CARTER [P3C3] – Island in the Sun

The Chronicles of Samuel Carter – Part III: Chapter Three

This is Part Three of the Chronicles of Samuel Carter. If you would like to start at the beginning, please find Part One linked below.

The Chronicles of Samuel Carter

And now for the continuation…

Part III – Chapter Three: Island in the Sun

Waves were lapping on the white shore, the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, the Beach Boys were blasting Barbara Ann from somewhere, and a young man with dreadlocks, wearing an unbuttoned white linen shirt, was mixing drinks at the bar of an open straw hut, surrounded by palm trees.

A group of scarcely clad girls was gathered around someone, giggling at his every word, a man in Bermuda shorts, tanned and topless, gold chain sparkling on his premium sternum bush, Aviator sunglasses, sleek brown hair, and a thick moustache framing his shiny teeth.

“Hey there, people. I’m Theodore Thorne. Welcome to my island!” Thorne swaggered up to them, his hairy arm slung around one of the girls and sipping a dirty martini with his free hand. “Mmmh, you’ve got to try the cocktails, guys. Raffy is a magician. Isn’t that right, uh, what’s your name again?”

“Candy,” said the young woman, smiling.

“Of course,” he smiled back and gave her an affectionate slap on the buttocks. She turned and went back to the others, who were whispering and stealing glances at the guests.

Bellatrix reached for her blades, but her hands came up empty.

“And what have we here?” Theodore looked Bellatrix up and down and smacked his lips. “Mighty fine, might fine. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Touch me and die!” Bellatrix glared at Thorne.

“The girl has spunk, I like it,” Theodore grinned, turned to the two men, and added in a low voice, “ She… uh, with either of you slices of white bread? She’d be perfect for my eleven o’clock,” he winked.

Bellatrix shrieked, looked down at herself, and found she was wearing a bikini, skin glistening, no scars, no tattoos, and no blades. She had turned into one of the beach girls. “What the hell is this? Where are we?”

Adrian noticed Samuel’s runes were gone as well, and all three of them gaped at each other, primed for sunbathing, as the girls came running and welcomed them with colourful lei.

As soon as the flowers touched Samuel’s shoulders, he felt a weight being lifted. Something deep inside of him gave way, and for the first time in forever, he felt free; it felt good, so good, his head started spinning, and then the moment passed.

“Hello, Sam,” a woman said from behind.

“Jackie!” cried Adrian as he ran past Samuel and flung his arms around his sister, wearing the same white suit she had worn the day she had disappeared. “I knew you were alive. I knew it. I never stopped looking.” He held her face, tears in his eyes.

“My sweet brother. I was foolish. I thought you had gone without me. I should have known Father played us against each other. I’m sorry, Adrian.”

“Sorry? Don’t be. We’re together now.”

“When you’re done with the family reunion, can we get to the part where I show my mighty fine steel to Mr Tiny Numb Nuts here?” said Bellatrix.

“You’re one of the children,” stated Jackie, looking at Bellatrix. “Interesting. Did Father send you?”

“What is it with you and your father? I came because of him!” Bellatrix pointed at Thorne.

“Ah, our dear Mr Thorne. When he arrived, I thought I could finally get out. Swap places with him, in a manner of speaking, but as it turned out, he was not enough, and so we both remained or rather, Thorne remained in his version of bliss and I in mine. If I stay here much longer, I’ll turn into one of his playthings, and I’d rather not.”

“How is this possible? How can we be in two places at the same time?” said Bellatrix.

“My dear child, only our consciousness exists here. You left your bodies in the chamber, and mine is inside the pod at my father’s manor. Isn’t that so, Samuel?” Jackie grabbed Sam’s hand. “The force that binds us to this plane is strong, stronger than any of us, but together, we can get out of here. We don’t have much time.”

“Yeah, we better get some drinks! Almost eleven.” Thorne grinned and stared at Jackie, not listening to a word she said, motioned towards the hut, winking at Bellatrix and running a finger down her shoulder blade, covered in sparkling pearls.

Her knee connected to the parts that pushed his yelp an octave higher, and gasping, Thorne howled, bent, sucking in air through his teeth.

