The Haunting of Hounds Hollow

by Jeffrey Salane

  “I get it,” he told his parents when they were back in the car. His mom and dad were sipping on what seemed like their hundredth coffee of the day.

  “Ah! Did you hear something?” Dad joked. “The creature from the back seat speaks! He’s alive! ALIVE!”

  “Calm down, Kyle. I think you’ve had enough coffee,” Mom said as she took his cup and poured it out the window. She turned back to Lucas and asked, “What do you get, honey?”

  “Your plan,” Lucas replied. “You want me in some sort of chocolate glazed donut sugar coma so I don’t mind the drive.”

  “Pfft, no way. What are you talking about?” Mom said. “This amount of sugar should put you in a happy coma for at least the first month at Hounds Hollow. That was our plan.”

  Lucas should have known his parents would aim straight for his Achilles’ heel—his sweet tooth. He looked at Lucky sleeping soundly in the carrier next to him. “You guys are treating me like the cat, you know.”

  “Not true,” Dad said matter-of-factly. “We didn’t give Lucky any donuts. He just likes to ride in cars.”

  “So you’re treating me worse than the cat?” Lucas flicked the side of Lucky’s carrier, and the cat gently lifted its head and glared at him. Then Lucky inched over and rubbed against Lucas’s hand.

  “Well, you’re not in a cage,” said Mom. “Yet.”

  Outside the window, trees crowded the side of the road. His family had pulled off the interstate almost an hour ago and were traveling down a two-lane street that spent more time winding than going straight. The effect of each curve made Lucas feel like they were driving through a curtain of forest. And it didn’t help that they were the only car on the road, too. Even at that last gas station/Dunkin’ Donuts combo outpost, the workers had been really surprised to see them.

  Of course, their packed-to-the-brim car was an odd sight. The bumpers were dinged and paint chipped from years of parking in the city, and the engine was loud with a squeaky noise that sounded like a banshee singing through the woods. Plus, with most of their suitcases strapped to the roof and folded blankets blocking out the back window, the Trainers must have looked like they lived out of their car.

  His mother tapped him on the knee. “Aren’t you going to ask us the age-old child-on-a-road-trip question, ‘Are we there yet’?”

  Lucas shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t want to know when we’ll get there … because I don’t want to be there. I want to know when we’ll go back home.”

  His parents exchanged a quick glance before his mom worked her way around in the seat to face Lucas. “I know this is tough. I do. You left your entire life back there in the city. We left ours, too.”

  Lucas peered out the window as she spoke. He was afraid that if he looked at her, he might start to choke up again, just when his throat had finally stopped hurting.

  Lucas’s mother pressed on. “Honey, between your father getting his new job and Uncle Silas leaving me the house in his will, it was like the stars aligned and the universe made the decision for us. Plus, the doctors say—”

  “I don’t care what the doctors say about me.” Lucas tried to turn his back dramatically to his mom, but the back seat was so crammed, all he could do was squirm.

  His mom put her hand on his knee. “I know you don’t. You’re not supposed to, Lucas. That’s for us to worry about. We know you’re upset, and probably mad at us, too. Still, like it or not, we’re on this new adventure together. You, me, Dad, Lucky … and the Dark Cloud.”

  The Dark Cloud was what Lucas’s parents called his condition. There was no other name for it, because no one knew what it was. Doctors from all over had tried to diagnose the dark clouds that marked Lucas’s X-rays ever since he first started having trouble breathing. Test after test came back inconclusive, which was hospital-speak for We have no idea what’s going on. The clouds grew with him, an expanding atmosphere inside his body that started in his lungs and spread outward. At this point, Lucas’s X-rays looked like a weather tracker with a storm swirling over his bones. He didn’t like to think about it, because on the outside, he looked absolutely fine. But his insides stung with a dull ache he’d learned to live with.

  He squirmed away from his mother’s hand and began to cough.

  “Do you need your CPAP? I have it back here.” His mother quickly unlatched her seat belt and pulled at the pile of things beside him. Lucky gave her an angry meow as she shifted his carrier.

