francis looked over his shoulder at Ayden, then back at Emma. …Um, thanks, …but I think I’ll go with my sister. Hope that’s okay?

Of course, dear, Emma responded. She sat back into the limo and the driver shut the door.

Emma’s driver got back into the driver’s seat.

When they arrived at the house, phone calls were made. Words were exchanged.

Francis sat at the kitchen table with a glass of water in front of him. He had given up trying to hear what was being said in the living room. Occasionally, he would look out the window facing the back yard, and watch Emma’s driver leaning up against the car, talking on a cell phone. After a while, Emma came into the kitchen and sat across the table from him.

You’re probably wondering what’s going on, she said.

Francis nodded.

No doubt you’re overwhelmed by all of this. It’s perfectly understandable.

Francis was still reeling from everything that had happened in the past week, but in the back of his mind he hoped that Emma was telling the truth. He was scared that it wasn’t true.

Ayden came into the kitchen and sat down. Well, I just spoke with Mom and Dad’s lawyer, and it looks like our parents did make arrangements for Mrs. Gledstorm here to be your legal guardian.

Emma looked at Ayden and said with a smile, Please dear, call me Emma. Eventually, I’d like ‘Grandmother’ or ‘Grandma’…. grandma preferably, but, whichever you’d like.

Ayden thoughtfully smiled back at her grandmother and said, Emma.

Well then, it’s settled. Emma clapped her hands together, and said in a parental tone. Francis is coming to live with me.

Francis’ kept his attention focused on the floor.

How does that sound to you, Francis? Ayden asked.

Francis looked back up at Ayden, then at Emma, and nodded. He pushed the chair out and stood up. I’ll need a minute to grab some stuff.

Of course, Emma said.

Francis walked upstairs to his room. He packed a duffel bag full of clothes and gathered some of his smaller belongings: his Ipod, his DSI gaming system, some books and other various things that he thought he might need. Once he had everything he wanted, he headed back downstairs to the kitchen. He set his bags down in the middle of the room.

I’m ready, he simply said.

Emma, at first, gave him a confused look and then her face softened a little. We don’t have to go right this second. Don’t you have any friends you want to say goodbye to?

Nah. I’m good, Francis replied. I just wanna get outta here. I’m not feeling very outgoing right now. I seriously just wanna be by myself.

I understand quite well, Emma consoled. But are you sure? I don’t want to take you back to my house and have you regretted not saying good-bye to any of your friends. Francis thought about that for a moment. He shook his head. No, honestly, I’m good. But I can always come back to say good-bye later. Right?

Absolutely you can, Emma nodded.

Cool, he said sitting back down. Emma stood up from the table and looked out the kitchen window. She called out to the driver. Get the car ready. We’re off to the airport.

The limo driver saluted to her in confirmation and wrapped up his phone call.

Emma turned back towards Francis. Last chance to change your mind before we head on over to the airport. Are you sure you don’t wanna say goodbye to anyone. Perhaps I should stay the week here and wait?

Emma knew what she was talking about, she remembered how she had shut her friends out after her husband died.

Thanks, but I’m fine, Francis said finishing his water.

Simultaneously, Ayden turned around and left the kitchen. Francis and Emma sat in silence looking at each other. Francis spun the empty glass around with the thumb and fingers of his right hand.

Emma broke the silence. Everything’s going to be fine.

Before Francis could say anything, Ayden came back into the kitchen with a small black pouch. She slipped it into his jacket pocket. Here, she said, This is some just-in-case money. I feel better knowing that you have it.

Francis snapped the pocket shut. Aw, sis, you don’t have to.

Emma got up from her chair wand walked over to them. You know, he really won’t need that.

No, it’s okay, Ayden cut in as she zipped up Francis’s jacket for him. She rested her hands on his shoulders. Just in case, right?

Right. I’ll call you as soon as I get to… Francis paused for a moment looking at Emma, and said, …wherever it is I’m going.

