Arseneault Pierre C. - Oakwood Island

OAKWOOD ISLAND

Other titles by

Angella Cormier and Pierre C Arseneault

Dark Tales for Dark Nights

The stories are amazing. Angela Yuriko Smith, author of End of Mae .

Dark Tales for Dark Nights, the first book by collaborative Canadian authors Pierre C Arsenault and Angella Jacob, is sure to impress all kinds of readers with its imaginative and creative genius. Each story sucked me in with its normalcy and made me jump with its sudden twist into darkness. Sarah Butland, author of Blood Day .

Dark Tales for Dark Nights is a well-written gem that keeps you guessing with its brilliant twists and turns! With its interesting characters, original plots and vivid imagery, this book is well worth a read! But maybe keep the lights on... Goodreads review by Natalie Bowley.

Titles by Pierre C Arseneault

Sleepless Nights

I thought the book was terrific, both the writing and the stories themselves. I like the way youre drawn to the dark side of humanity; I relate. Youre on your way, Pierre. Joan Hall Hovey, author of The Deepest Dark .

Titles by Angella Cormier

A Maidens Perception: A Collection of Thoughts, Reflections and Poetry

ISBN: 978-1-932926-52-1 (eBook edition)

Copyright 2016 by Angella Cormier and Pierre C Arseneault

Cover Design: Angella Cormier

Cover Photos: Leo Paul Cormier (front photo) and Pierre C Arseneault (back photo)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photo-copying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system without written permission of the publisher, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If youre reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

Shadow Dragon Press

9 Mockingbird Hill Rd

Tijeras, New Mexico 87059

info@shadowdragonpress.com

http://www.shadowdragonpress.com/oakwood.html

Visit the authors websites:

Mysterious Ink - www.mysteriousink.ca

PCA Toons - www.pcatoons.com

You can also follow Mysterious Ink on Facebook at:

Facebook: Mysterious Ink - Pierre C Arsenault & Angella Cormier

Twitter:

@AngellaCormier

@PierreCArsent

Email:

Angella@MysteriousInk.ca

Pierre@MysteriousInk.ca

Oakwood Island

a novel by

Angella Cormier & Pierre C Arseneault

Shadow Dragon Press

Albuquerque, New Mexico

Table of Contents

About the Authors

Open Arms Orphanage

Oakwood Island

September 1989

The muffled voices grew louder outside the orphanage. Young Maggie, a brown-haired and blue-eyed girl of eight was sitting at her small wooden desk, writing out her list of birthday wishes. Her pen glided carefully across the soft paper. Her handwriting was neat and well-spaced, just like Miss Jones had taught her. Her list wasnt very long, especially for a soon to be nine-year-old little girl. She was just about finished dotting her last i when she heard stomping down the corridor coming toward her small room. Scott Cudmore, one of her few friends at the home, flew past her open door and then backtracked and stuck his head into the room.

Theres a crazy woman outside! Shes trying to come in but Miss Jones wont let her! Come see! The two kids ran to the window pressing their noses and cheeks against the cold glass pane, trying to look down at the commotion on the front steps.

The strange woman wore a plain beige dress with a grey wool cardigan over top. Her eyes were bulging and though the kids couldnt make out what she was saying, it was obvious she was upset and trying to push her way through to the front door. The woman appeared to be in her mid-thirties, her hair frizzy and flying around her head every time she spoke, or rather yelled in Miss Jones face.

Just then an ambulance turned the corner with the sirens wailing and pulled up in the driveway. Exasperated, the woman flopped herself down on the steps and reached into her cardigans left pocked and pulled out something small. She extended her hand towards Miss Jones who was too preoccupied, waving her arms in the air as the ambulance came speeding up the long driveway. Without looking up, the woman placed the small gift box she had been holding next to Miss Jones feet. She then saw the two men dressed in all white scrubs running towards her. She hung her head down and began to sob. The men picked her up, each taking her by one arm and carried her away towards the ambulance.

Maggie and Scott watched with wide eyes as she was placed on a stretcher and tied down at her ankles and wrists. Before the men brought the stretcher to the ambulance, the young girl could have sworn that she heard her name being screamed by the crazy woman. She locked eyes on her just as the tingling of shivers started at the nape of her neck and crept their way down her back. Scott ran out as fast as he had come in, going downstairs to join in the questioning of who the mystery woman was and why she wanted to get inside the building.

There would be no answers to those questions though, as Maggie would later find out at suppertime. Miss Jones put the last bit of questions to rest by telling the children seated in the kitchen Some things are just best left unsaid.

And so it was.

Prologue

Oakwood Island Ferry Boat

June

The old man stood alone at the front of the ferry, his long grey hair snagging the edges of his old brown hat. The crosswinds of the bay here were strong, smack in the middle of the expanse of water between Bayview (the mainland) and Oakwood Island, where the ferry was heading. Jack Whitefeathers eyes, thin slits among his dark wrinkles, watched the island approach ever so slowly from a distance. His nostrils filled with the salt water fragrance that had been a part of him since birth. Having grown up on the island, Jack felt a sense of peace come over him as his home approached.

From above came a cawing sound. Jack raised his eyes but had to close them for a moment, the bright and hot sun burning a temporary blackness in his sight. He raised a hand to his forehead and now able to focus better, he spotted the large black winged bird. It flew in circles above the ferry a few times, before swooping down and landing on the ledge of the ferry right in front of Jack.

Nice to see ya again, you ol squawker!

The crows head cocked to face Jack, his black eyes looking at him for a few moments before turning its gaze to the island once more. Jack buttoned up his faded red shirt, the winds getting stronger still. Leaning forward as his fingers made their way up to the last two buttons, he whispered to the bird.

Have I missed much while I was away? The bird just stood still, its shiny black feathers flicking in the wind. It readjusted itself on the railing every few minutes, the wind nearly making it lose its grip and being toppled over. Jack chuckled and moved his gaze out to the view before him. The eastern side of the island was now clearly in sight. From this distance, the church steeple shone bright against the green of the many oak and willow trees that covered the land.