THE CAMBODIAN CURSE AND OTHER STORIES Page 12

  Priya raised a skeptical eyebrow and stepped across the boat to sit with her brother. “Why is the island covered in fog? There’s no fog anywhere else around here.”

  “Why it’s the curse, of course,” Vik said with a straight face. But he couldn’t hold it. A second later, he burst out laughing. He’d always been a terrible actor.

  “Who’s that standing with Broderick?” Sanjay asked.

  Vik followed Sanjay’s gaze. “You don’t recognize Kevin?” Kevin was a good friend of Vik’s from high school, but Sanjay remembered him as a scrawny kid who didn’t remotely resemble the portly man on the boat. On second thought, Sanjay revised his opinion. In baggy jeans, an oversize t-shirt, and floppy brown hair tousled by the wind, Kevin only appeared big and slovenly in such close proximity to Broderick’s bespoke suit and close-cropped strawberry blond hair.

  “Do you guys know,” Sanjay heard Kevin shout over the crashing waves, “what one strand of DNA said to the other? Do these genes make me look fat? Get it? Genes, not jeans.”

  “Why would DNA be talking?” asked Elena.

  “It’s a joke.”

  “Oh.”

  Sanjay closed his eyes and practiced his breathing exercises for the rest of the short boat ride that wasn’t nearly short enough. When the sound of the engine changed, he opened his eyes. He was alone on the bench. Everyone else stood at the front of the boat, watching the impressive sight coming into view.

  A light fog surrounded them. Cloud Castle dominated the island from its perch on the single hill. Up close, it no longer looked as ominously mysterious as it had from the mainland, yet it was still a strange sight. The secluded Gothic manor that loomed at the top of the hill looked centuries old, though Sanjay was pretty sure the artificial island had been built only ten years before. His best friend Jaya was usually the one who was interested in history, whereas Sanjay preferred to live in the present. But right now, the present was very much caught in the past. The castle and all of its trimmings looked straight out of an Agatha Christie novel.

  After the boat dropped them off, Vik punched in a security code at a gate where the dock met land. That broke the spell of Sanjay thinking he’d stepped into a Gothic detective novel—at least for the moment.

  With two trunks of magic show equipment, Sanjay was the slowest to make his way to shore. He watched the group walk up the sloping path leading to the castle a few hundred feet beyond. Now that he stood on the secluded island itself, Sanjay was again struck by an oppressive presence. It filled the path leading from the dock to the mansion. This time, it wasn’t his fanciful imagination. The expressions on the faces of the people trekking up to the house told him this was a volatile mix of personalities.

  Broderick also lingered behind. “Uffern dam,” he mumbled.

  Sanjay raised an eyebrow.

  The Welshman laughed. “Bloody hell, Sanjay. Bloody hell.” He sighed, picked up Priya’s bulging suitcase, and followed the others to the castle.

  The sound of the boat’s motor faded into the distance. They were stranded.

  Two watchful gargoyles looked down from their perch atop the stone castle. Sanjay ignored the beasts and followed the others through the twenty-foot-high door that led into the mansion. Stepping into a grand room with Gothic arches above, Sanjay let out a low whistle. He wasn’t surprised to see a suit of armor standing next to the door. Two winding staircases led to a mezzanine overlooking the central room.

  “All the bedrooms have been made up,” Vik said, pointing to the doors on the mezzanine. “Take your pick. The rooms in this main wing are the best.”

  “Don’t we need keys?” Broderick asked.

  Vik shook his head. “It’s a secure private island. Who’s going to steal anything? The rooms lock from the inside for privacy, though. And the bedroom windows don’t open. There’s central air and heat.”

  Sanjay selected a bedroom with a king size canopy bed and an antique wooden wardrobe that reminded him of a spirit cabinet he’d used for a spiritualist illusion, then joined the others downstairs for brunch. With the awkward mix of personalities, he was glad it was a champagne brunch.

