What are people saying about
Grimsley Hollow: The Chosen One?
Exciting, scary, a breathless chase to save Grimley Hollow from the clutches of an evil witch. This is Halloween at your doorstep, dark shapes in the woods at night. Shivery wonderful!
Malla Duncan
Smashwords purchase
…so many people (children and adults alike) look at autism as a disability in today's world, but Gage proves that this is not true
Arual…Just a Reader
Amazon purchase
This is truly a magical book that I hope will inspire empathy for kids that might be a little different
James Crawford
Amazon purchase
…this is a book that I yearn to see on the movie screen. This is also a book I would love to see used as part of the curriculum in middle school
ChristiAK
Amazon purchase
…Nicole Storey has captured the magic and mystery of Grimsley Hollow just as good as JK Rowling did in her books but with the additional insight of what an autistic person has to deal with on a day to day basis.
Mr. Magic
Amazon purchase
Grimsley Hollow:
The Chosen One
Nicole Storey
Smashwords Edition
Published by
Inknbeans Press
Because not every superhero needs a cape
Grimsley Hollow: The Chosen One
Copyright © 2011 by Nicole Storey
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the Author or publisher. Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.
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 with whom you share it. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashword.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
This book, an original publication, was registered with the United States Library of Congress Copyright Office in August 2011.
Cover art by Claudia McKinney at Phatpuppy Art
This book is dedicated to all of the children who suffer from disabilities. I hope it inspires everyone, especially other kids, to reach out and include these amazing children in your lives. Just because they may look or act differently doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings. Their biggest wish is to have friends and be accepted for who they are. Together, we can make this happen for them all.
Chapter One
Impatient
Why are Mondays such a drag? The thought swam in and out of Gage Gilbert’s mind as he sat in his last class of the day. His math teacher, Mr. Beasley, was actually a good teacher compared to most. He always tried to make learning division, decimals, geometry, and all the other topics that plagued fifth-grade math, well…fun! He did crazy things that no other teacher in Gage’s past years of schooling had done. Last week, Gage had come to class to find Mr. Beasley dressed in a punk-rock outfit complete with sunglasses, torn t-shirt, jeans, and a shoulder-length Mohawk wig! He had arranged their desks in a circle and played rock music while they talked about whether numbers were prime or composite. Another time, he took the class outside and brought snacks: popcorn, cookies, and drinks. They sat around on blankets he provided and munched while he conducted class from the base of a huge oak tree on the back lawn. Math was Gage’s favorite class of the day. But today, he just couldn’t get into it.
He stared out of the window. The thought about Monday being a drag swam in, then out, of his consciousness once more, like a fish swimming in and out of a lazy fisherman’s net. Mr. Beasley’s voice seemed far away.
The view outside was beautiful. Autumn had finally arrived and brought with it all the marvelous gifts that only appear this time of year. Chilly mornings that paved the way to mild days, where you could go outside and actually enjoy being in the outdoors. The crunch of leaves under your shoes in swirls of brilliant color that melted together, painting the world in yellows, oranges, greens, reds, and browns. Autumn meant giant leaf piles, flickering jack-o’-lanterns, and tantalizing smells that promised apple pies, pumpkin bread, and warm crackling fires. For Gage, the best parts of autumn were the fall vacation from school and his favorite holiday, Halloween.
Oh, you could argue that Christmas was the best holiday of the year. Most people would, and Gage certainly loved Christmas himself. However, there is nothing like the excitement that transpires on Halloween! Just the thought of haunted houses, witches, ghosts, goblins, and all of the other gruesome figures that helped to shape this magical holiday was enough to keep Gage content all year long. He loved to decorate the house and help with all the preparations, for Halloween was the most celebrated time for the Gilbert household!
Each year, beginning in September, the whole family pitched in to transform their small farm into a scene straight out of a Stephen King nightmare. They draped sticky cobwebs, hung terrible vampire-bats, carved many monstrous jack-o’-lanterns from pumpkins grown in their pumpkin patch, and made horrific scarecrows. Spotlights were set up and dry ice was purchased in large quantities, as it made terrific fog. The front lawn was transfigured into a foreboding graveyard, complete with tombstones, crypts, ghosts, mummies, and other creatures of the night. The barn, which usually served as a garage, was also attired in spooky fashion and used as a gathering area for the Halloween party they threw every year the weekend before October 31st. Most residents of their small town attended the party, and it was eagerly anticipated each season. They had games and crafts for the smaller children, contests, and a haunted hayride through the woods for the older kids. The hayride was manned by several townsmen and teenagers who bedecked themselves as characters from favorite horror movies. There were many goodies, tons of food, music and laughter that lasted until well past the witching hour. Everyone agreed that the Gilbert farm was the most glorious (and frightful) place to celebrate Halloween.
Gage sighed. But now, he thought, I still have to get through twenty more minutes of math before I can go home and help decorate. It was the last week of September and they were almost finished converting their quaint farm into a place of thrills and chills. He had three more weeks until their fall break from school and then, for the last two weeks of October, he would be free! Free to watch all the scary movies he wanted; free to go to his secret hideout in the forest behind their house and pretend to duel with terrifying monsters and act out scenes from an ever-changing horror movie that seemed to play constantly inside his head. Free to do all the things he enjoyed most. Gage sighed again. He hated having to wait. Whoever said that ‘patience is a virtue’ must have been a very boring person, Gage thought.
