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Plus, I already know too much about their sex life as it is.
Again I run my fingers along the mask, and pull the tail with its small, black metal pin out of the bag before letting the plastic fall to the floor of the back seat with a soft rustle. It’s black, mostly, but with little bits of dark-red, sparkling tinsel mixed in with the fur to give it the same kind of shine as the mask. That alone is the reason I don’t refuse, though I keep it in my lap along with the mask as we drive.
“So, where are we going?” I think to ask finally, as I settle against the window. Halloween decorations are on full display as we drive closer to the middle of town, and I can’t help the small smile on my lips that twitches into place when we pass the houses well known for their Halloween decorations. One has an elaborate cemetery in the front, with all the headstones hand painted by the guy that’s somehow related to the mayor, from what I’ve heard. Skeletons tumble and dance in the billowing fog and lights placed behind fake stones; one of them is even playing an orange, blow-up saxophone for the ‘party’ of dead people.
Other houses near the center of town are lit up with lights and inflatables, though only a few are full on, blazing bonfires of light and sound and activity. It’ll be like this until after Halloween, and while I rationally know that most other places aren’t as obsessed with the holiday as we are, I still can’t accept any other way of doing things.
Before I can mention the cemetery, my eyes fall on a papier mâché tree that winds upward through a sloping yard, some of the ‘branches’ resting on top of the house. It’s…crafty, to say the least. Though, there’s not much to be scared of with the tree and the fog at its roots.
Except for the dead woman that swings in the breeze that sweeps through Hollow Bridge.
Nolan slows and comes to a stop at a red light, in fierce conversation with Nic about their plans for tomorrow. I’ve kept an ear on the conversation, knowing they’re always nice enough to remember I like being with them, but not usually in the middle of conversation.
Sometimes it’s just nice to be included at a distance. Especially when I’m not at my social best, which is considerablyworsethan other people’s social best.
Neither of them has stopped to really look at the tree, or the dead woman who’s supposed to be Agnes Brown swinging from the branch by a noose around her throat.
It’s been a while since anyone included her in their decorations. It’s just so…easy here to make her part of the scene. Though, I’ve never seen such a huge, life-size replica ofthetree that Agnes was hanged in.
Supposedly, anyway. But that’s the entire basis of our town’s folklore.Supposedly,Hollow Bridge was plagued by the witch, Agnes Brown, after her son had been killed in an accident.Supposedly,the townspeople had formed a mob and hunted Agnes down after Emily Riley, the daughter of the town’s mayor, got lured into the woods and eaten by Agnes and her familiars.
She’d been hunted down and killed by the people she’d tormented, and lain a curse on them to last all the days of Hollow Bridge’s existence. When they’d hanged her, however, Agnes had decided not to stay dead. She’d come back for one final stand and was slain again by the mayor’s son on the bridge that gave our town its name.
The bridge that, I’m sure, is dripping orange and purple lights right about now. The sign, labeling ittheHollow Bridge, is likely covered in cobwebs as well. Maybe this year, the family that owns the woods on the closest side of the bridge will go back to putting lights in the woods to look like eyes, just to scare and confuse anyone driving into town at night.
The car we’re in jolts forward as Nolan fumbles with the gearshift, and I nearly faceplant into the back of Nic’s seat as we rattle into motion once more.
It occurs to me I never found out where we were going, though if it was due to my inattention or by my friends’ lack of answer, I have no idea. If I have to guess, I’m sure it’s the former. I’d gotten interested in something right after I’d asked, and that’s enough to make my ears forget their job half of the time.
Luckily, my question is answered before much longer. Nolan slows on a side street packed with cars, and my gaze falls on the house that’s more lit up than its neighbors, though the decorations are anything but thoughtfully put together. The residents of this house have just thrown everything and the kitchen sink into the yard, from blow-up witches to lights and fake pumpkins, instead of sticking with some kind of theme.
I can’t help but judge, since our yard is lit up quite nicely with orange lights, purple lights, and a light show that spins against the sloping roof of the house that faces the neighborhood for a few hours each night.
It takes Nolan a few minutes, but he finds a parking place that doesn’t require a hike and also isn’t in front of a hydrant. Nic is out first, predictably. She doesn’t love cars and is always the quickest to escape. Though she’s gotten better at looking like she’s moving deliberately, instead of flailing with all due haste to fall over herself onto the grass.
I stretch when I get out of the back, going up on my toes and then back down with a long sigh that comes from somewhere in my chest that’s had enough for today. I’m still drowsy, though the Halloween decorations and chilly air that pervades the sleeves of my dress are doing a damn good job of bringing me back to full wakefulness. If anything, I just need a few minutes out here, staring at the lights and trees, to get myself back on track.
Emily is dead, you know,my brain reminds me in a voice that sounds too much like Daisy’s to be coincidental. There’s no stab of guilt or shock, and certainly no sadness for the girl I hadn’t called a friend in years.
She’d never deserved my friendship, or Daisy’s. In fact, I wish we’d never met Emily and her brother in daycare so many, many years ago.
“Hey.” The word forcefully drags me out of my skull and I look up at Nic’s nose, my eyes halting there like there’s a barrier preventing them from going any higher. The nose and mouth are my visual comfort zones, especially when I’m feeling less than sure of things. Like tonight. “You okay?” Nic asks, worry in every inch of the curve of her mouth and every note of her voice. “If you’re not, we can go do something else. We can go back to your place and watch movies, or go feed some feral cat colony no one knows about except you.”
“That would ruin it then, don’t you think?” I ask in a slow voice, a small grin curving my lips upward. “If I take you to the feral cat colonies that only I know about, then I’m not special anymore andanyonecan go hang out there.” I’m joking, mostly because I’m not the only one who feeds the cats that live in some of the less-than-nice areas around town and are consistently too-thin.
My parents have banned me from bringing animals home with me after I’d brought home the third cat that does more lurking and hiding than socializing. So, feeding them has become more of a hobby than it used to be, since I worry about their health when I’m not there spooning wet cat food into their bowls.
Nic smiles at my joke, though I know it wasn’t a very good one. “Want me to clip that tail to your ass?” she asks, just as Nolan locks the car.
He looks up, his thick brows disappearing under the tumble of bangs that obscure his forehead. “Don’t do it. Last time she used that on me, I ended up naked.”
“You end up naked a lot,” I remind him, turning and handing her the tail. “Don’t act like you don’t love her spontaneous sexxing ways.”
He looks around, as if he’s contemplating my accusation, then nods once. “Okay, yeah, I can’t exactly argue, butstill.”
“Plus, I’m not the one she wants to peg,” I add, just as sweetly. “So I think my ass is safe, don’t you?”
“Shh,” Nic teasingly smacks my arm when she’s done. “Don’t tell him that. You’ll spook him.”