  “I’m fine, Mom,” Lucas snapped. “Not every cough is the end of the world.”

  There was a silence before his dad spoke up. “You’re right, Lucas. And not every move is the end of the world, either. Think of it as a new kind of life. You’ve lived in the big city, and now you get to live in the great outdoors. Fresh air, grass under your feet instead of concrete, space to explore. I mean, our new house is so much bigger compared to our tiny two-bedroom apartment, you could get lost in it.”

  But Lucas didn’t want the great outdoors. He didn’t want nature or cavernous space to get lost in. He wanted his normal life back, but that life was already hundreds of miles away. It wasn’t the apartment he missed, necessarily. It was the hustle and bustle, even the random sounds in the middle of the night—the liveliness of the city that you just couldn’t get out in the quiet country. Lucas straightened up and said, “Do you realize that we might never hear another ice-cream truck song ever again?”

  His mom laughed and snorted at the same time, like his joke had surprised her. He loved making his mom laugh like that. “Oh, you and that song. You had the sharpest ears, like a guard dog. That truck could be nine blocks away and you’d be at my side asking for ice cream.”

  Now it was Lucas’s turn to laugh, but he felt that lump stick in his throat again. How could some stupid, twinkly song make him feel so rotten now, when it used to make him so happy?

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” Mom asked.

  Lucas nodded back to his mother. He hadn’t been paying any attention to his parents during the drive, but now he saw all the telltale signs. Her eyes were puffy and red, she held a tissue in her hand, and her nose was running. She didn’t want to leave the city, either.

  After a moment, Lucas caved and asked, “Are we there yet?”

  “Oh, we’re close now!” said his dad as he pointed to a wooden sign up ahead.

  The weather-beaten sign with cracks at the edges read WELCOME TO HOUNDS HOLLOW. There were two mountains on the sign, behind the words, and as the car sped by, Lucas could have sworn the two mountains looked more like a creature howling, though whether this was intentional, Lucas wasn’t sure. It was less than welcoming. In fact, it looked kind of evil.

  “Well, isn’t that … cute,” Mom said.

  She thought everything was cute. The scary movies Lucas watched were cute. His demon costume for Halloween was cute. Even after Lucas’s operation, she told him his scar was cute. He’d lived with his mom for a long time now. When she said cute, she didn’t mean cute. It was her code word. It meant she didn’t know what else to say.

  Lucas tipped back his head and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he stared at the car’s tan roof. Some of the upholstery had become unglued and created a little pocket of air. He reached up and poked it, then turned his head toward the window to watch the treetops streak by. What in the world had he gotten himself into?

  After what felt like twenty minutes, Lucas asked the prizewinning question again. “Are we there yet?”

  The radio cut in and out as his mother searched for any station signal. Nothing stuck. “I don’t know. Kyle, are we close?”

  “I think so.” His father slowed down at every possible path that veered off from the main road, looking left and right. “I mean, there’s not really a sign for the place.”

  “But I thought you’d been here before?” asked Lucas.

  “Sure, but only with the estate lawyer,” said Dad. “I think I remember that tree.” He pointed to a tree that looked like every other tree in the forest.<
br />
  “A tree, Dad?” said Lucas. “Great. Admit it: We’re lost.”

  “We’re not lost, we’re … momentarily displaced,” said Dad. “And that’s not the tree. So we press on.”

  Dusk had settled in and the roadway was beginning to get dark. The car lights automatically flicked on as his parents swiveled their heads to either side of the road.

  “It’s gotta be around here somewhere.” His father stared down at a map absentmindedly as the car went around another turn.

  Suddenly Lucas saw a shadow dart into the road. In the fading light, the figure was hard to make out, but it crouched as the car approached. Time seemed to slow down. First, Lucas noticed the shadow’s shaggy black hair. Then he saw it rise up, standing on two legs. It held something round in its arms that could be either a head or a wizard’s fireball. Lucas really hoped that it was neither. Finally he realized that the car was heading right for a kid, and she was very, very real.