The driver knocked on the back door and walked into the kitchen. Emma turned to him and said, Take Francis’ bags to the car and put them in the trunk.

Ayden turned towards Emma. "Where are you going?"

A small island just off the coast of Florida, about thirty minutes away, Emma said with matter-of-fact coolness. It’s kind of small, but it’s home.

Ayden’s eyes widened. What?

The limo driver came between Emma and Ayden to pick up Francis’ duffel bag and suitcase. As he carried the bags to the door, Emma talked to him, We’ll be ready in a moment.

You say you live on an island? Ayden’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets and fly across the kitchen.

Yes, and Homestead is where are root’s began. Do you know where that is, Francis?

Uh-uh, Francis said looking at Ayden.

Bill crept into the kitchen and stood behind Ayden. It’s near Miami, isn’t it?

That’s right, Emma replied.

I really don’t understand why Mom and Dad never talked about this, Ayden said. She looked like she was starting to get worried. I mean— this is too weird!

Yes, I can see where this all seems weird. I mean it’s not that often you meet people that live on a private island, Emma said speaking softly, trying to calm the room. Suddenly, her attention was drawn to an array of magnetized photos of her deceased daughter and son-in-law scattered around the doors of the refrigerator. Francis and Ayden were in a lot of them. Emma picked one photo that showed all four of them at Six Flags Great America, and removed it from under a small, magnetized pink heart.

I’m taking this, she said.

Bill walked up to Francis and shook his hand. I know this is all happening pretty fast and, call me crazy, …but I think this is a good thing.

You’re definitely not crazy, Francis said, glancing at Emma hesitantly. Emma was studying the photo.

You know if you get homesick, you can always call us, Bill said.

You’ll always have a place here, Ayden added.

Thanks, Francis said, putting an arm around Ayden. He hugged her for a moment. When he pulled back, he shook Bill’s hand bent down and picked up his backpack the driver didn’t take and followed Emma out to the limo.

The limo took them to O’Hare Airport. The silence between Francis and Emma along the way was just what he needed. He wanted to be left alone to mourn. He hadn’t really stopped to think about where he was going, but he knew he wanted to get there and go to bed. When things seemed to be peaceful and comfortable, he slowly closes his eyes, letting the rhythm of the car lull him to sleep. It all seemed to be going so well as his eyes started to laze, Emma touched his hand.

I just want to prepare you for where we’re headed, she said as she moved her hand up to the side of his face for comfort. The island I live on is in the Atlantic Ocean, right off the Miami coast, as I said before.

Mmm-hmm, Francis said not opening his mouth, gently tilting his head away from her reach.

Well, it was purchased by your great-great-great grandfather, Thomas Caytone. Emma returned her hand to her lap. He purchased it for his wife Emmaline, and the island’s name is Caytone Island.

Though what Emma was say was interesting, he felt his eyes getting heavy. The more she talked about the island, the more unreal it sounded to him, almost like a fairy tale. He imagined his mother and Emma living in some small hut encircled by palm trees. With-in moments he drifted off to sleep.

The drive took about forty-five minutes. There was some light traffic on the way over to the airport. It took a little longer than usual, Francis was feeling better. When he opened his eyes, the car was sitting in front of a small jet not too far from them. Emma pointed to it saying something. Francis groggily sat up as the door was opened by the limo driver.

Where are we? Francis asked.

I said, we’re here, Emma said. At the airport.

Francis looked at the small jet, and then at everything else, and then back at Emma, Where’s the terminal? he asked.

Don’t worry, Emma replied. We’re flying down to Florida in my private jet.

Francis undid the top button of his white-collared shirt that he still had on from the funeral. He gently pulled a necklace out from under it.

Emma noticed the necklace. It was pure silver with a pendant that hung from it – a small black opal set into a pure silver plate. Tears welled up in her eyes as she smiled simultaneously. I gave that necklace to your mother when she was a young girl.

Francis looked down at the pendant and felt his tears returning. He took a deep, shaky breath. Emma slid over to him and squeezed his hand tightly. He laid his head on her shoulder and regained his composure.

