She's Not There... She's Over Here
October 10
At some point in the night, a storm blew in from the north, coming down out of the mountains and bringing with it wet, icy cold air and a layer of low-lying gray clouds that blanketed the area with a boxed-in, claustrophobic feel. It was a not entirely welcome reminder that winter was approaching, with its shorter days and freezing weather.
The dismal morning gave way to an equally dismal afternoon, and by the time the last bell rang at Sleepyside High School, most students had made plans to spend their Friday night pursuing various forms of entertainment that kept them indoors as much as possible - from attending movies at the Cameo to an impromptu gathering of the chess club at the home of that worthy organization’s vice president.
Honey met Trixie at her locker, carrying a large duffel bag along with her backpack.
Trixie shot her friend a questioning look. “I thought you had cheerleading practice?”
“It was cancelled. Di and Jeannie Morris are meeting with some people downtown about a canned food drive. Since the ghost walks are free, the idea is to ask participants to donate food for the soup kitchen as a form of thanks. So, anyway, that’s good, because it solved our transportation issues. Instead of having Mart drive you and Dan out to Lisgard House and then come back to town to go to the police station, he can just go straight there.” She hefted her bag and nodded toward the restrooms at the end of the hall. “I want to change, first. I brought some old clothes I won’t worry about if they get dirty or stained.”
“Yeah? And here I thought you didn’t even own any old clothes. I’ve seen your closet, Hon. Where do you keep the old stuff? Tucked away in your attic?”
“Close,” Honey replied with a chuckle. “In a closet in one of the spare rooms. And in my defense? I only have so many outfits because Mother thinks the best way for us to ‘connect’ is through regular retail therapy excursions.”
“I know. I was only teasing you. I’ll wait here for Dan while you change. Sadly, what I wear to school is perfectly suitable for also prowling around an abandoned, dirt and grime filled estate.”
Trixie shut her locker and leaned up against it, watching students as they passed, catching bits of conversations that ranged from whether or not the Stallions stood a chance against the East Side Eagles, to gossip involving rumors that three sophomore students were suspended for selling prescription drugs, to various phony and often humorous ‘ghost sightings.’
“Hey, Freckles.”
She grinned at Dan as he ambled up. “Hey, yourself.”
“So… uh… I was thinking…”
Trixie regarded him expectantly. He frowned and ran his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture she didn’t often associate with him. His eyes traveled the hall, as if he were seeking someone or something else to focus on, to keep from meeting her curious gaze. “Yeah?” she prompted.
“Would you like to go to the Homecoming dance with me?”
The words came out in such a rush, it took Trixie a moment to break them down and interpret their meaning. “Like… as a date?” she asked uncertainly.
Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. Like a date.”
He was watching her now, his expression a carefully blank mask, and Trixie realized he was actually bracing himself for her rejection. “Okay. Sure. That would be fun.”
“Really?” He was unable to keep his surprise from showing. “I mean, no. I mean… yeah. Yeah. I mean, I think it would be fun, too.” He stopped, drew in a breath and shook his head. “Somebody shoot me now before I get any lamer.”
Laughing, Trixie held up one hand, palm out. “Dan, stop. Seriously. I would love to go to the dance with you. This? Is definitely one of your better ideas.”
“Did we get some good news for once?” Mart asked as he approached, looking back and forth between his sister and best friend, taking in their wide smiles.
“I guess that depends on how you interpret ‘good news,’” Dan replied, fighting the urge to wince. She’d said "yes." He wanted nothing more than to jump up and down and cheer like Di before a football game, feeling a lot like a kid at Christmas who’d found that Santa had come through with every item on his list. He wasn’t going to apologize now, no matter how Mart reacted to the notion of him taking Trixie out on a date.
“Dan asked me to the Homecoming dance, and yes, I accepted,” Trixie said evenly. There was an unspoken challenge in the look she gave him, daring him to object and warning him that she wouldn’t take kindly to it if he did.
Mart merely rolled his eyes and shoved his friend lightly in the arm. “Dude. Took you long enough. I was beginning to think you were never gonna man up and ask her out. It’s been months since she turned sixteen and got the requisite parental permission to date. But just remember, I know where you live…”
Dan found himself at a complete loss for words. He nodded, for lack of any other response, and was struck by the thought that Mart had managed to surprise him almost as much as the revelation that ghosts and witches were not merely fairy tale characters, but did, in fact, exist.