  “DAD, STOP!” screamed Lucas from the back seat.

  Lucas’s dad looked up from the map and slammed on the brakes just in time. The abrupt stop sent Lucas lunging forward into his seat belt; the strap tightened against his chest and threw him into a coughing fit, as though the Dark Cloud were trying to escape his lungs. Piles of blankets flipped over and buried Lucas, but he caught Lucky’s carrier just before it tipped sideways and fell off the seat. The screech from the tires echoed in the evening as Lucas frantically tried to dig himself out to see what was going on.

  The girl stood in the headlights, but she didn’t look scared or surprised. She looked to be around Lucas’s age, but while Lucas was pale as a ghost, this girl was sun-crisp tanned. Lucas could now see that the thing in her hands was a basketball. The girl calmly bounced it as she walked around to his side of the car.

  Lucas’s dad rolled down the window. “I’m so sorry—are you okay? What are you doing in the middle of the road?” He was breathing heavily. “I could have—you could have—”

  “No one drives up this way ’less they live here,” the girl said flatly. “And no one lives here anymore. So are you lost?”

  “Yes—no … maybe,” Dad managed to say.

  “Well, sir, which is it?” asked the girl as she bounced the basketball again.

  “We’re looking for the Silas Sweetwater residence,” Lucas’s mom said. “Do you know where it is?”

  The girl nodded. “I can get you there, but I’m afraid I have some bad news about Silas. He passed away some weeks back.”

  “We’re not looking for him,” Mom said. “We’re looking for his house—I mean, our house. Silas Sweetwater was my great-great-uncle.” She picked the map up from the floor and passed it over to Lucas’s dad, who held it out of the car to the girl.

  “You won’t find it on a map,” she said without even looking at the paper. “But I can take you there if you have room in your car.”

  Lucas’s parents exchanged a look. Even he knew that letting a stranger into the car was high up on the list of horrible mistakes to make when driving down backwoods roads at night.

  “No, that’s okay,” said Dad. “We can find it on our own, I’m sure.”

  “Doubt it.” The girl bounced the ball again. Lucas could hear it crush against the small dirt pebbles in the road and he saw the cloud of dust lift up from where it hit. “Silas built that place out past where anyone ever goes.”

  “In that case, what are you doing out here, sweetie?” Mom asked.

  “I’m the closest neighbor.” The girl nodded to the other side of their car. Lucas followed her motion and was surprised to see a house sitting inside the woods. The lights must have just turned on because it was impossible to miss, now that he saw it.

  “Bessie Ann Armstrong, what are you doing out in that road!” The call came from the driveway leading to the house as an older woman made her way over.

  Lucas’s mom rolled down her window. “Sorry, Mrs., um, Armstrong. I’m Holly Trainer, your new neighbor.”

  “That’s right. Y’all must be the ones taking over the Sweetwater place,” Mrs. Armstrong said. As she came out of the shadows, Lucas could see that her hair was tied back under a bandana and she was wearing short-shorts under a long polo shirt. “Welcome to the neighborhood! I’m Mae, and goodness, clearly I wasn’t expecting company tonight. Look at me, I’m a fright.”

  “No, no, it’s our fault,” said Mom. “We basically stopped by unannounced. Not very neighborly of us.”

  “Awe, please, darling. Y’all are welcome to drop by anytime.” Mae leaned into the car and gave Lucas’s mom an awkward hug as if they’d been friends for years.

  When Lucas turned back around, Bessie was right by his window, peering inside. He flinched back in his seat and the blankets tumbled on top of him all over again.

  “You’re a jumpy one, huh?” she said. “Mom, they need directions to their new home. Okay if I show them the way?”

  “Of course, Bessie. First time to the place, is it?” Mae Armstrong reached over across Lucas’s mom to shake hands with his dad. “Howdy, I’m Mae.”

