Must Love Halloween
A Short Story
By
Kelly McClymer
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Dedication
To Annie: a far better writer, artist, and cheerleader, than I.
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Must Love Halloween
One must not be so rude as to decline a summons to join a celebration, Addie. Arrive fashionably late, greet your hostess politely, and then depart promptly after the first guest takes his or her leave. Thus, you will never be considered a poor guest, nor will you lack invitations.
--Lady Margaret to Miss Adelaide Putnam, Manor of Dark Dreams, p. 12.
I read the passage my finger had landed on three times, but there was no escaping the facts. My mom's advice -- or rather, since she’s no longer around, the advice I gleaned from reading her one published novel, Manor of Dark Dreams -- told me what to do. Smile and attend my stepmother Krystal's Halloween bash.
Problem was, I didn't want to go and Lady Margaret was silent on how to force yourself to do what you’d really rather not do. Poor Addie simply did as she was told. At least, she did at the beginning of the novel. Later, on page 250, she grows quite a spine. But I've read the book so many times the cover is about to fall off, and I've already grown my spine. I will do anything to avoid Krystal’s big extravaganza. Anything short of murder or risking my college worthy grade average, of course.
My dad says I'm just being stubborn and childish. Sometimes I wonder if he forgets that we used to carve our pumpkins with Mom. That she could never get her jack-o-lantern’s smile to look menacing -- only goofy. I wonder if he likes Krystal's Type-A perfect Halloween better than my mom's more homemade version. Not that I would ask him. TMI to the max.
Thing is, Halloween should be one of my favorite holidays, since the official colors are orange and black, and black is my favorite color. Plus, it makes me think of my mom and smile. I tried to carve a goofy pumpkin in her honor, but Krystal "fixed" it. Perfect. Scary. Just like Krystal, who has overdosed our house on orange. Pumpkins line the driveway, the walkway, the porch, and the steps. Some carved in the traditional evil grin, some left alone until it is time for them to be sacrificed to the gods of Thanksgiving Day pies. The biggest one had my dad's favorite Sox cap on, the next one had the hat Krystal had bought to watch the royal wedding, a slightly smaller one had my ratty old black wool cap. And a really teeny one had a baby bonnet on it. And that was just the outside of the house.
Inside, orange crepe ribbon hangs from the doorways inside and out. Spiderwebs of cotton thread feature huge spiders -- black, but with huge orange eyes and fangs.
This onslaught of orange is why Geoff had to drive over to the public library to talk to me. I was happy to get his text, and even happier when he said he was nearby and would be there in two minutes.
I'd been trying to ignore the nerds playing Wii in the library game room while texting my best friend Sarah to beg her to convince her parents to have a two-person Halloween party this year. Sarah, me, and absolutely no orange.
Looking forward to seeing Geoff, I had just enough time to text Sarah and cancel our traditional late afternoon coffee run, grab my backpack and say goodbye to the nerd herd so I could meet him outside. Away from the prying eyes of Krystal's best friend, who was also the head librarian.
"What's up?" I asked as Geoff climbed out of the truck.
He raised his hands to stop me from giving him a hug, waving me off, as he carefully brandished a large black vellum -- only one discreet splash of orange at the top corner -- invitation. With a bow and a flourish, he presented the invitation to me. "I await your response, milady Pippa," he intoned solemnly.
I sighed. Geoff was not the type of guy to issue formal invitations. But he did work for a pair of twins who didn't know the meaning of the word informal. Triste and Rienne. I should have known they'd be throwing a fancy Halloween party at Chrysalis Cliff. Correction, that their father and his new program director would be throwing a fancy Halloween party to convince everyone that the terrible goings-on at the posh-to-the-max spa this past summer were a thing of the past.
I didn't take the invitation. "Tell them I'm flattered, but I'm afraid that diplomacy requires I suffer through a Halloween bash at home. You can add that I'd much rather be with them, but family harmony means I have to politely refuse."
He straightened and grinned, pulling me in close for a hug and a kiss on my ear. "Even if I'm in attendance?"
"I thought you had to study for exams?"
He shrugged. "Mr. Pertweath promised if I did the driving for the party, he'd pay double. That will take care of full-time tuition for next semester. I can hire someone to take my exams. You know those college professors can't tell one student from another."
I laughed. Geoff was not planning to pay anyone to take his exams for him. No one else could get the grades he had already pulled down. Straight As in physics, chemistry, English, calculus and public speaking. The guy was no slouch of a college freshman. A good role model for me when I went to college next year. As my dad had taken to saying to me in between lectures about getting too serious too fast. As if. To pull off those grades, Geoff was a ghost in my life. Random texts, coffee on Saturday morning, and the very rare evening where we managed to make it to a movie with Sarah and her guy-of-the-week. My dad had only given permission for double-dates, so far.
