The Fog of Forgetting (7 page)

“I heard the horn,” a man shouted. In moments, he materialized in front of them. Chase had to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing clearly. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and shirtless, with brown knots of hair that fell to his shoulders and graying fuzz on his weathered chin. A green cloth was wrapped several times around his waist, and a thick leather harness was slung across his chest, from which hung several tools at odd angles, as well as a small ax and a slingshot. At his side was a squared metal blade—a machete—hanging off a woven leather belt. The man did not smile, but bent his arm up again in greeting, bringing it chest-high this time, fingers splayed and the palm facing them.

“I am Seaborne,” he said, and nodded to the boat. “I see you lads have run aground.”

Knox looked at Seaborne's upraised hand, then at Chase, and then back at Seaborne, palm still raised. Knox hesitated, then gave it a high five. The man, Seaborne, made a wry face and lowered his hand.

“I'm Knox, and these are my brothers, Chase and Teddy. Our boat got lost in the fog,” Knox explained.

“Did it, now? I wonder.”

Chase swallowed. He looked up into Seaborne's face. His eyes were light green, almost gray in the overcast, and he looked to be about their father's age, maybe a little older.

“Sorry. We can call someone to come get us if you have a phone.”

Seaborne suddenly smiled—a warm, encouraging smile. His eyes strayed to the boat and Teddy encased in life jackets. He cocked his head at the sight but remained silent.

“Where are we?” asked Chase.

Seaborne rubbed the seam of his harness with his thumb and looked out at the fog sitting on the horizon.

“That is not the easiest question to answer, but I can tell you this: You are on the southwestern shore of the island of Ayda, in the land of Melor.”

Chase shifted uneasily. He'd never heard of an island called Ayda anywhere near Fells Harbor. He took a half-step back toward Teddy, his eyes never leaving the machete. This was one of those freaky moments with strangers that parents warn you about, but they had no choice. They
had
to talk to this guy. Maybe he was friendly-crazy, not psycho-crazy.

“Uh, we're not planning on staying. Our parents will be looking for us. We'll be off your property as soon as we can call them.”

Again, Seaborne's eyes strayed toward the horizon, or what would have been the horizon, were it not engulfed by fog.

“You will find it is not so easy to find Ayda, nor leave once you have strayed onto her shores.” Then, as if coming back to himself, he gestured at their boat “But perhaps your story will have a different ending than mine. We shall see. Now, let me examine your vessel.” He strode past Chase, Knox, and Teddy, toward the boat. As he passed, they saw a long, steel scabbard strapped to his back, and what looked to be an enormous sword with a leather pommel.

“Do you see that?” gurgled Knox.

“A machete
and
a sword! Great. That's perfect. SO glad I came out on the boat, Knox,” whispered Chase. He began mentally ticking off options again. They should probably run for it, as bad a runner as he was. He scanned the beach; it was hemmed in on three sides by cliff and the fourth by water and fog. The only way out was up the steep cliffside. They'd never be able to climb fast enough. The panic he'd felt earlier in the boat began to bubble up again, but before it boiled over, Knox had shoved a rock into his hand. Teddy had a small rock, too.

“Aim for his head. If we knock him out, we may have enough time to get away,” said Knox, holding a rock of his own. “On my count—”

“What if we miss?” whispered Chase.

“Don't miss!”

They ratcheted back their arms. Seaborne, oblivious to them, was squatted down with his nose an inch from the fiberglass hull, muttering to himself.

“One … two … THREE!” Knox hissed.

The boys chucked the rocks as hard as they could. Teddy's landed short, but Chase's and Knox's sailed through the air, right on target. Just before the moment of impact, Seaborne stood and caught a rock in each hand, as easily as if he were playing catch.

“Well, at least we didn't miss,” groaned Knox.

Seaborne placed the rocks on the ground and was on the boys in three strides, his expression dark and scowling.

“I—I,” Knox stammered.

Seaborne held up a hand, cutting him off.

“The first thing you must learn in Ayda is who your enemies are. The second—never underestimate them.” Seaborne's fingers traced the wooden hilt of the machete at his hip as he considered the boys, eyes roaming between them. Teddy whimpered. Knox stuffed the collar of his T-shirt into his mouth. Chase held his breath. After several exruciating seconds, Seaborne sighed and dropped his hand.

“I am not the enemy, lads.”

Chase exhaled.

“Thorry, Mr. Theaborne,” said Teddy, still wrapped in life preservers.

