Castle Juliet

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Castle Juliet Page 11

by Brandon Berntson


  Alice thought about all this as they walked down the streets on Halloween, and she began to understand how Jack taught her things he wasn’t aware, and vice-versa. For Alice, it was the perfect friendship. She did not want to lose anything with Jack, no matter how old they grew, or what kind of lives she imagined them living. She wondered if this same thought occurred to Jack.

  “Jack?”

  “Yes, dear Alice?”

  “Do you think we’ll always be friends the way we are now?”

  “Alice,” Jack said, beaming. “You finally want to kiss me!”

  “Jack, be serious. I know this sounds weird, having a conversation like this now, but I can’t stop thinking about it lately. Wouldn’t it be cool if we could just stay this way forever? When everything seems so perfect? I wish we didn’t have to grow up. I wish things never had to change sometimes.”

  Jack was silent for a second, contemplating what Alice said. “I will try to figure out how to stop time, Alice,” Jack said. “And we always be young and go trick-or-treating every day of the year, because everyday will be Halloween if we want it to be. We can play forever in the meadow, carve pumpkins, and defeat every bully the town has. We will never grow old, and we will never die. Like vampires, only cooler, and prettier, and fighting for good instead of evil. We might drift apart sometimes because that’s just the way life is. But we will always be faithful to each other, because this is beautiful, what we have, and we are living, beautiful things now. Yes, I think we will always be best friends, and I will stop time to prove it to you, Alice.”

  She had never heard Jack talk this way before. It was so unlike him, but she loved it, too. “You always know the right things to say, Jack.”

  “Thank you, Alice.”

  “I feel very lucky to have you as a friend.”

  “That’s funny, I was just thinking the same thing. You’re going to make me cry, Alice, if you keep talking this way. What would Mr. Hyde look like with tears spilling down his face?”

  “A gallant gentleman,” Alice said, raising her eyebrows.

  “Come on, dear Alice!” Jack said, taking her hand, and pulling her alongside him. “A whole neighborhood of candy and goodies await before the mighty ham dinner! We have candy to capture! Houses to discover! Graveyards to rob! Why, look at all the gleeful celebrating and fun around us! Who’d have ever thought this ghoulish time of year could make people so happy! And we are smiling, Alice! Because we are the best of friends, and always will be! Quickly, Alice! There’s a lot of ground to cover in such a short time! We must hurry!”

  They ran down the streets, stopped at every door, and rang every bell, shouting: “Trick-or-treat!” Goblins from every window watched them pass. Skeletons on creaking bones turned their heads in their direction. Ghosts pointed them out with laments, jealous of their joy.

  Jack in his top hat and cape, an old-fashioned bridegroom, and Alice in her white dress, a demented princess, eloped from the land of imagination—or into it—as the case may be…

  *

  They took the long way back to Alice’s house, so they could get more candy at other houses along the way. Once they arrived, they stepped inside, and shut the door behind them. A honey-baked ham covered in roasted pineapples sent sumptuous aromas throughout the house. Hot rolls, a bowl of buttered mashed potatoes steamed from the dining room table, which was already set. Jack’s eyes widened at the sight, and his stomach rumbled.

  “How did it go, troopers?” Phillip asked, who’d arrived earlier to chat with Gerald and help with the meal. He was sitting on the couch now, while Gerald smoked his pipe.

  “Great!” Alice said. She held up her pillowcase of candy. “We have plenty to share.”

  “Looks like dessert is taken care of then,” Gerald said, and smiled, his eyes twinkling behind his tortoise-shell glasses.

  Jane was busy setting the last of the food on the table, cheeks ruddy from the heat of the kitchen, her forehead beaded with sweat. Several strands of loose blonde hair hung in her face. Jane set a bowl of fruit salad on the table.

  “You didn’t gorge yourselves with candy before supper, did you?” Jane asked.

  “No, Mother,” Alice said, rolling her eyes. “I strictly told Jack not to eat anything because I said you’d been hard at work all day.”

  “That was very responsible of you, Alice,” Jane said.