With great effort, he finally succeeded in tearing his gaze from the view outside. He tried to concentrate on Mr. Beasley as he explained about decimals. Before he could give his full attention, though, a straggling thought flashed across his mind, like a black cat darting in front of a passing car: If only I had a best friend to enjoy all this freedom with.
The walk to his mother’s shop after school was typical, except for the wolf. Gage made the two-block walk every afternoon that the weather permitted, but he had never encountered a wolf before. Wolves were not native to Tennessee. He remembered the red wolf had been introduced recently as an experiment, but no huge black wolves lived there. However, one sitting beside a huge pine tree in the vacant lot next to his mother’s shop; it was the biggest wolf he had ever seen. Gage was scared to go near it, and he crossed over to the other side of the street to put distance between him and the huge mountain of fur that almost seemed to been waiting for him. The wolf watched carefully as Gage passed him, not breaking his gaze when Gage crossed the street in front of the shop. His lime-green eyes seemed uncannily smart for a wolf. Gage was beginning to wonder if he should get his mother to call the police and report it when the blaring of a car horn diverted his attention for a split second. When he looked back at the tree, the wolf was gone. He scanned the immediate area, but there was no sign of it at all. Maybe it had only been a big black dog and not a wolf. Maybe I’m going crazy, Gage thought. He shook his head and walked into his mother’s shop. The small bell over the door tinkled merrily as Gage let himself inside. His mother, Olivia (“Liv” to her friends and family), owned an aquarium supply store. She was busy feeding the goldfish, but turned around at the sound of the bell and gave him a warm smile. Welcome sights and sounds greeted him.
To his right, a huge stock tank filled with killifish and floating plants was making a cheerful, bubbling sound as a water-fall cascaded over its side. The fish inside swam around tranquilly, like brilliant jewels come to life. He heard the bubbling of filters and buzzing of air pumps. Against a wall, stacked aquariums glowed with fluorescent lights and darting fish, their colors intertwining and swirling together like a tapestry.
Gage often worked weekends and after school to help out in the shop, and his mother paid him, just like her other employees. He was a fast learner and he already knew how to diagnose a lot of fish diseases and illnesses; he knew how to tell if a fish was male or female; he could set up a complete aquarium and knew which equipment it needed to run top notch; and he could recommend products and answer most questions when customers needed help. One day, if he wanted it, the shop would become his to run. He would be a great fish-keeper, just like his mother.
“How was school today?” she asked as she walked over to a 55-gallon aquarium that housed some baby orandas. The fish immediately swam over to her, begging for their supper.
His mother hardly ever dressed in anything other than jeans and t-shirts or sweatshirts, and one would usually find a pair of running shoes or flip-flops on her feet. At most, her make-up consisted of lip-gloss and occasionally mascara. She didn’t need make-up or fancy clothes to make her beautiful. Her skin was a healthy color of golden honey and was soft as satin. Her eyes, a brilliant shade of jade-green, were like two shining emeralds. Gage jokingly called his mother the “house midget”- as she only stood 5’3” tall and barely weighed 110 pounds soaking wet. She may have been waif-like in appearance, but no one who met her could ignore her presence. She had an energy that automatically drew others to rely on her, even to trust her. As she stood at the tank in her most worn, comfortable jeans and a black sweatshirt (embossed with the shop logo) with her long, lush, dark-auburn hair pulled back with a sky-blue scarf, Gage thought she outshone every starlet that Hollywood had ever produced.
He shrugged his book bag off his shoulders and joined her at the tank. One of the orandas, a beautiful chocolate-colored one, had captured his heart; he secretly hoped that his mother would not sell it but would give it to him for his own tank at home. As he neared the tank, the chocolate oranda spotted Gage and swam over to him in the wiggly way that he had of getting around. He was a fat tub of a fish, his cheeks so puffy they reminded Gage of a chipmunk that had stuffed its mouth with too many acorns. The oranda’s wen (a growth on top of its head that sort of resembled a brain) was very cool and looked almost like a Mohawk. Gage smiled to himself as he remembered Mr. Beasley’s wig. He had even dubbed the fish “Beasley”- after his esteemed math teacher.
“Hey there, Beasley,” Gage said as he peered down at the fish. The fish looked up at him, wiggling and twisting with excitement and delight, the color of his scales changing hues in the fluorescent light, from chocolate-brown to deep purple, and then back to chocolate again.
His mother handed him some food so that he could hand-feed the fish. Gage tore a small bit from the piece of food that his mother made especially for baby fishes; he put his fingers down into the water and Beasley immediately took the food and began to chomp.
Liv smiled as she watched her son feed the oranda. She knew that he had taken a shine to this particular one and she planned to let him take it home as soon as its quarantine period ended. He never asked for much. Unlike other kids his age, Gage was not into sports, designer clothes, popular teen idols, or the “fashionable” music of his generation. Because of his autism, he just couldn’t understand why his peers liked that stuff. Instead, he liked horror and action movies and anything that had to do with Halloween. His musical taste ranged from Metallica and Stone Sour to the Beatles and Elvis Pressley.
