Party Summer (7 page)

“Maybe she's just stressed out about her aunt,” Eric suggested, staring up at the hotel.

“Maybe,” Cari replied.

“Hey—how about a swim?”

They looked down to the water and heard Craig calling to them, his hands cupped around his
mouth. “Come on!” he shouted, signaling for them to join him.

“I'm ready,” Eric said, whipping off his sunglasses.

He helped Cari up. His hands felt warm on her arms. She smiled at him. He didn't let go of her right away. Their eyes met. “Come on! Let's check out the water!”

That evening, under a sky streaked with scarlet, as the sun lowered behind the pine trees and a pale full moon appeared above them, the four friends found themselves back on the beach.

Eric had apologized to Jan, and she had grudgingly accepted his apology. They had changed into shorts and T-shirts. The cool evening air made their fresh sunburns tingle.

“Wow! I mean, what a sunset!” Craig exclaimed, lying back on the sand and staring up at the sky.

Cari stood next to Eric, watching the colors of the sky reflect on the water. “I feel like I'm in an enchanted place,” she said.

“It's even prettier than Shadyside,” Eric joked. He was standing very close to her. She smiled at him.

“Would somebody help me with this blanket?” Jan was struggling with a large striped beach blanket. Cari hurried over to help her spread it across the sand. They anchored it with the two large picnic baskets they had brought.

“I'm starving,” Craig said, dropping down onto the blanket and starting to pull open the nearest basket. “What did Martin pack for us?”

“Uh … let me guess,” Cari said. “Tuna fish sandwiches?”

“Guess again,” Craig told her, pulling out an elegant platter. “Cold lobster. Wow.”

“What's in this basket?” Eric asked, opening the lid. “Hey—no wonder it was so heavy. It's a big tureen of clam chowder.” He lifted out the big container and then pulled out a bowl filled with salad and two long French breads still warm from the oven.

“What a feast!” Jan declared.

They pulled out the china plates, silverware, and cloth napkins Martin had packed and arranged everything on the blanket. Then they set up and lit the two candles they found at the bottom of the basket. The sky was darkening to purple as the sun sank behind the trees. The moon glowed now as they began to eat dinner, the lapping water of the bay providing soft background music for their elegant beach party.

“I feel like I'm in a movie,” Jan said.

“I've never seen a movie this good!” Cari exclaimed.

Cari lifted her eyes to the hotel, which stood outlined in the darkness, just two first-floor windows lighted, like cat's eyes peering down on them from above.

“After dinner, let's take a swim,” Eric suggested, a devilish grin on his face.

“We don't have our bathing suits,” Craig said.

“So?” Eric replied, his grin growing wider.

“I used to have this recurring dream about swimming at night under a full moon,” Cari said.

“That's a very interesting dream,” Eric said.

“You should be very embarrassed,” Craig added, joining in.

“Oh, shut up,” Jan snapped. “You're both ridiculous.”

“Oh—look!” Cari cried suddenly. She was staring up at the top of the low dune. “There's someone there!”

They all turned to see a large figure, only a shadow in the darkness, standing as still as a statue above them on the dune.

“Who
is
it?” Cari asked, suddenly filled with fear.

T
he large figure stepped out of the shadow into the moonlight.

“Simon!” Jan called.

He gave them a quick wave, not moving from his place at the top of the dune. His lustrous, white linen suit shimmered and glowed in the moonlight.

He looks like a ghost, Cari found herself thinking. She was still trying to get over the shock of seeing him there, so dark and so still.

Now, with his white suit, his slicked-back white hair, and white mustache, Simon radiated light.

“Come down!” Jan called.

“Yes, join us!” Cari shouted up to him.

Simon made his way down the dune, moving with surprising agility. He stood over them, his eyes surveying the blanket. Cari saw that he was carrying a bottle of white wine and a fluted wineglass.

“Is Aunt Rose here?” Jan asked anxiously. “Was she on the launch?”

“No, I'm afraid not,” Simon told her. “But don't worry. I'm sure she's fine. She must have decided to spend a little extra time with her sister in Provincetown.”

“But why didn't she call?” Jan asked anxiously.

“She probably tried this morning before our phone problems were fixed. Don't worry. We shouldn't disturb her tonight—we'll let her rest. But first thing tomorrow we'll talk to her, and all will be well. I promise.” Before Jan could reply, he changed the subject. “I see that Martin has provided you with a little snack,” he said, surveying the remains of the elegant dinner.

Everyone laughed. “It was a little more than a snack,” Cari said, motioning for him to sit down with them.

“Marta, our cook, doesn't return until Friday,” Simon said, smiling. “Martin complains. But I think he enjoys having a chance to be creative in the kitchen.”

“It was great, but now we're too stuffed to do any work tomorrow,” Eric joked.

“Yes, I think I put on ten pounds,” Can added.

“I'll sweat it out of you in the morning. Don't worry,” Simon replied. He sat down nimbly on the edge of the blanket and poured himself a glass of wine. “A toast to you all,” he said, raising the glass to them before taking a long sip.

His expression suddenly turned somber. “I wish Edward had joined us,” he said. “I begged him to come down, but he's being very stubborn.”

“Is your brother sick?” Jan asked with a mouthful of bread.

The question seemed to surprise Simon. “Sick? No,” he said thoughtfully. “He's just very depressed.” He brightened a little. “We Fears can be quite moody, you know.”

“We've all heard stories about your family,” Cari blurted out. “I mean … not
your
family. But your grandparents. You know. Your ancestors, I guess.”

She could feel herself blushing. It wasn't like her to be so tongue-tied.

