Real food was step one on the to do list after work. Microwaved leftover biscuits, baked according to a recipe that tasted like crap but was impossible to botch. Step two- check the news. If what she’d seen that morning was a red tide moving in, it would be the main article on any station’s website. Setting aside her phone, which had died on the way home, she opened the webpage and her jaw dropped.

“Wreck Debris Washes Up Along Terrace St Beachfront,” the most recent headline boasted. The cover photo showed the mysterious mats she’d seen in the water on the beach she’d been cleaning that morning. It wasn’t a toxic algae mat, but some kind of tarp or canvas covered in regular-looking algae.

“Wreckage possibly originating from a nineteenth century cruise ship has drifted ashore at White Beach.” It was remarkable how quickly that conclusion had been reached. Hazel narrowed her eyes at the fabric, then the words “nineteenth century” in the text.

A warm, stuffy hoodie on an eighty-degree summer day and the sickening smells of a cheap water park were two things Rhea had not been looking forward to that day, but she was there with Tristan regardless. After a very long apology, they were searching for her “borrowed” necklace. She’d noticed it was missing just before lunch hour at her grandfather’s café, and there was no mystery where it had gone. That is, no mystery until she hunted her friend down and learned that he lost it.

Her skin itched. The odors of sweat, cheap sunscreen and chlorine made her nauseous. She hated this park with a passion, but Tristan would go almost anywhere hunting for adventure. How there could be adventure at a dodgy tourist trap with questionable safety regulations was beyond her, but he’d been insisting all week that it would be the most fun they’d have all month if she would just go with him. It had finally come to pass, but searching an entire amusement park full of running water and pools for one piece of jewelry was definitely not “fun” by any definition.

They’d checked the lost and found, to no avail. Tristan had taken her to half of the rides he’d been on earlier and asked if a necklace turned up. Still no results. People stared at them, both in unseasonable clothing and looking quite ill, and with so many of their classmates working as park staff the entire expedition was humiliating.

“I’m sorry… But we’re still going to find it,” he assured her for what seemed like the millionth time. “I bet I lost it on one of the tube rides- it could’ve come out of my pocket when I sat down.” She glared and walked into the food court.

“Yeah, the two of us all bundled up in the heat without our frost stones. We can make it all that way without even screwing up a little.”

A squad of teenagers rushed past, one hitting Tristan on the shoulder. “Bro! You were right about that Rapids ride- the line was totally worth it!”

They remembered him from earlier. One of them grinned just slightly villainously. “We know the girl working it. You said you like marine biology, right?”

People milled about the parking lot near the beach, looking for a glimpse of the washed up debris and taking lots of photos. Maddy had returned to the beach as soon as she could get away from her aunt’s cafe. The news had generated a small amount of buzz in the community, not that many people cared about local history. A psychic had been around confusing reporters since reporting her find- yes a psychic had “discovered” the tarps sometime between when Maddy had called in the potential algae problem and when public health officials had showed up to check it out.

“They’re from a beautiful ship- it had passengers like diplomats and lawyers and politicians’ families…” Dressed almost professionally enough to be mistaken for a historian, a woman who had introduced herself as Suzie-Lou Menchans continued to address a couple angry writers who were ignoring her and groaning about a problem with the wifi. “But also a darker, more secret side. I think there might’ve been smuggling going on below deck, if ya know what I mean.”

Knowing the real town historian, Hazel’s mother, had arrived on the scene not too long ago, Maddy assumed the reporters had just learned the truth about their dramatic scoop: nobody knew where this stuff was from or was from or what it was yet and they probably wouldn’t for some time. There was a perimeter set up by the police department, keeping the general public away from most parts of the beach until it could be confirmed that the algal bloom hadn’t washed in yet and the mysterious tarps could be safely analyzed. Hazel’s mother would already be inside the barrier, minding her safety and seeing what she could deduce.

Walking past the disorganized crowd to ask the nearest officer what was happening, she found herself pulled to the side by none other than Suzie-Lou. Not fond of being touched, she swatted away the older woman’s arm with considerable force. Maybe too much force. A few too many heads turned.

“Don’t touch me,” she reprimanded a little too loudly. Even more people started to stare. Aware that starting a fight in front of law enforcement wasn’t a good idea, she folded her arms and looked Ms. Menchans directly in the eye. “Do you need something?” she asked firmly, but less aggressively.

The psychic met her gaze with a flustered expression, then her best poker face which was admittedly subpar. She waved a slightly wrinkled arm in a wide gesture and pointed a finger at Maddy’s face. “You, young lady, are somehow a part of this.”

All the looks Maddy’s brash mannerisms had attracted went from concerned to amused in an instant. She raised an eyebrow and slowly reached to push down Suzie-Lou’s pointing finger. “That’s… cool. I have to talk to some-”

“Child, listen! The energies here are connected to yours and this ocean liner with all of its spirits and secrets. Well, you’re not the only person they just reach for, but you’re tied to these old sails. It’s very clear!”

She leaned in close to Maddy’s face as she spoke, a crazed glint coming to life in her eyes. It was eerie, to say the least. Maddy threw up her arms and turned to leave. Undeterred, Suzy-Lou followed, continuing with her extremely generic prophecy. It was then Maddy realized, she should’ve just stayed at work.