22

Straightening his suit and pulling a tie from the depths of his duffle, Leo joined Miss Isabelle in the chapel. She eyed his attire, and shook her head. “You’d be better off with a collar when meeting the likes of Red O’Rourke,” she shared. “He’s what you young people would call ‘old school.’”

Leo shrugged his shoulders. “I’m fresh out of collars, unfortunately. But what’s the big deal about Red O’Rourke? Why does everyone seem so intimidated by him?”

“Oh, I’m not intimidated by him, dear,” Miss Isabelle replied, looking up at Leo. “He’s just a man set in his old ways and determined that everyone else should follow them, too. But believe me, he better show you respect or I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”

The front door of the chapel creaked open, and Gillian stuck her head in. She had clearly freshened up, tidying her hair and reapplying makeup. She looked the most at ease that she had in the time Leo had been around her, but it probably helped both of them that they weren’t on a boat. When she saw that both Miss Isabelle and Leo were there, she entered the chapel completely, and took in the simple beauty of the space. “I’m not much of a churchgoer myself,” she admitted, with a quick glance Leo’s way, “but this place certainly has its allure.”

Leo shared that he too had been struck by the sanctuary’s simplicity, which set off a ten-minute oratory by Miss Isabelle about the chapel’s humble beginnings after the American Revolutionary War. A soldier returning from the war had been forever changed by the atrocities he had seen there and had set out to devote his life to peace. Building the chapel had been his first effort, as he returned to Tranquility after the war and married his sweetheart. Together, they had found the appropriate artisans to bring the chapel its style after approaching the O’Rourke family about charitable giving. To Leo’s surprise, O’Rourke’s ancestors had been driven by their faith to fund the entire building process.

Isabelle recounted the generations of people who were buried in the cemetery, including her mother and father, people who had cleared space for houses and built up the kind of environment that made tourists want to visit. She pointed out that most people were buried on the mainland anymore because of a lack of space, but she hoped one day to be toes up in the cemetery out behind the chapel. She listed off famous people who had visited the chapel over the last one hundred and fifty years, and even Gillian seemed impressed, if only momentarily. 

While the fountain of information sent Gillian fumbling again for something to write with, Leo sat down with a sigh and pulled out a well worn hymnal. The cover was faded and a bit torn, its pages curled and dogeared from some parishioner’s interest. A slim piece of paper fell into his hand, and he saw the order of worship from a year ago, presumably the last time Father Matthew had led a service at the chapel. He could see that the connection to the past was alive and well within the church, too, like bloodlines running through the island. He wondered what it would take to bring the chapel that kind of vibrant spirit again, and ran his fingers over the worn hymnal cover. 

Leo was shaken out of his inspection by Gillian’s touch on his shoulder, firm and a bit cold. “It’s time to head up to O’Rourke’s place,” she explained, indicating that Miss Isabelle was halfway out of the door already. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t know where anything is, so if we want to get there, we better follow her.”

The two newest occupants of the town caught up to Miss Isabelle under the arch of pine trees that kept the cobblestone road cool and shaded. After a few hundred yards, it was obvious that more people lived in quaint homes made of stone and wood available throughout New England, and probably elsewhere on the island. While the homes weren’t immediately obvious from Main Street, the visitors could see the beauty and craftsmanship of the different homes that the settlers of Tranquility Island had instilled in their community. Only the trees that were necessary to be cleared had been cut down; the footprint of each property still left room for common forest between homes. The road itself wasn’t even wider than necessary to accommodate two-way foot traffic. When asked, Miss Isabelle said that a few of the families had wagons but they had voted to ban motor vehicles from the island back in the 1970s. 

A few of the homes had lazy spires of smoke rising from their chimneys, and Leo could smell the wood fires as they walked casually but purposefully up the hill. Soon, they crested the hill and came into an opening that stretched on for a few miles. Over another stretch of forest to the east, Leo could barely see the top of a lighthouse on the ocean side of the island. The cobblestone path continued in several directions, including to the massive mansion on the hill. 

Miss Isabelle pointed out that one of the paths led down a set of stairs hewed into the rock, the whole way down to the water. Looking over, Leo and Gillian could see that at this point, the tide had risen to obscure any beach to walk on, as the water lapped at the stairs and up the cliff wall. The rock steps were massive, intimidating even, but they had been cut with such precision that Leo knew that there would be no trouble climbing down to the cove at low tide. Gillian looked like she wanted to descend the steps and check it out further, but Miss Isabelle pulled her by the arm and pressed on ahead toward O’Rourke’s mansion, not wanting to keep their host waiting. 