“Hello! Can you help me?”
“With what?” Trixie asked without thinking. She cringed and turned to the speaker. “Please tell me it’s something quick and easy… “ She trailed off as she took in the bizarre site that greeted her. “Who or what are you supposed to be?” she demanded, dumbfounded.
“I’m a Brussel sprout, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Mart murmured faintly. “Love the tights, man.”
“Look. Could you just point me in the right direction? I got turned around somehow. I’m part of the Eat Your Veggies! play for the food and nutrition fair. I need to get to the auditorium.”
“Uh… are you sure you’re not supposed to be over at the grade school?” Trixie suggested. “That sounds more like something they’d have over there.”
“This isn’t Mundy Elementary?”
“Do we look like fifth graders to you?” Dan scoffed, scowling at the costumed spirit. “You need to go down the street four more blocks. The school’s on the left.”
“Oh! Right. Thanks.” He was gone almost before he finished speaking.
“Well,” Trixie said after a slight pause, “at least that really was quick and easy.”
“A Brussel sprout,” Mart said with a snicker. “Every time I think they can’t get any stranger…”
“Yeah. You should probably not even say that out loud, Bro. Seems like that’s just daring the spirit world to send us something really crazy.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Professor Lee opened his satchel and took out a tied bundle of dried floral stems. He waved it around in the air and then placed it on the cloth in front of him.
“What does that do?” Trixie asked him, arching one brow and regarding him skeptically.
“Ah, well, according to some lore, lavender serves as a powerful protection against evil. During the height of the Black Death plagues, it was also thought to prevent - or at least deter - the spread of the disease. Interestingly, it may well have done so, for natural rather than supernatural reasons. Lavender is known to be a flea repellent.”
“Uh… huh. You did say you teach math, not history, right?”
The professor grinned ruefully. “Yes. My degrees are in mathematics, but, as I’ve said, I’ve studied the mystical extensively. In any case, I have no idea if the lavender actually will do anything at all for us, but at this point, I’m operating under the thought that if it can’t actively hurt us, it’s worth giving it a try.”
“Oh! I forgot! Speaking of trying things…!” Trixie exclaimed, reaching for her backpack. “We made you a talisman, too.”
He accepted the necklace and held it, studying the pendant and crystal that hung from a small hoop on the long, silver chain. “Thank you,” he said gravely. “This means… more to me than I would guess you know.”
“Trixie?” Honey called from across the room. “I’ve checked every book on this shelf. There’s nothing here that I think could possibly be a spell book. It’s just a bunch of ledgers, making notes of household purchases and expenditures.”
“Oh?” The professor looked up from his bag, gazing at her thoughtfully. “How far back do the accounts go? Perhaps we could find something interesting or informative in the items purchased?”
“Or perhaps it could all be deadly dull on every level?” Trixie countered. “Like - ordered, one pound sugar, one pound butter…”
“Ah, yes. That’s probably true,” Professor Lee conceded almost sheepishly. “I don’t suppose we’d really benefit from knowing how much tooth powder the former residents of Lisgard House consumed. Plus, I imagine those records are newer than anything we’d really need.”
“Check this out,” Dan said stepping back into the library from Sarah’s workshop. “This is cool.”
Trixie crossed to him and held out her hand.
“I dunno, Freckles,” he said with a crooked grin. “Maybe you shouldn’t touch it?”
“It’s a dog made out of a rock. What possible power could it have?”
“I think it’s a wolf, for one thing. And with you? Who knows? Maybe you’ll touch it and unleash a pack of rampaging werewolves on us."
She glanced over her shoulder at the professor. “Are there such things as werewolves?” she asked. “And what about vampires? I mean, at this point? I’m prepared to accept just about anything.”
“If you’re gonna tell us that Twilight was based on a true story, I may have to kill myself,” Dan said flatly. “So please don’t.”
The professor smiled briefly at his words. “There are known physical conditions that manifest themselves in a manner that are likely the basis for both the vampire and werewolf legends. I would imagine it was mostly superstitious fear that created the monsters we know them as today.”
“Wow. He’s like Mart. Fifteen years into the future,” Trixie muttered. “Did that even answer my question?”
“Ah… I can’t say for certain, but I think it’s probable that, no, we won’t be encountering any vampires or werewolves any time soon. Or ever.”