She felt a familiar pain in her heart, one she had felt many times every day since he was diagnosed with autism at the age of two. His autism was not as severe as others were. He had always been in regular and gifted classes in school. The speech therapy he had taken twice a week until the previous year had improved his language so much that no one, other than those closest to him, would ever have known that he had not been able to talk at all until he turned three years old. He had always made straight A’s in school and was above grade level in most of his subjects. The autism affected Gage socially more than anything. He got along better with adults than with kids. Adults just seemed to get him better: they understood his mannerisms, and he could talk openly with them without embarrassment. The worst part about it was that Gage was aware of his autism. He knew what it was and how it affected him, but he didn’t know what to do about it.
No one does, Liv thought bitterly. She often wondered if Gage would be better off if his disabilities were more severe. She hated herself for thinking that way, but couldn’t stop - just like a drowning person can’t stop from taking that final, watery breath, even though it will bring death.
If Gage’s disabilities were worse, she reasoned, maybe he would be unaware that he’s different from other people and wouldn’t hurt as much. Sometimes, ignorance can be bliss. As it was, he knew that there were parts of his brain that did not function normally, and he knew that unlike other afflictions that can be cured with a pill or other medicine, his could not. He had once told her that it was like having a disease that you had to live with all your life. You could live with it and could actually be happy at times, but there was always something missing. Sometimes, you forgot about that missing part, but your mind always stumbled over it eventually, like a forgotten toy that you only remembered as you tripped over it. For the most part, he had accepted his autism, but Liv knew that until a cure was found, IF a cure was found, he would never be truly happy.
And that’s what makes it so harsh, Liv thought as she watched Gage feeding the fish. As a parent, you always want your children to grow up happy and healthy. It’s a painful pill to swallow when they don’t.
She swam up out of her pool of misery and smiled at her son. “You didn’t answer my question,” she said as she ruffled Gage’s hair. “How was school today?”
Gage sighed as one might before taking up a heavy burden. “It was okay. I didn’t get any homework tonight, so the day isn’t a total loss.”
His mother laughed. He loved to make her laugh. It was a rare person who could laugh at his jokes or funny statements in a spontaneous, genuine manner. Most people’s laughs sounded forced and perfunctory. However, his family always made him feel like he was worth something.
Gage was seriously glad that he had no homework. It wasn’t that he didn’t like school; it was just the fact that school never ended when school was supposed to end! Having to do homework was like bringing school home with you, and that was what he hated. He liked his teachers, but not enough to invite them home for dinner and a play date every day after school. To Gage, that was an invasion of his privacy, his home life. He was sure that his teachers would feel the same way if their roles were reversed, so why the homework? He just wasn’t the type that liked to bring his work home with him. School was WORK, no matter what some adults like to think.
“How about we go home and have an early supper?” His mother smiled slyly at him. “There are still some more Halloween decorations to put up…”
Gage smiled brightly at her. “You’re on!” he replied.
Chapter Two
Home is Where the Heart is
A feeling of peace washed over Gage as their modest home came into view. Their small farm sat back off Oak Lane. It was not very big compared to most farms in their area - only ten acres - but to Gage it was more than enough. Wonder and awe filled him as they turned into their drive, lined on both sides by a white picket fence and immense sugar maple trees. The trees were so big that their branches actually intertwined with each other. Now, in autumn, their striking, full-colored leaves made a canopy that concealed the sky above. Gage always felt like he was traveling through a magic tunnel that would lead him to a bewitching land where mythical characters straight out of fairytales awaited him. To him, these trees were the protectors of their home, standing guard against all foes great and small.
At the end of the drive, a rustic barn stood on the left, painted in the traditional colors of red with white trim. An old-fashioned weather vane stood on top. His mother pulled the Jeep inside and parked.
The barn was two stories high. The lower floor served as a garage while the upper level was used for storage. Even though his parents had bought this farm before Gage was born and the barn had not housed anything other than his parents’ stuff for a long time, it still had the vague, sweet smell of hay.
This was not a “working” farm like some in Maple Ridge. An acre of land was used as a garden that his mother kept planted all year long with fruits, vegetables, and flowers. As there was always more than the family could eat, Liv shared the garden’s bounty with neighbors. She donated the rest of its harvests to the local Food Pantry in town, which helped feed needy people in the area. A “pick your own” apple orchard took up three acres of their property. Several types of apple trees grew there and these, too, were shared with others. Five acres of their farm were lightly wooded areas devoted to the local wildlife, along with a small pond.
Gage got out of the Jeep and stretched before getting his backpack from the cargo hold. That peaceful feeling washed over him again, like warm, rolling waves of the sea. He drank in the crisp air and his spirits were lifted by the comforting fragrances of smoke from the fireplace and pine trees, as well as the mouth-watering aromas of Maddy’s cooking coming from inside.
And of course, there was the house.
Their beautiful, simple house wasn’t just any house, it was home. Standing in the middle of a full acre, painted in crisp white with black shutters, it seemed to shine like a bright light in a field of flowers, shrubbery, and trees. The house, a mixture of ranch and cape styles, included a wraparound porch, bedecked with planters of flowers and hanging baskets, complete with comfortable rockers and a swing. With only eleven rooms, the house was small enough to be called humble, but the rooms were generous with warmth and love. It was a Norman Rockwell painting come to life.
His mother had already gone inside and Gage was almost at the door when a feeling of being watched came over him. He stopped and looked all around the yard. He didn’t see anything unusual, but felt that there was something, or someone, hiding just beyond his vision. He chalked it up to being tired after a stressful day but he was unsure, especially after his encounter with the giant dog (wolf?) earlier that day.
