Yeah, yeah, I told you it was going to get weird. And what…you didn’t believe me? Well, let’s go down that road a little more and see what else is out there – just waiting in the shadows.

[Thompson Twins \\ Hold Me Now]

C1.5

Callahan looked up and saw Peter Weyland was now at the wheel and with a start he realized he was laying down – and that his head was in Devlin’s lap; Captain Bennett was sitting nearby, looking at Callahan with frank concern in his eyes.

“You okay, Sport?” Bennett asked when he saw Callahan’s eyes were open.

“What happened?” Harry replied, squinting at the sudden sunlight.

Then he felt Dev’s fingers running through his hair and he moved his head tentatively, saw she was looking at him, smiling and without a care in the world showing in her bright eyes. “You lost your breakfast over the rail,” she sighed, “then you slipped and hit your head.”

“You’re going to have a little knot on your forehead,” Dr. Weyland advised professionally, and with an offhand grin, “but otherwise I think you’ll live.”

Callahan rolled his eyes and tried to sit up but immediately thought better of it and moaned as his head began pounding.

“You might want to take it slow for a half hour or so,” Weyland added.

Callahan nodded and then realized the wind had died down and that they were sailing along slowly, the boat not leaning at all now, so he took a deep breath and just let go again – and a moment later he felt himself falling asleep…

“Hey! Sleepyhead!” he heard his mother say, “You ready for some lunch?”

He opened his eyes again and now his head was resting on a folded up jacket and then he saw Devlin was coming up from down below with a plate full of sandwiches, so he pulled himself up and rubbed his eyes then tried to remember where he was and why he was on a boat…

“Harry,” Sam Bennett said, “always has a big appetite. You need a hand there, Miss Weyland?”

Callahan looked around, saw the boat was apparently at anchor and a couple hundred yards away kids were frolicking on a rocky beach and a couple of other sailboats were anchored nearby. The air was still and smelled of the sea at low tide, and for a moment he thought the air almost smelled of iodine and he shook his head as Sam helped get the cockpit table set up and ready for them. Devlin handed over the sandwiches then disappeared below again, surfacing a moment later with a pitcher of iced tea that had big juicy slices of peach floating in lazy circles around the rim, then a little tumbler was thrust into Callahan’s hand. 

Weyland came up the companionway a moment later and handed Callahan a couple of Tylenol tablets and as he drank the tea Callahan thought it the most amazing thing he’d ever had. So simple…just a peach or two and it felt like he was drinking the nectar of the Gods…

Then a sliced turkey sandwich with a simple slathering of mayonnaise and a little cracked pepper, and a nice thick slice of summer’s finest treat, the beefsteak tomato, freshly sliced so the bread remained light and airy and full of goodness. Callahan took a few bites then leaned back and let the sun wash over his face and he couldn’t remember feeling so good – ever. Neither could he remember ever being so totally confused.

‘There was an owl back there. A white owl. I saw it. I watched it watching me and I was not imagining it.’

His detective’s mind raced to find an explanation where none could possibly exist, but that didn’t stop his reaching beyond the obvious. He looked around the back of the boat, back where he had been kneeling and retching and where he had seen the owl, then he remembered seeing the owl’s eyes were also Devlin’s…but that just couldn’t be…

He looked at her now and no, her blue-green eyes were still those of a human being and certainly not the huge amber orbs he’d seen in that blinking instant – which he had to admit was reassuring – but that fact wasn’t exactly comforting, either…given present circumstances.

“Where are we?” Callahan asked.

“North side of Angel Island,” Weyland said, watching Callahan closely now, “on a mooring ball in Ayala Cove. How’re you feeling now?”

“Foggy.”

“We’ll give it another hour. You should be up to snuff by then.”

Sam was plowing through his sandwich and enjoying every bite. “Where on earth did you find these tomatoes?” he asked. “They taste exactly like a summer afternoon!”

“Oh, once a week or so,” Weyland began, smiling now as he talked, “we drive down Highway One and check out the farm-stands set up by the roadside. This time of year the tomatoes are coming in and we found some good ones last weekend.”

“I’ll say,” Bennett said. “Do you get out here on the bay very often?”

Weyland nodded between bites. “Try to. Of course this is the time of year for it.”

Callahan wasn’t paying attention to this chatter; he was looking at Devlin, still trying to make sense of the morning when he saw a little white feather flutter off the aft deck and fall into the pale, grey-green water below them in the shallow little cove – and he watched as it landed on the mottled surface and drifted on idle currents into the maelstrom of a dream he didn’t quite understand. Yet.