“Thank goodness!” Honey said with feeling. “There’s only so much of this I can handle.”
Trixie plucked the carved stone from Dan’s hand. “Okay, Professor, so what’s this little dog… er, wolf for? Is it like some kind of animal totem?”
“It may very well be. Animal totems are believed to be both guides and protectors, allowing a person to connect with his environment and progress on his spiritual journey, in ways that specifically employ characteristics of that particular animal.”
“See?” Dan said with a smug grin. “I told you it was cool.”
“Of course, then again,” the professor continued, “it could simply be a rather nice paper weight.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mart shoved his hands into his pockets and wondered how much longer it would be before he was granted permission to leave. He was cold and tired and the light drizzle that had fallen steadily all afternoon had slowly soaked into his clothing and shoes. He reminded himself again that it was Friday. At least if he came down with a raging case of pneumonia, he had two whole days to recover before school the following Monday.
He watched as Officer Green used bright yellow tape to cordon off the area and Sergeant Molinson knelt down to inspect the body. “He’s going to be difficult to identify,” Molinson grumbled. “Between the decomposition and the animal and insect activity.”
“Shouldn’t someone have reported him missing?” Mart asked. Like a sister, maybe.
“We don’t know anything about him. He could be local or not. He could be an official missing person, or a homeless man no one has bothered to report. We don’t know what he was doing out here or how he died.” The police sergeant turned to regard Mart with narrowed eyes. “Unless there’s something more you’d like to tell us? Something perhaps involving your sister and her friend?”
“No, sir,” Mart said blandly. “Like I told you. I was out looking for certain plant specimens when I came across him. I have no idea who he is.”
“Humph.”
Although he said nothing more as he refocused his attention on the body, Mart got the distinct impression Sergeant Molinson didn’t believe him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“… so herb lore became the basis for much of what we know in terms of our modern medicine. Many of our drugs are based on plant equivalents or even derived from plants themselves. For instance, aspirin was created in the lab based on the chemical properties of willow bark. We have records of willow bark’s merits as far back as ancient Egypt and Greece, with both cultures documenting its usage in treating fever, inflammation, and pain. We discovered the value of these substances long before we understood the science behind them. Unfortunately, while some societies, such as those of many Native American tribes, honored the men and women who had the knowledge to use plants in treating human ailments, others came to view these people with suspicion. In some cases, this lead to accusations of witchcraft, such as with poor Sarah Sligo.”
“But if witches really did use herbs in lots of their spells,” Honey said slowly, “then technically, the accusations were true, right?”
Professor Lee nodded. “Apparently so. Although, I suspect more often than not, the accused were merely educated in the medicinal uses of various plants, not that they were genuine witches involved in spell casting.”
“Or warlocks,” Dan put in. “Witches or warlocks.”
“Well, yes… though, you should know, depending on whether we are referring to certain Wiccan sects or pagans in general, a warlock may simply be a male practitioner of the magical arts, or he may be a… uh, bad witch. One who broke away from the rules of his coven and engages in what is sometimes referred to as ‘black magic.’ So, in some cases, you’ll find men who are insulted by the warlock designation.”
“Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Geeze, kids. Where’d you dig this guy up?”
“Vernon!” Trixie exclaimed. “If you don’t quit popping in on us like this, I swear I will find a way to separate you from your head on a permanent basis!”
“He’s here?” Professor Lee asked, eyes lit with keen interest. “Vernon is visiting again?”
“Yeah. He’s back. I don’t know why he’s back, though. What do you want, Vernon?” Trixie regarded the ghost with a sour expression.
“We need to talk.”
“About? Is this about the poltergeists again? Because maybe you didn’t notice, but what you’ve interrupted here is us trying to determine what kinds of spells might help us with that.”
“Use Sarah’s book.”
“We only have her journal. It’s got some spells in it, but mostly it’s basic stuff. She had a second book, one she mentions in the journal, but we haven’t been able to find it.”
“It’s missing?”
“It’s definitely not in here or in her workshop. We’ve checked. Twice.”
Vernon’s expression turned thoughtful. “Huh. Maybe… I gotta go see someone. I’ll get back with you.”
He turned quickly toward the door. The sudden movement caused his head to roll sideways and drop to the floor. “Oh, hell,” he grumbled. “A little help, maybe?”