The edges of Seaborne's mouth twitched up.

“And that is lucky for you with such an ill-considered attempt. Rocks are unreliable weapons. Should you ever need to use them again, wield them with your hands—like a club.” He demonstrated by chopping his hand at Chase's temple, playfully. Chase winced, then took a surprisingly deep breath. His brain had shut down but for three words: Get. Help. Now.

“Umm, Mr. Seaborne, uh, we'd just as soon get going. So would you mind, I mean—please—could we use a phone?”

Seaborne paced back toward the boat and climbed over the transom.

“If I knew what a phone was, I would be more than happy to get you one.”

Knox spit out his collar.

“A TELE-phone. The thing you use to call people? To talk from a distance?” He pantomimed holding an imaginary reciever up to his ear and pushing some imaginary buttons.

Seaborne shrugged, not even curious.

“I'm hungry!” said Teddy

“Are you, small one?” asked Seaborne. “Well, I may not have a telephone, but I do have food and drink. I'll be finished in just a moment.” Then he began asking questions.

Chase and Knox answered as best they could, with some help from Teddy, but their story felt loose in their heads, like rocks rattling in a tin can. When they got around to describing Evelyn and Frankie's departure from the beach, Seaborne grew agitated.

“They left how long ago?” he demanded.

“I don't know,” Chase replied. “Maybe an hour?”

Seaborne shook his head in dismay. “It's not safe for any of you to wander—”

“Why?”

“It is too dangerous.”

“Why? What's out there?” Chase asked again, eyes once again on the machete.

Seaborne didn't answer.

“So, uh, Seaborne,
where
is Ayda exactly?” asked Knox, trying a different tack.

“I don't know.”

“Oh-kay.” Knox exhaled dramatically, rolling his eyes at Chase, “let me get this straight. You don't know where you live?”

Seaborne gave him a sharp look.

“I have told you where I live. What I cannot tell you is where,
exactly
, the island of Ayda is. I came here a long time ago—when I was a boy not much older than that one there.” He nodded to Teddy. “There may be a map somewhere that can tell you where Ayda lies in relation to everything that is known to you, but I have never seen it. Nor do I now remember clearly anything else that was once known to me.” He ran his finger along the gunwale of the boat and chucked his chin toward the sea. “It is the fog. It makes you forget.”

Knox mouthed the word
cuckoo
to Chase.

Chase rubbed his eyes again, getting impatient.

“So, you came here when you were a kid?”

“Yes; not here, precisely, but to Ayda. I came ashore east of here, in the neighboring land of Metria.”

“And you stayed? By yourself? What about your family? Your friends?”

A shadow crossed over Seaborne's face, and he frowned. “I have told you, I do not remember much of anyone who once mattered to me,” he said.

“I don't want to forget Mommy and Daddy!” yelled Teddy.

“Shhh, Teddy, he's only joking,” said Chase, but he had the sinking feeling that Seaborne was being completely serious. “Do you have a boat?” he tried again, desperate.

“I did. Once.”

“Where is it?”

“At the bottom of the sea.”

Chase smacked his own forehead in frustration. Compared to this guy, he was a born conversationalist.

“I can't believe this fog,” said Knox, staring at the line where the horizon should have been. “When's it gonna burn off?”

“It never burns off,” answered Seaborne, climbing out of the boat. He had gathered everything he could from the Whaler: boat hook, cushions, radio—even the old pair of sunglasses from the cubby in the console—and used the bowline to tie it all in a tidy bundle, a network of veins flexing across his muscled forearms. He lifted it to his shoulder. “The fog is always there. I've never seen it change, except when it crowds in at dusk.”

“But if it never burns off, how does anyone go back and forth?” gulped Chase.

“They don't. Not usually. You are the first people from beyond the fog I've seen since I came here myself.” He smiled again, that sudden, warm smile that seemed so out of place with the rest of him. “It's nice to have company of my own kind.”

Seaborne walked past them, toward the white lights on the cliff, glowing dimly in the haze. He began to climb, scaling the cliff as easily as if he were crossing the street.

“Coming?” he called down.

Chase and Knox exchanged glances. What else could they do? They let Teddy go first, still wrapped in life preservers, and moving slowly. Seaborne was waiting for them at the top, the bundle of possessions at his feet. Chase saw it and mentally kicked himself for making no objection to him stripping the boat. Another careless mistake. He bent over to catch his breath, more out of habit than necessity.