  “I only snuck three candy bars when Alice wasn’t looking,” Jack said, smiling proudly. “But I’m still starving and raring for some meat and potatoes.”

  “Jack!” Alice said, whipping her head in his direction.

  “Just razzin’ you, Alice,” he said. “Though, I’m not sure—with my appetite—it would’ve mattered all that much.”

  “That’s nice of you, too, Jack,” Jane said. “Well. Is everyone hungry? It’s time to eat.”

  *

  Halloween was in the air around the table, mainly because of Jack and Alice’s costumes, of course, and the October decorations. Jane was a woman who loved the holidays, and she displayed her enthusiasm in the tablecloths, napkins, placemats, even the dinnerware, which all resembled Halloween in some way or another. Everything was black and orange, it seemed. A black cat arching its back hung on the kitchen window, a wart-nosed witch, skeletons, and ghosts were scattered throughout the house. Funny, how all these creatures had joyous smiles on their faces. They looked anything but scary, but it was that time of year, and Halloween didn’t have to be dark and evil for those who didn’t want it to be. Though, different than the rest, it was merely another holiday, and it could be celebrated with fun and laughter like any other.

  Everybody complimented Jane and her fabulous talents, how well the meal was presented and tasted. Jack helped himself to hot roll after hot roll, heavily buttering each one. Everybody else took second helpings as well.

  The fire crackled warm and bright, setting a cozy glow throughout the house. The oil lamps had been lit.

  “Kind of strange eating this meal with Mr. Hyde and his blood-soaked princess,” Gerald said, and Jane chuckled.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said.

  “They probably poisoned everything when we weren’t looking,” Phillip said.

  “Happy Halloween,” Alice said, smiling wickedly.

  “Not poison,” Jack said. “But if you look closely, you’ll notice all the sharp knives have mysteriously disappeared. Kee-hee-hee.”

  “Oh, Jack, that’s awful,” Jane said.

  They shared and distributed the candy for dessert, and later Gerald mentioned he had rented Halloween and Night of the Living Dead for holiday entertainment.

  “Cooolll!” Jack announced, so loud everyone jumped. Slightly taken aback by his outburst, he blushed crazily. “I mean…uh…those are, like, two of my favorite movies.”

  “Jack doesn’t wait for Halloween to get in touch with his dark side,” Phillip said.

  “So, I’ve noticed,” Gerald said.

  “Should we make some popcorn?” Jane said. “And have some sodas?”

  “Ugh,” Gerald said. “I’m still stuffed from dinner and candy.”

  “Yes!” Alice and Jack said, hopping to their feet and raising their hands. “We want popcorn and soda! We want popcorn and soda!”

  “Where on earth do they put it?” Gerald said, taking his favorite chair, after slipping a video into to the VCR.

  “Jack hides it under his hat,” Phillip said. “And with Alice, it just goes right through her. Thus, all the blood on her head.”

  “Phillip,” Gerald said. “You are a very perceptive man.”

  The sound of popping kernels soon came from the kitchen. Gerald stood up and went to assist his wife. “Dear, you’ve done everything today,” his voice came from the kitchen. “Let me help.”

  “I’m sure you’d manage to burn the popcorn, too, dear, even if you did help,” Jane said.

  “Well, I’ll just pour the sodas,” Gerald said.

  When the popcorn was done, Jack an
d Alice sat on the floor with their sodas, and the popcorn bowl between them. Phillip and Jane shared a small bowl. Gerald pressed the button on the VCR, and the movie began to play. Jack, who inched closer and closer to the television with each handful of popcorn he shoved into his mouth, was soon only inches away. He was lying on his stomach with his elbows on the floor.

  “Son, you’re going to have to take off your hat or scoot back,” Phillip said. “No one else can see.”

  “Oh,” Jack said, taking off his hat and setting it beside him. “Sorry.”

  “Jack you’ll ruin your eyes sitting that close to the television,” Jane said.

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to miss all the gore!” he said.

