Welcome, all! This is a limited serial set on Ferris Island.
If you haven’t already, check out Part One here before continuing!
NOTE: While this story does stand fully on its own, characters in this story can be found in the following tales, for those interested in learning more:
Ivy & Ixos (currently in our Archive)
The Last Resort (free to read)
The Uninvited Guest (free to read)
If you like this story, and you want to see more like it, please let me know with a like, comment, share, or restack!
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Ivy inhaled deeply as she stepped off the fourteen-seater shuttle bus into the parking lot of the Seavend Marina, Jake silent right behind her and Ethan and Bailey bringing up the rear, the two of them talking in animated fervor about some show that Ivy hadn’t seen, yet.
To Ivy, Seavend probably had the best smell of anywhere on the whole island, a mix of boat fuel and tidal pull and some freshness off the ocean that felt charged with distance, meaning. In summer, when the cafe would keep its doors open, the fragrance of ice cream and espresso would mingle with the ocean’s breath. The sense of invitation was irresistible.
The little seaside hamlet was quiet in the post-schoolday afternoon. The rain had given way to a tentative, pale sunlight, and there were few folks out and about, walking their dogs along the marina walkway in the spring freshness or pulling the first of the summer weeds from their overgrowing yards. A leafblower hummed invisibly, somewhere up in the hillside homes.
Ivy smiled, pleased with herself. This was perfect, the ideal way to ease Jake in. To see if she was right about him.
Jake stepped up abreast of her, looking around, soaking it up. It wouldn’t take long to do so; Seavend was tiny. Blink and you’ll miss it, as Ivy’s dad would often say.
“Where are we?” Jake asked.
“This is Seavend,” Ivy said. “It’s at the very north side of the island. Haven’t been here, yet?”
Jake shook his head.
“Well, we’re going that way,” Ivy said, pointing to the road that curved alongside the marina and away to the left, up the hill into the neighborhood of ramshackle cottages and cabins that made up the little community.
“Normally we would stop for snacks at the cafe, but I think we still have some in our stash,” Bailey said, by way of well-intentioned explanation.
If Jake wondered what she meant by this he did not ask, so Ivy led the way walking out of the parking lot, leaving the shuttle bus behind to idle and wait for a fresh crop of passengers ready to ride the loop back to Port Salish.
As they walked, Ivy was aware of Jake checking his phone nervously, pulling it out of his hoodie pocket every few paces, glowering down at it, and then slipping it back into place.
She didn’t want to embarrass him, so she waited until Ethan and Bailey were deep in their conversation again before she turned to Jake and asked, quietly, “Everything okay?”
“Oh. Yeah, no, it’s fine. Sorry.” He sighed, glanced over at her but wouldn’t make eye contact, shrugged his big shoulders. “My mom is at work and I just…want to make sure she gets my text about where I am. So she doesn’t worry.”
“I get that,” Ivy said, and she meant it. She and her parents were still finding the right balance of independence without letting her run completely unsupervised. Ferris Island was safe enough in the right places, but you just never know.
Jake indicated Ethan and Bailey with a good-humored tilt of his head. “They sure do talk a lot.”
Ivy laughed. “Yeah. They’re neighbors and grew up together, so they’re kinda attached at the hip. I’m used to not getting their inside jokes half the time. They’re like twins. Do you have any brothers and sisters?”
Jake shook his head. “No, just lots of cousins. Back in California.”
Ivy smiled. “That sounds fun.”
“Most of the time.” Jake shrugged again, an action that Ivy was beginning to suspect was a bit of a habit. “It can get kind of lonely, though. Like…there’s so much going on that no one really sees you. You can get…lost. You know?”
Ivy didn’t really know, because she was an only child and didn’t have any cousins that she knew of. But she could feel it, the pain in Jake’s voice, the sadness in his eyes. For such a big guy, he sure had a way of acting small. Ivy felt that tickle in her mind, again, that same one she had had back at school. An instinct. A whisper that she thought she could understand, if only she learned how to turn the volume up.
The first minute she set eyes on Jake Masoe she felt that there was something important about him. Something that she could help with.
She had been getting these feelings more and more, lately. Just little inklings about people, hunches. Someone had told her once that she would develop a knack, someday, and she really felt like that was happening.
Jake Masoe was important. She was sure of it. But she needed to prove it.
They walked on, up the hill, passing the little boxlike houses on the bluff, and then continued down a dirt track, skirting easily around a spindly ROAD CLOSED sign propped up on ancient sawhorses, entering a tree-lined gravel driveway overgrown with weeds.
Soon, the trees opened up to reveal the small ruined cabin, squatting in an overgrown meadow that swept down to a rocky beach. The cabin was clearly condemned, leaning forward where the high tides had licked its feet, roof missing in places, porch railings misplaced and crooked like broken teeth in a wide smile.
“We’re going in there?” Jake asked, nervous.
But Ivy laughed. “I’d like to see you try! No, not in there. Out there.”
She pointed to the wide dock, stilted above the highest tides, that stretched out from the cabin’s beach well into the gray saltwater. It was old but well-built, thick wooden pylons crusted with barnacles and closed-mouth mussels, boards weathered by the wind but sound.