It’s going to be all right, Emma said in a reassuring voice. I promise, dear.

They got out of the car and walked toward the jet. The driver followed behind with the bags. A flight attendant took them, standing on the top step of a small stairway next to the open doorway of the plane. As Emma and Francis got up and boarded the jet, the attendant cheerfully said, Enjoy your flight, as she closed the door she headed off into a small closet like space behind a curtain.

The cabin of the jet seemed larger on the inside. On one side there were three sets of reclining chairs, facing each other across circular coffee tables. On the other side was a bar with a glass counter-top, with several rows of bottles lining the wall behind it.

Francis settled into one of the recliners while Emma brought him a blanket. She then crossed to the bar and made herself a drink, vodka with orange juice. She looked up at Francis. Do you want something to help you relax?

Francis looked at the bar behind Emma, then at her. Just water.

You, sure?

Yeah, thanks, Francis nodded.

Okay. Emma got a bottle of water from a small refrigerator and poured it into a glass for him.

Francis had a question he wanted to ask Emma, but was too tired to phrase it suavely. So he just blurted it out. Why’d you give my mom the necklace?

Emma smiled. Well, it was her sixteenth birthday and I passed it down to her, as my mother passed it down to me on my sixteenth birthday. She came from around the bar with the drinks, handing Francis his water.

And my mom gave it to Ayden.

There was a bit of a pause. Emma picked up the pendant between her fingers and looked at it. Why do you have it?

Ayden gave it to me after the accident. Francis took a sip of water. She said she thought that I needed it more, he said taking a deep breath through his nose.

That was nice of her, Emma whispered.

She turned and knocked on the door to the jet’s cockpit. The door opened and she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

The engine started to rev up as Francis looked out the window. The attendant sat in a chair towards the back of the jet. After a moment, the plane began to shift. They taxied onto a nearby runway picked-up speed and started their ascent up into the sky.

Francis watched as the clouds in the sky grew larger as he was propelled toward them. After a while as the jet rose above the clouds Francis noticed them became a white rug that stretched as far as he could see. His eyes felt heavy, and he now started to give into the lull of the jet. The light turbulence from the Midwest weather that the plane roared away from rocked Francis to sleep. When Emma came back into the cabin from the cockpit, he had already been out for a half an hour.

As they flew, Emma sat across from her grandson starring at him, admiring his features. He was tall, with a slim, yet muscular physique. He had sandy blonde hair with ice blue eyes. Her daughter, Melody, did well, she thought to herself. She raised her children with love and compassion, and it showed. She got up and walked to the bar to make herself another screwdriver, this time only a half-glass. She took it and sat down and, after a little while, fell asleep.

Chapter 2

The Island

T he jet landed with a soft thump on a private runway at Miami International Airport. Francis didn’t open his eyes until the plane had come to a complete stop. He looked out of the window and saw some attendants carrying their luggage toward the trunk of another limousine.

Francis looked at Emma, she was standing over his shoulder.

Good, you’re awake, she said, leaning over the back of his chair. Do you feel up to carrying anything?

Francis nodded. Yeah, sure, why not. He picked up his backpack and duffel bag and took them down the stairs down to the runway. An attendant headed towards Francis and took the bags from him, he smiled but didn’t say anything. He turned around and took the bags to the trunk of the limo.

The air was warm. Francis stopped and let the unbridled sun beat down on him. He unbuttoned his white dress shirt and took off his black blazer jacket for the first time all day.

Another limo driver waited for them next to an open rear passenger’s door. Emma climbed into the back seat and Francis followed. The driver closed the door and they headed off towards the harbor.

I’m so sorry Francis, Emma said, but I promise the journey is almost over. We just have to get on the yacht and get to the island and that’s it, I promise.

I’m okay. Francis mustered up half a smile, I’m not worried or anything. Just goin’ with the flow.

Well, anything to make it a little easier, Emma replied. Do you have any questions for me?