  *

  Jack and Alice continued their studies twice a week. Tork McGuckin and the Randy Band of Rebel Survivors kept their distance. Jack’s obvious lunacy over the summer was enough to terrify the boys through the fall. Lonny and Pooper began to hang out alone without Tork, who wasn’t present these days anyway. Tork was a loner and had found a better place to keep himself than school. He’d mentioned he’d rather hang out by himself than with a couple of pansies like Pooper and Lonny. His already terrible attendance was getting worse, not that anyone was concerned. For Tork, it had been a long time coming.

  November came, and with it, a bleaker, forceful cold. The last of the leaves had fallen, been raked up, bagged, and taken away. What leaves remained lay scattered across the ground, gathered from the wind in various corners of alleyways, or scattered in soggy heaps across the more neglected parts of town. The sky threatened snow, a solid slate of unbroken gray, hiding every shred of blue. The wind gusted, and a cold rain fell, but the snow had yet to come.

  *

  Thanksgiving was celebrated at Alice’s house with the same number of invited guests. The festivities began at noon, and once again, the house brimmed with the enticing aromas of Jane’s talents: green bean salad, cranberry sauce, homemade rolls, garlic mashed potatoes, gravy, another honey-baked ham and, of course, the main entrée: a golden, succulent turkey. A fire burned in the fireplace. Football—with the sound turned low—was on the television. The Halloween decorations had been taken down, replaced by cartoon character turkeys, amiable pilgrims and Indians, and all the autumn colors that came with the holiday.

  Gerald and Phillip sat together in the living room watching the Vikings beat up the Lions. The Cowboys were playing the Dolphins later that day. This, according to Gerald—who sat in his favorite chair—was the start of a new tradition. From now on, he said, Phillip and Jack were invited to attend every Thanksgiving for football, feasts, and merrymaking. Another tradition—according to Jane—who was once again in the kitchen putting all this together. Alice and Jack were there to help with the meal. They were more than happy to oblige, because it was Thanksgiving after all. Jack—with Jane’s instructions—was fixing together a large plate of deviled eggs, which he was seasoning himself with mustard, bacon bits, and paprika. For every four deviled eggs Jack made, he plopped one into his mouth.

  “Jack, you’re going to stuff yourself on deviled eggs and not have any room for turkey,” Jane said.

  “There’s plenty of room in this ole belly for turkey, rolls, potatoes, stuffing, ham, deviled eggs, pie, and any other concoction you can whip up, Mrs. Jane,” Jack said.

  “He’s right, Mom,” Alice said, who was carefully spreading a spicy cheese on the celery sticks. “I’ve seen Jack down three helpings of applesauce, two servings of hashbrowns, fourteen slices of bacon, and two boxes of Hot Tamales, and he still wanted to go to the movies and have two tubs of Jumbo popcorn and a chili-dog. His stomach never rests.”

  Jane laughed and shook her head pleasantly at this, and went over and took a deviled egg from Jack’s tray and plopped it into her mouth. “Mmm,” she said. “They are delicious, Jack. You’re doing a fabulous job.”

  “Mom, what about me?” Alice said, not wanting to be left out.

  “Oh, you are doing a splendid job, too, little lady,” Jane said, who took a celery stick, and bit crisply into it. “The perfect spread of cheese.”

  Alice stuck her tongue out at Jack.

  “Anyone can spread cheese on a celery stick, Alice,” Jack said. “But deviled eggs take a certain flair.”

  “I don’t know, Jack,” Jane said. “It’s the way she spreads the cheese that impresses me. Why, it’s all flow and swirls like an art form. It’s a wave of cheese on a celery boat!”

  Alice stuck her tongue out at Jack again, who rolled his eyes and plopped a deviled egg into his mouth again. “Mmm,” he said, with his cheek bulging out. “Them deviled eggs is awesome!”

  “Apparently, Jack needs further lessons in grammar,” Alice said.

  Now, Jack stuck his tongue out, which was disgustingly coated in mushy deviled egg, and it was Alice who rolled her eyes.

  “Ugh!” Gerald said from the living room. “The Vikings scored again. Just once, I’d like to see the Lions win on Thanksgiving.”

  “I know the feeling,” Phillip said.

  Both men were sipping cold beers. They were the first beers of the day. Gerald limited himself to one every two hours, so he was nursing his slowly.