A fire, snapping and popping cheerfully in the living room fireplace, welcomed Gage as he walked inside. The light of the flames danced across the soft, leaf-green walls, projecting shifting phantoms in the evening twilight. He could hear voices coming from the kitchen. His four-year-old sister, Sydney, was telling his mother about her day at pre-school. Gage caught the words “bats,” “gross,” and “where’s Gage?” He smiled and shook his head.
His sister was totally different from him in many ways, but they were more alike than not. She was his shadow when he was at home. Although she sometimes got on his nerves with her mimicking, her never-ending flood of questions, and her almost constant need to be by his side, he loved her. In her eyes, he was a hero. Sydney made him feel important; she looked up to him when so many others simply looked through him.
He could hear her running footsteps coming towards the living room. She was on the prowl! Sydney hardly ever walked anywhere. From the time she took her first steps, she ran. She reminded Gage of a tiny tornado with gale-force winds that buffeted her from one room to another.
“Gage!” She had found her quarry and was charging at him full speed, her hair flying in every direction and her little arms waving about like windmills.
It’s a twister, Aunty Em! He laughed and caught her around the waist before she ran head-on into the T.V.; he braced himself for the onslaught.
“Look at what we made at school today! Isn’t it neat?”
She was hopping from one foot to the other, which was her custom when excited. Gage wished she wouldn’t because it made her look like she needed to go to the bathroom very badly. She was waving a black, paper bat in the air with one hand while gripping and tugging on his shirt with the other. Without pausing for a response from him, she plunged on.
“Chucky Brewer ate some of the glue that we used to make the bats and he got sick and threw up! That is sooo gross! Don’t you think it’s gross? I told him not to eat it but he wouldn’t listen to me. Miss Nicole told him that glue was for gluing and not for eating and then she helped him clean up and he had to sit in TIME OUT! Me and the other kids felt bad for Chucky because he missed outside play, but that is what he gets for not following directions! Then, while we were outside, we found a HUGE beetle and Bobby Pruitt picked it up and put it in Lany’s hair! Boy, did she scream! I told her to hold still while I went to get Miss Nicole to get it out because there was no way I was gonna touch that nasty bug…”
Gage let her ramble on. When she got going, she was like a balloon with a slow, steady leak. Eventually, she would run out of air, but it usually took a while.
Because of his autism, Gage’s senses were more acute than those of neuro-typical people. He could smell things that other people could not. He could taste flavors in foods that others could not detect. This caused problems for him when it came to eating. He simply did not like a lot of the foods that most people enjoyed and took for granted. Pasta, most fruits and vegetables, and any food with a creamy texture actually caused him to gag. Their appearances repulsed him.
His hearing was also super-sensitive, so anyone who spoke loudly or very fast unnerved him and made him want to flee. Sydney was doing both. Although this grated on his nerves and reminded him of someone jangling a set of keys in each of his ears, Gage took deep breaths and told his brain to remain calm. Sydney was only four, after all, and he didn’t want to scare her by going into a full autistic fit, stemming and rocking, and then running like a banshee to his room. Gage found stemming - rocking back and forth and flapping your hands around like a bird - totally embarrassing but sometimes he couldn’t control it.
Actually, his sister had helped him to overcome, or at least control, many of the fears and irritations that used to be problematic for him. Before she was born, his only way to cope was to run and hide when something bothered him. He would flee to a quiet place, stemming and rocking back and forth until calmness returned. After Sydney learned to walk, running away became impossible. If he ran to his room and tried to shut her out, she would simply follow him and bang on the door, jabbering and yelling until he let her in. Doctors called this sort of treatment flooding: exposing the person to what he or she is afraid of repeatedly, until they realize that the object of their fears will not harm them. Without meaning to - just by being herself - Sydney had managed to show Gage that many of his fears were unfounded and he could control that part of his brain which usually had the upper hand.
The key to this, he found out, was to concentrate on something else. He would think about a movie he had watched, what he had done at school that day, or a place he liked to be, such as his fort. As Sydney continued on her steady verbal path, Gage studied her face.
He liked the way her lisp, usually unnoticeable unless she was pronouncing words with the letter s in them, made her tiny pink tongue protrude between her teeth and lips. Her deep sapphire-blue eyes always seemed to dance with joy and had a way of catching the light and holding it like a flame. Her skin reminded him of a bowl of cream dotted with strawberries, which were her rosy cheeks. With her cap of pretty blonde curls that were never tame, she was a very cute kid.
“…and I was so glad that Maddy came and picked me up early! Can you help me hang my bat in my room?”
The balloon had finally deflated. Sydney took a deep breath, as she hardly inhaled while she was talking. Gage stilled for a moment to make sure she was finished with her speech. Sometimes, the deep breath gave her renewed energy and she would go again.
When he saw that she had quenched her desire to be heard, at least for the moment, he replied, “Sure. We’ll hang your bat after supper. What did Maddy fix to eat?”
Appearing in the archway that led to the kitchen, Maddy regarded Gage tenderly. She had been with their family since he could remember; she was like another grandmother to Sydney and him. More than a house-keeper and babysitter, she was a part of their family and they could not get along without her. Standing a little over five feet, she was shorter than Gage, and she always had a spring in her step and a youthful presence about her. She often said that she felt a lot younger than her sixty-eight years and wondered aloud sometimes if the year she was born was a misprint on her birth certificate. Her face was the only part of her appearance that showed her true age. It was slightly lined and careworn, but always happy and full of life.
