The Peculiar Case of the Red Tide Read online

  “You really haven’t been sleeping much, have you?” Agnes observed, the worried edge to her voice obvious. Izzy rumbled a laugh, reaching out to fiddle with my radio dials. She didn’t seem to plan on replying, instead turning the radio up a bit and smiling to herself.

  “It’s too quiet when I try to sleep. I’m alone with this big dumb brain of mine, and I’m too busy worrying to sleep,” she admitted in a manner that was intended to be casual, although her voice broke a bit towards the end.

  “What happened to big beautiful brain?” I joked, trying to mask my concern.

  “That’s reserved for you and Aggie, little Bean. We can’t all be so fortunate,” she replied with a faint smile. “What kind of snacks do you two want, anyway? Standard fare is like... tortilla chips and meat sticks. I usually go for something a little sweeter, but if savory is your thing, I’m willing to accomodate,” she continued, as if it were the most natural segue in conversation in the world. Agnes hummed for a moment, seeming to think over the question. She met my gaze through the rearview mirror, raising her brow slightly. At least I wasn’t the only one who was confused

  “Get whatever you think is appropriate. I’m not the most well versed in road trip culture,” Agnes said decisively, and Izzy sat up a bit, turning to look in the back seat.

  “Budget?” She inquired, looking intrigued by the prospect of having her choice of snacks.

  “No budget. I know I’ll regret that decision, but I’m not sure what’s appropriate,” the older woman mused, seeming pleased by how delighted Isabella was.

  “Like a kid in a candy store, Aggie. Literally. I’m giving you the chance to revoke that decision. I think that’s pretty magnanimous of me,” Isabella grinned, her tone a touch daring. It was somewhat troubling how swiftly she shifted from one mood to the next, but at the very least she appeared to be somewhat happy.

  “Do your worst. Get fifty on pump three while you’re in there,” Agnes ordered as I pulled to a stop in front of a gas pump. I watched with wide eyes as Agnes handed over a shimmering gold credit card, and Izzy held it almost reverently for a moment before launching out of the car. She hobbled much more quickly than I’ve ever seen her hobble, and I rolled the window down so I could speak to Agnes while pumping gas.

  “Are you sure that was wise?” I chuckled, beginning to pump gasoline into my old, beat up ride. Agnes shrugged, making a noncommittal little sound. “She says you remind her of her mom, you know,” I said quietly, not knowing the consequences of revealing the information. Agnes might have been offended, but she only breathed a sigh, her eyes getting slightly glassy before she squeezed them shut. She shook her head, taking a calming breath before opening her eyes once more. The abundance of emotion I’d seen in her eyes had faded somewhat, but there was still a trace.

  “I’ve never been able to have children of my own. That’s... rather sweet. She’ll kill you for telling me as much, I’m sure,” Agnes said with a smile, glancing towards the gas station. I sighed, finishing up at the pump before getting back in the car.

  “Yeah, that’s what she told me. She doesn’t seem to deal with her emotions well,” I observed, watching the doors of the station as well. I could see Agnes nodding thoughtfully from the corner of my eye, parting my lips to speak before she suddenly shushed me.

  “Here she comes. Act natural,” she hissed. I rolled my eyes, getting a bit fed up with all the secrecy. I couldn’t get a response out before the passenger door swung open, and Isabella leaned in to deposit several bags that seemed packed to the brim. She had half a candy bar dangling from her mouth, handing the largest bag back to Agnes.

  “I got some stuff I thought you might like. My favorite are the sour apple candies, but I figured you more of the lemony type,” Isabella grinned, edging into the car and handing me a bag as well. “And I got you the spicy chicharrones. Other stuff too, but I know you like those,” she added, rummaging through her own bag. She paused, handing the credit card back to Agnes with a chagrined smile. “I had to use your card for the gas, but I covered the rest with the cash I had left from working in Naples. I wanted to cover it all, but...,” she trailed off, looking between the two of us with a rather alarmed expression. I imagine it had something to do with the fact that Agnes and I both looked as if we were about to burst into tears. I was touched by the gesture, in spite of how small it might have seemed to an outsider. I knew Agnes was of a similar mindset in that respect.

