The three were waiting patiently at the Harbourville docks when Valentine finally broke the silence.
"So, let me just refresh for a second. Just to get this one hundred percent right. The lady emailed you about a haunting. You emailed her back asking for more information. She said she needs to explain it in person so we should meet at the Sleepy Smiles Coffee Shop on Victoria Island?"
"Yes." JJ nodded.
"And so all three of us are going to said island to meet up with M… what was her name?"
"Molly Mourne." Trudy reminded, not taking her eyes off her book she had been enthralled in.
"Right, yes, Molly Mourne. And she'll then explain what we're investigating after we all go to the coffee shop."
JJ gave his brother a condescending slow clap "Very good, you explained that quite well, Valentine. I don't think there's anything you're missing."
Valentine stood up from the bench, hands to his hips "I do! I'm missing why we have to spend our hard earned money to get on a boat to go to Victoria Island without knowing exactly what we're hired to do!"
"It's not like jobs have been leaping towards us lately. Ever since that train incident it's like we've been…" Trudy closed her book and placed a hand on its hardback cover. She was trying to find the exact words to describe how she felt but she couldn't. Trudy de la Rosa was stumped.
"I feel it too." JJ admitted, Trudy looked to her friend with relief. "It's like we've been on pause."
Valentine sat back down between his brother and Trudy.
"Guys. Do you think it has anything to do with Dr. Cecil H.H. Mills… you know…"
Trudy placed her thumb to her lips and began biting the nail "No, no that can't be it. If he's dead then shouldn't we be dead? Shouldn't all of this?"
"Maybe his death was the reason for that weird pause. Maybe we did die with him. Question is: How are we still here if he isn't?" JJ asked.
"Maybe that's the case we should be taking." Valentine huffed.
"We can figure out why we're not dead later." Trudy proclaimed, snapping the boys out of their rut. "We promised Molly we'd help her. Then after that case we can question our existentialism as characters in a book with a deceased author."
A boats air horn blew, silencing any response from the boys. Then they, along with a handful of other people, boarded a rather small white ship. To call it a ship is an understatement. It was more a ferryboat or one of those boats rich people rent for a night to host vivacious parties. I could have owned one of those boats. But that's what I get for not sticking with my plan. Painful regrets aside, the three found comfy seats beside a window so they could view the water around them.
After about an hour of watching the very exciting water—sometimes catching a glimpse of a fish or two, a man in a blue vest approached them.
"Is there any way I can make your journey to Victoria Island more comfortable?" He asked in the least enthusiastic voice known to man.
"We're good, thanks." Valentine answered.
"Who're you?" Trudy looked at the man who seemed to actually be close to their age.
He pointed to a nametag on his vest that contained the letters Bo.
"Is that short for Robert?" JJ asked.
The man looked down at the nametag, as if seeing it for the first time. "No. Just Bo."
"No last name?" Trudy continued to prod.
Just then his nametag became longer as more letters were added.
"Your fingers must have been covering your last name." JJ suggested, not wanting to acknowledge the weird phenomenon of a nametag randomly stretching.
"Atman." Bo answered.
"Bo Atman?" Trudy sighed. "Boat man. If it is Dr. Mills writing this he's become very lazy with names."
"I happen to like my name!" Bo furrowed his brow.
"At least he has a name, Trudy. Remember our train engineer friend?" JJ nudged her with his elbow.
"A stupid name is less lazy than no name." Valentine added.
Despite the fact that I resented that, I chose to include it in this writing solely to point out that people make mistakes. However, I didn't want to name her because, if you recall, I didn't want to write the engineering car. You all forced me to. Ergo, I responded to that with pettiness. I will never apologize for being petty. You can quote me on that and send it to my former associates at Bradford and Bradford.
In my ramblings, Bo had left the group to their devices. Then JJ stood up with a grin.
"I know! Dr. Cecil faked his death!"
Valentine sunk in his seat "JJ… I don't think so. He was pretty dead."
"He can come back! They always do that in superhero movies and sequels! Nobody really stays dead for monetary reasons!" JJ beamed.
"This isn't a superhero movie. This was a book. And he was our author. And he's gone." Trudy spoke solemnly.
"But… but he can't be gone. He created us. All of us. All of this. Nothing would exist without him. But it does. It continues to exist. So… he's not dead."
Trudy shook her head, "I hope you're right, JJ. Right, Valentine?"
"I hope he's right." Valentine sighed, "But he's not."
The three spent the rest of the boat ride in silence, thinking of their existence. Usually this train of thought was reserved for three in the morning on sleepless nights. But this exception was warranted—and worrying.