Dan held up both his hands. “Sorry, man, but Mart isn’t here right now.”
Trixie pushed herself up from her spot on the floor. “Hang on. I think I can do this… as much as the very thought of it makes my skin crawl.” Though her first few attempts were unsuccessful, she was finally able to lift Vernon’s head and place it into his hands. “Yeesh. Have you considered a staple gun?” she asked, only half-joking.
“Yeah. You’re really funny, little missy. A regular comedian.” Vernon reattached his head and shot her a withering look before fading from view.
Dan frowned thoughtfully as Trixie sat back down next to him. “Huh. You know… he never did actually tell us whatever it was that he originally came here to say.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mr. and Mrs. Belden hurried into the police station together. They found Mart sitting on a bench, huddled under a thin, gray blanket.
“Mart!” Helen cried when she saw him. “Why didn’t you call us earlier?” She sat down next to him and slipped her arm around his shoulders. “Oh, honey. What an awful thing to happen! Are you all right?”
“Moms. Dad. It’s okay. Finding a decomposing body in the woods was definitely not on my bucket list, but I’m fine. I really just want to go home. Sergeant Molinson wouldn’t let me go until he spoke to you guys, though. Something about releasing me into your custody.”
“What! Have you been accused of something?” Helen’s tone had risen considerably with her indignation. “He can’t possibly think you had something to do with this!”
“No! No. It’s not like that. It’s just that I’m still a minor, and I guess you need to sign off on the paperwork in the official report or something.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Peter said firmly. “And then we can take you home.”
“Uh, actually, I’ll have to follow you, Dad. I have Dan’s van. I… borrowed it this afternoon so I could go looking for some plants. For a project I’m doing in my science class.”
The look his father gave him, intense and searching, left Mart with the impression that, just like with Sergeant Molinson, Mr. Belden had serious doubts about the excuse Mart was offering.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Well, I don’t suppose we’ll know for sure until - or if - any angry spirit tries to test it, but hopefully the protection spell we performed has turned this house, or at the very least, this room, into a… er, safe haven for us,” Professor Lee said as he untied the bundle of lavender. “Each of you should take some of this. Put it in your bedrooms. Under your pillows if the scent doesn’t bother you too much. Meanwhile, may I suggest you consider a night off? Try to find some way to relax and regroup. It’s been a very long week. For all of you.”
“That’s the plan,” Trixie agreed. “Movie night at the farm. And then tomorrow, I guess we’ll come back out here and keep looking for Sarah’s grimoire? Start searching the other rooms in the house?” She looked to Dan for confirmation. He offered her a grim smile that held resignation rather than humor and nodded once.
“I’ll need to take care of some grading in the morning, but I could join you in the afternoon. That is… if you want my help.”
“Of course we do!” Honey assured him. “And honestly, I’d like to know more about… well, I suppose everything. I may not be able to cast the spells, but I could certainly gather all the ingredients and items we need. Maybe tomorrow you could give me a list?” She looked around and shuddered. “But, yes, let’s call it a night. It’s getting dark outside and I'd prefer not to be here once the sun fully sets. This place is creepy enough in the daytime.”
As the professor finished gathering his things with Honey’s help, Trixie wandered out of the library and into the foyer. Dan followed her, reaching out to take her hand in his. For several long moments, they simply stood in the somewhat oppressive silence that had settled over the house, until Dan finally spoke, his tone revealing his level of concern. “Freckles?”
“Yeah. I’m okay. No, really. I am. I promise. I think I’m even getting used to the whole idea that we really do see dead people. The professor was right, though. This has been a lon –“ she cut herself off with a sharp gasp. “Do you see…?”
“Yeah,” Dan replied tersely. “I see her.”
“See who?” Honey asked quietly, stepping up behind them. “Is there… there’s another ghost here?”
“Yeah.”
Honey peered into the dining room, even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to see anything more than the jumbled, dust-covered furniture.
“No,” Trixie murmured, nodding toward the dimly lit hallway that led to the back portion of the house. “She’s over there…”
The hazy figure wore a heavy black dress and a tall, pointed hat pushed back on her head. Her blond curls were unbound - long locks that almost reached her waist. As Dan and Trixie watched, she lifted one arm and pointed in their direction. Trixie felt goosebumps break out on her arms, and she was struck by a sudden chill that left her shivering.
“Beware…” the witch’s ghost whispered. “Beware!