While Ivy and Bailey steered Jake toward the stairs up to the dock, Ethan left the group to walk up the cabin’s front driveway to an old galvanized trash can. He yanked off the tight lid and drew out a heavy plastic bag, then replaced the lid and jogged back to meet them.
“Snacks,” he announced with triumph, and fell into step behind as they climbed the stairs to the dock, creaking under their weight, a sound that Ivy had come to associate with welcome.
As they drew near to the end of the dock, in practiced ease Ivy, Ethan, and Bailey all settled in their favorite places: Ethan at the end, with his back to the sea and facing toward shore, Bailey on his right, and Ivy on his left, making a half-circle. Ethan settled the bag of snacks on his lap and unpacked them into the middle: Oreos, gummy worms, a half-full bag of jalapeño-flavored potato chips.
It was only when the snacks bag was emptied that Ivy looked up and realized that Jake was still halfway down the dock, hands in his hoodie pocket, uncertainty threatening to break over his face like an errant wave.
“It’s okay, come and sit here,” she said, patting the empty place beside her. “We’re not going to get in trouble or anything. The island government owns the property, and the lady said it was okay if we hang out here, as long as we’re careful. No one comes out here anymore.”
But Jake looked over his shoulder at the beach, as if an invisible thread was drawing him back. “I didn’t…know we were going to do…this.”
For the first time all day, it occurred to Ivy that Jake might be afraid of water. The thought had genuinely never occurred to her, and she suddenly felt ashamed for being so thoughtless. On an island like this, being afraid of water simply wasn’t really an option. You couldn’t avoid it.
“It’s safe,” Bailey said, grabbing a gummy worm. “This dock is super solid. It’s all good.”
“There’s only a couple of Oreos left, if you want one,” Ethan said, mouth already full.
But Jake didn’t move a muscle, looking out at the sea, sad eyes haunted.
Ivy stood, walked back down the dock toward him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
He blinked, swallowed. “Um. I can’t…do this.”
“It’s okay.” Ivy hoped her smile was encouraging enough. “Are you, like…scared of the water, or something?”
“No. Not…no.” Jake shook his head as though he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “Are we just gonna…sit?”
Ivy nodded. “Yeah, just sit. Nothing crazy. But we don’t have to. We can go back, if you want.”
Jake looked up, met her eyes, saw that he was making an effort to see her, instead of whatever memories were playing on a loop in his mind.
For the first time all day, Ivy’s confidence faltered, ever so slightly. She hoped she was right about this. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake.
After a minute, Jake made a small noise in his throat, involuntary, a subtle whimper. And then he said, “Okay. Yeah, okay. Let’s go. I can do it.”
Relieved, but trying not to show it, Ivy took her place in the circle again, and Jake settled himself beside her, closing it, keeping his eyes pointedly fixed away from the surrounding water.
“All good?” Bailey asked.
“Yeah,” Jake said, though his voice was shaking. “All good.”
“Oreo?” Ethan said.
Jake paused, looked at the offered package of cookies in Ethan’s hand, and it hit all four of them at once, a wave of laughter that swelled, skipped over the water below and sank, bubbling. Jake reached out and took a cookie, still laughing, like a spell had broken.
“So,” Jake said through a bite of cookie, shoulders visibly relaxing, “what was so important out here that you guys had to show me, anyway?”
Ivy cradled a handful of potato chips in one palm and pointed out with the other hand, westward along the shoreline. “See that, where the trees get really thick over there? That’s Mothwood. It's a really big forest. It’s closed to the public. There used to be a road through there, but it’s closed, now, too. No one is allowed in there.”
“Why is it closed?”
“Because it’s haunted,” Bailey said, matter of fact.
Ivy watched for Jake’s reaction, but was pleased when he seemed to take it in stride. I was right, she thought, a thrill filling her from the toes up. I was right.
“Ghosts?” he said.
Bailey nodded. “Ghosts. Other stuff, too. The whole island is haunted. But Mothwood is where it all kinda…”
She made a hand motion, sticking a gummy worm in her teeth and bringing her clawed hands together, interlacing her fingers to complete the thought.
Concentrates. Weaves together. Lingers.
Jake tilted his head, regarding the line of black woods, reaching for another Oreo. “Definitely looks creepy.”
Ivy swallowed her latest potato chip and asked, casually as she could, “Have you ever seen a ghost, Jake?”
His eyes flicked to hers and then away. “Why?”
“Just wondering.”
Jake shook his head quickly. “Nope, never seen one.”
Ivy felt disappointment flutter through her, but she pressed on. “Like I said at lunch, Ethan and Bailey and I all became friends because we’ve had weird stuff happen to us. The island took my mom away when I was a baby, and that's a long story. Ethan and Bailey nearly got drowned in a hotel pool by something. Something big.”
“We were swimming at night,” Bailey said. “Snuck in.”
Ethan nodded, solemnly. “It was pretty freaky.”
Jake gave nothing away.
