Dark Beach - By Lauren Ash Page 0,50

tea?”

“Tea?” It was the last thing Jenny had been expecting.

“Chamomile?”

“Eh ... sure. Sure. I’ll do that.”

“Go back and sit. I’ll bring it to you.”

The warm tea soothed her nerves a bit, and soon an elderly Hispanic nurse came out of the room. “She’s all cleaned up,” he said. “You may go in now.”

The odor was barely masked by a pungent floral spray, but it was better than nothing. Gerry lay flat on her back, her just-brushed white hair plastered to the pillow. The sound of an evening game show filled the room and the glare from the TV illuminated her face. She looked almost happy.

“Gerry, it’s me—Jenny. We met before?”

Gerry didn’t respond. She was mesmerized by the colors, the cheers, and the clapping. Kip clung to her mother’s side.

“It’s okay, honey. Go sit over there.”

Kip climbed onto the rickety chair in the corner and played with her doll.

Jenny approached the bedside. The rails were up. “What are you watching? I like game shows too.”

Gerry didn’t even blink.

How can you not blink? Jenny walked about the room and picked up a silver-framed photograph on the side dresser. It was a picture of Gerry with her late husband—the jetty behind them.

“You miss the beach house?” she asked.

“Yes,” Gerry answered, suddenly aware. “I do.”

Shocked, Jenny set the picture back down.

“I ... I meant to ask you,” Jenny said, sitting again. “Ron and I, we like the house too. We’re thinking of buying it off you. Do you know that? Did Rachael tell you?”

Gerry nodded.

“But I’m not sure,” Jenny continued. “I found these journals. They have all this crazy stuff. Something about an intruder, or a ghost maybe. I found them in the basement. There was a locked chest in there. I wondered...”

Gerry opened her mouth wide and lifted a shaking hand, pointing towards her dresser. “Kay.”

“Kay?” Jenny had no idea.

“Kay … Kay!”

The dresser had three small drawers along the top. Jenny opened each one, sifted through papers, hairbrushes, and crappy knick-knacks.

“Kay. Kay!” Gerry’s volume increased.

“It’s okay. Calm down. I’m looking.”

Jenny pulled the drawers out and dumped the contents on top of the dresser. A single key bounced off and hit the ground. Gerry pointed to it.

“Key! I get it,” said Jenny, picking it up and carrying it over to the bed.

“Yours.” Gerry smiled and pressed it into her hand, closing Jenny’s fingers around it.

“What is it for?”

“W-w-will,” the old lady stammered. “No Rachael.” She coughed up a glob of sputum and licked it off her lip.

Jenny winced. “Is it for the house?” she asked, examining the key.

“Mmmm. Hex,” Gerry murmured, putting one hand up to shield her eyes from light streaming through the windows. “Will.”

Jenny moved to the window to pull shut the peach-colored printed curtains.

“No way. No way!” She gasped, quickly pulled the curtains shut, and put her hand to her forehead. After a deep breath, she cracked the curtain open again. It was hard to see; the sun was setting. Still, she was sure she could make out a tall figure wearing a long black trench coat and high-topped black boots. He was looking in her SUV window. His hood was up and his hands were barely touching the glass.

“Oh no, it’s him. Oh no.” Jenny started pacing.

Gerry’s eyes lost their spark again. She started squirming in the bed, yanking her arms against her restraints and moaning. The bed shook as she tried, harder and harder, to free her arms.

“Don’t you start now.” What a nightmare. I’m stuck in a nightmare. Jenny checked the window again. He was still standing there.

Gerry started up a distorted howling as the game show music intensified once again.

Kip stopped playing.

“Honey, turn the other ... don’t watch. Just turn. Nana is upset.”

“Mamma.” Kip curled into a ball.

“What is it, Gerry?” Jenny pulled up the old woman’s blankets.

The violent shaking continued, and Gerry pushed the blankets back down.

“What is it?”

Gerry looked right at her, her eyes wide, mouth open, wrinkled skin stretched to the maximum.

“Is it the TV? Do you not like this show anymore? Do you want me to change the channel?”

There was no remote that Jenny could see, so she stood on tiptoes to switch the channel to a quieter nature show—a lioness with her cubs. “Better?”

Gerry’s resistance slowed, but she kept up the God-awful sound.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. Calm down.” Jenny patted her greasy white hair. “There, there. You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

Gerry stopped, soothed, and went back to staring, this time at the wall.

“Dinner time.” The nurse opened the door and pulled Gerry’s