At some point in the night, a storm blew in from the north, coming down out of the mountains and bringing with it wet, icy cold air and a layer of low-lying gray clouds that blanketed the area with a boxed-in, claustrophobic feel. It was a not entirely welcome reminder that winter was approaching, with its shorter days and freezing weather.
The dismal morning gave way to an equally dismal afternoon, and by the time the last bell rang at Sleepyside High School, most students had made plans to spend their Friday night pursuing various forms of entertainment that kept them indoors as much as possible - from attending movies at the Cameo to an impromptu gathering of the chess club at the home of that worthy organization’s vice president.
Honey met Trixie at her locker, carrying a large duffel bag along with her backpack.
Trixie shot her friend a questioning look. “I thought you had cheerleading practice?”
“It was cancelled. Di and Jeannie Morris are meeting with some people downtown about a canned food drive. Since the ghost walks are free, the idea is to ask participants to donate food for the soup kitchen as a form of thanks. So, anyway, that’s good, because it solved our transportation issues. Instead of having Mart drive you and Dan out to Lisgard House and then come back to town to go to the police station, he can just go straight there.” She hefted her bag and nodded toward the restrooms at the end of the hall. “I want to change, first. I brought some old clothes I won’t worry about if they get dirty or stained.”
“Yeah? And here I thought you didn’t even own any old clothes. I’ve seen your closet, Hon. Where do you keep the old stuff? Tucked away in your attic?”
“Close,” Honey replied with a chuckle. “In a closet in one of the spare rooms. And in my defense? I only have so many outfits because Mother thinks the best way for us to ‘connect’ is through regular retail therapy excursions.”
“I know. I was only teasing you. I’ll wait here for Dan while you change. Sadly, what I wear to school is perfectly suitable for also prowling around an abandoned, dirt and grime filled estate.”
Trixie shut her locker and leaned up against it, watching students as they passed, catching bits of conversations that ranged from whether or not the Stallions stood a chance against the East Side Eagles, to gossip involving rumors that three sophomore students were suspended for selling prescription drugs, to various phony and often humorous ‘ghost sightings.’
“Hey, Freckles.”
She grinned at Dan as he ambled up. “Hey, yourself.”
“So… uh… I was thinking…”
Trixie regarded him expectantly. He frowned and ran his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture she didn’t often associate with him. His eyes traveled the hall, as if he were seeking someone or something else to focus on, to keep from meeting her curious gaze. “Yeah?” she prompted.
“Would you like to go to the Homecoming dance with me?”
The words came out in such a rush, it took Trixie a moment to break them down and interpret their meaning. “Like… as a date?” she asked uncertainly.
Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. Like a date.”
He was watching her now, his expression a carefully blank mask, and Trixie realized he was actually bracing himself for her rejection. “Okay. Sure. That would be fun.”
“Really?” He was unable to keep his surprise from showing. “I mean, no. I mean… yeah. Yeah. I mean, I think it would be fun, too.” He stopped, drew in a breath and shook his head. “Somebody shoot me now before I get any lamer.”
Laughing, Trixie held up one hand, palm out. “Dan, stop. Seriously. I would love to go to the dance with you. This? Is definitely one of your better ideas.”
“Did we get some good news for once?” Mart asked as he approached, looking back and forth between his sister and best friend, taking in their wide smiles.
“I guess that depends on how you interpret ‘good news,’” Dan replied, fighting the urge to wince. She’d said "yes." He wanted nothing more than to jump up and down and cheer like Di before a football game, feeling a lot like a kid at Christmas who’d found that Santa had come through with every item on his list. He wasn’t going to apologize now, no matter how Mart reacted to the notion of him taking Trixie out on a date.
“Dan asked me to the Homecoming dance, and yes, I accepted,” Trixie said evenly. There was an unspoken challenge in the look she gave him, daring him to object and warning him that she wouldn’t take kindly to it if he did.
Mart merely rolled his eyes and shoved his friend lightly in the arm. “Dude. Took you long enough. I was beginning to think you were never gonna man up and ask her out. It’s been months since she turned sixteen and got the requisite parental permission to date. But just remember, I know where you live…”
Dan found himself at a complete loss for words. He nodded, for lack of any other response, and was struck by the thought that Mart had managed to surprise him almost as much as the revelation that ghosts and witches were not merely fairy tale characters, but did, in fact, exist.