  While the others helped themselves to additional mimosas, Sanjay slipped away to check out the theater behind the castle where he would be performing the following night. Next to the eighty-seat outdoor theater he found a fire pit, a massive swimming pool, and faux antique wooden tables and benches.

  The way the theater was constructed, the audience was given a view of both the Pacific Ocean and the stage. To a magician, this was both good and bad. There were many opportunities for misdirection, but at the same time, fewer places available to hide things from the audience. Planning to begin the show at sunset was the way to go.

  He retrieved his wheeled trunks and brought them to the stage. He sought one item in particular. With a smile, he lifted his specially made bowler hat onto his head and got to work. A panel at the side of the stage controlled spotlights. They were more limited than he was used to, but they would do. He decided upon one of his favorite illusions that involved a projector and simple substitution. He practiced a few times until he got it right for this particular stage.

  “Bravo!” A deep voice echoed in the distance.

  Sanjay squinted past the spotlight. He could have sworn he was alone. During brunch, Vik, Geneva, and Kevin said they wanted to explore the castle, Priya changed into a zebra-print bikini to sunbathe, and Broderick went with her. That left the twins.

  “Encore!”

  It was a female voice this time. Sanjay stepped forward and jumped down from the stage. Emilio and Elena sat in the last row of seats, their thin shoulders touching.

  “You’re going to discover my secrets,” Sanjay said, but with a smile on his face.

  “We’d be happy to sign a non-disclosure agreement,” Emilio said.

  At first, Sanjay thought he was joking, but Emilio’s face was dead serious.

  “We like seeing how things work,” Elena added.

  There was something not quite normal about the twins. At brunch that morning, they’d sat together at one end of the twenty-seat dining table in the grand room, eating only grapefruit and toast. The kitchen had been fully stocked for the first day of Vik’s visit, including prepared meals that only needed to be reheated. An hour after landing, Sanjay was feeling fine, so he’d had plenty of both coffee and champagne in addition to the full English breakfast provided.

  Some reporters asserted that the twins were autistic, but Sanjay suspected it was more likely they were geniuses who’d withdrawn from attention after being blindsided by success so early in life. Unlike Sanjay and Vik, they hadn’t grown up in privilege. Their parents had been born in a village in Mexico. Emilio and Elena were born in Los Angeles and had grown up with two other siblings in a one-bedroom apartment. Being on the cover of Wired Magazine at seventeen must have been overwhelming.

  “We could be your assistants tomorrow,” Emilio added. “It looks like the box substitution trick could use an—”

  “Thanks,” Sanjay cut him off. “I think.”

  “Are you going to use the island’s ‘curse’ reputation in your show?” Emilio asked.

  Elena shivered. Her brother drew back and stared at her. “You don’t believe in the curse, El.”

  “Not the curse,” Elena said, then hesitated. “Not exactly. But something is going to happen this weekend. Can’t you feel it?”

  Sanjay practiced for the remaining hours before dinner. Emilio had been right. His substitution was way too obvious in an outdoor theater. He hefted himself onto a boulder overlooking a sheer drop to the ocean and stood facing the mainland, thinking he was most likely on the highest natural spot on the island. Just a few short miles away, the Golden Gate Bridge carried people from Marin to San Francisco where tens of thousands of people were currently wrapping up their work week on a Friday afternoon. Thousan
ds more energetic entrepreneurs would be working all weekend on their start-up ideas, hoping their work would turn them into the next Vik, Broderick, or the team of Emilio and Elena.

  As close as that hive of activity was, this island felt like a different world. Sanjay shivered as a gust of sea air surprised him, nearly knocking off his bowler hat. That wouldn’t do. He jumped down from the rock and sat next to it, resting his back against the semi-smooth surface.

  Like Elena, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss on the island. The whole thing was an artificial construct, both physically and psychologically. A false island with a storybook castle for a man-child with more money than sense. It was flattering that Vik had thought of including him after all these years, but he could no longer claim to understand his friend’s motivations.