There were a ton of questions that Francis had for her. Instead, he thought it would be best to get to wherever they were going first.

…You know what, I think I’m good for now.

The rest of the trip was quiet until they pulled up to a small harbor. Another attendant met Francis and Emma at the pier and gathered up their things to bring them on the yacht.

Francis had never been on a yacht before, he stopped to look at it. It was a nice-sized yacht. It looked like one of the fancy ones he remembered seeing over at Lake Michigan’s harbor back in Chicago. The boat was white, the windows were tinted black as they wrapped around it. It had three levels- the lowest level housed the bedrooms, a bathroom with a shower and a comfortable galley. The second level had a wet bar, a living room area with a screened-in porch and a couch with some love seats. The top deck contained the control room and a sundeck. Francis didn’t want to be rude, so he stayed on the top deck with Emma as she manned the boat.

Francis had an amazing view of everything as he hung onto the side railings that ran the course of the yacht. As the island slowly came into view, he noticed an intoxicating fragrance. He closed his eyes and breathed it in letting the salty sea air hit his face. When he opened them, he could see that the island’s beach had pink sand. A moment later Emma began to slow down so she could pull into the docks. Still hanging onto the railings Francis could see the entire island was covered with a variety of exotic flowers, and the palm trees that were meticulously placed along the landscape.

As Emma pulled into the dock’s moorings, Francis looked down he could see that the water surrounding the island was especially clear. It was an inviting aqua blue that teemed with tropical fish. He couldn’t stop staring.

Emma stepped out of the control room. We’re here.

This is the island where you live? he asked looking around.

Yes, this is Caytone Island. Your new home.

Francis took in his surroundings, he could see everything from the top of the yacht. Then he turned towards Emma. …Now I know I’m dreaming and I’m gonna wake up, he said. It was like he was saying it while everything moved in slow motion.

All Emma could do was smile. Oh, I assure you, my dear, this is no dream and you’re not going to wake up.

Once the yacht was tied to the docks, Francis and Emma stepped down and headed toward the jetty. An older man was waiting for them as he took Emma’s hand and held it as she stepped off the plank. He was properly dressed, maybe overdressed, in a short coat with tails and pin-striped black trousers. His graying hair was offset by a pair of compassionate eyes. Hello, Madame, he said warmly.

Hello, James, Emma said. While still gripping the man’s extended hand, she passed off her handbag to him. He took it with his free hand. Emma gestured over her shoulder toward Francis. This is Francis, my grandson.

When Emma was safely on the ground James then reached out and helped Francis down. Pleasure to meet you, Master Francis.

This is my butler, James, Emma said. He’s been with me for ten years now.

Very true, Madame. James let go of Francis’ hand and tried to reach for the strap of the duffel bag hanging over his shoulder. May I take this bag, Sir?

Instead, Francis looked at his bag and then back at James. He forced another uncomfortable smile and said, Thanks, but I got it.

James chuckled. Suit yourself, Sir, he said with a nod.

Francis helped James load the bags onto the back of a nearby electric golf cart. Once everyone was seated and comfortable, they set off for the house. The air was thick with the salt from the ocean. The sun sat high above pouring though the canopy of trees piercing the ground like steel beams, brightening the lush green landscape around them. It was beautiful five minute trip up a sandy gravel road before the house came into view, rising like a behemoth amongst the vivacious palms. It was a majestic white Victorian mansion with dark blue trim. A screened-in porch wrapped around it with wicker furniture, plush cushions, and fans to keep loungers cool on warm nights. The front yard was beautifully landscaped with stunning flowers and plants. Two big potted palms rested on either side of the stairs creating a tropical entrance to the mansion.

Two macaws waddled around the ground— one was red and the other was blue. As the golf cart pulled up, they stopped their meandering and eyed Francis with intense intimidation. Emma took notice and introduced them to him.

Those two are Nilly and Peach. They’ve been on the island since just after your mother left.

Francis crouched down to get a better look at them. One of them screeched and spoke with impressive annunciation, Hello.