“You disgust me. I thought, maybe he’s not all bad, maybe he’ll know who I am, but what was I thinking? How stupid of me. Your brain’s so far down south, I’m surprised you can walk upright.”

“Oww, come on, we’re just havin’ fun.” He groaned. “Do I know you? You and me? Did we...?”

“Gross! You’re my Dad, you dickhead!”

The beach fell silent. Even the waves paused. Thorne stared at Bellatrix, mouth wide open.

“Say something!” Bellatrix screamed.

“—Holy Wiener Schnitzel.” Thorne stammered.

* * *

“And that’s how I found out I had a daughter. Me, a daughter! Can you believe it? Here I was, making the best of a dire situation, literally having the time of my life, without realising it was all fake, I think, while my body was trapped in some weird-ass stasis field. Then Doctor Buzzkill Carter comes along and messes it all up, makes us hold hands like in Kindergarten and houdinis us out of paradise. One moment, I was sipping martinis with my girls on the beach. Next, I was back in my old body, at the mercy of two sharp implements. That was a year ago.” Thorne put the whiskey glass down on the table and, with steel-blue eyes, stared straight at the man opposite him.

They were in a small, dimly lit bar in the heart of Cairo. The bustle of the street, with its multitude of food carts and merchants, wafted in through the open windows along with a cool evening breeze. The place was packed. Thorne sat in a corner from where he could oversee the whole room. His guest was a sly-faced, thin-nosed middle-aged man with short, receding hair and patchy stubbles across his chin, who went by the name Wilbert the Weasel, a man of resource, someone to see when in need of hard-to-procure items. Thorne signalled the waiter and ordered another round.

“Theodore Thorne. I can’t believe it, I thought you were dead, man. After that last deal, you disappeared—poof—without a trace, and now you’re telling me you have a daughter? You sure you weren’t in Hawaii, tripping this whole time? I gotta say, you sound batshit crazy,” Wilbert shook his head, picked up his glass and gulped down the cheap liquor with a sour smile.

“About that deal,” Thorne said, leaning forward, eyes locked with Wilbert.

“Yeah, sorry, man. I don’t know what happened. My intel was good. I was as surprised as you when I heard,” Wilbert played with the glass, spinning it in the puddle of water under it that had built up from the melted ice, licking his lips, perspiration on his forehead glistening in the twilight. A mosquito buzzed near his ear and landed on his neck. He smacked it with surgical precision, reducing it to a splatter of red mush.

“Goddam bloodsuckers,” he spat.

“Yeah, bloodsuckers,” Thorne repeated, eyes narrowed, he paused. Their drinks arrived. They stared at each other as the waiter put down the amber liquor, took the empty glasses and left.

Thorne picked up his glass and swayed it gently, the ice clinking inside.

“I know it was you,” his voice was calm, smooth. He smiled at Wilbert, raised the glass to his lips, inhaled and took a mouthful of molten gold.

Wilbert looked like a deer caught in the headlights trying to decide whether Thorne had made a joke, laughing half-heartedly, and then, straightening up, cleared his throat and shook his head.

“No, no way. Absolutely not. I would never do that to you, buddy, Theo, you’re my guy, my best customer. Why would I do such a thing? Who told you that? Lies! They lie!”

“Maybe. It doesn’t matter whether I believe you or not. It’s out of my hands, and if they find you… best case, you can sing Sayonara, Crown Jewels down at the Tipsy Enuch.”

“Come on, what? You’re joking,” Wilbert’s eyes darted across the bar and back to Thorne, who leaned back in his chair, hands folded.

“Afraid not. I’d say you have a day, two at the most.”

“OK, look, it was Beaumont, I swear. He paid double, said you’d be fine, just a little roughing up, and you know he doesn’t take no for an answer. What was I supposed to do? You’ve got to help me.”

“And there it is. The truth. Finally. You see, I knew that already. I wish I could help you.”

“Please! I’ll do anything. Come on, man, you owe me!”

“I owe you nothing. Hm, but there’s one thing…”

“Name it, anything!”

---

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