by M. E. Eadie
Chapter Eleven: Costumes
They felt a little odd--the Phoenix, the Coyote, and Colin--as they followed Sergeant Peary away from the secret tower room. “Odd is all right, some of the best things are odd,” explained Peary. To Colin, the immense space behind him filled with potential storm made him feel like he was being followed by something way beyond his control, and it wasn’t just a bit odd, it was unnerving.
They stepped into the foyer where everyone was waiting for them. With a critical eye, Grizzelda examined their costumes from head to toe. Spike felt as though she might be sizing him up to join the heads of the once hunted animals, which lined the walls of the entranceway. Then she smiled and he allowed himself to breathe again.
Grizzelda, Ofelia, and Melissa were dressed up as witches, identically costumed in floor-length, silk dresses and capes, and long conical, broad-brimmed hats, in three of Grizzelda’s favorite shades of black--midnight eclipse, charcoal eternity, and woodsmoke cinder. As well, each of them had a handsome-looking straw broom at her side, and each of them had added a unique accessory to her costume: from Melissa’s ears hung little miniature skeletons that clattered ominously every time she moved her head; Ofelia held a small cauldron; and on Grizzelda’s shoulder, perched precariously, was the Marcus doll. Rhea’s mom hovered anxiously by the front door, her notepad clasped tightly to her chest, her eyes darting nervously around the foyer. She wanted nothing more than to grab hold of Rhea’s hand and escape from Horwood House.
“Wonderful!” said Grizzelda blithely, as she circled them, examining the detail of the costumes, “Absolutely marvelous!” She gave Sergeant Peary a slightly condescending smile, a part of her old self emerging, “I’m assuming you dressed them?”
Sergeant Peary shrugged his shoulders, looking a bit uncomfortable, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have done. “I suppose you could say that.”
Mrs. Li had tentatively moved to where Rhea stood, staring at her with a great deal of caution and uncertainty. Her eyes were wide, reflecting the dancing flames on her daughter’s costume.
“Rhea?” she asked hesitantly. “Is that you?”
“Mom, can I go? Can I, please, go to the party at the funeral home?” she pleaded behind her mask.
Mrs. Li bristled. “Absolutely not! Oh, no dear, you don’t want to be going there, do you? Isn’t that Halloween party just for adults, not children? I’m sure it is. Oh, look, part of your hair is sticking out!” She bent over to fix Rhea’s hair, and while she was doing so, whispered, “Who is she talking to, and where did you get this costume?”
“Motherrrrr. I do want to go, and you know the party isn’t just for adults! And, if you really want to know, Grizzelda is talking to Sergeant Peary. He’s the ghost standing over there beside Colin. You don’t see him, do you? Well, he’s there. And that’s where I got my costume … from the ghost.” She saw her mother’s hesitation and pursued her advantage. “Please, can I go?”
“You’re pulling my leg, Rhea. You love to do that, don’t you, dear?” Mrs. Li laughed nervously, then said, “Absolutely not,” in answer to Rhea’s plea, although with a little less finality in her voice than before. She made a move back toward the front door, hoping to coax her daughter out of the house, when Grizzelda approached her.
“If you let Rhea come to the party, I’ll permit someone to home school the children.”
Mrs. Li was unsure what to think. Why this unexpected overture of peace? Why now? True, the evening’s discussion had been without the usual thrust and parry, but it had ended in the customary stalemate not five minutes ago. Still, the idea of letting Rhea go to the annual Halloween party at Bevis, Bunk and Tellings gave her pause. The funeral home had been throwing a Halloween party, one of their community-minded gestures, for over a quarter of a century, and she’d never heard anything negative about these parties. It would probably be completely harmless, even though she, herself, wasn’t enamored of celebrating Halloween, feeling it was in rather poor taste to make much of ghosts, witches, goblins – and the dead.
“Can she be home by eleven o’clock, or so? And who will watch out for her?” she asked giving in.
“Our dear Ofelia will chaperone her, Mrs. Li, and we’ll see her home safely as soon as they draw for the door prizes at midnight.”
“I’d like to talk with my daughter.” Mrs. Li pulled Rhea aside, just out of listening range. “You really want to go, don’t you? Rhea nodded. Well, if I let you go,” she said, giving a small, internal shiver, “you will have to do something for me.” She moved closer, her lips almost touching Rhea’s ear. “Watch Ms. Horwood, she has been acting very strange. I think her state of mind is quite fragile at the moment. And whatever you do, please, stay close to Ofelia and the boys this evening.”
Rhea nodded gravely to show she understood her mission--or was it more of a warning? She and her mother had always been close, but since her father had died, a distance had grown up between them. This confidence held the old familiarity again and Rhea had every intention of doing as her mom advised, but it didn’t dampen the thrill of being able to attend the party.