At the sound of a woman shouting, I lowered my phone and glanced up on high alert. It was too early for this kind of bullshit. She was walking out of the bathroom tent, wiping her face. I looked around to see who she was arguing with, but there was no one following her. So weird. I went back to my phone.
“That fortune-teller was dumb,” Dee said, standing beside me.
“You finished that fast?”
“Girl, you’ve been in line forever.”
“Where are Martín and Jose?” I looked around.
“Getting more drinks.”
My eyes widened. I wasn’t sure I could handle more drinks right now. “So, what did the fortune-teller say?”
Dee scoffed. “According to fake Ms. Cleo, I’m going to die soon and my best friend is going to get kidnapped by the Devil.”
“Oh. Typical Tuesday on the island, then?”
“I guess.” She let out a laugh.
“Hey, these people don’t know what they’re talking about.” I bumped her with my shoulder.
“Don’t they? Our ancestors built this island on that kind of intuition.”
“On fables. You can’t take these things to heart.” I shot her a pointed look. “My grandmother reads tea saucers every day. If I were to believe a word she said about mine . . . ” I shook my head.
“What does she say?”
“Nonsense.” I shrugged a shoulder. “Who knows.”
“You never listen to her, do you?” She sounded a little more upbeat now, so I smiled a little, but just barely because she wasn’t wrong. “You know what? I’m going to go get my tea read while you go to the restroom.” She started walking away, then looked over her shoulder with a frown. “You sure you’ll be fine?”
“If you’re asking if the Devil will be waiting for me in the bathroom, I think the answer is no,” I said.
Dee laughed loudly. “Good luck.”
Sighing, I turned my head to count how many were in front of me. Three. I was finally almost there. I was scrolling through the comments on my pictures when I saw one that caught my eye.
BEWARE: He who holds the keys to Caliban Manor is cursed for life.
My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t even taken pictures of the house yet, but I knew it wouldn’t sell with comments like that. I usually didn’t pay them much attention, but something about it made me click on it and read the responses beneath it.
Car3092: Did you hear they’re putting the house up for sale? My uncle has stories of that place, my dude. He went there in 1990 and was forever changed.
FFOE: @Car3092 I’m surprised your uncle made it out
Rose30: I’ve lived on the island my entire life. No one even visits that side of the island unless they’re 100 years old and need some weird shit for one of their weird potions.
Car3092: @FFOE—I know. He was always surprised he made it out alive
FFOE: @Rose30 the witches? Are they real?
Rose30: depends what you classify as a witch
FFOE: Are you a witch?
Rose30: If being a badass, independent, forward-thinking woman makes me a witch, then yes.
FFOE: *eye roll*
Car3092: we’re not in the 1800s anymore @Rose30
FFOE: exactly. We don’t persecute people for being feminists.
Rose30: Yet this entire thread is dedicated to warning people against Caliban Manor. Why? Because its inhabitants are rumored to be witches.
Car3092: Aren’t they all men?
Rose30: Men have babies?
FFOE: The surviving members are men
Rose30: Surviving members? Wtf are you people on?
FFOE: There’s a curse on that house. Everyone knows it. Why else would you stay on the other side of the island?
Rose30: Because my family’s from La Bahia and I prefer the sun, thank you very much
I clicked the side button on my phone and put it in my bag once the woman in front of me disappeared into the tent. Curses, witches, the darkness on this side of the island. Those were all things that had driven the tourism here for so many years to begin with, but the fact that so many who had never been here knew about it was incredible. I wondered how many hits this place got on Google Maps.
“Next.” The voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked at the man towering over the door and stepped forward.
“I didn’t realize bathrooms needed bodyguards,” I said.
“This bathroom does. When you finish, exit this way. Don’t take any detours.” He shot me a look.
“Where would I detour to? It’s a freaking tent.”
“I’m just saying, you need to check in here if you’re on the list.” He waved the clipboard in his hand.
I nodded and ran into the bathroom. When I finished, I washed my hands and fixed the makeup under my eyes. I definitely looked drunk. I felt drunk. I laughed at my reflection as I rolled the paper towel into a ball and tossed it in the trash can beside me. When I stepped outside, I could see the back of the man’s head, which meant he wasn’t looking at me. I glanced over to my right. There was a hallway. I had two options: go back outside and get on that list or find out what the list was for before going back out there and trying to get on the list. I decided on the latter because fuck bodyguards. Besides, the tequila had given me the bravado I needed.