Hello, Francis said back. He watched them for a moment before they went back to wandering around, then he followed Emma and James towards the front door of the house. That’s so awesome. I’ve never known anybody with birds like ’em, he said.

Don’t worry. They’ll warm up to you over time, Emma said over her shoulder. She climbed the steps to the porch and turned back to Francis. Soon you’ll be able to feed them by hand.

Francis stopped at the threshold of the door. He was taken aback by what he saw. The house was beautifully decorated with furniture made out of rosewood, upholstered in mauve Italian silk with intricate floral designs. The walls were covered with grassy green wallpaper with dark green vines accented with a thin black shadow that outlined each vine. Exquisite tapestries hung from them as the sun poured into the rooms through elegantly draped windows, illuminating everything. Different color oriental rugs were scattered throughout the rooms. The entire house smelled of cranberries and pear. Francis stepped inside and saw a large grandfather clock standing in the entryway.

After getting over the initial shock of the majestic house in front of him, Francis noticed a loud purring in the next room. Curious to see what it was, he followed the sound around a corner and into the parlor room. That’s where he was surprised to see none other than a cheetah lounging on a maroon red fainting couch. It stared at him. Francis froze.

Emma walked in behind him and whispered in his ear. That’s Lattie, she said. She’s friendly. You can go ahead and pet her …if you’d like.

Francis was still frozen in place.

Don’t worry. She won’t hurt you.

He warily walked over to Lattie holding out his hand. She sniffed it and opened her mouth to pant so she could get used to Francis’s scent. When she did she nudged him with the bridge of her nose, signaling to him that it was okay to pet her. He started with her forehead, stroking it softly, then he worked his way down scratching her behind her ears.

A moment later James entered the room, Francis’s duffel bag hanging from his shoulder. If you would be so kind as to follow me, I’ll show you to your room, Master Francis.

Francis pet Lattie one more time, letting his hand run the length of her soft body. He then followed James out of the parlor and up the grand staircase to the second floor. James led Francis to a door at the end of a long hallway and opened it letting Francis enter first.

Francis walked in and looked around. It was large and shaped like an octagon, with cream-colored walls and a row of dark brown hardwood beams lining the ceiling. Slowly revolving beneath the beams was a large fan made of copper and wood. Antique furniture, also made of rosewood, occupied half of the room. Against the opposite wall stood a large sleigh bed with luxurious white silk bedding. The floor had wall to wall soft plush khaki carpeting. Across from the bed a pair of French doors led out to a veranda lined with plants and flowers that overflowed the railings like scraggly, multi-colored waterfalls.

James slid around Francis with a polite, Excuse me, Sir, and walked to a set of dresser drawers, positioned next to a large bay window that faced out onto a vast, unregulated miniature jungle of palm trees. James set Francis’ duffel bag on top of a set of dresser drawers. No one’s slept in this room for years, Sir, but I washed the blankets and put down fresh new sheets before you arrived. James turned around and faced Francis. Do you want me to put your clothes away, Sir?

Francis was frozen in place, looking almost blankly around the room.

… Sir…? James repeated.

…This is my room? Francis said almost flabbergasted.

James looked around the room, then back at Francis. Yes, this is your room. Let me show you around, James said walking over to a door.

He opened it swinging it out wide so Francis could see inside. This is the closet.

Francis blinked his eyes as he looked into it. James leaned in and turned on a light. The closet was large, roughly the size of Francis’ old room. Francis interlaced his fingers on the back of his head and stared at the empty space in disbelief. I think my old room was as big as this closet, he said.

James smiled as he closed the closet door. This is a little overwhelming for you then, huh? All Francis could do was nod. James pressed on walking passed the French doors. He opened another door, leaned in and turned on that light. This is the bathroom.

Francis stood in the doorway. The bathroom was tiled from the floor half way up to the high ceiling in fine beige porcelain. Initially, he only saw a wooden door that was very clearly a linen closet. Francis stepped inside the room a little, and he saw a small wall that led around a corner somewhere else. Francis looked back at James curiously, but changed his mind and stepped back out. I’ll look at it later. It’s just a bathroom, right?

