by Alexa Davis
I rolled my eyes and smiled as he went on, “Walter was good. Somehow, he convinced the rich guy he wasn’t such a bad guy, and they became friends.
“The guy bought some property, and he and his wife started building this big, 1.5-2 million dollar villa on 1,500 acres. They named the ranch and the main road that led up to the property after Scott. It was supposed to be their winter home to get them out of the harsh, Chicago weather, but they ran into some problems trying to get it built.
“That property was owned by the Death Valley Parks service. So, they moved all the pieces of the house up and started over. It wasn’t quite finished when the stock-market crash happened and the man and his wife had to open it up to travelers and rent rooms out to keep from going bankrupt.
“They didn’t have any heirs, so when they died, they left it to a charitable organization – the same one that took care of Scott until he died. The parks service eventually bought the place from the charity for something like $850,000.
“Now they offer tours, and there’s even one where you can do an underground tour on a bus to see all of the fancy tile and stuff they planned on using in the swimming pool and furnishings for other rooms that were never completed. It’s a cool place.”
“And it reminds you that being a con man can be a good retirement plan.”
He laughed. “I have a feeling Walter Scott was not your ordinary con man,” he said.
“Doesn’t sound like it. But you…wow! How do you know all of that? You sounded like a historian.”
He smiled and maneuvered the big truck into the middle lane and merged onto I-91. I had no clue where we were going, but I suddenly knew I could listen to him all day. Hearing him talk about history so confidently was kind of sexy. “History was my favorite,” he said.
“It sounds like it. What was the rich guy’s name?”
“Albert Mussey Johnson.”
“You’re like a walking textbook. Do you know other history, or just Nevada’s?”
“American history was always my favorite. It was one thing I never had to study. I just kind of absorbed it.”
“You could teach history, or write about it.”
When he pulled onto Tenaya Way and I saw a sign that said, Gilchrest Pumpkin Farm, five miles. “Are we going to the pumpkin farm?” He stayed silent. “Aha! I guessed it right!”
“Partly,” he said, “And, you only guessed it because there was a sign and there is nothing else out here.”
“True, but I have to say I’m a little creeped out by the fact the sign says they close at two p.m. Are you like one of those Halloween slasher guys and this was all an elaborate set-up?”
He grinned and winked at me. “We’ll see,” he said as he pulled the truck into an almost full, unpaved parking lot surrounded by bales of hay and strung with twinkling lights. After parking, he got out and a few seconds later, opened my door. He was holding the duffel bag.
“Are your slasher tools in there?”
He pet it and it actually did clink like there were tools in there. “Rope, duct tape, knives…everything any respectable slasher needs.” He startled me by putting his hands on my waist and lifting me down out of the truck. He sat me on my feet and took my hand, and in a scary voice, he said, “Let’s go get this Halloween massacre underway.”
We went past a small, wooden shack decorated with spider webs that had large, hairy, felt spiders crawling all over them. I cringed slightly at that. I don’t freak out over spiders, but the idea of a hairy one that was four feet in diameter gave me the chills. There was a line of people at the next little shack. We waited until Nick paid our entrance fees. The poster on the window said this was a haunted pumpkin maze.
As we walked away from the shack, I said, “Haunted pumpkin maze? Isn’t it supposed to be a corn maze or hay bales? How can you get lost in a pumpkin maze?”
Nick stopped walking and looked down at me with an evil grin. “You can’t get lost; that’s the whole point. The creatures will be following us and popping up out of nowhere…and there’s nowhere to hide.”
I was torn between being slightly nervous about that and overwhelmed by the emotions he was stirring up in me. I loved Halloween, scary movies, and haunted houses. I had casually mentioned my love of Halloween to him once. The fact that he remembered that and it was important enough for him to plan this was already more than any guy I’d ever been out with had done.
I reached up and put my hand on his face. He leaned down to kiss me and we kissed like no one was watching until we both had to come up for air. When we did, he only pulled his lips back slightly and I could feel the heat and vibrations as he said, “But don’t worry; I’ll protect you.”
I smiled. “We’ll see who protects who.”
********
After we got some hot chocolate and sugar cookies, we got onto a trailer filled with hay attached to a tractor for the hay ride. Nick propped himself up against the railing of the trailer with his long legs stretched out in front of him and I cuddled up next to him.
I decided quickly that I could skip the rest of the evening and do this all night. He smelled so good and for being hard as a rock all over, he made one hell of a comfortable pillow.
There were at least ten other people on the trailer with us, but it was easy to block them all out and pretend like it was just him and me until the tractor left the heavily lighted area and began to move slowly along a pitted dirt road underneath a thick umbrella of trees. The trees blocked out any small reflection of the moon and stars, and the only things not black were the reflectors obviously leading the tractor along the path and a scant few twinkling lights strung through the trees and dangling over our heads.
I was so relaxed and comfortable that for just a second, I closed my eyes. I tore them back open only moments later to the sounds of a blood-curdling scream. Some kind of creature had jumped up on the back of the trailer and was clinging on with one arm and swiping a fake knife at the people there with the other. Most of them moved toward us and I tightened my grip on Nick’s t-shirt. I felt his body shake, and I looked up at his handsome face silhouetted in the dim light. He was laughing.