  “Thank you, dear,” Agnes murmured, reaching out to squeeze Isabella’s shoulder.

  “Yeah. Thanks dear,” I said teasingly, opting to ignore the crack in my voice. Isabella stared at us for a moment before laughing, digging back into her bag.

  “You two act like I’m dying or something,” she mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate. Though I knew she had a point, and that the reactions on our part were a bit dramatic, neither Agnes or I knew how far that thought was from the truth.

  I could only pray we were fretting over nothing.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Wow. Aggie, color me impressed. I thought you couldn’t surprise me at this point in our relationship, but then you bring us here,” Isabella mused from the passenger seat as I pulled into the driveway of the cabin we were apparently staying in. I couldn’t say I particularly disagreed with Izzy, considering the dilapidated shape of the building. It looked like it hadn’t been stayed in or maintained for years, and I was almost worried about what we would find inside.

  “You insisted on coming, you don’t really have any place to complain about the lodging,” Agnes sighed, slipping out of the backseat and stretching her arms out over her head. “If every road trip is filled with that much junk food, I can’t say I particularly care for the culture,” she added, glancing at Isabella as she dragged herself out of the car.

  “Well no one said you had to eat the whole bag. You don’t have to bring my lifestyle into it,” Izzy said dismissively, receiving a sharp exhale in response. At least they were back to something resembling normalcy. I got out of the car last, taking a moment to stretch my legs. We’d spent hours in the cramped vehicle, eating so many snacks that it looked like a ten year old had been given a two hundred dollar budget and told to go wild—which wasn’t that far from the truth, granted Izzy had bought the treats on her own dime.

  “I didn’t want to seem rude,” Agnes said primly, grabbing her bags from the trunk as soon as I popped it open. Izzy snorted, grabbing her own bag and striding towards the cabin to investigate the area.

  “Hear that, little Bean? Aggie didn’t want to seem rude. That’s rich. I think she just got stuck on those lemon chews,” Isabella called out, and I had to swallow a laugh. Agnes had been particularly fond of the snacks that had been provided, and though much of the ride was spent singing loudly along with songs we knew on the radio, Agnes claimed she didn’t know the words and simply busied herself with her sugary treats. I was fairly certain that the older woman simply didn’t want to sing along, as I’d never heard her actually sing in the time I’d known her.

  “You two are already bickering, and we just got out of the car. Is this what we have to look forward to for the duration of our stay?” I asked, a bit annoyed but not quite for the reasons I’d implied. I was, admittedly, disappointed with the state of our lodging. I’d expected a nice vacation place, not some run down shack in the middle of nowhere.

  “Try living with her,” Agnes said with a sigh, watching as Isabella picked something up off the ground. “Don’t touch that! You don’t even know where it’s been or... what it is, for that matter,” the oldest of our trio called out, rushing over to slap at Izzy’s hand.

  “It looks like a snake skin,” Izzy observed, turning it over in her hands and making a disgusted face. “At least we shouldn’t have any rodents to deal with. I hate rats,” she added as an afterthought, finally obliging Agnes and tossing the filthy thing to the ground. I shuddered as I drew closer, noting that the skin looked much too large to be your average garden snake.


  “Do you think there are any snakes inside?” I inquired nervously, watching as Agnes poured some hand sanitizer on Isabella’s extended hands. The overly familiar scene wasn’t as amusing as I would usually find it, even as Isabella shook a glob of the substance off on the older woman’s shoes. Isabella might have hated rats, but I was terrified of snakes. Something about their beady little eyes just sickened me—and those little flicky tongues! “Ugh,” I muttered, shuddering.