“Good afternoon, Bear,” Maddy said as she walked over and gave Gage a warm hug.
“Bear” was her nickname for him. When Sydney was born, Gage was overcome with jealousy after being the only child for seven years. Maddy, understanding and sympathetic as always, had read him a story called “Brother Bear.” It had been all about a bear who becomes a big brother and does not like the intrusion of a baby sister. However, after many mishaps and accidents where brother bear saves the day, he realizes that being a big brother can be a pretty cool thing. Maddy’s calm demeanor and never-ending patience had been more of a soothing balm for Gage’s hurt pride than the book, but as he had no words to express this to her, she had always assumed that the book was what helped him most. Soon after, she took to calling him “Bear.”
Gage reluctantly pulled away from her and gazed at her face, taking in every brown wrinkle, the laugh lines around her mouth that always seemed to have a smile, her merrily, twinkling eyes…just being in Maddy’s presence was enough to make his heart feel lighter and burdens slip carelessly off his shoulders.
“I made your fav’rite supper, Bear! I got some nice fried chicken with plenty of drumsticks, corn on the cob, fresh greens for Miss Sydney -” his sister was a veggie freak “-and a gooey chocolate cake for dessert! How does that sound to ya?”
It sounded just fine.
Chapter Three
The Visitor
After supper, Gage helped his father put more Halloween decorations around the house and yard while his mother and sister baked some pumpkin cookies. His father, Trent Gilbert, worked as a contractor salesman for a company called Builder’s Source. He made a good living at it. The job was ideally suited to their family, as it gave Trent plenty of time to spend with them and was not confining. He was permitted to make his own hours, for the most part, and was able to devote more attention to his wife and kids.
He was a “blue-collar” worker and his looks showed it. His strong hands were covered in calluses from helping to unload trucks filled with lumber, roofing, sheetrock, and other building materials. Being a salesman did not mean that he sat behind a desk all day and sharpened pencils. Trent got into the very thick of the contracting business and often found himself doing manual labor, helping his customers and neighbors when they needed an extra hand. His profession may have been in sales, but he could pound a nail or throw up a wall with the best of them. Years of carrying building materials had developed his broad shoulders and unwavering tan. His eyes were lined with creases from squinting in the bright sunlight, as sunglasses interfered when measuring a door or window; his skin was rough from standing in harsh winter winds. Although only average in height, he was as solid as a mountain, he was dependable and always there for anyone who needed him.
He watched as Gage hung a bony plastic skeleton from a nail on the porch column, amused at the boy’s total concentration as he tried to get everything just right. He looks just like I did when I was his age, Trent thought. Liv had often joked that there was no way he could deny that Gage was his son: from the light-brown hair and hazel-green eyes, to the broad frame and shoulders that would almost collapse a doorway, they could have been twins if Trent were still eleven years old.
“I don’t know, Dad,” Gage said as he scratched his head in query. “He needs something more. He looks too plain.”
Trent smiled down at his son and then diverted his attention to the skeleton. “Yep, you’re right. This aging fellow does need a bit of decoration. What do you suggest?”
Gage began to rock back and forth and flapped his hands, a sure sign that he was excited.
The fact that Gage had autism was a shadow upon Trent’s life. He would have given anything to take that burden from his son’s shoulders. However, as that was not possible, he made do with helping Gage all he could and sharing the load when it got too heavy for his son to carry alone.
Gage stopped rocking and hand-flapping and exclaimed, “I can dress him in my old pirate costume! He can be the ghost of Black beard!”
Trent gave his son a thumbs-up sign and said, “Why don’t you run inside and get it to try on this poor soul? I bet he’s cold!”
Gage laughed at his father’s poor attempt at humor and ran inside to get the costume.
Maddy was busy cleaning the kitchen after supper. She had been watching Gage and Trent putting up decorations all over the outside. She had laughed aloud when Gage put on one of the scary masks meant for the scarecrows and snuck up on Trent, who had been bent over in the “graveyard.” Gage got right behind him before letting out a blood-curdling scream; Trent had fallen over and screamed himself! Trent had dragged his son onto the ground and tickled him until Gage begged for mercy. Those two were always pulling pranks like that.
Liv and Sydney were busy making another batch of pumpkin cookies. Sydney skipped over to her and asked, “Maddy, can you please get the icing out of the pantry for me? I wanna make my cookies into jack-o’-lanterns!”
Maddy looked down at her precious angel. A blond curl had fallen over one of her eyes and she pushed it away gently with her fingers. If Sydney had asked her for the moon, she would have immediately called NASA to see when she could book a flight in a rocket ship to get it.
“Yes, baby. I’ll get it and bring it in to ya. Just let me dry my hands.”
The little waif gave her a heart-melting smile before skipping back to the dining room. She looked just like a little fairy! The thought made Maddy laugh softly.
She dried her hands on the dish-towel and was turning to the pantry to get the desired icing when something caught her attention at the edge of the yard. The sun was almost down, but there was still enough of it to cast an orangey hue over the backyard. At the very edge, where the grass gave way to the forest beyond, she saw a figure standing on the path that led to the orchard. She could not imagine Gage or Trent going down that way at this time of the evening, especially with no flashlight, as it would be full dark soon. Besides, the shape she saw suggested someone shorter and smaller than those two.