  “I’m Kyle,” said Dad. “I suppose we could use a navigator, if that’s okay. We can drive your daughter back, too.”

  “Oh, no need, Kyle,” said Mae. “Bessie can just walk back through the woods. See, by the roads, our houses are far apart, but by the woods, well, we can practically spot each other from our kitchen windows! Funny how that is.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Mom. “Lucas, scoot over and let Bessie inside.”

  Lucas widened his eyes at his mom, sending a telepathic message begging for her to not let this girl into their car, but his mother sent a telepathic message back to him letting him know that if he didn’t scoot over that instant, she was going to make him get out and wait with Mae Armstrong. The whole magical communication lasted probably five seconds, before Lucas gave in and opened the car door.

  The girl handed him the basketball, and then she climbed inside. Lucas was crushed next to her, stuck between Lucky, blanket piles, his backpack, her basketball, and this odd girl whose legs were now touching his. Yuck.

  “Head straight,” she said as she clicked her seat belt into place. “Then ’bout three miles down, you’ll turn right.”

  “Okeydokey,” his dad said as they pulled away, leaving Mae waving behind them.

  Lucas leaned his head against the basketball out of embarrassment before realizing that the basketball was covered in dirt. He jerked back and tried to wipe off his forehead, but his hands were now covered in dirt, too.

  “Jumm-pee.” Bessie drew out the word so that it became two long syllables.

  “Bessie, this is our son, Lucas,” his mom said.

  “You can call me Bess,” the girl said. “Only my mom calls me Bessie, and that’s usually when I’m in trouble.”

  Even though Lucas’s mother had already introduced him, Bess made no friendly moves. She didn’t shake his hand, or smile, or even give him a nod. She just kept her eyes on the road.

  The car was eerily quiet as the next three miles crept by. Lucas stared at the floor and leaned forward, wishing he were anywhere but in that back seat right now.

  Suddenly Bess leaned down next to him and softly said, “You aren’t gonna hurl, are ya?”

  “What? No, no way.” Lucas was shocked as he sat back.

  “Good. Cause if you hurl, I’ll hurl.” Bess cleared her throat, and Lucas could hear the phlegm slug its way up and back down. “And I don’t want to ruin all your blankets back here.”

  “So, we’re gonna be neighbors,” said Lucas.

  “Take this right,” Bess called out.

  Dad listened and turned, but he was going so fast that Lucas slid over into the strange girl. His face went straight into her wild, black hair. It smelled like the trees and sunshine. Bess was expecting the turn, however, and caught Lucas as he leaned into her. Then she steadied him and went on as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

  “Are you sure this is a
road, Bess?” Mom asked from the front seat. Lucas could hear the tires rumbling over the dirt path.

  “It’s not a road, it’s your driveway.” Bess peered over the driver’s-side headrest. “Is this all-wheel drive? If not, you might want to invest in a new car. Driveways get muddy around here in the winter.”

  The drive narrowed as they went along and then Lucas’s father stopped the car. There was an old covered bridge ahead. “I don’t remember there being a bridge when I came here.”

  “You must have come from the south side, then,” said Bess.

  “South side?” asked Lucas’s mom. “How many driveways does this house have?”

  “Four,” Bess said matter-of-factly, holding up four fingers, as if that was going to drive the point home even more for the Trainers. “North, south, east, and west.” She paused a second before adding, “That I know of.”

  “Sounds … busy,” said Mom. She shrugged her shoulders as his father drove onto the bridge.

  The car bounced on the old wooden floor like a boat on the water. Boards outside creaked and cracked as Lucas felt the back of the car dip lower than the front. He gripped Bess’s basketball tighter and wondered if it could also be used as a flotation device in case of an emergency water landing.

  “I’m gonna need that back, you know,” said Bess.

  “I know,” said Lucas. “But I’m holding it for now.”

  “I can see that,” said Bess as the car eased off the bridge and back onto the road. “The bats must be out searching for food. They’re usually sleeping in there.”

  “Bats?” asked Lucas, making sure he’d heard her correctly.