  “I’m most certain that the inside is pristine. Robert made a point of stopping by and tidying up, as well as stocking the kitchen with groceries,” Agnes said with a huff, walking towards the door. “Honestly, Abigail, afraid of snakes? I would have expected much more from you—”

  “Oh Lordy, there's one!” Izzy interrupted in a shout, flinging something at Agnes as the older woman screamed and flinched away. My heart stopped for a moment, but as Isabella began to cackle, Agnes threw the supposed snake back at her with a growl. I edged closer, chuckling as I realized that it was just a length of some old hose pipe. “Pot, meet kettle,” Isabella announced, wiping her hands on her pants and following Agnes inside. I lingered outside for a moment, considering the outside appearance of our lodging for a bit longer. Surely the inside had to make up for the disappointment of first seeing the place. I stepped inside, making a face as I realized that, no, the inside was not any better. The furniture looked old as the hills, with springs and stuffing sticking out of the sofa Isabella was prodding at. Agnes was unpacking her bags, placing her books on a dusty coffee table while I approached Isabella and scrutinized the sofa as well. I made a face and Isabella abruptly slapped her hand against one of the cushions. A plume of dust shot up, hitting us both in the face.

  “Ugh, dust,” I muttered, glaring at the dark haired woman as I tried to spit the remnants out of my mouth.

  “Please, Abigail, show some decorum. We do not spit inside,” Agnes piped up, caring very little about what Isabella and I were doing otherwise.

  “Like a bit of saliva is going to hurt this place. Might even brighten it up a bit, really do something for the interior design,” Isabella said in a serious voice, and I couldn’t help but laugh as Agnes huffed and shuffled towards another room. “Aww, Aggie, I’m just fooling around,” Izzy called out, trailing behind her. I, on the other hand, wasn’t any more thrilled about seeing the rest of the cabin than I had been about pulling into the driveway in the first place. I liked to think I was pretty low maintenance, but this was simply unacceptable. There was little to do about the situation, however, besides exploring the place a little. There was a ladder leading to a small loft bedroom from the looks of it, and I made the executive decision that Izzy could stay up there. I certainly wasn’t taking a chance on climbing those rickety rungs, although it might have been a bit unfair to send the handicapped person up a ladder. On second thought, Agnes could spend her nights up in the drafty loft. It was her beautiful vacation home, after all.

  “I wonder if there are any hotels nearby,” I muttered, reaching into my pocket to grab my phone. Of course, there was no service. Perfect. Not that I could have convinced Agnes to stay in some cheap hotel room, anyway, and it appeared I would be providing transportation for the duration of our trip. Lucky me. Deciding to at least try and be positive, I wandered into the kitchen where Isabella and Agnes had disappeared off into. Isabella was rummaging through the cabinets, on her knees on top of the dusty counter. Agnes was watching with a bemused expression, sneaking another lemon chew out of her bag. “You guys having fun in here?” I asked in an attempt to sound cheerful, though I mostly sounded sarcastic. Agnes hummed, too refined to speak with a mouthful of candy.

  “Oh, yeah. A real blast,” Izzy called from the inside of a cabinet, crying out and windmilling her arms as she nearly lurched back off of the counter. “Do you know how many spiders I’ve killed already? The ruins were pristine compared to this place,” she sighed breathlessly as she managed to catch herself.

  “It’s not as if there’s any need to keep the place up. I come out here so rarely,” Agnes said sourly.

  “Please, tell me you’ve been paying the water bill,” I groaned, resting my hip against the counter that Isabella had dropped into a seated position upon. Agnes rolled her eyes, turning on the faucet and nearly retching as a gush of brown water spurted into the sink. “Fantastic. I guess getting a shower is out of the question, then,” I sighed.

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. The water will clear up after it’s been running for a little while. It just has to get all of this—,” Agnes paused, gesturing to the still gushing brown water. “Out of its system,” she finished, not sounding nearly as certain as I would have hoped.

  “You can always wash up with Aggie’s trusty hand sanitizer,” Isabella said sardonically, making a face as if she’d caught whiff of something smelly. Which, apparently, she had, because I soon caught whiff as well. “The water even smells bad. Come on! How are we supposed to live like this?” Izzy cried out, turning the faucet off with a cringe.

  “It smells like sewage, Agnes. Literally fecal matter,” I whined, realizing I was being petulant, but really, could it get any worse?

  “Stop being so melodramatic, both of you! Do you know that for centuries, people had to live without running water? We’ll just wash up in the lake, and—” she paused, realizing her mistake a bit too late.