  “What are you doing out here?” Vik loomed above Sanjay, startling the magician out of his fanciful thoughts.

  “Waiting until sunset so I can do a run-through.”

  “I thought you had your act down by now.”

  “It’s different in each setting. Different stages lend themselves to different illusions.” Illustrating his point, a gust of wind knocked off his hat. “A secure turban,” he added as he ran after his hat, “is the way to go for this show.”

  Vik grinned. “This is going to be great.”

  “As long as your guests aren’t expecting a concert.”

  “Everyone gets indie rock bands at their parties,” Vik said. “Or sometimes a rapper. Having The Hindi Houdini is much more authentic.”

  “And memorable.”

  “All publicity is good publicity. It’s a win-win situation. I get to see my old friend, you get to show your stellar show to a new crowd, and on top of all that, my party will stand out. So actually, it’s a win-win-win situation.”

  After doing a satisfactory run-through, Sanjay joined the others at the castle. He found the group inside the conservatory—a glass greenhouse attached to the side of the castle—arguing about a music playlist. It was nearly dark now, and the muted red glow of the sun’s fading light shone through the room’s glass walls.

  Sanjay wondered how often a gardener came to the island to tend to the greenery, an assortment of stunning tropical plants and practical herbs for cooking. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that automatic waterspouts were positioned to tend to each of the plants. Also hidden from view were electric sockets and music player docks. It was over one of these that Vik and Priya were arguing about whose music they should listen to.

  “How about heading inside for appetizers,” Kevin suggested. The most affable of the group, he’d played peacemaker since they were kids.

  The group of eight gathered in the grand room below the mezzanine. A selection of drinks and glassware adorned the top of an antique buffet table. If there had been a butler standing next to it, and there hadn’t been bags of potato chips on a nearby tray, Sanjay would have been convinced he’d stepped into the previous century.

  “I need to take care of some work,” Broderick said. “I’ll be back down for dinner.”

  After Broderick departed, Vik picked up an old-fashioned crystal decanter with a metal nozzle on top. “Is this how you work this thing?” He pointed it at a tumbler and squeezed the trigger. Carbonated water squirted forcefully into the glass.

  The sound of muffled barking caused Vik to let go of the seltzer water trigger. “That wasn’t this thing,” he said. “Was it?”

  The barking came again.

  “There are dogs on the island?” Priya asked. “Vik, you didn’t tell me to bring my allergy medication.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a dog,” Geneva said.

  “A sea lion?” Sanjay suggested. “There could be sea lions sunning themselves on the rocks.”

  “Only one way to find out,” Kevin said. He popped a potato chip into his mouth and led the way outside through the main door.

  They followed the sound of the barking, coming from the rocky side of the island past the conservatory. By the time they reached the edge of the rocks, the sound had stopped.

  “That was too weird,” Kevin said. “They have to be here somewhere. They can’t have just disappeared.”

  Everyone agreed. They split up and circled the small island.

  “Looks like we missed them,” Geneva said as soon as they regrouped ten minutes later.

  “Strange,” Vik said. “I read up on this place and nothing mentioned sea lions.”

  “You rent out this spooky, cursed island,” Kevin said, “and you think sea lions are strange?”

  “Touché.” Vik grinned and led the group back to the house.

  Vik and Geneva heated up a dinner that had been delivered the previous day. After Vik declined assistance, Sanjay juggled grapefruits on one side of the kitchen. Emilio and Elena’s gaze followed the path of the three pieces of fruit, presumably calculating the angle of the arc to see how it was possible. Priya sat in a window seat with a bored look on her face while Kevin tried to get her to smile by telling her the least funny jokes Sanjay had ever heard. Geneva burned two loaves of bread while Vik looked through the containers of food and complained that the caterers had already taken care of all the fun parts.

  “Maybe I should go to cooking school next,” Vik said.

  “Last year it was magic school,” Geneva pointed out.

  “Really?” Sanjay’s grapefruits dropped to the floor.

