I was sitting on a bench on a ferry. It was raining; dark clouds were covering the sky. Raindrops were dancing in small puddles on the wooden platform. To my left, the grey mist was floating in the dense pine forest over giant ferns and bushes. To my right, the rough sea was producing angry waves as far as eyes could see. The continuous up and down movement was making me feel dizzy. I should have taken a pill for my motion sickness but I had been late for my ferry and it had slipped my mind. Anyway, the chilly wind helped me a bit. The world around me was strangely relaxing. There were only a few people on the ferry. I could see a man in a grey raincoat watching the water and an old man, reading his soaking wet book. I was wondering if the letters were still visible.
‘Do you have a fire?’ - A man wearing a hoodie asked me.
‘No, I don’t. But if you find one, good luck with that!’ - I said while hundreds of raindrops were bombarding my face as I was looking up at him, squinting.
Because what I had read about Black Rain (located between Washington State and Canada) was that it rained almost every day. Well, I did not mind. I would get used to it because rainy weather made me relaxed and sleepy anyway.
As time passed, I was getting more and more nervous. I just hoped I would never meet any of them anymore. What I mean by them, I am going to tell you later.
Anyway, my name is Mark Marsh and I was heading to the island as I got a new job as a social worker. I just wanted to earn money with a normal job and wanted to discontinue what I had done before. I needed a new life.
James Andrew the mayor told me that the town needed someone to supervise the too young and to take care of the too old. As I had no criminal records and I had a clean history (apart from shoplifting with my friends time by time), I was qualified for the job.
So having arrived, I went to the town hall to meet the mayor in person. The town hall was a brown, one-story wooden building with two long hallways. There were offices on both sides. In the mayor’s chamber, the walls were covered by different preserved heads of animals with glass eyes. They were looking at me threateningly and I started to feel very uncomfortable. However, I tried not to show it. I had never understood how people could use trophies like these as decoration. I would never do that. These heads were once part of a living entity. Whenever you looked into their eyes, what you saw was the last second of their life. The expression of death. On the other hand, there were some old photos on the wall, telling stories of the history of the town which I was not familiar with at all yet.
‘As I have already told you, your main task is to perform some regular checks on the people. You mentioned you had previous experience with helping people, however, you didn’t go into the details much.
‘Oh, just as I told you, I helped a lot of old, vulnerable people. I am quite popular in my neighbourhood and the old folks always ask me to help with their everyday things’ - I lied.
‘Well, our people are a bit different here. I mean don’t worry about them, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the locals. Our only worry is isolation. You know…this is a small island in the ocean. People can sometimes feel lonely here since they don’t have much contact with the outside. We just need to check if they don’t feel too lonely, or aren’t depressed. Talk to the old people, do some shopping for them, manage their utilities, walk their pets, clean up their house and so on. Some parents might need someone to babysit sometimes as well.
‘Is there something else? I mean, breastfeeding or folding nappies?’
‘I am sorry, what did you just say?’
‘Uhm…nothing?’
‘The rest can still wait a bit.’ – he sighed. Then he looked towards the window and then quickly back to the door. It was a sign of concern. We did not know what to do, or which direction to take and instead, we just looked away. Something made him anxious and he did not want to talk about it yet. Then he went to his desk and took a list from it.
‘This is a list of people you have to visit and write up a report on what your tasks will be so I will be aware.’ he said, handing me the list.
After the interview, I left the building and I discovered that it had started to rain again as I looked around. The sound of raindrops as they were bombing into the puddles gave me some positive thoughts.
Something caught my eyes, however. Somebody was watching me from the other side of the street. It was a girl, wearing a white top and denim pants. She had long brown hair and was looking at me angrily.
‘Oh shit. Are they following me? Even to this shithole in the middle of nowhere?’ - I said to myself.
But the next moment, someone else turned up behind me.
‘Noah Watts. I am the inspector of the sheriff’s office.’ - a young man wearing a black leather coat said. His appearance was friendly, he was a person who you should never be afraid of asking the time from in the street.
He introduced himself and we shook hands.
Inspector?! Am I under arrest?’ – I asked.