+++++

They sailed to Sausalito as a cooling fog rolled in through the Golden Gate, and smartly dressed dock-boys helped them tie-off to the guest pier at the Sausalito Yacht Club, then the four of them walked over to The Spinnaker restaurant as the day’s sunbeams and cool breezes gave way to scudding clouds creeping in over the low coastal foothills. Shadows fell away to the blues and grays of evening and the sudden enveloping warmth inside the restaurant felt soothing, like a respite from the changes they had endured that day. Glasses clinking, women batting their eyes at passing men, men staring at passing legs – everything as it should be…just another night in the land of plenty.

Weyland recommended a few things on the menu and drinks appeared, then plates of fresh seafood in a bewildering display of excess that Callahan simply couldn’t relate to. Was Weyland, he wondered, trying to assert the fact of his obvious wealth to a couple of poor cops, or was he simply a generous soul. But more than anything else, by the time dinner was over Callahan was left to wonder what this day had been all about…because Weyland had planned it all out, right down to their dinner reservations.

Weyland had put Harry back to work after lunch, stood beside him while they navigated around Angel Island before circling back and sailing up Richardson Bay, all eyes focused on the depth gauge as they closed on the old cream-colored Victorian house that now served as an Audubon Society preserve. Weyland was a patient teacher but for the life of him Callahan couldn’t understand what all this instruction was about.

And neither could Sam Bennett, but by the time Weyland’s foggy excursion came to a wet, soggy end back at the St Francis Yacht Club, he felt more than certain that both he and Callahan had been taken for a ride.

+++++

Weyland decided to head back into the club for a late evening libation, but he thanked Harry for being such a good sport. “Maybe you’ll catch the bug!” he said cheerfully.

“Oh? What bug is that?”

“Sailing, of course. And anytime you’d like to go out please let Devlin know and we’ll try to lay something on! You’re an able student and I enjoyed my day tremendously.”

Callahan nodded and smiled. “I did too, sir. Very much, and thanks.”

Bennett smiled and watched this exchange carefully – if only because Devlin remained well back and kept to the periphery now…as in out of sight, out of mind…but Bennett was certain the girl had, against all odds, fallen in love with Callahan. And that did not bode well, for anyone. But Sam caught the goodbyes and remembered where he was, so he added a cheerful: “I did as well, Doctor. Thank you for a memorable day.”

“You’re most welcome, Captain. I hope to see you both soon,” he said, now looking at Devlin. “Perhaps now would be a good time to take Captain Bennett and Callahan down to where all this happened,” he said to her before adding: “I’ll probably be late so let yourself in. I won’t see you ‘til morning.”

She nodded then walked up to Harry and took his hand. “C’mon, let’s go before it gets too cold.”

Bennett fell in behind Callahan and the girl and he could feel Harry’s dis-ease at the girl’s suddenly aggressive possessiveness. As they walked along she pulled a reluctant Callahan closer and closer, and Bennett wondered why Harry was going along with her overt display of affection…

Streetlights were coming on now, and lines of glowing orbs stretched out in the gathering fog as Harry and Devlin talked about what she thought the ‘creature’ was; she had no idea but when Callahan suggested squids and octopi she just shrugged and gathered herself up against the growing chill. Sam listened intently – but he also watched her body language, looking for signs of reluctance or deceit. Or insincerity.

And he saw nothing of the sort. Not even ambivalence. Yet he could feel her fear as they approached the spot where the boy had been eviscerated.

There was still ample evidence something terrible had gone down on that beach; there were still deep maroon splotches on the sand where neither time nor tide had lingered long enough to wash away the quiet detritus of death. The water was calm now, very calm, and if not for the glowing orbs reflected on the inky black surface there would have been no way to see any difference between this water and crude oil.

And then an Old Man wearing a cape and walking with the aid a walking stick approached, and while the old fella tipped his hat as he passed he said not a word. Sam watched the old man for a moment, as the old man approached Mason Street, and when he stopped suddenly and looked out over the water Sam turned and looked too.

And he saw something out there. Almost like a man but tall and slimy-black, black with latent malice – and the thing suddenly turned and was staring at Devlin.

“Callahan?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you see that?”

Callahan turned and looked at Sam, then followed his eyes. “What the hell is that, Captain?”

“That’s it,” Devlin whispered. “That’s what got Jimmy…”

Bennett reached for the Colt 1911 in the shoulder holster under his left arm and pulled it free…

…and at the same time the Old Man slammed the silver tip of his cane down onto the sidewalk…

…and the creature slipped under the inky surface and disappeared, just as thunder rumbled somewhere out beyond the Golden Gate.

And when Bennett turned to find the old man he found that he too was gone.

Standing next to a streetlight not at all far from where Bennett, Callahan, and Devlin stood, a tall, thin man stood watching. He coughed once then lit a cigarette before he disappeared in a passing shadow.

© 2023 adrian leverkühn | abw | adrianleverkuhnwrites.com | fiction, every last word…

[Peter Gabriel \\ Red Rain]