James closed the bathroom door and went over to the bed. He bent over and fluffed the pillows. Is there anything I can get for you, Sir? he asked.

Francis pretended to think for a moment so it didn’t look like he was being rude, but the truth was that he was really having a hard time with an older man waiting on him. He could tell that James was eagerly awaiting some kind of answer. Um… no, he stammered, No, thank you. I’m all right for now.

James nodded. Very well, Master Francis, then I shall leave you to attend to your belongings, if you don’t mind. He pointed to a button on the wall above the nightstand by Francis’ bed. If you need anything, anything at all, feel free to call me with the buzzer on the wall over there.

Francis smiled weakly. Thanks, I will he said graciously.

Dinner will be at seven o’clock or so, James said as he went around the bed and headed for the door. I think we’ll be preparing fish tonight.

You know, I’m not sure I’m up for dinner tonight, Francis said, sitting on the bed. It’s been… he trailed off, looking out through the window, out into the sky that was starting to ripen in the late afternoon. … It’s been a long day.

And a long week as well, I imagine, James said leaning back, resting against the threshold of the door, with his hand on the doorknob.

Yeah, it has, Francis said as he undid the rest of the buttons of his white shirt removing it.

I’ll let Miss Gledstorm know then. I think she’ll understand.

Francis saw that James was starting to withdraw from the room and pull the door shut slowly. Wait, he called.

James stopped. Yes, Sir?

Francis thought for a moment. Ultimately, he shrugged his shoulders and said, Sorry. It’s nothing.

If you change your mind… James gestured towards the buzzer.

Okay.

Until tomorrow then… James started to close the door adding, Master Francis.

Francis lay back on the giant bed. After a moment of silence, there was a rumble that came from somewhere behind the walls, and a few seconds later cool air blew in from an air conditioning vent nearby. The covers enveloped him cocooning his body in pleasant surroundings as he passively watched the fan slowly turning above him until he fell asleep. It was nice to finally get the peace and quiet he wanted, and he cherished every minute of it.

The next morning he woke-up to a warm breeze grazing across his face, with a sweet smell filling the room. Francis opened his eyes, and saw that the French doors were open. He could hear the waves hitting the beach in the distance. He was pretty sure by now that he was definitely not dreaming, he stirred in bed for a while, basking in the reality of his surroundings. He heard chirping sounds coming from the veranda, and got out of bed to catch a glimpse of them. As he crept up to the veranda’s doorway, he saw little golden finches digging around in the flowerpots that were sitting along the railing. They were not paying attention to Francis, until he snickered a little sending them all on their away.

Francis stepped out onto veranda and let the morning sun hit his face. The sun was brighter here than in Chicago, as he winced a little before the breathtaking view came into focus.

The house’s yard, if it could be called that, stretched out in front of him before being met by a grove of palm trees that surround the house. Beyond it was the ocean, and he swore he could also make out a thin horizontal strip of sand somewhere between the treetops and the water. The view to the left was very different- the yard stretched farther, much farther, in fact. It was beautifully populated with palm trees and some plant life, it seemed to be very tropical. He couldn’t really tell where the island met with the water, he just knew that he could see it.

The veranda’s surface had a colorful array of polished sandstone pebbles set in a mosaic pattern. In the center of the veranda was a glass table, surrounded by four lounge chairs shaded under a wide umbrella. A sunbathing chaise sat a few feet away near an intricately designed wrought iron fence.

More birds flew past Francis and landed on the nearby railing. They chirped, tweeted and cooed, then went to scouring the potted plants for whatever food they could find. When they settled down, Francis started to notice the sounds of what he assumed were other animals in the distance. It reminded him of the continuously running recordings of wild animals that some downtown buildings would run to keep the pigeons out of their parking garages.