Rising some five stories, the mansion was the largest edifice that they had seen on the island. Its architectural style stood out as well, given that the masonry was different, more elaborate than any of the quiet New England homes that they had passed on the way up the hill. They observed a fountain out in the yard leading up to the house, shooting arcs of water high into the air and back down into the pool below. Statues of cherubs and nymphs adorned the garden walk, and gargoyles of different shapes and sizes outlined the roof and awnings. 

The lawn around the mansion was manicured, with flowers planted in beds all around it. Two massive Dobermans lazed away the afternoon sun on the steps as they walked up, eyeballing them as they approached. Neither one seemed particularly concerned by the approaching guests, but Leo and Gillian still skirted them while keeping a side eye on the canines. Miss Isabelle however plowed on through, walking directly between the dogs, and stepping over one of their tails to maintain her course directly toward the front door of the mansion.

One of the dogs lifted its head, growling as they passed, but Miss Isabelle said, “Poseidon!” and the dog immediately whimpered, and rolled onto its back to have its stomach rubbed with some force. The other one nudged Isabelle with its head until she acknowledged it as Neptune, and rubbed its stomach, too. Apparently Miss Isabelle’s stern teacher voice wasn’t only good for keeping human children in their place. 

“These dogs look so terrifying,” she chuckled. “They’re big hearted and loving, but they’ve been known to go after a tourist wandering around the grounds who acts like they’re at home in Mr. Rourke’s yard!”

Rising from her kneeling position next to the dogs, Miss Isabelle continued to the massive wooden doors that stood as the main entry to the mansion. More gargoyles looked down at the three of them as they closed the distance, and Leo could feel the weight of the building looming above them. Isabelle rapped on the giant wooden door with the door knocker that looked like it weighed as much as she did, but barged in without waiting for a response. Gillian looked at Poseidon and Neptune who were staring at the newcomers, eyes now locked on the newcomers. She shook her head, turned to Leo, and grinned, before following Miss Isabelle into the mansion itself. 

Leo took a furtive glance back at the dogs and then darted through the wooden doors behind her.

23

In the upstairs study, O’Rourke was wrapping up a conversation with one of his oldest friends, Francois Burchard. The tall dapper gentleman had started off in O’Rourke’s employ when he was captaining cruise ships and had risen up the ladder as O’Rourke had seen much of himself in the other man. Hardworking, disciplined, and a man of few words, Burchard was twenty years younger than O’Rourke, and treated O’Rourke like the father he had never had. Now, circulating the world as a cruise ship captain on the Princess Kay, Burchard had taken the opportunity to seek his old mentor out. But he was troubled by the conversation. 

Burchard pulled at the corner of his well-manicured mustache. He was in his off-duty clothes, but the man traded a pressed white uniform for a sleek suit when the opportunity presented itself. His shoes were spit shined, and he could still make a mile time as he had during his time with the Merchant Marines. He expected things to be planned out and done properly, and O’Rourke had mentioned several details that were potentially unnerving. 

“You’re saying that you know about drugs coming to and from Tranquility,” repeated Burchard, “and traveling back and forth via a cruise ship?” Beads of sweat were building on his forehead and upper lip, and most concerning were the ways that he found himself unable to look his mentor in the eye. 

“That’s correct,” responded O’Rourke, fixing an unblinking eye on his mentee. “I wanted you to know what I had discovered, because I’m confident the authorities are going to be looking into the matter shortly.”

Burchard stared out the window, watching as the sun’s fading rays played across the waters. He couldn’t see the Princess Kay, docked off the shore on the other side of the island, but he knew that the cooks would be laying out a fabulous spread and that soon the majority of travelers would be descending on one of the ship’s three dining rooms. He was a student of precision and discipline, and everything aboard his ship must run smoothly. 

To think that O’Rourke had discovered of impropriety on the Kay without Burchard’s awareness? Inconceivable! There was a host of problems that this conversation raised, but Burchard didn’t want to let his mentor see just how troubled he was. 

“I’m sure that the Kay isn’t the problem,” he responded, slowly. “But I can speak to the other captains about the issue, and I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this. There’s no need to worry about Tranquility on my account!” 

O’Rourke chuckled. “Oh, Tranquility will be just fine. It always has been. But I would hate for you to wind up as collateral if the authorities find out the drugs are connected to the Kay. That would be disastrous for your reputation.” 

“I just wanted you to have a head’s up,” he added, comfortingly, patting the younger man’s knee. 

“Thank you, sir,” said Burchard, standing up. He almost saluted but caught himself mid-salute. O’Rourke rose stiffly and shook his hand, and then led him out of the study. 

Burchard told himself to breathe slowly, but his hands were shaking and he felt a tremor roll up and down his left leg. 

24

The entryway was several stories high with ornate wooden paneling stretching skyward. Windows on the second and third stories allowed natural light to break in, while chandeliers and recessed lights provided bright illumination within the house. While the majority of the work was historic in nature, someone had certainly taken the time to add the modern conveniences to the preexisting mansion. 

