by Rich Wallace
Danny walked faster. The crowds were gone from Main Street, but the cleanup was in full swing. Tents were coming down, trash was being dumped into the backs of trucks, and the ladder of a fire engine was extended to the top of the highest scaffold. A police cruiser sat in the middle of the street; its siren was off, but its blue light was flashing.
Danny felt glum and wished he could settle into a seat at the Colonial Theater and watch more cartoons. But that had ended hours ago. So he’d probably had his last laugh for the day.
Brewbakers Coffee Shop, alongside the Colonial, was still open. It was a place he visited with his mother occasionally. She liked the hippie vibe and the fresh roasted coffee. Danny’d had his fill of junk food today, but a hot chocolate would be nice to kill the chill and maybe lift his spirits.
Claudine had had the same idea. She was in the last booth in the back of the narrow space. She glowered at Danny when he walked in. But he got his drink and slid across from her in the booth. There were only two other customers, at a table by the front window.
“Too bad about the fireworks,” Danny said.
Claudine looked down at her mug of chocolate. “Yeah.”
Danny blew on his cup, which was steaming hot. Claudine looked more angry than sad. He wanted to ask what had happened, just out of curiosity.
“What’s with that girl?” Claudine asked.
“Nothing much. She’s in my class. Janelle. Nice person.”
Claudine smiled slightly. “Then why does she like you?”
Danny blushed. “She doesn’t. Not like like. She likes everybody. We just happened to be in the same place for a while.”
“But you brought her to Dad’s reading.”
“I think she just wanted to get out of the rain.”
They sipped their drinks for a moment. A Bob Dylan song was playing softly. That was the usual sound track in here: sixties-ish type folk rock all night and day.
Danny swiped a dark drip from the side of his mug and licked his finger. “She liked the reading, though. Said he had an incredible way with words.”
“He does … sometimes.”
“I thought he was pretty good tonight. Too bad the crowd was so small.”
Claudine raised her eyebrows. “Tell me about it. Five hundred people watching Daffy Duck this afternoon and he couldn’t get twenty for a live performance.”
“He didn’t seem bothered.”
“No. He couldn’t have been expecting a big crowd. I thought more faculty would show up, though.”
“He made at least one fan.”
“Janelle?”
Danny winced and nodded. He hadn’t made Janelle a fan of his tonight; he’d said too many unkind things about Claudine.
Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon” came on. Claudine took the last swig of her hot chocolate and pushed the mug gently aside.
The door opened and three college guys came in, shaking off the rain. They seemed to know the lone server very well, and joked around with her before ordering coffees. The college students were notorious for having massive parties after Pumpkin Fest, and sometimes for being destructive. Danny had noticed more police out tonight. But these guys looked benign.
“What’d you eat today?” Claudine asked.
Danny went down the list. Everything he’d eaten was either fried or sugary.
“Better not tell Dad,” Claudine said. “He’ll put you on a lettuce diet for a week.”
Danny laughed. Claudine could be funny. Should he ask why she’d been crying? Did it matter?
“You okay?” he asked. It was the first time in his life he’d ever thought to ask his sister anything like that.
“Better,” she said. Then she nodded. “Definitely better.”
Danny stared into his mug and finished it.
Claudine took out her phone.
“Who you calling?”
“It’s almost ten,” she said. “Hi, Mom. They canceled the fireworks.… Yeah, I’m with him.… I know, right? We’re at the coffee shop.… We will.… Love you, too.”
“What’d she say?”
“She said not to hurry as long we’re safe and dry.”
“You want something else?”
“No. But maybe we’ll just sit here for a while.”
This was far more surprising to Danny than the fact that he’d hung out with Janelle for two hours. But they talked about the pumpkins and the poetry and the food, and Danny didn’t say a single awful thing the whole time.
Claudine shook her head after a long pause. “We’re not normal, Danny.”
“No kidding. I was actually quoting Wordsworth tonight when I should have been acting cool.”
“What did she think about it?”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“You should have quoted Bugs Bunny.” Claudine sighed and looked away. “Kids can be really mean.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing, really. I was just invisible, as usual. We should get home.”
Danny grabbed the handles of both mugs in one hand and set them on the counter. “Should we stay on the street or go through the campus?” he asked.
“Campus is nicer,” Claudine said. “At least once we get past the dorms.”
They walked quietly through the grassy quad and beyond the college library. The rain was steady and the wind was building up, but they’d been warmed by the hot chocolate. Danny was in no hurry to get home.
The arts center was ahead, and the pond.
“ ‘It was the very witching time of night,’ ” Danny said, quoting “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” Their dad had read that story to them a hundred times when they were little.
“ ‘Ichabod, heavyhearted and crestfallen, pursued his travel homeward,’ ” Claudine continued.
“Why do we know those things?” Danny asked. “I mean, every guy I know can tell you the Celtics’ free-throw percentage or the Patriots’ first-round draft choices for the past twenty years. My head’s filled with ancient poetry and short stories.”
“Mine, too. That’s what we get for having an English professor in the house.”