Francis sat down in one of the chairs at the table. He took in the environment for while - the morning sun, the fresh air filling his lungs with every deep breath, listening to the sounds of wildlife around him. He kept thinking to himself,

‘I can’t believe this view, I can’t believe this room, I can’t believe that this is gonna be my new life.’

All of a sudden he felt an unpleasant urge to use the bathroom, and realized he hadn’t done so since he got to the house.

He walked back inside and opened the door leading to the bathroom, turned on the light and walked in. The first thing that caught his attention was a marble Jacuzzi tub. Next to it was a standing shower stall made of frosted glass. Across from both was a long marble counter that spanned the entire octagonal wall on one side, with a vanity mirror and a lavish sink. The walls were tiled half way up, with beige wallpaper continuing on up to the ceiling, divided by a single line of shiny black tiles. The toilet was in its own alcove, hidden by another wall. A window sat near it was shaded by wooden Venetian blinds, the soft morning light slipping in between the slats.

After a much-needed shower and some fresh clothes, Francis headed downstairs to see what was happening. He found Emma sitting at the long table in the dining room, waiting for him. She greeted him with a hearty, Good morning!

Francis nodded and returned the greeting with a slightly cool, Good morning, Emma.

How’d you sleep last night?

Francis sat down across from Emma at the table. He looked the breakfast spread before answering her. I slept fine, thanks, he said as he politely folded his hands in his lap.

I hope you’re hungry, she said. I didn’t know what you’d like, but I have some eggs, toast, bacon and a variety of fruits that are grown here on the island.

Francis dished out some of the eggs and a couple strips of bacon onto his plate. Not realizing how hungry he was, he wolfed it down. He looked up at Emma. This is really great, so fresh, he said wiping his hands off in a napkin.

Emma smiled kindly. How are you feeling this morning? she asked making sure he was adjusting okay.

He chewed slowly as he evaluated himself. …I’m doing a lot better now.

Good. When you skipped dinner I wasn’t sure. Emma trailed off for a moment, I hope the bed was comfortable enough for you.

Francis reached for a piece of toast and dropped it onto his plate. Everything is great. The room’s amazing. The view’s awesome. It’s more than I could ever hope for.

I’m so glad you are adjusting well. I want you to take your time; here on the island there is no rush to… Emma trailed off again. …recovery.

Thanks, Francis said looking around the room. Its all just happening so fast, that’s all.

I can imagine, she said. I know what happened was tough but you’ll be okay. You’ll see, she said sipping her coffee.

It was quiet between them for a moment until James walked into the room. Is there anything I can make special for you, Master Francis?

Looking at the breakfast spread before him on the table, Francis thought he couldn’t really ask for anything more. He looked at James and shook his head. No thanks James. I’m fine with everything that’s out here.

James bowed. Very good, then. He turned and walked out of the room.

If you’d like to explore the island today you’re more than welcome to do so, Emma continued. It really is a wonderful place.

Francis thought for a moment. Yeah, I think I’d like that. The view from my room is beautiful. It seriously looks awesome!

Yes, your room has the second best view in the house. I thought you’d like that.

What’s the best view in the house?

Emma chuckled a little. Well, my room, of course.

I see, Francis breathed. I’ll have to compare that one day, ya know… see see’s who’s is really the best, he said winking at her.

Emma chuckled at the comment. I see you have a sense of humor, huh.

Maybe, he said.

Francis went back to eating. Emma watched him, taking sips from a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. After a few minutes, he looked at her.

You know, my mom did talk about you, but never in a bad way. She’d tell me stories about the island however she didn’t say anything about living on it.

Is that so?

She said that she played here… a lot. She called it …Her Island. I remember she told me stories of her favorite place to be alone and where you had picnics. Francis poured the last of the juice into the glass sitting in front of him. She also told me stories of how she traveled all over the place with you and your husband…

Emma corrected Francis, interjecting, Your grandfather.

Francis caught himself. Yeah….sorry.

It’s all right.

"Anyway, she’d talk about how much fun it was. She told me all