Subject: SUB: CONTEST: All Hallow's Eve Date: Tue, 1 Oct 96 10:29:23 MDT From: "Robyn Meta Herrington" Submitted for your ghoulish delight. . . Critiques to ME: rmherrin@acs.ucalgary.ca They will be passed along to the author. --------------------------------------------------------------- All Hallow's Eve Jennie took the string with the key from around her neck, and opened the front door. She crossed the cheerless living-room to the small square hall beyond, and into her bedroom. Throwing her fifth grade books on the foot of the bed, she fished a battered paperback book from under her mattress. "Protective Magical Spells" proclaimed the lurid cover. Jennie clasped the book to her narrow chest as she walked into the livingroom and turned on the floor radiator. On a cushion near the vent, she opened the book to a brightly colored bookmark. A car door slamming and Mike's rough voice laughing brought Jennie to her feet. Hastily, she slipped the bookmark between the pages, and ran into her room, slamming the door. The book hidden, Jennie sat on the window-seat and thought hard, 'You don't want to come in here. Nobody is here.' The front door opened and shut. Mike's heavy tread reverberated through the hardwood floors. Without stopping, he went into the bedroom he shared with Jennie's mother. Jennie heaved a relieved sigh, hugging herself. As the heating vent over the door warmed her room, Jennie removed the jacket, leaving on her thin sweater. Her stomach rumbled. Jennie stared at the door, straining to hear Mike. Not a creak sounded. At another insistent gastric rumble, Jennie rose from the window-seat. Easing the door open she creeped toward the living-room, her attention focused on the master bedroom's closed door. Mike leaped from the bathroom door. Jennie screamed as he grabbed her arm. Mike laughed, yanking her into the living-room, where he lifted Jennie's struggling body into his arms. Helpless, Jennie tightly clamped her mouth shut as Mike tried to force her lips open with his tongue. Jennie struggled as one hand slid down her clothes and under her skirt. Jennie opened her teeth enough to bite Mike's tongue. He jerked back with a yelp. She kicked hard, breaking away to run across the living-room to the door beside the fireplace. Fleeing down two steps into the den, she ran through the back door into the rear yard. A cursing Mike followed. Jennie jumped for the large oak's lowest branch outside her bedroom window, and scrambled into its thick multi-hued leafy shelter. Mike hurtled out the back door, slamming it behind him. He checked the double car garage off the narrow alley, and the alley itself, then returned to the yard. The cold October wind sliced through Jennie's thin sweater as she huddled against the ancient oak. Her eyes squeezed shut, Jennie concentrated her thoughts. 'I'm not here. I'm not here.' She focused on the magic formula while trying to keep her body relaxed, while Mike prowled underneath. Around her the dying leaves whispered, "Here she is, up here, up here." Jennie's heart joined the betrayal with a rapid drumbeat pounding in her ears. Her mother's old Dodge, rumbling like an asthmatic dragon, pulled into the alley driveway. The car sputtered, shook itself, gave a choking cough, and died. Jennie's body shuddered with the same intensity from relief, as she heard Milk walk to the west side of the house, slamming the kitchen door behind him. The magic worked one more time. He never looked up. Jennie shuddered rembering Mike's frequent warning that he'd kill her if she told anyone that he liked to hurt her. Hearing her mother greet Mike, and the kitchen door shut again, Jennie opened her eyes. She leaned her head against the old tree's rough comfort. 'Not that telling would do any good', she thought. Hot tears blurred her vision. 'Given a choice between her bastard daughter and her dream man, Mom would never believe me.' Still trembling, Jennie climbed down and opened her bedroom window. "Jennie!" Tentively, Jennie opened her door to the small square hall. "Yes, Mama?" Mike looked surprised to see her. Jennie's mother held out a paper bag. "Here's your Halloween costume. It's a hobo costume. An old woman at work gave it to me." She turned to Mike. "I don't know how she knew I have a daughter. Don't even remember seeing her before. With her kids and grandchildren leaving the state, she's moving into an apartment and has a lot of handmade costumes and other stuff to unload." "Thank you," Jennie said taking the bag. "Huh? Oh, you're welcome." # After dinner Jennie sat on the padded window-seat, the oddly comforting costume clutched against her, and gazed into the night's inky blackness. A lone star appeared above the distant western hills and winked at her. Jennie closed her eyes, took a deep breath, counted to three and let the breath ease out three times. She opened her eyes to stare at the lone star. "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight." Closing her eyes, Jennie concentrated on her nightly prayer. 'Please, somebody, please help me.' The wind rushing through the trees, echoed a warped world's emptiness that turned deaf ears to helpless pleas. The lone star momentarily blazed brighter before sinking below the hills. High in the sky another star burst into brightness. Jennie sighed, set down her costume, and rose to climb into bed. Covers pulled over her ears, she heard voices murmur and sudden raucous laughter through the thin walls. Moonlight drifted into the room to alight on the window-seat. The hobo costume reflected ghostly moon-glow. The soft luster spread through the room to drift over Jennie's restless form. Gradually, her body unfolded and a peaceful smile covered her face. # At nine o'clock the next day, the student body trooped into the brightly decorated auditorium. When the fifth grade entered, Jennie found the room populated with fairy godmothers, clowns, and pirates. Marching in a big circle tired and bored Jennie. Finally, the signal came for everyone to sit. Jennie flopped onto the floor. One by one the winners made their appearance on stage. "And now," said Mr. Haines, the principal, "we have our last winner. The winner, first place -- boy's division is . . . the tramp. Jennie looked around but no boy stood up. A teacher came over to Jennie