“Cari lives very near the old Fear mansion back in Shadyside,” Jan explained to Simon.

“My parents love fixing up old houses,” Cari said. “I can see the old Fear mansion from my bedroom window.”

Simon closed his eyes as if trying to picture it. “Yes, yes. There certainly are a lot of stories about that house. And about my family.” He opened his eyes and directed his gaze across the blanket at Cari.

A soft wind swirled around them, as if trying to keep everyone there, to hold them in place.

“Was Simon Fear your grandfather?” Jan asked.

Simon took a sip of wine. “No. He was my grandfather's brother. My great-uncle.”

“But you were named after him?” Jan asked.

“Not exactly.” A strange, crooked smile crossed his face, which was now half-hidden in shadow. “My father's name was Simon too.”

From somewhere in the pine woods an animal began to howl, a sad, mournful sound.

“Tell us about the first Simon Fear,” Jan pleaded
eagerly, leaning forward on the blanket. “Please tell us about the old mansion on Fear Street. Tell us what
really
happened there.”

Cari felt embarrassed. Jan was being impolite, she thought. But Simon didn't seem to mind.

“I don't really know that much,” he said. “I mean, it was long before I was born. And the details, well, they're sketchy, to say the least.” He looked up the sloping dune to the old hotel. “I wish Edward were here. He could tell the story better than I.”

“Oh, please,” Jan urged. “How did the mansion get burned down? Are all those weird stories about Simon Fear true?”

Simon chuckled and put down his wineglass. Everyone leaned forward in anticipation. The candles flickered but didn't go out.

“As I'm sure you know, Simon Fear, my great-uncle, was one of the first settlers of Shadyside,” he began. “He was very rich. At least, that's the way the family has passed the story down.

“He was wealthy when he arrived in Shadyside, although no one knows where his money came from. For that matter, no one seems to know where
Simon
came from!”

“What did he look like?” Jan asked eagerly. “Do you look like him?”

Simon shrugged, the broad shoulders of his white suit jacket seeming to float up into the dark night air. “No one knows what Simon Fear looked like. There are photos from that time of the rest of our family, but there are none of him. That's another of the mysteries.”

He raised his glass, took a sip of wine, licked his lips, then continued. “Another mystery was why he built his fabulous mansion so far from town. For as I'm sure you know, there was no Fear Street in those days. In fact, there were no streets
at all
in that undeveloped part of town. Simon Fear built his enormous mansion back in the woods. It was so completely secluded, it could only be reached by following a dirt path through the trees. That's the path the workers made to get to the house as they were building it.”

“I guess he liked his privacy,” Jan said.

“Well, he was not exactly a private man,” Simon said, contradicting her. “Not at first, anyway. When he moved to Shadyside, Simon and his beautiful young wife, Angelica, were the toasts of the town. They were seen everywhere. Their mansion may have been secluded, but it is said that the lights there were always burning. Simon and Angelica threw lavish parties, and the house was always filled with guests.

“The Fears were extremely popular and well liked,” Simon continued, his face orange in the flickering candlelight. “They did a lot for the town. Simon used his money to build the library, and he helped to build Shadyside's first hospital.”

Simon paused to take a sip of wine. Cari glanced across the blanket at Jan, who had a disappointed expression on her face. So far, at least, this wasn't the kind of story any of them had expected.

“Simon and Angelica had two beautiful daughters,” Simon went on. “Simon adored them both. Adored them too much, maybe. He didn't treat
them like ordinary children. He didn't let them go to school. He brought in a tutor instead. He bought them anything and everything they wanted—and more. One year, so the story goes, he imported an entire circus from Europe—animals and all—and had them give a performance just for one of the girls' birthdays.”

“That's cool,” Eric said.

“Shhh. Don't interrupt,” Jan said.

“It must have seemed to my great-uncle, living such a luxurious life in his secluded mansion, that the good times would go on forever,” Simon said, staring out at the dark water as he continued. An ominous tone had entered his voice. “But they didn't.

“One day Simon's two little girls went out to play in the woods. They didn't return. That night and into the next morning, a frantic search ensued. The story goes that their bodies were found in the woods more than a week later. Their bodies—but not their bones. Their skeletons had been completely removed.”

“Oh, yuck! That
can't
be true!” Cari gasped, suddenly filled with horror, trying to picture two little girls without their bones.

Simon shrugged, his face expressionless in the candlelight. “I'm just telling you the stories that were told to me.”

“How awful! Did the police find the murderer?” Jan asked, her dark eyes wide.

“I don't know if they were invited to try,” Simon said mysteriously. “After that, the lights in the large mansion in the woods never burned again. Everything
changed. Angelica was never seen in town again. The story goes that she went completely mad, locked herself in her room, never came out. At night, people all the way across the woods would hear strange and terrifying howls and cries, coming, they guessed, from Angelica's room.

“And Simon? His life seemed to end as well. Simon lost all his money. Maybe he didn't lose it. Maybe he gave it away. All of the priceless paintings and sculptures in the house were sold, carted away. Simon, too, was never again seen in town. And then, mysteriously, the house burned down.”

“Did Simon burn it down?” Jan asked.

“I don't really know. I don't think anyone does. Some say that Angelica, in her madness, set it aflame to punish Simon for bringing her to the place. Others say that Simon did it, bringing his house to an end along with his life. There was a written report by a man, their nearest neighbor, who happened to be in the woods. I've seen it. This person wrote that the house burst into flame and that the flames roared for hours, but the house didn't burn until much later. ‘Hellfire,' he called it. After that report, few people would venture near the mansion.”