Summer at Forsaken Lake (28 page)

T
he first scene, in which the man in the rowboat shoots and injures the poor creature, appeared exactly as Will had remembered it, but from that point forward,
The Seaweed Strangler
was Nicholas’s film. Will was astonished by what he saw. His son had incorporated the grainy 8 mm film into an entirely new story, artfully intercutting the original scenes with crisp, clear video starring the twins, Charlie, Nick, and himself.

Instead of watching the movie for the umpteenth time, Nicholas watched his father’s reactions. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will smile at the scene in which the (improbably young) twin archaeologists discover a long-lost reel of film in the tower room at Nick’s house—in
Will’s old hiding place behind the paneling. And, as the “missing scene” (from the camera that Mikey had cared for all those years) began to unfold, Will cringed when he saw himself aboard Teddy’s boat, helpless as it plowed onto the rocks. It was the first time he, or anyone else in the room besides Nicholas and Charlie, had seen those images, and the look on his face was one of utter confusion. He turned to see Nicholas grinning slyly at him.

“How on earth did you …?” Will asked, palms facing the ceiling.

Nicholas gave him a little shrug and a smile.

The audience oohed and aahed when the action moved aboard
Goblin
for the voyage into “the perilous, uncharted waters of the north,” as Charlie’s character described it. Nicholas, who did the filming, revealed an artistic side that even he didn’t know he had. He captured the beauty of the little ship silhouetted against an evening sky of purple and orange, sails slicing through the growing darkness until all was black and only the sound of water rushing by the hull remained.

Hetty was unable to contain her excitement any longer. “Omigosh—we’re coming to the best part. This is so cool.”

“Shhh!” said Hayley. “Don’t ruin the surprise.”

As morning breaks over
Goblin
and nearby Onion Island, the young archaeologists row ashore, with filmmaker Charlie tagging along, determined to be the first to
actually film the Seaweed Strangler—and survive. After searching the island for several days, they finally find signs of their old friend, the professor who was obsessed with the creature—and who had disappeared on his most recent expedition. First, they find a pocketknife bearing the professor’s initials, and a little later, they notice something hanging from a tree branch. It is his backpack—the one that he
always
carried with him. With sad faces, they pull out his journal and a small camera.

Hayley reads the journal entry in which the professor described the creature eating the raw fish and wrote about going deeper into the woods, and then hands the journal to Hetty.

“I’m afraid this may be all that’s left of the professor,” Hetty adds, looking directly into Charlie’s camera. “What do we do now?”

“We owe it to him to continue his work,” says Hayley.

Hetty, meanwhile, flips through the professor’s journal. “Wait! Listen. This is his
final
entry:
As a scientist, I am compelled to carry on with my research—to learn all I can about these strange and wonderful human beings (and they are human, let there be no mistake about that) and to tell the world about them. But after spending two weeks observing them, I have arrived at a very different conclusion: they deserve to be left alone. They are peaceful and resourceful and have lived on this remote island for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Yes, they have acted violently on occasion
,
but ONLY when provoked by other humans. Therefore, I have made the decision to return to the university and announce that my expedition was a failure—that the creatures do NOT exist—with the sincere hope that my announcement will bring an end to any further investigation of the mystery
.”

Hetty looks into the camera. “Blimey. Well, that settles it. We’re going home.”

Cue the ominous music.

“Not so fast,” says Charlie, holding a pistol on the two young adventurers. “Nobody’s going anywhere. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll take that journal and the backpack.”

Hetty takes a step toward her. “Have you lost your bloody mind? Put that gun down.”

“I don’t think so,” Charlie says, pointing it at Hetty’s chest. “I killed the professor, and I’m willing to kill you.”

Hayley explodes. “
You
killed the professor? But … why? When?”

“Because he went soft on me. We could have made millions, taking the Seaweed Strangler—alive—back to civilization. I was with your precious professor on his last expedition, and everything was going great. Then one morning he tells me we’re going back, and we’re going to tell the world— Well, you read the stupid journal.”

“But why did you have to
kill
him?” Hayley asks. “He was a good man. A
great
man.”

“He knew things about me that no one else knew.
Things that would ruin me. And he threatened to reveal them if I didn’t go along with his story. My career would have been ruined. But when I was chasing him, he tossed his backpack into the woods and I couldn’t find it. It wasn’t just the camera that I wanted. His journal contained all his notes, including how to find this place. I’m no sailor; I knew I could never find it again on my own, even though I somehow managed to find my way back to civilization without him the last time.”

“I think I get it now,” says Hetty. “You knew
we
would find it. Hayley and Hetty Mettleson
always
find what they’re looking for, right?”

“Precisely,” says Charlie with an evil grin. “When I heard you were on the trail of the professor, I pretended to work for that cable channel so I could tag along. And now here we are. These are enough to make me rich.” She holds up the camera and journal.

“What about … us?” Hayley asks.

“Two more missing adventurers. The world will hardly notice.”

As Charlie aims her gun at Hayley, her finger on the trigger, a twig snaps in the thick brush behind her. She spins around and finds herself face to face with the Seaweed Strangler, played by a glaring, snarling, sort of terrifying-looking Nicholas. Before she can pull the trigger, however, he snatches the gun from her hand and throws it deep into the woods. Hayley and Hetty watch
in horror as the creature wraps a coil of seaweed around her neck. Charlie’s body slowly goes limp and drops to the ground in a heap.

“Uh-oh,” says Hayley as the Seaweed Strangler slowly turns to face her.

“Should we run for it?” Hetty asks.

“No! No sudden moves. Keep your hands up where he can see them.”