Although her short vision was failing a little in her old age, there was nothing wrong with her long vision. The person appeared to be staring towards the back of the house. Maddy could not make out any details of the face; the sun’s dying light was shining directly in her eyes. She tried to shield them with her hands to get a better look. She only caught the briefest glimpse of someone - or something - and it was gone.
She stared for a little longer, almost certain that she had seen a person. However, she saw nothing now, and the sun finally gave up its position in the sky and retired to bed. That’s strange, Maddy thought to herself and, without knowing exactly why, she felt as if the icy fingers of Death himself were playing a tune on her spine. If it was a person, how could they have just disappeared like that? No one is that fast and no one can disappear in the blink of an eye, except perhaps Kris Angel or David Blaine… or a ghost.
“Rubbish!” she said aloud. “It was probably Gage at the end of the yard, admirin’ the decorations or somethin’. Maddy Jenkins, the older you get, the crazier you get!”
Sydney was yelling for her to bring the icing, which she had completely forgotten about. Just as she opened the pantry door, Gage came busting into the kitchen and ran straight to the dining room. She followed him with the icing and put it on the table in front of Liv as Gage inquired,
“Mom, where is my old pirate costume? I want to use it to dress one of the skeletons.”
Liv informed him that it was in a box in the top of his closet.
“Okay. I’ll get it in a sec. I want to get a drink first.”
Maddy went back into the kitchen and reminded Gage to wash his hands before touching anything. He gave her a sheepish grin and changed his direction from the refrigerator to the sink. As he washed up, she stood beside him with a towel to dry his hands. She couldn’t help staring out the window at the spot where she had seen the person before. It was full dark now, and even though there was a full moon and the yard lights were on, there wasn’t enough light to illuminate the edge of the yard. As far as she could see, there was nothing out of the ordinary in the backyard at all. She handed Gage the towel and decided to satisfy her curiosity.
“Gage, right before you came in here, was you at the edge of the yard where the path to the orchard starts?”
Gage headed to the fridge and grabbed a can of Dr. Pepper. He pulled the tab on the can and took a long swallow before answering. “Nope. I haven’t been down to my fort at all today. I was around the front of the house with Dad. He wouldn’t let me go down there at this time of night anyway, but I bet it would be cool!”
His rapturous expression declared that going down a dark and spooky path to his play fort and maybe finding a couple of scary monsters to do battle with would be right up his alley.
Maddy frowned and Gage picked up that something was bothering her, as she hardly ever frowned and only called him by his birth name when she was very serious about something.
“Why did you ask that?”
Slowly, like a person sleepwalking and not in full control of her actions, she stepped over to the window above the sink and peered into the night. Gage stood beside her and looked out, as well.
Gage couldn’t see anything. The full moon was still waxing, but it provided enough light to show him that nothing was out of place. Sydney’s swing set reflected against the moon’s brightness, reminding him of a huge dinosaur skeleton that he had seen in a museum. The light softened the sharp branches of the trees and flower bushes. His eyes scanned the ground around them, but nothing stirred. There was no breeze at all this night.
Still surveying the night, Maddy said softly, “I could’ve sworn…”she trailed off. Her eyes came in and out of focus like she was grappling with herself for control and losing.
“What is it?” Gage asked.
Maddy turned her eyes to the window again; this was too much for him, as patience was not one of his strong points. “MADDY! WHAT IS IT!?”
His raised voice finally broke through her trance and she looked at him. Really looked at him. Her expression was that of someone who has seen something very frightening, like people in horror movies right after they encounter Dracula, or something equally scary.
“I thought I saw someone outside on the path to the orchard about a minute before you came in here.”
Gage noticed that her hands were visibly shaking as she twisted the dish towel in a long rope. Maddy had played tricks on him before, but this was different. She wasn’t kidding around this time and was not intentionally trying to “get his goat,” as she always said.
“Maybe it was Tonka?” Tonka was the family dog, a massive but friendly malamute.
Maddy considered this, and then shook her head. “Couldn’a been. The figure I saw was a person, standing erect and looking towards the house.”
She glanced out the window once more before turning away and walking to the wall beside the back door, where a row of hooks hung. She took down her purse and looked to Gage.
“Oh well. I guess it weren’t anything. If someone had been out there, ‘ole Tonka would have known and he would have had them down on the ground, lickin ‘em to death!” She cackled like her old self. “Gimme a kiss, Bear, and go get ya costume. I bet ya daddy’s wonderin’ where the blazes you done got off to!”
Gage looked at her for a few more seconds, trying to settle his mind and make sure that Maddy was really okay. She seemed like herself again. He walked over and gave her a big hug and a kiss; she swatted his behind as he ran out of the kitchen, the episode at the window already forgotten and visions of Black beard the skeleton, dancing in his head.
Later that evening, as Maddy was having a last cup of tea with her husband before bedtime, she thought about the mysterious “visitor” again. For reasons that she could not fathom, it bothered her. Try as she might, she could not assuage the nervous feeling. Her stomach felt as if it were full of butterflies, batting and fluttering against her ribcage in a desperate attempt to escape.
“Somethin’s just not right, but I don’t know what it is!” she whispered aloud.
She took another sip of warm tea; she felt chilled to her very bones.
“There was somethin’ wrong about that person…somethin’ strange, but what?”