‘No sir, I am a very good friend of James Andrew. He asked me to give you a lift to your accommodation. Besides, since this is a small community, I do a lot of other jobs as well like checking the old regularly, saving cats being trapped on trees, or supervising conservation work in the parks. As you see, I do more community service than investigation.’ – he said and the rain started to pour heavier. We hopped into the car and took to the road.
‘This damn weather all the time… I think it has something to do with the ocean and being up to the north. So unless you like it, this place is not for you. A gum?’ – Noah asked and offered a piece of chewing gum. I took one. Now we were going out of the forest and it was getting brighter but not bright enough to turn off the headlights for it was still cloudy.
‘The main way of making ends meet is fishing. Black Rain has a port with small fishing boats. People go to the sea every day except when it is stormy. Most people have done manual work: a lot of them have their own farms, managing the crops and animals. They are the ones who provide food to the town. Others offer services like barbershops, car service, grocery, and electronics shops, but you can also find some coffee shops and we have a restaurant. There are gardeners, cleaners, electricians, plumbers, and other blue-collar workers. You call them and they go to do the job.’
‘I see. And why is it called Black Rain? I did not find any information on it.’
‘Well. I am not sure that I am the right person to ask. What I can tell you is that this place was once lived by Native Indians before the British settlers arrived. The name came from them for some reason.’ – he said. He tapped his finger on the wheel a few times. He knew the answer. It was compensation: an act to fill up the blanks that he did not tell me by hand movement. But I did not push him. He was accelerating a bit to overtake a slow vehicle.
‘Did they run away from the settlers?‘
‘Not really. They were gone.’
‘They were gone?!’ - I asked, raising my voice in my surprise.
‘They disappeared. Nobody was found here even though everything seemed to be normal. It was like an ordinary day: their breakfast was prepared, the fire was still smoking, and tables were set for the meal. People said they had vanished into thin air. Like those folks in Roanoke. Have you heard of their story sir?’ – he asked, looking at me with curiosity.
‘Yes, I did. As a kid, I was a UFO fan and read about lot of mysterious stories. A group of British settlers was left on an island for a while until further supplies arrived. When the ship returned, everybody had gone, leaving no trace.’
‘Exactly sir. If you want to get some history lessons, just go to John Dewey’s bookshop. The crazy old man is the master of local history. Be careful, though, once you get into a conversation, he will never stop. But I am sure that he will be able to tell you much much more than I have just said.’
Although it was raining heavily, I could see some small shops, hairdressers, post offices, cafe bars, chemists, music shops, newsagents, a pub, laundry service, car service, gas station, and other smaller businesses and ventures. We also crossed a bridge with a narrow river underneath. Then we reached the end of the town. The deeper we were getting into the forest, the darker it became.
Giant pine trees were standing on both sides of the narrow road. Large, sleepy bushes and ferns lay all around the bottom of the trees giving uncountable shades of green. Then we reached a private road which led to a huge, grassy meadow. My trailer was to the right side of the field. The building would have probably been enjoying the sunshine if it had not been raining. The trailer house was already waiting for me. The ranch was surrounded by dense forest with lush vegetation. A huge mountain welcomed me from the opposite side. The mist was hovering about the summit as if somebody had spilt a bottle of milk and it got frozen in the air.
Realising that this was the sight which would welcome me every morning gave me a sense of euphoria. I had always longed for scenery like this. I did not know that the surroundings would be so peaceful. I started to grow into that place at once. My new home was quite pretty and comfortable: there was a spacious living room with a kitchen, a bedroom with a double bed with two bedside tables and a wardrobe, and two smaller rooms (one of that was a study with a desk, a small wardrobe and a printer) and a bathroom.
The trailer was equipped and it was also connected to the Internet. However, the connection is poor on the island. After looking around and unpacking, I laid down on the sofa to have a rest. I could hear the raindrops hitting the roof of the trailer while darkness was surrounding the area outside like a floating grey veil. I fell asleep.
The next morning I got a text message from Noah:
DON’T HAVE BREAKFAST. WE ARE GOING TO A BISTRO. I WILL PICK YOU UP IN AN HOUR. BE READY.