The Strangler stands perfectly still, only his eyes moving—from Hayley to Hetty and then back again to Hayley. After twenty seconds of staring down the two girls, he reaches out and ever so gently touches Hayley’s cheek. She resists the urge to scream and looks him directly in the eyes. He takes one small step back, touches his chest with his open palm, and then disappears into the woods.

In the movie’s final scene, the twins are back home, where they place the professor’s journal, his camera, and Charlie’s camera in a large iron safe. (Nick just happened to have an old one in his barn.)

“Are you sure about this?” Hetty asks.

“We’re doing the right thing,” says Hayley. “When I looked deep into the eyes of the Seaweed Strangler, I saw kindness and gentleness—not the monster that everyone assumes his kind to be. He deserves to be left alone. The professor was right. We owe it to him to honor his final wish.”

Hetty nods in agreement. “But what will we tell everyone?”

“We’ll think of something,” Hayley says. “We always do.”

She closes the safe, and the screen goes black, followed by:

* * *

“Bravo!” shouted Nick as the final credits came to a stop. Everyone else joined in, and much cheering, hand shaking, back patting, hair mussing, and picture taking followed.

Nicholas was hailed as the next Steven Spielberg, while Charlie and the twins were assured by all that their performances were worthy of Academy Awards and, quite possibly, Nobel Prizes.

“Dad deserves at least half the credit,” said Nicholas. “I mean, it was his idea in the first place.”

“He’s just being modest,” said Charlie. “Seriously, I think he’s some kind of genius or something. I was at my dad’s for a few days, and when I came back, he almost had the whole thing put together.”

“Like father, like son,” Franny said, with a nod in Will’s direction.

Will chuckled, pulling Nicholas close to him. “I’m not even in the same league with this guy.”

Hetty reminded everyone that it was time for dessert—blueberry pie and s’mores down at the beach. “C’mon, Daddy, I’ll show you how to make s’mores.”

The party moved down to the shore, where Nick stoked the beach fire with new wood. In minutes, it was perfect for roasting marshmallows. Not a single cloud obstructed the stars as the adults settled into beach chairs and the kids sat on towels on the warm sand.

“Touch of fall in the air tonight,” Nick said to Will and Franny, who had decades of catching up to do. “But you couldn’t ask for a prettier night.”

The three of them clinked glasses.

“No place like the lake,” said Will. “I’ve missed this place.”

A few feet away, Nicholas and Charlie set up an assembly line to manufacture s’mores for the younger kids. As Nicholas pressed the graham crackers down on the last bunch, Charlie nudged him in the ribs.

“So, my mom and your dad seem pretty happy to see each other, don’t you think?”

“Oh jeez. I
knew
you were going to say something.”

“Yeah, but I’m right, aren’t I? Look at them. It’s like they were never apart. Do you think she told him about the letter yet?”

Nicholas shook his head. “I doubt it. They’re probably just talking about us. Parents love to brag about their kids.”

Charlie’s mouth suddenly dropped open as she
looked out at Nick’s dock. “Oh no! Nicholas! Where’s Imp?” She was about to start for the dock when he grabbed her arm.

“Shhh! She’s safe. I moved her—so my dad wouldn’t see her until tomorrow. When I remembered that we would be coming back down here, I snuck out for a minute after the movie was over and moved her over to the far side of Mr. Jensen’s dock. I want it to be a surprise tomorrow.”

Charlie put her hand over her heart. “Whew! I was scared there for a second. Good thinking! You remember what Mom’s letter said?”

“I remember. So you have to get your mom to come back here in the morning. Say, ten o’clock. We can surprise them both.”

* * *

An hour later, Will tucked the twins into their bed, said good night to Nick, and rejoined Nicholas on the beach in the glow of the slowly dwindling fire.

“I’m really proud of you, Nicholas, and not just because of the movie, which really was amazing, by the way. It’s hard for me to believe I was only away for two months. You seem two
years
older. And I have a feeling I haven’t even scratched the surface of what you’ve been up to. Am I right?”

Nicholas smiled. “There’s a little more, I guess. You’ll see.”

Will leaned back in his chair and looked up at the moon, which was peeking around the edge of a line of fast-moving clouds. “I was thinking about you the other night,” he said. “It was a couple of weeks ago, I suppose. The days all run together after a while. I’d been up all night with a boy—a little younger than you, no family. He had malaria and was in pretty rough shape. He finally fell asleep at about three in the morning, and I walked outside to get some fresh air. Remember those phone calls we used to have, when I made you stand by the window and look at the moon? Well, when I got outside, that’s the first thing I saw, and at that moment, I wanted to talk to you more than anything in the world. It just wasn’t possible right then.”

“I know this sounds kind of hard to believe, but I think I know the night you’re talking about,” said Nicholas. “We were sitting up in
Goblin
’s cockpit—just me and Charlie—staring up at the moon and stars, and talking about how you can’t really see the stars in New York. I was telling her about those old phone calls, and then … I don’t know, I just got this weird feeling—like you were
there
somehow.… I told you it was hard to believe.”

Will touched Nicholas on his arm. “No, not at all.”

“Whatever happened with that boy—the one with malaria?” Nicholas asked, afraid of what the answer might be.

“A rare happy ending,” said Will. “An aunt showed up and took him home. He’ll be fine.”

“That’s good.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes before Will spoke again. “I shouldn’t have waited so long to bring you kids out here. I’m sorry. I should have been the one to teach you to sail. And I understand you can ride a bike, too.”

“It’s all right, Dad. Really. I learned a lot this summer—about a million different things. Even about
you
. But now that I have a few answers, it’s like I have more questions than ever.”

Will tilted his head back and laughed. “Welcome to
my
world, Nicholas.”