“Careful, babe, or I might think you need me to protect you.”
“I’m not scared,” I countered. “The screaming just startled me.”
“Oh, okay. Look, it’s getting foggy.”
I turned and looked in the direction the tractor was taking us. Fog was rising up across the road and all around into the trees. It looked like there was a clearing about a hundred yards or so in front of us. It was surrounded by orange lights like the white ones in the trees overhead.
The tractor came to a stop and the man driving welcomed us to the, “Most haunted pumpkin patch in the world.” He went over the rules about following the guide, staying on the paths, and not touching the monsters before he turned us over to an actor dressed like a skeleton in a top hat and tails. He didn’t speak, but that made sense since he only had half a jaw. It was one hell of a make-up job.
He turned and led us toward what I could only assume was the pumpkin patch, but thanks to the darkness and thick fog, couldn’t really tell. I slid my hand into Nick’s big, warm one, and he threaded his fingers through mine.
We walked about five feet before the first scream erupted. It was a girl about four feet behind us. I turned and looked to see Michael Myers from Halloween walking along next to her. She was clutching onto her boyfriend, who also looked like he wanted to run. The actor playing Michael cocked his head to one side, as if he was confused.
It was my favorite of all the Michael Myers poses, and I was smiling when I felt something underneath my feet. I looked down and could just barely make out the outline of an arm reaching up out of the dirt. I screamed and jumped into Nick just as the body sat up, covered with dirt and looking like it had been buried for years. Decay spots were crafted on the face and long strings of white hair hung off of the head. I couldn’t see its eyes; they were small and dark.
Nic
k wrapped me up in his big arm as the thing reached out toward me. I buried my face in his chest and felt his lips brush against the top of my head as he whispered, “You don’t have to pretend to be afraid for my benefit, baby.” I punched him, and my fist bounced off his arm. He laughed.
The patch only got more terrifying from there. I screamed so much that my voice was hoarse and poor Nick actually had claw marks on one of his arms. When they offered pumpkin picking to us on the last leg of the scary tour I tried to refuse, but Nick seemed to have his heart set on it. At least they turned on the lights.
I followed Nick around and watched him survey every part of every pumpkin until he found two perfectly round ones with nice, thick stems. The tractor took us back to the main area and the fall-themed and well-lit festival came into view. A band was playing now on a small bandstand next to six long rows of picnic tables. People surrounded the tables and were carving their pumpkins. If I didn’t know already, I was about to find out how competitive Nick was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
NICK
I had been here before…more than once. You’re allowed to bring one weapon of choice and choose from their arsenal at will. Karli and I found a spot at the table and she sat her pumpkin about half a foot away from mine. I smiled at her. She smiled back. She’s so pretty. I picked up my pumpkin and moved it over about two feet and then sat my duffel bag in between them.
“Really?” she said with a laugh.
“Sorry, babe, I need room.” She rolled her eyes at me and shook her head. “When you see what I can do with it, you’ll be amazed.”
“I’m sure I will.”
We listened to the staff in charge of the contest go over the rules. While one of them did that, another sat the carving utensils out on the table and another lay stencils in two piles on each one. I snorted. “Kindergarten tools.”
Karli laughed. “Wow, this is heavy stuff for you, huh?”
“I’m going to win this year,” I told her with a wink. I unzipped the canvas bag just far enough for her to look inside.
“A drill?”
I smiled. “Not just any drill. This baby is an 18-volt cordless, and I have twenty different bits for it.”
She laughed aloud. “Really? You’re going to carve a pumpkin with a drill?” Before I could respond, the staff announced that we could begin. I reached in the bag and pulled out the heavy drill. As I looked around, I noticed it was just as I’d thought: none of the women looked impressed…at least by the drill, but most of the men were practically salivating over it.
“Really,” I told her. “Look at their faces. This contest is 50% skill and the other 50% is all in your head. This baby just intimidated the hell out of half my competition.”
“Oh my God, you’re killing me,” she said as she reached for a knife. I watched her shove it into the pumpkin and a little voice in the back of my head told me that I’d better hide all the knives if I ever really piss her off.
“Just stay over there on your side, babe. There’s nothing like the awesome power of a steel rod.” She threw her head back and laughed at that. “Get your mind out of the gutter and back on your pumpkin or you’ll be left in the dust.”
I pulled a pair of goggles out of my bag and put them on before firing up the impressive tool. I got a few more looks as I held it up like a gun. Karli was laughing so hard that she had tears running down her cheeks.
I turned my back to her and plunged the tool down into the top of my pumpkin. I cut a circle around the top and pulled it off. Scooping it out was my least favorite job and as I sat my tool down and started to lower my hands into the slimy insides, I felt my face draw up in disgust. I grabbed a handful of the guts. They felt like snot with seeds and as I pulled them out, I actually wretched a little bit. I thought I’d hidden it well until I felt Karli bump me with her hip.