Before Noah arrived, I stepped out of the trailer. As I was marvelling at the place, I noticed something on the top of a mountain. It was very far from me but I could still spot it. The thing looked like a dome-shaped building. Its dome was metallic grey and there were antennas on the top reaching the sky. Whatever it was, it seemed a real contrast to the environment.
Noah’s dark green Jeep arrived exactly at 8 o’clock just as it was discussed. He waved to me from the car. I locked the door (though it might not have been necessary here) and I hopped in. On our way into town, he shared more information things about the island with me.
‘Black Rain has a population of about 15000. However, a few families and loners live outside the town. Usually hunters, lumberjacks or rangers. They only come to town to shop or buy the grocery. This island isn’t so big, so you can reach all its four corners in a relatively short time. But there are some remote areas which are difficult to approach like mountains covered by forest.’ - he said while we continued our way toward the town.
The clouds and the trees covering the sky above the road made the area dark. Even though it was morning it felt like late evening. As we continued our way, there were fewer and fewer trees but the darkness did not want to go away. Noah offered me a map from the gloves compartment and I took it out to study it as I had been unable to buy one on the mainland. Nowhere else was I able to buy a map of Black Rain on the mainland, I do not know why. From the map, it seemed that there was a main street which crossed the middle of the island. The town had a town centre. The eastern part of the island was mountainous and contained dense forests. Then I stared at a lake depicted to the north. The first place where we were heading was a breakfast and brunch bar on a smaller street, called A La Maison. When we finally arrived, I peered at the brick building with four windows set into it. Through the glass, I could see some people inside having their breakfast.
Inside, the place was pleasantly warm. There was a larger room at the end of the place where stairs led to a lower level. On the top of the stairs, signs indicated where the restrooms were. I could smell the fresh coffee in the air accompanied by French toast and eggs while we found an empty table. As I do not usually have much of an appetite this early, I thought for a moment if the aroma of food had me made hungry, it could be some kind of trick. But I was sure that I would still come back to this place. A blond waitress in a black and white uniform came to our table and smiled.
We both ordered ham and eggs and were waiting for it to be done.
‘You know, I shouldn’t tell you this, but… if you thought you would find your safest place in the world, that might be a mistake.’ - Noad said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Our town hasn’t been the safest place recently.’
‘How come?’ - I asked.
‘Nobody knows for sure.’ - Noah shrugged.
‘But the number of criminal activities has drastically increased in the past few years. Black Rain was a safe and peaceful town before. But something happened and people have gone crazy. Come on, this island has never been anything like the Bronx or Detroit. People have never experienced so many misdeeds here. Families are robbed. Old people are mugged in daylight. Young people assault each other. Drugs are spreading. These problems suddenly appeared and we don’t know why.’
‘That’s terrible.’ - I said and wanted to ask why he was telling that to me. But then it came to me. I remembered what Mr Andrew had previously told me: the rest can wait. I thought Noah was feeding me with this piece of information to make me some kind of spy or something to report any suspicious activities. If that was the case, then the whole thing wasn’t about my job - at least, my job should have been a cover-up. But this was just my theory and I didn’t want to elaborate on it.
The fact however about the increasing rate of criminal activities was nothing new to me. I was grown up in a dangerous neighbourhood. I always needed to take care of my mother, my sister and myself since we were without a father. He left us when I was three years old and I didn’t really care what had happened to him. My mother was always vague about him anyway.
Before Noah could answer anything, I couldn’t help but notice the girl again. She had been watching me a few tables away for a while and I was getting fed up.
‘Excuse me, Noah, I just need to go to the restroom.’ - I said and stood up from the table heading to the restroom. She followed me too.
‘What the fuck do you want from me?’ - I asked.
‘I need a little help.’
‘I quit a long time ago. I am not doing it anymore, so fuck off!’
‘I know what your drive is, you little bastard Mark Marsh!’
‘I have changed and I don’t care about your misery, bitch!’ - I said and started going to the bathroom.
‘2500 dollars in cash.’ - she said and stopped me by leaning to the wall with her arm.