  “The lake. The lake that has been mysteriously dyed red. I’d rather not go bald from chemical exposure, but thanks for the thrilling offer, Aggie,” Isabella drawled.

  “You would not go bald! If anything, it might add to your longevity, and I’ll be forced to deal with your for even longer,” Agnes bit out. Izzy snickered, seeming nonplussed by the scathing remark. I was curious, however.

  “You think the chemical has something to do with increasing the lifespan of the fish? I thought the lake just turned red recently. It would have to have been tainted for months for the charts to add up,” I mused, silencing their bickering for a moment, at least.

  “I think the lake has been tainted for months. It’s only recently hit the proper concentration of whatever chemical cocktail that’s being dumped into it, however. That’s my theory, at the very least,” Agnes said with a pensive expression. She looked a bit worried, as if she had revealed more than she intended, but before I could press the issue, Izzy slid off the counter and interrupted the conversation.

  “Okay, well, you guys can be nerds all you want. I want to see the bedrooms. I’m excited to see just how terrible they are,” she said with a sly grin.

  “You’re calling us nerds, and you were a tour guide for the Village of the Papyri. You’re like the definition of nerd,” I argued, giving her a teasing nudge.

  “‘I’m not a nerd. I’m adventurous. Which is why I want to see the full layout of this crap hole,” she announced grandly, approaching Agnes and grabbing her by the elbow. “Come on, Aggie. Cough up the goods, I want to see this trainwreck nice and proper,” she needled. Agnes frowned, but sighed and reluctantly tugged Izzy along.

  “Come along Abigail, I’ll show you the loft where you’ll be sleeping,” Agnes murmured. I groaned, throwing my arms up in the air.

  “Why do I have to stay up there!?” I demanded, trailing behind the two of them.

  “It’s the nicest bedroom in the cabin, Abigail. I should think you’d be thrilled,” Agnes said coolly, obviously tired of our complaining. Not that I could really blame her, but I wasn’t happy to be getting the short end of the stick. We came to a stop at the ladder that led up to the loft, and I offered Agnes one final, pleading look.

  “At least come up with me,” I begged, looking at Isabella with the most pathetic expression I could muster.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. The room is small, and Isabella could get hurt climbing the ladder,” Agnes said, easily brushing me off as she gestured to the ladder. I sighed, bracing myself on the rungs before climbing up. The ladder squeaked under my weight, and I was certain it would collapse in a mat
ter of moments. I managed to get up to the loft, and was surprised to see that it wasn’t as terrible as I might have expected. The linens looked clean at least, and the bed looked soft and cushy. I approached it, considering it appraisingly for a moment before turning my back to it and flopped back on the mattress. It was softer than I could have imagined, though there was something under the covers that made an uncomfortable lump against my back. I shifted a bit, my heart stopping when the lump began to move. There was the soft sound of hissing, and I leaped off of the bed with a shrill scream. There was the sound of conflict on the lower floor, and in about two point five seconds, Isabella lurched into the loft with a groan. I could hear Agnes downstairs admonishing her, apparently convinced I was playing a prank.

  “What’s wrong?” Isabella asked in a rush, struggling to get to her feet. Coming to my senses, I edged towards her and helped her to her feet.

  “Snake... there’s a snake in the bed,” I whispered in a hushed voice. Isabella laughed, shaking her head.

  “Aw, you got me good,” she replied, moving to shuffle back down the ladder.

  “I’m serious, Izzy! There’s a snake in my sheets. I heard it hissing,” I countered pleadingly, and she considered me for a moment before grimacing.

  “Ugh, really? Come on, this place is a dump,” she mumbled, approaching the bed and peeking under the sheets. There was a loud hiss, and Isabella shrieked, lurching back for a moment before bundling up the hissing menace in the sheets where it couldn’t bite her.

  “What are we going to do with it?” I screeched, watching in disbelief as an equally panicked Isabella rushed towards the window. She wrenched it open, without hesitation, tossing the bundled sheets out the window. We barely had the chance to breathe a sigh of relief before there was a masculine shout of fear.