Gage decided to take one last look at the full moon before climbing into bed. It had been a great evening. After he and his dad finished putting the last touches on the decorations, they popped popcorn, sat in the living room and watched The Nightmare Before Christmas together.
He would have preferred something a little scarier, but as Sydney was only four, there were limits to what she could watch. That didn’t deter her from trying her best to catch glimpses of more thrilling movies when Gage watched them in his room. Sitting in the living room while they were watching the movie, he had taken a long look at everyone and everything.
His mom, curled up in a corner of the couch, had a cup of coffee on the end table beside her. She was supposed to be working on order forms for the shop, but “Halloween Jack” kept distracting her; she eventually laid her forms down on the coffee table and watched the movie in earnest.
His father was rocking in his favorite recliner. Always the comedian, he laughed, joked, and sang every song with enthusiasm, making Gage and Sydney laugh. Even though he probably had blueprints that he needed to be working on, he never put his work before his kids and usually sat up late at night to do his work after they had gone to bed.
Sydney was perched on the rug beside Gage in front of the T.V. He noticed how she waved her little hand in the air when a song came on, showering him with popcorn in the process. She tried to sing the songs; when she didn’t know all the words, she simply made up new ones in their place. When the song, “This Is Halloween” came on, Sydney sang:
“I am the one hiding under your bed; I have sharp teeth and I like to eat bread!”
Gage couldn’t help but laugh.
A fire was crackling in the fireplace, his family was here with him, and he thought that he couldn’t have been happier.
Before turning out the Halloween lights and going to bed, they all went outside to admire their hard work. Sydney clapped her hands with delight and excitement, and it took his mother almost an hour afterwards to get her calmed down enough to go to sleep. They really had outdone themselves this year! Besides their usual props and decorations, which were so magnificent they could have easily competed with the best haunted attractions anywhere around, they had also added another graveyard filled with ancient mummies, skeletons, and creepy scarab beetles crawling over a huge crypt. However, Gage and Sydney’s favorite new addition was “The Witches’ Gathering.”
Trent had placed it right where the drive way ended at their house. To the right, a grouping of trees enclosed a bare circle. They had gathered fallen limbs and twigs and stacked them up. Above their stack of wood, they suspended a cauldron from an old sawhorse, painted black. On the night of their party, they would fill the cauldron with dry ice to make it look as if steam was rising out of it. Liv had found some ghoulish witches on eBay, and they had positioned three of them around the cauldron. One of the witches held a spell book, another a wand, and the last gripped a potion bottle in her gnarled hands. The witches’ broomsticks were leaning against the trunk of one of the trees. Stuffed black cats, hanging bats, gruesome jack-o’-lanterns, a few tipped headstones, spiders, and a large Harvest moon hung high in one of the trees completed the arrangement. A spotlight with a green bulb illuminated the threesome as they concocted their magical brew.
Now, in his room, Gage pulled the window blind up and looked out at the moon. He loved the full moon any time of year, but Halloween time was THE BEST! He could imagine the silhouette of a witch riding her broom across the face of the moon, her pet bats flying alongside her. At its brightest, the moon was full of wonder, magic, and mystery. Anything could happen when a full moon shone down.
Oh well, no adventures tonight, except for in my dreams, Gage thought to himself.
His bedroom windows faced the back yard and now that the moon was higher in the sky, he could make out more details than when he was looking earlier with Maddy. Past the swing set and trees, at the path leading to the orchard and his fort, he saw a moving shape. The moon was pulling one of her most famous tricks with shadows and light, so he couldn’t really be sure if the shape was that of a person, or maybe just Tonka. He strained his eyes, but the image did not become any clearer to him - a shadow dancing within shadows.
“Probably is that crazy dog,” Gage muttered as he let the blind drop to the windowsill.
Almost as if he knew his master was talking about him, Tonka padded into the room and flopped down on the rug at the foot of the bed. Gage gaped at him. The malamute stared back and then let out a huge yawn and dropped his head into his paws. Involuntarily, Gage yanked the blind cord so hard that it made a zip sound and banged the top of the sill. With his heart pounding and palms sweating, he looked back at the spot where the specter had been before. There was nothing there but the moon’s gleam, clearly showing that the beginning of the path was empty. However, Gage knew it had not been empty before. The dancing shadow, whatever it had been, had departed…perhaps to slumber, perhaps not.
Chapter Four
Intruder
The rest of the week was hectic. His teachers had returned to their normal homework schedules on Tuesday, and no amount of begging and pleading from the students would make them relent on their decision (Gage had been the most persistent beggar of them all). Between helping his mother at the shop and completing the mounds of homework, including an essay on “Traditional Halloween Customs” (he had enjoyed that one and had gotten top marks), an art poster, and two quizzes, he had rarely finished before dark each night.
For the first two days after the appearance of the “stranger,” Gage had thought about that episode quite a bit. He was upset that he had no chance to go to his fort and check the surroundings for intruders. He mentioned it to Maddy in an off-handed way, but she hadn’t seemed too keen to discuss the matter again. The hustle and bustle of the week had eventually scrubbed the impression from his mind. Maddy must have forgotten too, as she didn’t mention it at all, but Gage did see her glancing out the kitchen window more often than usual.
On Saturday morning, he awoke feeling refreshed after a good night’s sleep. The night before, he had gone to bed feeling like a used tissue wrung and twisted into knots. A good, long rest was just what he had needed.