“Step aside, big guy, it looks like you need help.” I took a step to the left and watched in morbid fascination as she picked up a spoon in one hand and the pumpkin in the other and began furiously scraping. She didn’t seem to mind the slimier guts clinging to the back of her hand and squishing through her fingers. She tipped the pumpkin almost all the way over above the newspaper that covered the table. A pile of pumpkin guts appeared and Karli left them there and used the spoon to scrape even more. By the time she was finished, the walls of my pumpkin were completely smooth
“Thanks, babe. If you want, I can help you carve yours when I’m finished here.”
“I’ll let you know if I need help,” she told me with a wink as I reached across her for the black marker the staff left there with the carving tools.
I carefully drew myself a pattern and then started cutting. I worked steadily until I heard the sound of the whistle that signified putting your tools down. I stood up and tried to work the stiffness out of my neck and shoulders and then I looked over at Karli. She was looking at my pumpkin with a smile on her face.
“I have to admit, I thought you were crazy for using a drill, but that looks fantastic.”
“Right?”
She laughed. “You’re welcome.”
“Sorry, thank you. But look at it! Have you ever seen a more perfect spider?” I’d carved out an intricate design that signified a spider’s web and then, just off to the side, crawling toward the center of it, a gigantic spider.
“Never,” she said. “What do you think of mine?”
Karli’s was a rose, or some kind of flower. It was off-center and there was one spot that looked like it was supposed to be a rose petal, but had broken off and fallen inside. It was cute, and she looked proud of it. “I think it’s almost as pretty as you.”
“Almost?” I leaned over and kissed her on those sexy, soft lips.
“Yeah, almost. Nothing else even comes close.”
“Okay, ladies and gents, it’s time to judge these pumpkins!” I held onto Karli’s hand and watched as the judges walked table to table and wrote something down on the little pad they carried as they looked at each pumpkin. When they got to mine, I smiled and automatically tightened the muscles in my chest and arms.
I felt Karli poke me. She leaned in close and said,
“Stop trying to cheat; they’re judging the pumpkins, not the hot bodies.”
I smiled at her and looked around at the other people in the contest and then I whispered, “If they were, who would win?”
She picked up a towel, wiped her hands on it, and then hooked her arm through mine as she said, “Tricky Nicky Storelli, hands down.”
********
I won the pumpkin contest and I got to leave with the most beautiful woman there. I felt like one lucky son of a bitch.
On the way back to my house, we picked up Chinese food and I saw Karli send a text to her dad. I hoped that she was telling him she wouldn’t be home tonight because ever since she left my bed on Monday morning, I’d been craving her like a drug.
As soon as we walked into the kitchen from the garage, I saw the note from Kevin written on the chalkboard and my mood and the entire evening started to unravel. Karli looked at the chalkboard and said,
“Aw, he left you a note.” It said, “Hey, Bro, spending time with Elaine tonight. Didn’t want you to worry.” There was a smiley face then and underneath that it said, “Your dad came by.”
I didn’t know if it was Kevin thinking I would worry about him or my father coming by that set me off. I wasn’t Kevin’s fucking guardian and the idea of it made me feel like I was having a hard time breathing. My whole life, I had only me to worry about and suddenly, I was a guardian and a boyfriend. I was not sure why that was just now setting in and why it felt so suffocating all of a sudden. Wasn’t this what I wanted? Wasn’t this all about changing my life? Maybe it was just too many changes all at once.
“Nick? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Am I fine?
Karli looked like she was about to say something else, but her phone started ringing. It was the theme to Rocky.
&nb
sp; “Shit. It’s my dad. If I don’t answer, he’ll just keep calling. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, take it.” She started to walk toward the dining room and I said, “Hey, Karli, what’s my ring tone?”
“Eye of the Tiger” was still playing loudly, and she looked at her phone nervously before saying, “Peter Pan.” She put the phone to her ear then and went into the dining room. I heard her say, “Hi, Dad, what’s up?”
Theme songs were part of my life. Martin taught me years ago that you should take a lot of time picking out your song. Not only the beat should matter, but the words should represent your personality.
Karli obviously looked up to her dad. He was her hero, so “Eye of the Tiger” was fitting. I wondered how much thought she had put into mine. My father used to call me Peter Pan. He always told me I’d never grow up. I hated that song the first time I heard it because of that. I walked over near the dining room and heard her saying,
“I’m twenty-two years old, Dad. You can’t keep telling me what to do and who I’m allowed to do it with.” Obviously, he wasn’t buying that she was spending all of this time at Michaela’s house.
“What? Are you kidding? Did you really just say that?” She had her back to me, but I could visibly see her whole body tense.
“You can’t honestly believe I pick my men with the sole purpose of pissing you off in mind. That’s a bit narcissistic, Dad, even for you.” She took the phone away from her ear and pressed the end button, hard.
Her shoulders slouched forward. I tried to quiet the selfish thoughts in my own head and did what a real man was expected to do. I went over and put my hands on her shoulders. She leaned back into me, and I wrapped my arms around her stomach and held her close.
“He’s such an asshole sometimes. I can’t get him to even acknowledge Kevin, and yet he’s all over my life.”