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From then on, I vowed to stick to fish and shrimp.

A horn blared and the ferry slowly docked beside the boardwalk. Workers jumped in to action as they removed luggage and trunks, sending them down a ramp and onto a moving belt. The ferry itself was bigger than I expected and packed with visitors leaving the island for the night. They were all windblown and giddy. I couldn’t help smiling at them as they filed off the boat. A little boy walked by with his dad and waved shyly at us. He was holding a stuffed sea turtle tightly in his arms, but what I noticed first was the red beach bucket he was wearing as a hat. It was in the shape of a sandcastle and sat a little lopsided. I waved back and silently mourned my own childhood void of happy memories.

“Time to go!” Kira clutched my hand with excitement. We traversed the skinny ramp on to the deck and found seat at the back of the boat. Never having been on a boat, I was apprehensive, but still excited about the new experience. The ferry gently swayed back and forth as the rest of the passengers boarded. I watched a lanky crane glide above and land on one of the pylons nearby. It stood perfectly still on one leg looking for fish to snag up out of the water. Several minutes later, the ferry’s engine roared to life and a nervous shiver ran down my spine. We inched forward, turned left gradually, and made our way past the two pylons, exiting the marina. As the ferry passed by the crane’s perch, I watched in awe, as it extended its massive wings and took to the sky.

“Look!” Kira called above the engine and the wind, “That’s Southport over there to our right,” A small wooden pier stretched out into the water, while the same shops and boutiques I had seen before were visible farther back. A couple of minutes later we made a slow left turn and she pointed again.

“And that’s Fort Caswell on the very end of Oak Island,” she informed me. The walls of the fort were overgrown with layers of vines and moss, but it was still a majestic sight. As we rounded the point, the full grandeur of the sun setting over the Atlantic Ocean came into view. I carefully stood up on the rocking deck and made my way to the side of the ferry to get a better view. Striking shades of orange, red, and yellow lit up the sky and reflected off the water. It was magnificent.

“You know, if you look over the side, sometimes you can see dolphins swimming next to the ferry.” Kira had come to stand beside me.

“Really?” I leaned over the side, precariously, holding on tightly to the railing…just in time for the ferry to run over the wake from a passing boat. A wall of salt water sprayed up, hitting me square in the face. I tumbled backwards and fell against Kira.

“Aren’t the dolphins just beautiful?!” She doubled over with laughter, while I tried to dry my face. I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot at her. Finally, she got a hold of herself and looked up at me. Another bout of laughter overtook her body, as she held onto the railing to keep her balance.

“That was so not funny!” I giggled and gave her shoulder a little shove. “You did that on purpose!” My hair and face were completely soaked. She moved towards me in an attempt to console me, so I took that opportunity to shake my hair out and spray her with pellets of water. She shrieked and took off towards the back of the boat. We fell into our seats laughing and wiping water off of our bodies. I wasn’t usually this gullible, so I decided to keep a watchful eye on Kira. It did feel good to have a little fun without being reminded I needed to ‘act like a lady’. My wet hair and clothes would have given Dee a coronary.

Eventually another piece of land came into view up ahead. I looked at Kira and she promptly announced, “There she is! Old Baldy!”

“Old Baldy?” I raised an eyebrow.

“The lighthouse! It’s called Old Baldy.” I spotted a weathered, stone lighthouse rising up over the vacation homes and trees. The ferry maneuvered into a small marina dotted with sailboats, fishing boats, and one very large yacht. We parked beside the boardwalk, and I felt the ferry crawl to a stop.

The horn sounded again and we descended the exit ramp, following the rest of the passengers along the boardwalk. Up ahead, Ebb and Flo’s Oyster Bar and Restaurant welcomed the newcomers, as well as several other buildings housing souvenir shops and golf cart rentals.

“So there are no cars on the island at all?” I asked Kira, even though I already knew the answer.

“Nope, only golf carts – even the roads are golf cart size! But we aren’t renting one; we need to go this way.” She ushered me down a sidewalk and through a small chain link fence. “The school has its own fleet. We keep some here and the rest are back on school grounds.” One long row of golf carts stretched out before us. They weren’t your normal golf carts however…these were black, sleek, and sitting on fat beach tires. The emblem for the House of Lorelei was on each side. It was made up of a simple circle containing swooping letter ‘L’. We climbed into the first cart in the row and Kira stomped on the gas pedal, throwing me against the back of the seat. I searched around for a seat belt.

The absence of doors in addition to Kira’s questionable driving skills didn’t do much for my quickly building anxiety.

We zipped down the road heading east. Families riding bikes and vacationers in other golf carts waved as we passed. Bald Head Island sat between the Cape Fear River and the Atlantic Ocean.

The island’s western side housed the marina, shops and the lighthouse, while the southern side was the most populated, boasting sprawling vacation homes and beautiful beaches. The northern section of the island was made up of marshland and largely uninhabitable. The House of Lorelei was located on the eastern side, facing the Atlantic Ocean. The entire island was full of lush trees and plant life, with the most prevalent being the live oak tree. Many years of constant wind had twisted and mangled their branches, forging works of art that stretched over the road, creating an enchanting canopy of green.

The skin on my wrist began tingling and I glanced down to see if there was something crawling on me. Instead, I noticed my trace was not only still shimmering; it had started to change colors, as well. The once black lines were now a silvery blue. Fortunately, my bewilderment was quickly interrupted by the huge ornate, iron gate we were now stopped in front of. Unless you were directly in front of it, you could easily miss the school’s entrance. Ivy and moss twisted around and over the gate making it look as much a part of the landscape as the live oaks. Beneath the overgrowth, the House of Lorelei emblem adorned both sides of the iron bars. My stomach began doing flip-flops in anticipation. Ever so slowly, the gate swung inward and we drove onto the school grounds.

Once we were clear of the gate, Kira hit the gas again and I held on for dear life for another half mile or so. Gray stone walls lined the road, weathered by wind and time. The campus of the House of Lorelei unfolded before us, as we rounded a sharp corner. Buildings made of the same weathered gray stone stood on every side of us, appearing very gothic in the hooded light of the setting sun. We came to an abrupt halt in front of a two story building, and Kira motioned for me to follow her in.