‘Not interested.’ - I said.
‘You will never change, asshole!’ - she shouted but I closed the door behind me and did my business.
Then I spent the next two weeks visiting old people, cleaning up their house, doing their shopping and walking their fucking dogs. They literally even asked to clean up their shit! What the hell, man? I just said no!
Sorry for the language but I was so damn tired of those people that I thought of going back to Seattle a few times. But no. I could not do that because it would have beaten my purpose. I came here because I wanted to start it over, I wanted a new life and I never wanted to look back again. I wanted to be normal. Just like other people. My old life was dishonest, immoral and unrighteous. I did want to change.
Then one day, officer Noah and Thomas Andrew invited me to the Seven Bears Pub. Just a regular night to introduce myself to the locals and mingle with them. I actually needed a few drinks because I was already so tired of the job and I was thinking about finding another one. I just didn’t want to make my new friends disappointed so I needed to find a good excuse for why I wanted to quit. Perhaps the job wasn’t for me and I may be better as a security officer at the local museum, a librarian, or even a cleaner but definitely not a social worker who was cleaning toilets in other people’s homes.
But there was one thing I was happy about: I didn’t see any of them.
The Seven Bears Pub was in the town centre. When I entered, the warmth of the pub hit me in the face like a blast of a vent in an underground station. I could smell french fries, burgers and beer in the air. I could hear talking, banging of beer mugs and some louder conversations while others were larking about. I was overwhelmed by the sight of the people crammed into this small bar designed for half of their number.
On the other hand, everyone in this pub was very comfortable. People started to drink beers and talk to each other. There were these guys in their 60s and 70s sitting with their legs hanging over the edge of the bar with an empty pint glass in front of them and they were rocking back and forth whilst sitting with their heads tilted down and groaning. This sight of their relaxed state, full of friendship and love had a strange effect on me. I felt jealous and weirded out.
’Hey son, good to see you here! Get this down!’ – James said sitting at one of the tables with the company of Frank Ramos raising a bottle of beer. Frank was the sheriff of Black Rain and I hadn’t talked much yet and to be honest, I wasn’t in the mood for making friends with him. Noah was enough as the only cop friend. I didn’t want more around me.
Too bad for me, they were waiving at me, so I was forced to join them.
‘Hey buddy, how are things going?’ - Frank asked. He was a middle-aged man, the top of his head was already bald. His blue eyes were sharp and I felt for a second that he could look through me.
I tried to look honest and told him how much I liked my job and all. I was just spitting bullshit. But one moment, I noticed a couple sitting next to each other, hugging, their face was sorrowful. Frank also noticed that I was watching them.
‘About three months ago, a frantic woman came to my office and was whining about her daughter who hadn’t turned up for two days. All we know is that she was Liah Cruz, a local teenager who went on her regular evening run but never returned. She is still missing and the whole town is freaked out. We searched the whole area, hundreds of people took part in the search but nothing. They are her parents.’
‘Three months is a long time. It is just so sad she hasn’t been found.’ - I added and as we looked at each other, we both thought of the same thing: she was unlikely to be still alive.
The couple was sitting in silence, and none of them said a word. The husband was stroking his wife’s back and was about to cry. The husband’s eyes were so red as if he had been crying for days as well.
In the meantime, I didn’t even notice that my pint was drawn. From where I was sitting, I could look at the other bar area which housed sofas, armchairs, tables and chairs. A table in the corner was filled with drinking folk. A man threw some angry words at the waitress about the timing of their drink and grumpily stomped off. The talking seemed louder and more frequent. Some people sometimes looked at me for a second and I felt they could see that I had something to hide. What the hell?
We still chatted about politics, religion, philosophy and all. You know, when men get drunk and they are so enthusiastic about solving the greatest mysteries of the world.
I was immersed in my thoughts when I realised how much I needed to go to the restroom so I apologised and got up. When I finished and left the restroom, I saw Frank waving at me from the table telling me to order two more bottles of beer since I was at the counter.