He waved the invitation at me again. "Come on. Isn't this the perfect excuse to skip your stepmom's party? They miss you."
"And I miss them." It may sound crazy to say I missed a pair of ten-year-olds so odd they made Pugsly and Wednesday Addams look normal, but they'd wormed their way into my heart this summer when I'd been their nanny. "But Halloween at Chrysalis Cliff? If Mr. P. is doubling your pay, that can only mean he has some very important VIPs to please." I shuddered. "And we know how well that goes when I'm around. I think I'd rather put in a brief polite appearance at home, and then retreat to the basement, or a really deep closet."
He dropped a kiss on my nose and I almost -- almost -- forgot that the library director Mrs. Washington was such good friends with Krystal that she wouldn't hesitate to take a picture with her cell phone and send it to Stepmother Snoops-a-lot. I pushed him away. "Really. I wish I could."
He sighed and his smile disappeared into a slight frown. "Okay. I didn't want to do this to you, but --" He pulled out a handwritten note. I could see that Triste had written it, but I suspected that Rienne had dictated most of it.
I took the note and read it, and then, as the instructions demanded, tore it into a thousand tiny pieces, and scattered them to the wind. I hoped Mrs. Washington was busy telling the Wii crowd to play nice and not looking out the window. Littering at the library was frowned upon.
Dad didn't object too much when Geoff came to pick me up to take me to Chrysalis Cliff. I'd done everything I could to appease his fatherly worries. Sarah and her guy-du-jour Drew were double-dating to the party with us. Mr. P had promised him that Sarah and I'd be staying with the twins in their suite -- with Geoff and Drew far, far away in the apartment reserved for the Chrysalis Cliff driver. What more could a father want?
"No drinking," he said, giving me a quick hard hug.
"As if." He didn't seem to believe that I'd never had a drink. I know it wasn't uncommon for my classmates to drink, but I wasn't in any hurry to join the crowd. I never had been. But for some reason, he just didn't trust me.
"We're going to miss you," Krystal said, enveloping me in her freshly baked Snickerdoodle scent. She pressed a bag of cookies shaped like fingers, with bright red icing nails, into my hands. "All three of us." She pressed her hands, complete with long, bright red fake nails, against her still flat midsection.
"I'll miss
you, too," I lied. Why they thought I should be happy that they'd come home from their summer-long honeymoon cruise with nice tans and a Baby-on-Board sticker plastered across Krystal's stomach I can't imagine. Fortunately, Geoff and Sarah had helped me do the math. I'd already applied for early admission to the university. With luck, I'd be out of the house by the time the rug rat was walking.
Once we were safely in the truck and on our way to pick up Sarah and Drew, I turned to Geoff. "Okay. What's the name of this twerp menacing the twins?"
He handed me a thin folder, marked "Pippa -- For Your Eyes Only." I flipped it open.
The twins had been thorough, as usual. Under "Suspect" was a picture of a kid with freckles and red hair. Petey. His birthday pegged him at ten, just a month younger than the twins. He was the son of the new program director who had replaced Lady Buena Verde when she was invited to host special psychic sessions on a round-the-world cruise.
Under "Crimes" they had the typical bratty kid stuff: he called them vampires and pulled their hair when no adult was looking, pinched hard when one of the twins got too close, and ratted them out to adults for things they hadn't done.
Under "Suspected Crimes: the list was a bit more disturbing. Software viruses had been planted on the twins' super protected hack-proof bank of computers. One sent videos of various locations at Chrysalis Cliff where there was some spooky white ghost thing floating over the pool, or in the pantry, or reflected in the dining room mirror. The other virus let loose a maniacal laugh whenever the Escape key was pressed.
Things had gone missing, too. Rienne's favorite pair of headphones -- black, of course. Triste's pocketwatch, inherited from her grandfather. Petey was the prime suspect. Problem was, as the twins' meticulously documented, he always had an ironclad alibi when it came to connecting him with any of the thefts.
The alternate suspect was, of course, one of the Chrysalis Cliff ghosts. But the twins had made no independent sightings of any ghosts, except for the virus videos, which they naturally did not trust.
"My money is on Petey. What about you?"
"Petey for the win. There are no such thing as ghosts." Geoff was pretty sure on that one. I had reservations, based on the way, last summer, that a certain butterfly who reminded me of my mom had led me to find the twins when they got lost following Misty Gale, their wandering goat. But I kept that to myself.
"Okay. So all we need to figure out is how he's doing it." I could figure the why -- Triste and Rienne were the sweetest girls, but they were a bit on the creepy side if you didn't get to know them. Petey was probably scared to death of them. I had been when I'd first become their summer nanny.
"I assume the twins have a plan?" I flipped through the pages. "I don't see one here."