On the walls hung portraits of people over time, clearly the ancestors of Red O’Rourke, who Leo saw was also depicted in the picture closest to the stairs. All of the people in the paintings were tall and redheaded. O’Rourke’s grandparents and great grandparents had been depicted in front of and within the chapel, but Leo could see the changes in religious status, as O’Rourke’s parents were painted sitting outside of the mansion. O’Rourke himself stood alone in what must’ve been his study. There was much to be learned from observing what made the man tick, thought Leo. As Gillian and Leo turned circles taking it all in, a voice from above them boomed out. 

“Welcome to the O’Rourke family home! I hear David has invited you all for dinner.”

Descending the decadent stairs, Red O’Rourke looked to be in a slightly better mood than he had been earlier that day when Leo had first observed him. He was wearing a silk evening jacket now, and his giant hand gripped the bannister as he approached them. Beneath shaggy red eyebrows, his green eyes flashed as he closed the distance between them, even half-smiling at Miss Isabelle. With him was a pale, well dressed man, who O’Rourke introduced as Captain Burchard. The man appeared to be elsewhere mentally, but he formally greeted each of the newcomers before excusing himself to the bathroom.

O’Rourke had grunted his introductions to Leo and Gillian, taking her offered hand in both of his massive hands, and inclining his head respectfully. He eyed Leo from head to toe, but seemed to be withholding judgment, at least temporarily. After a few moments of small talk, he allowed Miss Isabelle to take him by the arm and to lead him down the hallway toward an open door. The two of them engaged in conversational whispers that were lost to Leo and Gillian who were caught up staring at all of the portraits on the walls. 

Leo could see that whatever conflict had happened over the chapel, O’Rourke was not going to hold it against Miss Isabelle for long as he leaned in to listen to her voice. As they wandered away, David came striding out from another section of the downstairs, looking troubled, and throwing his sport coat over a wrinkled polo shirt. But when he saw his two guests, he greeted the two more warmly, thanking them for making the trek up the hill. 

“Let me show you around,” he added, steering them into a series of interlocked rooms that ran along the front side of the mansion. One was a study, filled with books, artwork, and exotic looking trinkets, clearly the background for O’Rourke’s portrait. “Red was once the captain of a cruise ship that sailed all around the world. He’d bring home these amazing souvenirs, like handcrafted talismans from Africa or dolls from China. He doesn’t talk about them much anymore, but he clearly has some stories he could tell,” David explained, wistfully. “And of course, he liked to bring home exotic.. Food.”

Before they entered the room, Leo could hear the hushed sounds of a parent fussing and a child’s excited questions. Entering the next room, Gillian and Leo could see some of the “food” Red O’Rourke had acquired and see what was causing the commotion. Just barely above head high, the heads of an elephant, a lion, a tiger, a bear, a rhino, and a gorilla leered down at them. Gillian recoiled, as she almost slammed the top of her head into a zebra head that had not quite reached the same height as the others, indicating it had been less admired than some of O’Rourke’s more terrifying kills. Leo caught Gillian before she stumbled too far, and she nodded gratefully for the quick save. 

Betty Williams was tugging at Bryan’s arm, as he hung upside down on the belly of a stuffed cheetah that had been mounted on a platform in the corner. George was too caught up in the various pictures of O’Rourke with famous people in different spots around the world to notice his wife’s distress until she hissed his name, and he hurriedly went over to pluck Bryan with one hand from the cheetah’s body. 

The Williamses officially introduced themselves to Leo and Gillian, and nodded to David, whom they had met earlier in the day. O’Rourke had actually invited them to dinner, they shared although they had yet to see him. Apparently he had another meeting prior to dinner. Betty expressed her surprise at O’Rourke’s philanthropic nature allowing for the big game trophies, and then blushed having openly commented on the host. 

“Red needs to feel like he’s bigger and better than most everyone else,” David shared, wryly. “These are a few of the mementos he uncovered while he was abroad, but there are even more upstairs. He definitely sees those years as his glory years, but I think, well, I hope, that his mentality has changed.” 

Leo and Gillian could tell that David didn’t approve of his uncle’s trophies, but there was a measure of affection that was transparent as well. As they moved around the room, and into the next one, dedicated to hundreds and hundreds of old books, he would stop periodically and touch framed photographs of Red and others in different locations around the world. Gillian identified some of the people in O’Rourke’s pictures as famous, and a few more were known to her but she just couldn’t place them. “He was a real mover and a shaker once,” David explained. “He made quite a bit of money back in the day.”

With a clap of her hands, Miss Isabelle entered from the dim hallway, disrupting the quiet. “Carol has dinner ready,” she exclaimed. “Come and get it while it’s hot!”