“Who else lives here?” he asked.

“Ayda has many inhabitants,” said Seaborne.

Chase lifted his head.
Progress
. “Where do
they
live?”

“Well, some of them live here, in Melor. Others live in other lands.”

Chase exhaled loudly. Not much progress. At this rate, Teddy would be a teenager before they got any real answers.

Knox was fiddling with a stone he'd brought with him from the beach. He held it a minute, then pitched it over the cliff. Teddy watched it fly until it disappeared and landed with a distant
thwack
.

Seaborne grimaced and picked up the bundle. “You're very sure of yourself, aren't you, lad?”

Knox tried to come up with a smart reply, but came up short.

Seaborne considered the three boys for a moment. “There are forces at work in Ayda that are not always visible to the eye—or particularly friendly. Take nothing for granted,” he said seriously.

A shiver went down Chase's spine. Was it his imagination, or was the fog getting thicker? He turned away from the cliff's edge. The white lights led inland and disappeared in the murk several hundred feet down the path. The air was thick and quiet, as if the fog had absorbed all the normal sounds and smells of the forest. For the third time that day, he felt afraid.

“It is a mystery, to be sure, your presence here,” Seaborne continued, looking directly at Chase. “Boats do not idly wash up on Ayda's shore. Indeed, it is hardly possible—” He broke off and dove ahead into the woods, stopping once more to watch as Teddy tried to dig his way out of his life-preserver suit. His mouth twitched again.

“'Tis a strange costume young ones now wear beyond the fog.”

Teddy froze.

Seaborne stooped down to help him out of the last life preserver.

“Tell me, little man, would you like to see my home?”

Teddy nodded, the little braids in his hair standing straight up.

Seaborne's laugh rang out in the gloom.

“Good! I am glad.”

T
his place looks just like Fells Harbor, only the trees are bigger,” Knox insisted. He was trying to convince Chase that they were safe on one of the outer islands. “Look at how tall those suckers are.” He pointed with his thumb to a massive tree trunk the size of a boulder.

Chase gave his brother a tight smile. Maybe Knox was right. Maybe they weren't far from Summerledge … but something in his gut told him otherwise. Mist was clinging to the ground and snaking around their ankles and between the trees, hungrily moving inland. Only the regular spacing of the white lights along the path kept them from being completely lost—swallowed up by the fog. As it was, they couldn't see Seaborne and the sword strapped to his back anymore.

“Stick close, Teddy,” Chase said nervously.

“D'ya think he's ditching us?” whispered Knox. “He's crackers, but he's better than no one.”

Before Chase could reply, Seaborne's voice boomed out of the mist.

“Would you lads tighten line and heave to?”

They picked up the pace and rounded a steep C-shaped curve that led across a footbridge, which spanned a broad stream and took them into a clearing. At its center stood a small cabin that looked airlifted from a fairy tale. It had log walls and a pitched roof blanketed in thick layers of dried moss and grass. One end of the cabin was taken up completely by a stone chimney. At the other end, a large, slow-turning waterwheel churned in the stream. Seaborne stood at the door of the cabin, on a low, flat rock that served as his stoop; to his right was a small window cut into the wall. He lifted the door open on its leather hinges and went inside.

“Cool!” crowed Teddy, racing ahead.

“Whoa,” said Knox. “Where's the witch?”

“Who needs a witch, when you have
him
,” said Chase, eyes darting around the clearing. “Do you think Evelyn and Frankie came here?”

The small lamps lighting the path were flickering weakly now, like wicks drowning in melted wax. The one directly beside them sputtered, flared, then died. As eerie as the light had been, the forest was blacker and seemed damper without it.

“Are you coming in or not?” asked Seaborne, poking his grizzled head out the door.

Chase and Knox exchanged looks of resignation. Teddy was already inside. Reluctantly, they picked up their feet and followed.

The interior of the cabin was dim and musty. The sound of falling water from the churning waterwheel filled the air. A quick inspection revealed that there were no telephones, lights, or indoor plumbing. The fireplace took up most of the wall on the left, and a metal arm stuck out from the rocks that made up the hearth. Across from the door was a bed set sideways against the wall. Next to the bed there were a number of pegs in the wall on which hung shapeless lumps of clothing.