  “Sure you don’t want to watch the game, Jacky-boy?” Phillip called from the living room.

  “Oohh,” Jack said, which should’ve translated into No, but his mouth was full of deviled eggs again.

  “Not much of a sports fan, your little Jack,” Gerald said.

  “Nah,” Phillip said. The light from the window was cold, steely and gray, but the fire in the fireplace made everything warm. “Never has been. Jack’s a visionary. Sports don’t interest him. He’ll have something to do with NASA someday, I think.”

  “A rather imaginative and highly creative lad,” Gerald said.

  “I heard that!” Jack called from the kitchen, as if the comment held offense.

  “I think Gerald meant it as a compliment, Jack,” Phillip called.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Jack said. “I’m gonna help Alice build her own rodeo someday. That’s what I want to do!”

  Alice looked at Jack and smiled.

  “True story,” he said.

  Alice blushed, smiled down at the celery sticks, not really seeing them. Soon, the appetizers were on the table—less deviled eggs than there would’ve been—thanks to Jack, but no one complained. Gerald and Phillip stood up from their spots in the living room and approached the small table, where the appetizers had been laid out in a colorful, mouthwatering array of artistic splendor. There was French onion dip, guacamole, fresh salsa and chips, the celery sticks with cheese, other crisp fresh vegetables with ranch dressing, and deviled eggs.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Gerald said, through a mouthful of deviled eggs. “Absolutely deee-lish, Jacky-boy. Wherever did you learn to make such a tasty morsel?”

  “Why, from Jane, of course,” Jack said.

  “A product of culinary talents, lad,” Gerald said, patting Jack on the head.

  “Thank you very much, sir!” Jack said.

  “And Alice,” Phillip said, through a mouthful of celery and spicy cheese. “This is the crispiest, freshiest celery that has ever graced my palate.”

  “I just ran it under cold water,” Alice said.

  “Perhaps,” Phillip continued. “But there is delight in it, the perfect balance of spicy cheese and celery spread evenly in ways across the entire stick. It is a work of art.”

  “Thank you, sir!” Alice said, and stuck her tongue out at Jack, who, once again, rolled his eyes.

  “Yes,” Gerald added. “I must agree with Phillip. A perfect blend of crispy goodness with a splash of robust flavor. Smack my lips.”

  “And thank you, sir!” Alice said, and stuck her tongue out at Jack again.

  Phillip plopped a deviled egg into his mouth, and munched away, much like Jack—with his cheek bulging out. “Land sakes!” he said. “Who’s idea were the bacon bits? They are—in the words of Gerald—dee-lish!”
>
  “That would be Jane, Pop,” Jack said.

  “A triumph, milady,” Phillip contested.

  Jane looked at the table, then to Jack and Alice, then to her husband and Phillip, amused by the entire performance. She wondered if it had been planned in advance.

  “Why, thank you, sir!” Jane said. “But the blend was entirely Jack’s.”

  “Mmm,” Gerald said. “Try the onion dip, dear Phillip. You will not be disappointed.”

  “Are you sure, my good fellow?” Phillip said, raising his eyebrows, and much like Jack would’ve done, he twisted an imaginary mustache. He and Gerald had lapsed into a slightly British accent for the amusement of the audience.

  “Oh, I am quite sure!” Gerald said, nodding. “Quite sure, indeed!”

  Phillip sampled the onion dip and closed his eyes, savoring the taste, while everyone watched in silence. He smiled, shook his head, and looked up, as if a piece of Heaven had just slipped into his mouth.

  “Mary Elizabeth!” Phillip said, opening his eyes. No one knew who Mary Elizabeth was, of course, a simple phrase announcing Phillip’s approval. “Oh, that dip! That dip hits the molars where it matters most! How exquisite! How rare! How…intoxicating.”

  “I think the boys are slightly intoxicated,” Jane said. “But thank you, sir, anyway! We all helped with the onion dip!”

  “Yes, we did, sir!” Alice and Jack both chimed in.

  “Move over, Phillip,” Gerald said. “You’re hogging the whole table.”

 

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