The three younger folks followed her into the dining room, a tall and elaborate ballroom with parquet floors and gilded walls. The table was set for twelve, but only Red was seated at the extensive stretch of wood enhanced with gold and other jewels. A petite woman in an unadorned dress had just been seated, but she hopped up out of her chair, and vigorously shook hands with the two guests. “I’m Carol, and I do the cooking here, as well as some laundry and odds and ends,” she shared, shyly. The quiet woman was approximately the same age as O’Rourke and Miss Isabelle, but she took charge in doing the serving. 

As Gillian, Leo, Isabelle, David, and the Williamses took their seats, the front door knocker rattled with the sound of the door flinging open, and then voices were echoing through the hall, as they walked toward the dining room. Nails skittered on the hardwood floor outside of the dining room and then Poseidon and Neptune came bounding in, tongues and slobber flying. O’Rourke put up a hand silently and the two dogs slid to a stop on the floor at his feet. Dr. Steinman and Johnny soon followed along with Captain Burchard, eliciting more grumbles from their host, about timeliness and godliness. 

Leo found himself seated between Bryan Williams and Gillian. Gillian’s face radiated interest in the people present and the stories she could no doubt reap from interrogating them. On the other hand, Bryan seemed disinterested in everything going on around him. His mother tried to do her best to keep him from climbing underneath the ornately laid table, but he soon played peekaboo with Leo from underneath the tablecloth. O’Rourke just growled, and the majority of adults tried to ignore the boy.

Carol and Miss Isabelle exchanged a look, and went back to serving the grilled chicken, green beans, and sauteed potatoes onto everyone’s plates. Casually, Betty supplied Bryan with cheese sticks and goldfish crackers that she slipped out of her bag. The little boy slid the chicken off of his plate when no one other than Leo was looking, and fed it to the dogs, which had slid up to his chair waiting expectantly. No one ate more than Leo, who drew amused looks from several of the others when he asked for thirds and fourths of the mash potatoes. Carol just beamed from ear to ear and provided him with whatever he was asking for at the time. Gillian rolled her eyes and continued to pick away at the food. 

There was polite chit-chat around the table, mostly about the impending annual migration and the nor’easter that was predicted to cross over Tranquility later in the week. Gillian made a few notes for her writing later, but the newest arrivals sat back to soak up what the Tranquility residents had to say about life on the island. When dinner was over, O’Rourke pushed back from the table and announced that he was going to the parlor and instructed Carol to bring him a fresh mug of coffee. When Miss Isabelle raised an eyebrow, he apologized to Carol and asked her to provide him with one. Turning to the rest of the table, O’Rourke begrudgingly invited the others to join him.

Everyone could tell that it wasn’t a real invitation, and that they were all dismissed. O’Rourke’s ability to be hospitable had certainly been stretched to its limits by now, right? But Miss Isabelle announced that they would all love to join O’Rourke in the parlor for coffee. The Williamses begged out of the invitation, offering that they needed to take Bryan back to the bed and breakfast for a bath and bedtime. Leo sent the boy on his way with an origami lion fashioned out of a napkin, and the boy high fived him as he left the dining room. 

Carol began to clear the remnants of dinner off of the table, and several of the guests moved to join her. Leo and David laughed, as they both went to enter the kitchen at the same time, and couldn’t squeeze through. 

“You certainly seemed to enjoy the food!” David remarked as they emptied scraps into the trash can. 

“I think I could eat that meal over and over again for eternity,” Leo admitted, loading dishes into the industrial sized dishwasher. 

“Carol certainly has a gift with food,” agreed David. “She’s been cooking here for as long as I can remember, and there’s always been enough for whoever shows up for dinner. Red isn’t big on asking people over, but Miss Isabelle is usually bringing home some strays.”

Leo put his hand up in mock anger. “Are you calling me a stray, sir?” He laughed again. “You’re the one who invited us, remember?”

David nodded. “I know, I know. Miss Isabelle has been almost a mother to me. She made sure I was doing my schoolwork, and when I needed new clothes because I’d outgrown my old ones, she made sure Red provided what I needed.” 

By now, Gillian had stopped snooping around the dining room paintings and decorations, and had joined them in the kitchen. She stared at the enormity of the cabinets, the variety of the utensils and extensive offering of spices, herbs, and condiments. “This place is ridiculous!” she announced to no one in particular. 

Carol smiled, as she loaded the dishes into the giant dishwasher. “Mr. O’Rourke was used to the scale of the cruise ship kitchen when he retired here, so he had the kitchen rebuilt to provide all of the amenities the ship’s kitchen would have. He spared no expense!”

With this, Carol waved her hand at the four or five different machines that Leo could tell were designed to make various forms of coffee and tea. Who needed a Starbucks when you could have an O’Rourke’s?

Chapters 25-27 coming April 19!