“I get kind of a…sense about people,” Ivy continued, suddenly unable to stop explaining, to try and make this work. “When they’ve also been through something weird. Weird in a like, X-Files kinda way? Like ghosts and monsters and stuff. I feel like people like us, we get each other. People who have been through that. And uh…I dunno…I thought maybe you had, too. I just…had a feeling. About you.”
Jake wasn’t looking at her. Ivy’s heart was thundering, drowning out the sound of the rising tide murmuring against the pylons below them. Even though there were only four of them sitting in a circle on the dock, she felt like she was being watched by thousands of pairs of eyes, appraising gazes, anxious to see what would come of all this.
She had been so sure she was right, that Jake was going to get it, the way she and Ethan and Bailey had all gotten each other. It had been instantaneous, electric. But her confidence was fading.
What if the whole thing is a mistake?
Jake said, very quietly, “I should probably go home.”
The words fell like a weight in the middle of the circle. Ethan and Bailey looked at Ivy. Ivy looked at Jake.
“I’m sorry,” she said, flustered, flailing for a way to fix it. “I really just wanted to…”
Jake shook his head. “This just…wasn’t a good idea.”
He stood up, brushing off his pants, checked his phone, put it back in his pocket, then froze. He paused for a second or two, silent. Listening. Staring down into the water below.
“Did you hear that?” he said, his voice sounding distant, his gaze transfixed on the waves.
Ivy blinked, standing up slowly. She had heard nothing. “Hear what?”
Jake opened his mouth, like he was going to say something else, but the sound died on his lips. His dark eyes widened, and his face blanched to a sickly color. He went rigid.
“Oh no,” he said. “No, no, no…”
The pause shattered as Jake jerked as if in agony, slapped his hands over his ears, letting out a gutteral moan, something grief-stricken and horrible, a dirge. Ivy heard Ethan and Bailey scrape to their feet in shock behind her, the crinkling of the snack bags like a gunshot, potato chips scattering over the dock.
“Not here,” Jake suddenly shouted, as if he was trying to be heard over a crowd, but there was no other sound. “Not here!”
He pitched forward on shaking legs, grabbed Ivy tightly by the shoulders, face inches from hers, breath sickly sweet from the Oreos.
“What did you do to me?” Jake pleaded, eyes filling with terrified tears. Ethan and Bailey were shouting at him to let Ivy go. A seagull screamed from the distant marina, harsh.
“Why did you do this?” he groaned. “What the hell did you do to me?”
He pulled his hands away before Ethan and Bailey could shove him off, sobbing, and ran away from them down the dock. But instead of heading back toward town he turned right down the beach, racing with a linebacker’s speed, hands still tight over his ears, disappearing into the trees.
In a blink, he was gone.
“What happened?” Bailey shrilled, voice pitching. “He just snapped!”
“We have to call someone,” Ethan said. “Ivy?”
But Ivy was crying, the brief dose of terrified adrenaline turning instantly to tears, trembling hands flat against her cheeks.
“It’s my fault,” she said. “I’m so stupid.”
“Ivy, we have to go get help,” Bailey said. “Right now. Before he gets too far. We can deal with everything else later.”
“It’s not your fault, Ives,” Ethan said, laying a hand on her shoulder, fingers still fragrant with jalapeño flavoring. “You didn’t know he would snap like that.”
Ivy drew in a quivering breath, dropped her hands to her sides. That little whisper, that instinct, that knack…it had suddenly gone quiet on her, suspicious, secretive. That thing that had made her feel so smart, so wise, so grown-up…it felt like it was laughing at her for being such a naive little girl.
Like she had done someone a cruel favor, without knowing it.
She thought of Jake, out there in the trees. Whatever had just happened to him, no matter how frightening, he didn’t know anything about this place. He would get lost. He could get hurt.
And it would be her fault.
But, more to the point, it was her responsibility.
She squared her shoulders, sniffled, wiped her nose with one sweater sleeve. “You guys go and get help. I’m going to go after Jake. He can’t have gone very far, yet”
“That’s dumb,” Bailey said. “Ivy, that’s really dumb.”
“It is dumb,” Ethan agreed, kneeling to gather the snacks back into the bag. “You’re not going to help by getting yourself lost.”
“I know where I am. Jake doesn’t. I can at least try and track him down, make sure he doesn’t get hurt.” Ivy felt the resolution burn inside of her, a white-hot core of wild teenage confidence. “You guys aren’t going to convince me not to do it. I'll be careful. Go and get help. I’ll see you soon.”
Before she could wait for them to argue, Ivy jogged down the dock, the old boards gossiping underneath her pounding steps. Bailey called her name, but she didn't stop.
She turned right on the beach and headed up to the break in the watchful trees where Jake had disappeared only moments before.
I was reading the last few paragraphs breathlessly. I kept praying there would be a part three. I love Jake so much! Also, Port Salish-verse should be a book. Multiple books. And I want to see them every time I enter a bookstore!
I'm guessing fishmaids maybe? I could be wrong. Either way: I don't know how many times I've felt that flustered feeling of oh-no-this is wrong-gotta-fix it and that whole scene was brilliant, and I can't wait for part three.