“Hello! Can you help me?”
“With what?” Trixie asked without thinking. She cringed and turned to the speaker. “Please tell me it’s something quick and easy… “ She trailed off as she took in the bizarre site that greeted her. “Who or what are you supposed to be?” she demanded, dumbfounded.
“I’m a Brussel sprout, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Mart murmured faintly. “Love the tights, man.”
“Look. Could you just point me in the right direction? I got turned around somehow. I’m part of the Eat Your Veggies! play for the food and nutrition fair. I need to get to the auditorium.”
“Uh… are you sure you’re not supposed to be over at the grade school?” Trixie suggested. “That sounds more like something they’d have over there.”
“This isn’t Mundy Elementary?”
“Do we look like fifth graders to you?” Dan scoffed, scowling at the costumed spirit. “You need to go down the street four more blocks. The school’s on the left.”
“Oh! Right. Thanks.” He was gone almost before he finished speaking.
“Well,” Trixie said after a slight pause, “at least that really was quick and easy.”
“A Brussel sprout,” Mart said with a snicker. “Every time I think they can’t get any stranger…”
“Yeah. You should probably not even say that out loud, Bro. Seems like that’s just daring the spirit world to send us something really crazy.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Professor Lee opened his satchel and took out a tied bundle of dried floral stems. He waved it around in the air and then placed it on the cloth in front of him.
“What does that do?” Trixie asked him, arching one brow and regarding him skeptically.
“Ah, well, according to some lore, lavender serves as a powerful protection against evil. During the height of the Black Death plagues, it was also thought to prevent - or at least deter - the spread of the disease. Interestingly, it may well have done so, for natural rather than supernatural reasons. Lavender is known to be a flea repellent.”
“Uh… huh. You did say you teach math, not history, right?”
The professor grinned ruefully. “Yes. My degrees are in mathematics, but, as I’ve said, I’ve studied the mystical extensively. In any case, I have no idea if the lavender actually will do anything at all for us, but at this point, I’m operating under the thought that if it can’t actively hurt us, it’s worth giving it a try.”
“Oh! I forgot! Speaking of trying things…!” Trixie exclaimed, reaching for her backpack. “We made you a talisman, too.”
He accepted the necklace and held it, studying the pendant and crystal that hung from a small hoop on the long, silver chain. “Thank you,” he said gravely. “This means… more to me than I would guess you know.”
“Trixie?” Honey called from across the room. “I’ve checked every book on this shelf. There’s nothing here that I think could possibly be a spell book. It’s just a bunch of ledgers, making notes of household purchases and expenditures.”
“Oh?” The professor looked up from his bag, gazing at her thoughtfully. “How far back do the accounts go? Perhaps we could find something interesting or informative in the items purchased?”
“Or perhaps it could all be deadly dull on every level?” Trixie countered. “Like - ordered, one pound sugar, one pound butter…”
“Ah, yes. That’s probably true,” Professor Lee conceded almost sheepishly. “I don’t suppose we’d really benefit from knowing how much tooth powder the former residents of Lisgard House consumed. Plus, I imagine those records are newer than anything we’d really need.”
“Check this out,” Dan said stepping back into the library from Sarah’s workshop. “This is cool.”
Trixie crossed to him and held out her hand.
“I dunno, Freckles,” he said with a crooked grin. “Maybe you shouldn’t touch it?”
“It’s a dog made out of a rock. What possible power could it have?”
“I think it’s a wolf, for one thing. And with you? Who knows? Maybe you’ll touch it and unleash a pack of rampaging werewolves on us."
She glanced over her shoulder at the professor. “Are there such things as werewolves?” she asked. “And what about vampires? I mean, at this point? I’m prepared to accept just about anything.”
“If you’re gonna tell us that Twilight was based on a true story, I may have to kill myself,” Dan said flatly. “So please don’t.”
The professor smiled briefly at his words. “There are known physical conditions that manifest themselves in a manner that are likely the basis for both the vampire and werewolf legends. I would imagine it was mostly superstitious fear that created the monsters we know them as today.”
“Wow. He’s like Mart. Fifteen years into the future,” Trixie muttered. “Did that even answer my question?”
“Ah… I can’t say for certain, but I think it’s probable that, no, we won’t be encountering any vampires or werewolves any time soon. Or ever.”