“How’d you like that one about the dead boy in the churchyard? Did you learn your lesson about what a precious treasure your brother is?”
Claudine laughed. “It would take a lot more convincing than that.”
A thud on the path ahead of them brought them to a halt. Danny could see what looked like a smashed basketball, or a head.
“It’s a pumpkin,” he said, kneeling in front of it. He looked around, but they were away from any buildings and the patches of trees were dark.
“It didn’t just fall out of nowhere,” Claudine said. “Some college kid must have thrown it.”
“Watch what you’re doing!” Danny said sharply, but there was no one around to direct it to. He lowered his voice. “It’s a jack-o’-lantern. Probably from the festival.”
They circled past the arts center, then walked along the dirt path toward home. They heard a whistle from the woods.
“Who’s there?” Danny said as he stopped.
There was no reply, of course.
“Should we go back?” Claudine asked. “To where it’s lighted?”
“Our house is right there,” Danny said. They were 250 yards from home.
There was another splat, and some wicked laughter. Another broken pumpkin rolled toward them and stopped, its lopsided grin looking more evil in the very dim light.
“Let’s go back,” Claudine whispered.
“No. Somebody’s just trying to scare us.”
“Well, they’re succeeding,” Claudine said. “I know it’s not a ghost, but this is not cool.”
Danny stood up straight. In a loud, mocking voice, he said, “It must be the headless horseman. Boy, are we ever scared.”
There was more laughter. Sounded like two boys. Danny had a good idea who it was.
“Nice try, Luke,” Danny said. Maybe Janelle hadn’t been impressed with Danny, but Luke had struck ou
t even worse. Of course he wanted revenge.
“Whooo-hoooo-ooo,” came the voice from the woods.
“Is that the best you can do, Luke?” Danny replied.
Luke stepped out of the woods with Carter behind him. “I can do a lot better, Danny.” He smacked his fist into his palm.
There was another sound now, a soft snort from way behind them. Luke took a step closer. “You got some nerve going off with Janelle,” he said. “I told you, you had no chance.”
“Looks like you figured wrong,” Danny said. “She specifically left because she didn’t want to be around you.”
Luke balled up both fists and stared at Danny.
“Let us get past,” Danny said. “It’s late.”
“I’ll let you go when I’m ready,” Luke said.
Claudine chimed in. “Don’t be a jerk. Leave my brother alone.”
“Stay out of this,” Luke said.
“Why? So the two of you can beat him up?”
Luke jutted his head toward Carter. “He’ll stay out of it, too.” He laughed. “As if I needed help.”
Danny was shaking, but he wasn’t going to run from Luke. He didn’t think there’d be a fight; if Luke beat up somebody as small as Danny, it would turn Janelle against him forever.
But Luke stepped closer and gave Danny a shove. “Stay away from her, you hear?”
Danny stepped forward. “She can choose her own friends.”
There was another loud huff, and some scraping at the dirt path about fifty feet away. Danny turned to look. Some drunk college kids?
“Leave my brother alone,” Claudine said again.
Luke dropped his fists, but he gave Danny another shove.
“Cut it out!” Danny said, shoving back.
Luke pulled back an arm and flung it, whacking Danny in the shoulder with an open palm. Danny stumbled sideways and fell to his knees. Luke stood his ground.
Something was coming up the path, hard. Danny couldn’t quite hear it, but he could sense it. He darted toward the pond. “Move, Claudine!” he shouted.
Claudine scurried to the side. Luke stayed in the center of the path, glaring at Danny. And then his expression turned to horror.
The horses were charging him. Four of them, their hooves pounding the dirt and their tails upraised.
At the last second, Luke dove into the woods, screaming in pain as he landed. He cursed and kicked.
The horses raced away. Danny watched them go, as thin as that morning’s mist but as powerful as any storm.
“What the heck was that?” Carter said. He stood with his mouth hanging open, having just barely missed being trampled.
“I cut my hand and sprained my ankle!” Luke said. “Somebody help me.”
Danny was still watching the horses. They raced the entire length of the path, then vanished into the woods. His mouth was hanging open, too.
“ ‘Now shadow, now flesh, now sinewed hocks,’ ” Danny whispered. “Awesome!”
“What was that?” Carter asked again. “The ghost horses?”
No one answered. Luke stumbled out of the woods, limping badly. He sat down hard on the path and groaned.
“Stay there,” Claudine said. “We’ll get help.”
“We will?” Danny whispered. “Why should we help him?”
“It looks like he’s hurt pretty bad.”
“He deserves it.”
Claudine took a step toward Luke. “We should let you crawl home, but we’re not like that. We’ll get my dad.”
Luke winced with pain and grabbed his leg. “Hurry up.”
“That’s all you can say?” Claudine said. “How about ‘Thank you’?”
Luke said, “Thank you” through his clenched teeth. “What if those horses come back?”
“Duck,” Danny said with a sneer.
The rain had finally stopped, and the moon broke through the clouds.
“What’s his problem?” Claudine asked.