  A sheepish look crossed Vik’s face. “You look like you’re having more fun than me. And I’ve always appreciated the dramatic. That’s how Kevin and I became friends in the first place. He was always performing in plays in high school, including that one-man show where he played all the characters. I thought it was much more likely he’d be the one to go on to be a professional stage performer instead of you, Sanjay.”

  “And that’s why my brother chose this dumb island,” Priya said. “Drama. Jagged rocks instead of sandy beaches, and because of the stupid curse, Vik thought it was too awesome to pass up.”

  “Does everyone know the story of the curse?” Vik asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “I should enlighten you.” He paused, lit the candles on a candelabra straight out of the sixteenth century, then switched out the overhead light. “It’s too bad Broderick will miss the story. You probably all know this is an artificial island created by tech billionaire ‘Fearless’ Arthur Frank who made his fortune in cloud computing, but that’s not entirely accurate. After making his fortune, Fearless Frank retired from life in the Silicon Valley. He’d spent many long nights looking out at the ocean. He wanted his own island. The right island didn’t exist, so he created this one himself. There was an existing rocky piece of land here, but it wasn’t big enough to be called a proper island. The month after construction of the island castle was completed, he threw a huge house party, much like the one I’m hosting this weekend. On a drunken midnight boat ride, there was an accident. His wife fell overboard. Her body was never found.”

  “You know I hate this story,” Geneva said, rubbing her arms.

  “His wife had been a depressed alcoholic for years,” Vik continued, “so some people speculated she jumped overboard on purpose. She and Frank had been a happy couple once when they were college sweethearts. Success can bring out the worst in people.” Vik paused and looked around the table. Sanjay wondered if he was thinking of anyone in particular.

  “Frank,” Vik resumed, “didn’t seem especially broken up about his wife’s death. After all, there were dozens of young women throwing themselves at his money, pretending they were interested in the man himself. I know him. There’s no way Frank’s admirers were admiring more than his money.”

  Emilio whispered something to his sister. She nodded, but her eyes remained transfixed on Vik.

  “Still,” Vik said, “he thought it was best to keep up appearances. He went into mo
urning and set off for Greece. After six months, he remarried. They returned to California. The wedding was held here on the island. The Monday morning after the weekend wedding, the stock market took a nose dive. Frank was ruined. But he isn’t the type of man to give up. He returned to work in the Silicon Valley to remake his fortune. He couldn’t bring himself to sell the island castle, so he rents it out for most of the year. Because the two times he’d attempted to live on the island, tragedy had struck, reporters dubbed it a curse. The Curse of Cloud Castle.”

  A loud beeping noise sounded. Kevin and Emilio jumped.

  Geneva laughed. “It’s the oven. Dinner’s ready. Vik, you’d better grab it yourself. It’s likely to explode the moment I touch it.”

  “I’m glad you know I’m not marrying you for your domestic skills,” Vik said.

  “I’ll go get Broderick,” Kevin offered.

  In the open floor plan of the main section of the house, they had a view of the first dozen rooms on the mezzanine overlooking the main kitchen and dining area. Kevin climbed the spiral staircase and knocked on Broderick and Priya’s bedroom door.

  “I’m still working!” Broderick called out.

  Priya rolled her eyes and jumped up from the table. She stopped at the foot of the stairs and called up. “You’re always working.”

  “You want your bank account to start shrinking?” Broderick asked.

  “It’s Vik’s birthday,” Kevin said, jiggling the door handle of the thick door. He turned to face Priya. “He’s locked himself in.”

  “We’re not saving you any food!” Priya said before returning to the table. Kevin followed suit.

  “Sorry, man,” Kevin said to Vik.

  “His loss,” Vik said. “The part of the curse I’m about to tell you isn’t public knowledge.” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, things worked out. For the most part. But about five years ago, a young woman died here at the castle. Alcohol poisoning.” Vik paused and made eye contact with each of them, one by one, clearly savoring the moment. “She was said to look eerily similar to Frank’s wife.”