He dressed and headed to the kitchen for some breakfast. His mother was going shopping for the day with his grandmother, and Sydney was going with them. He was glad for this. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her around, but some days he liked to be by himself, just doing what he enjoyed without any interruptions. Maddy didn’t work on the weekends unless his parents had an engagement. When they did, Gage and Sydney went to Maddy’s house to stay. She usually stopped by at least once during the weekends, either on Saturday or after church on Sunday, as she said, “Two days is just too many for me to go without seeing my babies!”
His dad, sitting at the table and reading a set of blueprints, was the only one in the kitchen. An empty plate and a canned Coke stood beside the papers.
“Good morning, son. Sleep okay?” Trent got up and went to the refrigerator.
“I slept like a rock,” Gage replied as he sank into a chair.
He gazed around their kitchen. He loved this room. It was the heart and soul of their home. To him, the kitchen represented life - the part of the house where the heart beats the strongest.
In this room, his mother and Maddy made wonderful dishes and desserts that sustained the family and made them indescribably happy. He and Sydney would always have fond memories of helping to cook and bake in this room. Although they used the dining room to take their evening meals, the breakfast table was where he did his homework after school, with a glass of soda or a mug of hot chocolate and a snack beside him, while Sydney drew pictures and chattered at the opposite end of the table. The kitchen is where they gathered most mornings and talked about their plans for the day; where his family congregated to laugh, cry, hope and dream.
It was also a very comfortable room. No one would ever use words such as “fancy” or “elaborate” when talking about the décor, but “cozy” was a common word that their neighbors often used. One wall, constructed of old bricks salvaged from a demolished building, housed a group of paintings of different kinds of trees in the fall, their leaves bursting with autumn colors. In the center was a huge painting of a sugar maple like the ones that lined their driveway. A butcher-block island stood in the middle of the kitchen; over it hung gleaming copper pans. The bay window in front of the breakfast table included a shelf where herbs grew in terra cotta pots. The breakfast table was actually an old picnic table that his grandfather had sanded down and stained a rich mahogany-brown. The mismatched chairs around it, all stained the same color, were ones his mother had picked up from garage sales and antique stores; their seats cushions were covered in autumn colors woven in a plaid design. Potted plants, photos, and other small knick-knacks completed the “homey,” yet perfect room.
Over a breakfast of waffles, he made plans with his dad to go pumpkin-picking after his mother and Sydney returned from shopping. They were going to open the pumpkin patch to the public the next day and Gage wanted some good ones for carving before they were claimed by someone else. He decided to go to his fort for a while. After a week of being cooped up in school, he was itching to get outside and enjoy the day.
With Tonka trotting alongside him, Gage walked to the garage and got his 4-wheeler. The day was mild and sunny.
“The perfect day for an adventure,” Gage said to Tonka.
The dog woofed his agreement.
As he drove down the path to his fort, he pondered why the sun seemed to shine so much brighter in the fall than in the summer. Maybe it was not really so, but it seemed to Gage that in autumn the sun’s glare seemed to make everything he looked at seem crisper and clearer. The trees seemed closer than they actually were and he could make out the smallest details on their limbs and bark. Their leaves were vibrant; their colors of bright-gold, crisp-green, ruby-red and sunset-orange popped and actually made his eyes water if he stared at them too long. The sky was a wonderful azure-blue and cloudless. A slight breeze ruffled his hair and swayed the wildflowers along the path. Perfect weather such as this made Gage feel alive and energized. He took a deep breath and then let it out. If only it could stay fall all year ‘round!
Tonka also enjoyed the cooler temperatures. Malamutes are bred as sled dogs and have very heavy coats to help protect them from the winter’s biting cold. During the summer months, they kept him shaved very close to keep him as cool as possible. Tonka could come inside whenever he liked and also had the pond to cool off in. Now, his coat was glorious and thick, in rich colors of russet-red and white. He jogged in front of the ATV jubilantly and sniffed at the air, every once in a while running off the path to chase a bird or rabbit.
Gage parked the 4-wheeler in front of his fort and took his key out of his pocket. Gage kept the front door locked when he wasn’t there. His dad and grandfather had built the fort for him two summers ago out of leftover material from Builder’s Source. They had constructed it around the base of a very old oak tree. The trunk was so big that the two men could not reach around it and touch hands.
They had decided to make it look like a real fort, but with a Southern flair. A front porch led to a real front door, like that on a house, with a fish-eye lens in the middle. The fort also had four genuine windows with screens - two in the front of the fort and two facing the back - so Gage could open them up on nice days without being bothered by insects. The walls were eight feet tall and constructed of treated plywood and two-by-fours. The roof was flat and had real shingles so there were no leaks. The entire fort was tight as a drum and very sturdy. It was Gage’s pride and joy.
He unlocked the front door, opened it, and whistled for Tonka. The dog was sniffing at some brush, but came immediately when Gage commanded. However, as he neared the door, he began to growl low in his throat and shied away. Gage looked inside. There was nothing there that should have caused the dog to react in such a way. He detected no strange smell and saw nothing unusual.
“Come on, boy,” Gage coaxed.
The dog started towards him, but stopped well short of the front step. Tonka whined and looked past him towards the open door. Gage couldn’t understand it. Usually, if he didn’t let Tonka come inside, the dog pawed at the door and jumped up to look in the windows and gaze at him with pitiful, pleading eyes until Gage gave in.