“Thank goodness!” Honey said with feeling. “There’s only so much of this I can handle.”
Trixie plucked the carved stone from Dan’s hand. “Okay, Professor, so what’s this little dog… er, wolf for? Is it like some kind of animal totem?”
“It may very well be. Animal totems are believed to be both guides and protectors, allowing a person to connect with his environment and progress on his spiritual journey, in ways that specifically employ characteristics of that particular animal.”
“See?” Dan said with a smug grin. “I told you it was cool.”
“Of course, then again,” the professor continued, “it could simply be a rather nice paper weight.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mart shoved his hands into his pockets and wondered how much longer it would be before he was granted permission to leave. He was cold and tired and the light drizzle that had fallen steadily all afternoon had slowly soaked into his clothing and shoes. He reminded himself again that it was Friday. At least if he came down with a raging case of pneumonia, he had two whole days to recover before school the following Monday.
He watched as Officer Green used bright yellow tape to cordon off the area and Sergeant Molinson knelt down to inspect the body. “He’s going to be difficult to identify,” Molinson grumbled. “Between the decomposition and the animal and insect activity.”
“Shouldn’t someone have reported him missing?” Mart asked. Like a sister, maybe.
“We don’t know anything about him. He could be local or not. He could be an official missing person, or a homeless man no one has bothered to report. We don’t know what he was doing out here or how he died.” The police sergeant turned to regard Mart with narrowed eyes. “Unless there’s something more you’d like to tell us? Something perhaps involving your sister and her friend?”
“No, sir,” Mart said blandly. “Like I told you. I was out looking for certain plant specimens when I came across him. I have no idea who he is.”
“Humph.”
Although he said nothing more as he refocused his attention on the body, Mart got the distinct impression Sergeant Molinson didn’t believe him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“… so herb lore became the basis for much of what we know in terms of our modern medicine. Many of our drugs are based on plant equivalents or even derived from plants themselves. For instance, aspirin was created in the lab based on the chemical properties of willow bark. We have records of willow bark’s merits as far back as ancient Egypt and Greece, with both cultures documenting its usage in treating fever, inflammation, and pain. We discovered the value of these substances long before we understood the science behind them. Unfortunately, while some societies, such as those of many Native American tribes, honored the men and women who had the knowledge to use plants in treating human ailments, others came to view these people with suspicion. In some cases, this lead to accusations of witchcraft, such as with poor Sarah Sligo.”
“But if witches really did use herbs in lots of their spells,” Honey said slowly, “then technically, the accusations were true, right?”
Professor Lee nodded. “Apparently so. Although, I suspect more often than not, the accused were merely educated in the medicinal uses of various plants, not that they were genuine witches involved in spell casting.”
“Or warlocks,” Dan put in. “Witches or warlocks.”
“Well, yes… though, you should know, depending on whether we are referring to certain Wiccan sects or pagans in general, a warlock may simply be a male practitioner of the magical arts, or he may be a… uh, bad witch. One who broke away from the rules of his coven and engages in what is sometimes referred to as ‘black magic.’ So, in some cases, you’ll find men who are insulted by the warlock designation.”
“Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Geeze, kids. Where’d you dig this guy up?”
“Vernon!” Trixie exclaimed. “If you don’t quit popping in on us like this, I swear I will find a way to separate you from your head on a permanent basis!”
“He’s here?” Professor Lee asked, eyes lit with keen interest. “Vernon is visiting again?”
“Yeah. He’s back. I don’t know why he’s back, though. What do you want, Vernon?” Trixie regarded the ghost with a sour expression.
“We need to talk.”
“About? Is this about the poltergeists again? Because maybe you didn’t notice, but what you’ve interrupted here is us trying to determine what kinds of spells might help us with that.”
“Use Sarah’s book.”
“We only have her journal. It’s got some spells in it, but mostly it’s basic stuff. She had a second book, one she mentions in the journal, but we haven’t been able to find it.”
“It’s missing?”
“It’s definitely not in here or in her workshop. We’ve checked. Twice.”
Vernon’s expression turned thoughtful. “Huh. Maybe… I gotta go see someone. I’ll get back with you.”
He turned quickly toward the door. The sudden movement caused his head to roll sideways and drop to the floor. “Oh, hell,” he grumbled. “A little help, maybe?”
Dan held up both his hands. “Sorry, man, but Mart isn’t here right now.”