smiling, and held out her hand. Stunned, Jennie followed the teacher's lead to center stage. Mr. Haines grandly presented Jennie a fifty-cent-piece. When the winners removed their masks Mr. Haines looked at Jennie with a shocked expression. The crowd burst into laughter. # Walking home, Jennie saw a grandmother-like woman sitting on an apartment building's dilapidated steps. A tray filled with weird necklaces lay on the old woman's lap. Against the woman's ample chest perched a sign, "AMULETS FOR SALE". "Hello Jennie," said the crone. "Hello. Ah, I'm sorry, do I know you?" "No, Dear. But I know you. My name is Andraste." Jennie looked blankly at the old woman. Andraste shook her head with a wry smile. "So much for a modern education. Jennie, you are trying to learn magic. To some extent you have succeeded. You called for help. Your mother got the hobo costume from me." Jennie looked at the old woman, "Are you my fairy godmother?" Andraste smiled. "No. But I can rent you a little protective magic." She lifted a silver chain from which a silver snake, the size of Jennie's little finger, hung. As Andraste dangled the necklace, the snake sparkled in the sunshine. Jennie stared as if she could never look away. "This is a powerful amulet," said Andraste. "Invoke the powers it holds when you are threatened, and your attacker will be destroyed. But, it won't do anything unless you say my name, Andraste. "It's beautiful," Jennie said wistfully as she touched the silver snake with a finger tip. "But, it must cost gobs of money." "The fifty cents you won today will rent it." Feeling as if in a dream, Jennie handed over her winnings. Andraste, rising with surprising agility in such an ancient lady, lay her tray on the steps. "Turn around, Dear. I'll fasten it around your neck. Be sure to tuck the amulet from sight until you need it, and don't forget the trigger word." Jennie obediently put the tiny snake under her shirt. She turned. But, how do I return?" The old woman had disappeared. # Jennie returned home late that evening from trick-or-treating with her friends. Mike sat alone watching the new nine-inch television screen. Going into the back hall, Jennie took a quick look through the open door into her mother's dark, empty bedroom. Quietly, Jennie entered her own room and shut the door. The wind, risen in the last half hour, rattled the windows, throwing leaves and sand in frustration at being kept out. The old oak whispered with the moonlight. Light and dark danced a morbid waltz on Jennie's walls. Turning on the light, Jennie threw the candy filled bag onto the bed, and jerked the drapes shut. With frequent nervous looks at her door, Jennie soon changed from her costume to nightgown and bathrobe. She folded the hobo costume, and lay it on the window-seat's edge. Turning to her candy strewn bed, Jennie saw her door knob slowly turning. Mike stood leering in the doorway. He shut the door, and leaned against it. "Your grandmother phoned. Your grandfather died yesterday from a stroke. Your grandmother wants to mend the family rift your birth caused. Your mother will be gone at least two weeks. I convinced her a funeral is no place for a child. You've been left in my care." He walked slowly toward Jennie laughing sloftly. She backed up until she bumped into her dresser. "Of course," he said, "we won't be here when she returns." Mike cupped Jennie's face in a large, callused hand. "I know you'll be a good girl and do everything I say. Won't you?" Jennie cried in pain as Mike tightened his grip on her jaw. "Say yes, Jennie. Say yes, and show me you want to please me. You know how." Jennie jerked away, sobbing, and tried to run from the room. Mike laughed as he grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. She fell at his feet. "You're being a bad girl, Jennie. I'll have to punish you. I'll have to lock you in the closet until you're willing to be good. Until you beg to please me." Jennie screamed as Mike dragged her by her hair toward the small closet. With one hand trying to lessen the pull on her head, Jennie grasped the amulet through her nightgown. Struggling against Mike's unstoppable pull, she clutched the amulet and whispered, "Please, help me." Mike laughed. "There's no one to help you, little bastard. There's no one who gives a damn about. . . ." "Andraste!" cried Jennie holding up the snake charm. Mike froze. Jennie's hair dropped from his suddenly nerveless hands. Holding her hands to her aching head, Jennie scrambled away. She braced against her bed and turned to see Mike staring with a horrified, disbelieving expression at the hobo costume as it rose from the window-seat. The costume raised an empty arm and pointed at Mike. Mike bumped against the bedroom door, his face gray and covered with a wet sheen. With a low, hollow growl, the hobo costume jerked forward. "No!" Mike yelled. "No, leave me alone!" He turned, threw the door open, and bolted into the hall. The door slammed behind him. The hobo costume pointed at the door. The door opened. The costume floated into the hallway. A shrill scream echoed throughout the house. A bright orange light flashed. The scream, like a speeding train's whistle red-shifted into silence. The house held its breath in deathly stillness. Even the wind no longer blew. Jennie gathered her courage and went to the bedroom door. She checked the three other doors from the tiny square hall. The bathroom, master bedroom, and living-room lay empty. Crossing to beside the fireplace she checked the den. Recrossing the living-room Jennie looked into the dining-room, and kitchen. The house, locked from the inside, stood empty of anyone but Jennie herself. Back in her bedroom, Jennie found the hobo costume neatly folded on the window-seat's edge. She reached to touch her amulet. It was gone, chain and all. Jennie drew back the drapes. High in the sky, one star shone brighter than all the others. "Thank you, Andraste," Jennie whispered. The star winked, then disappeared. -- -------+++++++-------+++++++ +++++++-------+++++++------- Robyn Herrington Operations Manager, Microforms Services University of Calgary, MacKimmie Library Ph: (403)220-6903 http://www.ucalgary.ca/~rmherrin rmherrin@acs.ucalgary.ca -------+++++++-------+++++++--------------+++++++-------+++++++-------