Seaborne removed his harness, knife belt, and sword and stowed them at the door. Then, he pulled an intact clamshell from deep beneath the folds of cloth around his waist. Stooping by the fireplace, he gently opened the shell and took out a still-glowing coal and placed it on the tinder that lay there. He carefully blew on the spark until it caught and blazed brightly. The fire crackled, flames throwing a dancing orange glow against the wall of the cabin. The damp air retreated.

“How'd you do that?” Knox asked, impressed.

Seaborne handed him the clamshell. Inside, other orange-tinged coals smoldered on a nest of fresh seaweed.

“ 'Tis called an ember chamber. Saves the effort of starting from scratch each time.” He took back the shell and leaned in toward the fire, staring into the flames. The combination of the sound from the waterwheel together with the light of the fire made the cabin feel cozy—homey, even. Teddy's stomach growled loudly.

Seaborne lifted his head. “Ah yes, I'd promised the little one some supper. I'll fetch us something to eat.”

“We need to go look for the girls,” Chase cut in, noticing that it was getting very dark outside.

Seaborne frowned, strapping on his harness with rough movements. “They'll be safe enough tonight. There's no point trying to look for them now. It will have to wait until morning.” He pulled open the door. “I'll be back shortly—don't leave the cabin.” He stepped out into the night, machete in hand, and shut the door firmly on its hinges.

“That guy is certifiable,” Knox said, “and what's with the skirt?” His eyes roamed around the small room. “But so far, so good, I guess—though I feel bad about Evelyn and Frankie. I wonder where they went. Do you think maybe he knows, but he doesn't want to say? Maybe he has them locked up somewhere and he's lying about it. Maybe we're next.”

“Shut up, Knox,” hissed Chase, chucking his chin in Teddy's direction.

Chase's thoughts were swimming around in his head. All he wanted was to collapse on the bed, but Knox was right. They couldn't just abandon Evelyn and Frankie in the dark for the entire night without at least trying to look for them. He took a deep breath and forced himself to go outside. He strained to see through the lengthening shadows falling across the clearing. To his surprise, Seaborne was crouched by the stream. Chase approached him.

“What do you mean, Evelyn and Frankie are safe enough?”

“I mean exactly that. It is too late in the day to begin a search.”

“Are they in danger?”

Seaborne was quiet for a moment, then answered. “No more than you were when you first landed, and, perhaps, no more than you will be in the future. It is difficult to say.”

Chase noted the deepening gloom of the forest, held momentarily at bay by the last rays of light in the sky and the orange glow radiating from the door of the cabin.

“Well, that's reassuring,” he said, scornfully. He was getting tired of Seaborne's evasive answers. “Look, we really need to find Evelyn and Frankie and find a phone. Our mother is going to lose her mind. Her older brother got lost in the fog and never came back.” Chase kicked at the dirt. “Listen, you gotta believe me—my mom is freaking out! She probably has the Coast Guard and the Navy and the Marines out there right now. We just need to call someone or send up a signal or something. There's got to be
someone
around here who will help us.”

Seaborne looked up from his crouch with a strange, vacant expression.

“Not won't.
Can't
.”

“Why? Why can't you help us?” Chase demanded, his voice rising higher. “Why are you here? And where is everyone else? What have you done with the girls?” He was half-wheezing, half-shouting now, the beast in his chest roaring to life—finally. His lungs tightened, his heart knocked against his ribs. He felt dizzy and hot. There wasn't much time before it took over. He had to make Seaborne understand … what? That they needed to get home? That he was having trouble keeping his thoughts in one place? That he was tired of being scared? He shook his head, closing his eyes, trying to clear his mind. When he opened them again, everything seemed to pulsate and move in the darkness. He sucked in air, but it was like breathing through a straw. An image of his missing inhaler came to mind. It usually hung on the doorknob of his room at home.
Home
. He tried to picture Summerledge. His parents. But it was as if the only thing that was real was here, now: Seaborne. The rustle of branches. The smell of pine. The chug of the waterwheel. Chase's body pitched forward.

“We have to get out of here,” he whimpered.

He was aware of hands catching him, arms cradling him. His head lolled back and he saw the first glimmer of the evening's stars above the clearing. Then everything went black.

When Chase came around, he was lying on Seaborne's bed. Knox and Teddy were ogling him from the side.

“What happened?” he asked groggily.

Knox grinned. “You passed out. Seaborne brought you back around by holding this under your nose!” He held out a handful of bright green leaves topped with yellow flowers. They smelled strongly of cat urine.