Trixie pushed herself up from her spot on the floor. “Hang on. I think I can do this… as much as the very thought of it makes my skin crawl.” Though her first few attempts were unsuccessful, she was finally able to lift Vernon’s head and place it into his hands. “Yeesh. Have you considered a staple gun?” she asked, only half-joking.
“Yeah. You’re really funny, little missy. A regular comedian.” Vernon reattached his head and shot her a withering look before fading from view.
Dan frowned thoughtfully as Trixie sat back down next to him. “Huh. You know… he never did actually tell us whatever it was that he originally came here to say.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mr. and Mrs. Belden hurried into the police station together. They found Mart sitting on a bench, huddled under a thin, gray blanket.
“Mart!” Helen cried when she saw him. “Why didn’t you call us earlier?” She sat down next to him and slipped her arm around his shoulders. “Oh, honey. What an awful thing to happen! Are you all right?”
“Moms. Dad. It’s okay. Finding a decomposing body in the woods was definitely not on my bucket list, but I’m fine. I really just want to go home. Sergeant Molinson wouldn’t let me go until he spoke to you guys, though. Something about releasing me into your custody.”
“What! Have you been accused of something?” Helen’s tone had risen considerably with her indignation. “He can’t possibly think you had something to do with this!”
“No! No. It’s not like that. It’s just that I’m still a minor, and I guess you need to sign off on the paperwork in the official report or something.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Peter said firmly. “And then we can take you home.”
“Uh, actually, I’ll have to follow you, Dad. I have Dan’s van. I… borrowed it this afternoon so I could go looking for some plants. For a project I’m doing in my science class.”
The look his father gave him, intense and searching, left Mart with the impression that, just like with Sergeant Molinson, Mr. Belden had serious doubts about the excuse Mart was offering.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Well, I don’t suppose we’ll know for sure until - or if - any angry spirit tries to test it, but hopefully the protection spell we performed has turned this house, or at the very least, this room, into a… er, safe haven for us,” Professor Lee said as he untied the bundle of lavender. “Each of you should take some of this. Put it in your bedrooms. Under your pillows if the scent doesn’t bother you too much. Meanwhile, may I suggest you consider a night off? Try to find some way to relax and regroup. It’s been a very long week. For all of you.”
“That’s the plan,” Trixie agreed. “Movie night at the farm. And then tomorrow, I guess we’ll come back out here and keep looking for Sarah’s grimoire? Start searching the other rooms in the house?” She looked to Dan for confirmation. He offered her a grim smile that held resignation rather than humor and nodded once.
“I’ll need to take care of some grading in the morning, but I could join you in the afternoon. That is… if you want my help.”
“Of course we do!” Honey assured him. “And honestly, I’d like to know more about… well, I suppose everything. I may not be able to cast the spells, but I could certainly gather all the ingredients and items we need. Maybe tomorrow you could give me a list?” She looked around and shuddered. “But, yes, let’s call it a night. It’s getting dark outside and I'd prefer not to be here once the sun fully sets. This place is creepy enough in the daytime.”
As the professor finished gathering his things with Honey’s help, Trixie wandered out of the library and into the foyer. Dan followed her, reaching out to take her hand in his. For several long moments, they simply stood in the somewhat oppressive silence that had settled over the house, until Dan finally spoke, his tone revealing his level of concern. “Freckles?”
“Yeah. I’m okay. No, really. I am. I promise. I think I’m even getting used to the whole idea that we really do see dead people. The professor was right, though. This has been a lon –“ she cut herself off with a sharp gasp. “Do you see…?”
“Yeah,” Dan replied tersely. “I see her.”
“See who?” Honey asked quietly, stepping up behind them. “Is there… there’s another ghost here?”
“Yeah.”
Honey peered into the dining room, even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to see anything more than the jumbled, dust-covered furniture.
“No,” Trixie murmured, nodding toward the dimly lit hallway that led to the back portion of the house. “She’s over there…”
The hazy figure wore a heavy black dress and a tall, pointed hat pushed back on her head. Her blond curls were unbound - long locks that almost reached her waist. As Dan and Trixie watched, she lifted one arm and pointed in their direction. Trixie felt goosebumps break out on her arms, and she was struck by a sudden chill that left her shivering.
“Beware…” the witch’s ghost whispered. “Beware!