’I can recommend you to try Red Ice. Blue Ice is for beginners.’ - the voice belonged to a girl sitting on a bar chair, referring to the brand of the beer. Blue Ice was the most popular beer here which was indeed, kind of light. She looked pretty and friendly as I got my first impression from her. However, I did not only feel like a complete stranger here but vulnerable as well. I did not know these people, they could have been anybody. Talking too much about yourself is revealing your weak points.
’Should I trust the locals?’ – I asked smiling.
’No, a foreigner should never trust locals. Except when it comes to beer.’ – she smiled back.
The barman served the bottles and we said cheers.
Suddenly, two hands touched my shoulders from the back.
’Hey boy, be careful with Sarah, she never stops talking! See? She takes your attention so easily that you forgot about us!’ – Frank told me and took the beers and I apologised. I told them that I would go back a bit later.
’Why don’t we go out? It is getting too hot in here.’ – the girl advised and I nodded.
Getting outside was like crossing the jungle: the difference was that there were no leaves but people. The pub had a backyard. Some people were smoking and chatting there. A couple of friends were having a very serious, alcohol-fuelled conversation about time travel and black holes. It had just stopped raining and the cool damp air was pleasant to me. We introduced ourselves to each other, her name was Sarah Mitchell.
‘Celebrating something?’
‘Kinda. Celebrating the end of the day.’ – she said sipping from her beer.
‘Was it stressful?’
‘Always stressful. That’s why there is a point in life when you need to stop what you are doing.’
‘Which is…’
‘I actually speak for the dead.’
‘Oh…that must be though.’- I said and I tasted my beer. Indeed, I was not disappointed.
‘Well, I am not saying that it is monotonous. Because every corpse has a different story. But I also realised something: when your work haunts you in your dreams it is a warning that maybe you should work less.’
‘So you have nightmares?’
‘If I didn’t I wouldn’t be here to let the steam off right now. The problem is that I haven’t had so much work before. There is a murdered person here, another there. And some of the bodies are really nasty. As if the whole town had gone crazy.’ – she said. We spent a few more minutes outside when our drinks were gone and I went inside to ask for more. But as soon as I went inside, the door swung open and the background noise suddenly stopped. All the faces turned towards the door. The young man was wearing a baseball cap and was grasping for air.
’I am looking for the sheriff’
’Here I am son, what’s the problem?’
’I have found a body’ – he said with a trembling voice and the whole pub froze.
I don’t know why the sheriff trusted me but for some reason, he thought I might be a good help and told me to join them.
As we were crossing the forest, shadows were moving on the huge pine trees as the headlights were lighting them. Noah, Sarah and I were all quiet in the car, nobody spoke. Also, I had no idea what or who they were talking about. What body? Anyway, I didn’t want to ask anything because I had mixed feelings: I was nervous, excited and scared at the same time. I did not know what I would expect. The warmth and pleasant feeling of the pub and beer still had an after-effect on me but it was wearing off.
When we arrived at the lakeside, there were already some patrol cars. Yellow crime scene tape was being put out by one of the officers. Blue and red flashing lights blinded me. The young man in the pub told us that he and her girlfriend had been looking for an isolated spot to spend a romantic night when they spotted something strange laying on the lakeside. As they were approaching it, they realised that it was once a human. A living one.
‘Where is she?’ – Noah asked one of the sergeants. The man showed us the way towards the lake. As we were approaching the crime scene, I felt my heart in my throat. I saw Frank standing at the lake in the company of two police officers. Another person was taking photos of something on the ground. When we got there I realised what it was.
Although the body was already decayed, the silhouettes of her face were still visible. They told the observer that once she had been a pretty, attractive girl who must have been the dream of many men. She was half naked, her trousers were taken off. The terrible thought that she might have been raped crossed my mind for a moment. Her face was already lifeless but her soul must have been in the heavens – this is how I tried to reassure myself.
But it wasn’t just the body that shocked me.
It was her.
The girl, who had been following me.
She was right. I wouldn’t and couldn’t change, I was an idiot. I decided I would help her. Provided she would tell me where the money was, of course.
After all, that’s what I had always made for a living. Getting shit done for the Dead. And it seemed I would have a hell of a lot of work there.