“Ugh,” said Chase, wrinkling his nose.

“Yeah, I know, but it worked.” Knox took a whiff and made a face; he went to the window and chucked them outside.

“I helped, too!” said Teddy. “I wath pinching you!” He grabbed the skin on Chase's forearm and gave it a big nip.

“Ow, Tedders! Stop it!” Chase sat up. His stomach gave a lurch but his lungs were clear. “Where's Seaborne?” he asked, a little sheepishly. He had never fainted before during an asthma attack, but then again, he'd always had his inhaler.

“I don't know,” Knox replied, sitting on the bed. “He carried you back in here, went out and got the stinkweed, told me to shove it under your nose, and then left again, saying the usual.”

“The usual?”

“You know,” Knox scrunched up his brow. “‘Don't leave the cabin. Don't go outside.' What is
up
with this place? All this doom and gloom is freaking me out, and you getting carried in here all blue didn't help.” He looked anxiously at Chase. “What are we going to do when that guy walks back in here?” Knox nodded toward the door. “He could be out there getting a pot to boil us in. And check this out: I think he's military.”

Knox plucked a piece of clothing off a peg by the bed and brought it over to Chase. It was a long, old-fashioned blue jacket, threadbare and moldy, with a few remaining gold-metal buttons and arms that were stained brown, but even in its decayed state it looked official.

“Plus, he's got that sword.” Knox prowled the small confines of the room, chewing on his collar. “We're sitting ducks in here! I say we make a break for it. Whatever's out there, I'd rather take our chances.”

“And go where?” Chase asked, swinging his legs onto the floor. He was feeling better. “We don't have flashlights or anything.”

Knox rolled his eyes. “No flashlights? Okay, Mom.”

“I think if he wanted to kill us, he would have done it by now.”

“You're right about that, lad.” Seaborne's voice boomed through the window, startling them. He opened the door and tossed a pair of skinned rabbits on the floor. “Put these on the fire—I have another errand to run. Stay put.” He closed the door again.

Stunned into silence, Knox did as he was told, threading the rabbits as best he could onto the iron spit and sliding them over the fire. Soon, a rich, meaty aroma filled the room.

“Well, at least we have food,” said Knox.

“And a bed!” said Teddy, who was dangling upside down from the edge of the low mattress.

“And a—” Chase was about to add
fire
, when a loud snort interrupted him. It came from outside, and was quickly followed by another great snuffling noise through the crack where the door didn't quite meet the floor.

“Oh man,” cried Knox, hurling himself against the opposite wall. “What's that?”

“I don't know, but whatever it is, it sounds big.”

The sniffing got louder and more persistent, this time punctuated by a menacing growl. Chase's heart pounded in his ears.

“Knox,” he whispered, “we should hold the door shut.”

They tiptoed across the floor toward the door. Teddy followed.

“Get back on the bed, Teddy,” hissed Chase.

Teddy leapt back on the bed. The sound stopped abruptly.

“I wish I had my cap gun,” Knox whispered.

Thhwunk!
The door slammed open, almost ripped off its hinges, and an impossibly large, mud-colored beast bounded into the cabin, knocking Knox and Chase to the floor. Two black eyes shone in the firelight above a square, wiry snout and a wide mouth that was dripping with saliva. Its fur was matted and greasy and its eyes were locked on the two boys lying spread-eagled on the ground.

“What does rabies look like?” asked Knox.

“Pretty much like that, I think,” answered Chase.

A low, throaty growl rumbled up from the beast.

“We have to lure it away from Teddy,” whispered Chase. He rolled over onto his hands and knees and began to crawl slowly backwards toward the open door behind them, making clucking noises.

“They're not ducks!” Knox protested in a hoarse whisper.

The animal responded by leaning back in a crouch, ready to spring.

Knox scuttled crab-like toward the door and accidentally smacked Chase hard in the cheek with his foot. They both tumbled backwards in a heap on the doorstep. Chase poked his head across the threshold.

“Don't move, Ted. STAY ON THE BED.”

“Okay,” came his brother's weak reply.

“Now what do we do?” muttered Chase. His heart was pounding in his chest, but oddly, his lungs felt clear. For now. Just then, another growl came rumbling across the footbridge, higher-pitched and, if possible, even more hair-raising.

“Seaborne?” Knox squeaked.

Chase's eyes adjusted until he could just make out another large beast sitting patiently at the footbridge, waiting, as though it had all the time in the world.