“He likes Janelle,” Danny said. “He didn’t like the fact that she hung around with me all night.”
“I guess Janelle has a brain.”
“For avoiding him?”
“Yeah.” Claudine stopped at the edge of the yard and looked up at the moon. “And for preferring you, I suppose.… Just don’t pick your nose in front of her.”
“I’ll make sure she isn’t looking.… But she wasn’t very impressed with me either.”
“No?”
“No. And she was right.”
Dad called campus security; then he and Danny went back to the pond. Within minutes, two security guards had helped Luke onto a golf cart. They drove away.
“How did he get hurt?” Dad asked.
“He got scared and jumped off the path.”
“I see.”
“It was those horses, Dad. They ran right at him!”
Dad nodded. He stroked his chin and scanned the pond. “They’re here. Listen.”
Danny could hear their soft nickering across the water.
“Very few people have ever seen or heard them,” Dad said.
Danny strained to see, but the pond was dark. He headed along the path, hoping to catch a closer glimpse.
“So you saw them at full gallop?” Dad asked. “In all their majesty?”
“They were beautiful,” Danny said. “Pure power.”
Way in the distance he could hear laughter and yelling, over by the dorms. But close by the only sounds were some dripping from the trees.
“Was that boy picking on you?”
“What makes you ask?”
Dad cleared his throat. “Those horses have been protective of me over the years. They’ve appeared when I’ve needed them most.”
“Like when you were being chased?”
“Not chased. But … down. In need of a lift … They’re Morgans, you know. A very smart, athletic breed.”
There was no sign of the horses when they reached the other side of the pond. No nickering or strong breathing.
“I don’t fit in so well,” Danny said softly.
“Nor do I,” Dad replied. “You don’t have to.”
Danny nodded.
Dad pointed to the moon and recited:
Upon the moon I fixed my eye,
All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my horse drew nigh
Those paths so dear to me.
“Wordsworth?”
“Yes.”
“You know that girl who was with me? Janelle? She thought your poems were incredible.”
“I do what I can. I can’t come close to Wordsworth; I know that full well. But that doesn’t stop me from trying, from writing in the best way I can.”
“ ‘With quickening pace my horse drew nigh’?”
“ ‘Those paths so dear to me.’ ”
Danny watched the water, the small ripples that caught the moonlight for a second. There were a few twitters of birds, a pleasant smell of wet dirt and pond water.
Dad placed his hand gently on Danny’s shoulder, then withdrew it. “It’s rather cold out here,” he whispered. “I’m going to go in.”
“I’ll be there soon,” Danny said. “And Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
“For what, Danny?”
“I don’t know. The glimmering lake. The spectral niche. Stuff like that.”
Dr. Morgan stood still for a moment, and a small smile appeared on his lips. He nodded and walked away.
Danny let out his breath and caught a glimpse of the mist as it swirled away. There was no one near, and very little light. The only awareness was his own, focused on the pond and the cold and the moon overhead.
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, then walked. The smashed pumpkin had a huge crack and smelled fresh and strong. From the pond came a short whinny, and Danny could see the horses again, swimming with their heads raised high. They crossed the water and emerged on the other side, just barely visible in the moonlight.
&nbs
p; Danny turned for home. He knew that he’d never be lonely again.
RITES OF PASSAGE
The five children of a farming couple all died young—by accident or by murder. Over the years, the farmer built five barns on his property, burying a child beneath the floor of each and sealing the doors off with bricks. According to legend, at least one of those children has not yet found eternal rest.
“Chase Tavern?” Owen frowned at his friend Mason. “Why would I want to go there?” Chase Tavern had always freaked him out.
“It’s a costume thing,” Mason said. “The night before Halloween. You dress up like it’s Colonial times and dance to old music.”
Owen shook his head and slammed his locker shut. “Do you really think that makes it sound better? What am I, five? You expect me to dress up like Ben Franklin or something?”
Mason rolled his eyes and stabbed Owen’s scrawny arm with a finger. He was bigger, softer, and way more talkative than Owen.
“There’s only one reason we’re going,” Mason said. “Girls.”
“Lots of girls?”
“No,” Mason said. “That’s the great thing about it. A very select few. And hardly any competition for us from other guys.”
Owen walked quickly down the hall. The sun would be setting in an hour and he couldn’t wait to get out of school. “Which girls?” he asked, not turning to see if Mason was following.
“Sophie. Darla … Emma.”
Owen blushed. “So?” Neither he nor Mason had ever had a girlfriend, or anything even remotely like a girlfriend. But here they were, two months into seventh grade. Maybe it was time.
“That place is haunted,” Owen said.
“Everybody says that. So what?” Mason’s mouth dropped open. “Which are you more afraid of—girls or ghosts?”
“I’m not afraid of either,” Owen replied, although that wasn’t true at all. “But what makes you think Sophie and them would have any interest in us?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mason said. “Maybe because Sophie told me about it. Practically begged us to come to the thing.”
“Us?”
“She knows if I go, you’ll go.”