"They've got it locked down. They'll brief us when we get there. They're afraid either Petey or the ghost will hack it and get warned away." He chuckled.
"Wow. They really are freaked out about it. This Petey must be one cute kid," I said ironically, as Geoff pulled into Sarah's driveway
"Cute as the plague," Geoff said flatly. Apparently Petey had ironed the irony out of him.
Sarah came out, in a pirate wench costume. Drew matched in an eyepatch and cutlass. "Costumes," I groaned. Krystal had tried to turn me into a fairy princess, but I'd pleaded the twins' love of black and lied that they already had my costume waiting for me."
"Got you covered." Geoff pointed to a paper bag at my feet. It held one of the maid's uniforms from when Chrysalis Cliff was a bed and breakfast with maid service.
"Thanks. What are you?"
He dropped his chauffeur hat onto his head. "Alfred, manservant to Batman, at your service."
"Clever and lazy. I like that in a guy."
Havens, the unflappable Chrysalis Cliff butler, was too busy seeing to the big party to do more than give us a quick wave when we arrived. Laurie, who wasn't much older than me, but worked full time as Mr. P's assistant, gave me a wave and a smile as she passed by with a VIP in tow. I'd forgotten how frantic a big do could be at Chrysalis Cliff.
Sarah looked at me with wide eyes. "This place is fabulous. Way beyond what you told me."
"It's even better when it's quiet." I had to raise my voice a little, because the party was already well in swing and the band was playing.
I looked for the twins, but didn't see them. I started toward the crowd in the ballroom, not happy that I'd have to wade through a sea of orange to find the girls. But then I saw Mr. P talking to a woman dressed like Queen Elizabeth who had her hand resting on our prime suspect Petey's head.
"Mr. P. Hi. Thank you for letting me bring Sarah, so I could convince her I wasn't lying when I told her how fabulous this place was." I held up the bag of severed finger cookies, and the bag that held my costume. "Krystal sent some goodies. I just need to change and I'll be ready to party."
Mr. P, who was dressed as Paul Revere, right down to the lantern in his hand, smiled at Sarah and Drew, a little distractedly. "Welcome to Chrysalis Cliff, and feel free to believe everything Pippa tells you."
I didn't see the girls anywhere nearby, which was odd. When they had a chance for their father's attention, they usually made full use of it. "I'm looking for Triste and Rienne." I pointed inside the ballroom. "Are they in there?"
He frowned, a sad apologetic frown. "I'm afraid they've been grounded."
"Grounded? For Halloween."
"For life would be more appropriate," the woman said.
Mr. P looked sad, but he smiled anyway as he said, "Where are my manners? Pippa, please meet my new Program Director. She's doing a wonderful job of picking up where Lady Buena Verde left off."
"Kate, this is Pippa, she looked after the twins this summer."
The woman gave me a sympathetic hand-clutch. "I don't know how you survived those monsters. Look what they did to my Petey." She lifted up his arm and revealed an angry red forearm covered in hives. "Itching powder. He's very allergic. He only eats natural foods, and I never let him near those nasty computers and plastic-laden poisonous things. And then they do this to him."
"Ouch." I bent down to Petey's height. "I bet that itches."
"Those girls are out to get me," he whispered, his eyes round and so solemnly honest I knew he was lying. Or at least I hoped he was.
"Kids and pranks." I shrugged. I assumed this was going to put a crimp in the twins' plan, but knowing them, they'd have at least two backup plans. "Is it okay if I go up and say hi?"
The woman tsked disapprovingly, but Mr. P nodded. "Perhaps you can convince them to leave poor little Petey alone. I don't know why they've taken such a dislike to him. But I will not allow my daughters to become bullies."
"I'm on it," I said. "I don't want any bullies around here, either." I looked Petey right in the eye when I said that. I think he squirmed a little. But it could have been the hives.
We took the elevator and I was relieved that the sound of the partying died away as soon as the elevator door slid shut.
Sarah grinned at me. "I'll never accuse you of making things up ever again. Promise. Wish I'd had a chance to visit when you were here this summer."
"We'd have had fun." That had been Mr. P's orders for me: teach his much too solemn daughters how to have fun. With Sarah, I'd have had an easier time of it. Fun wasn't exactly my middle name, even before my mom died and dad met Krystal. Sometimes I think the twins had helped me see that fun was ... well, fun ... just as much as I'd helped them to enjoy life a little more.
I pressed the gold button marked 3. I was not in the mood for a party. If I wasn't mistaken, I'd seen a maid hefting a tray of orange drinks of some sort, too. I'd much rather help the twins sort out their Petey problem than mingle with Mr. P's guests as they got louder and looser with every orange cocktail they drank.
It had been a while since I'd been in the twin's domain, but it hadn't changed much. The big binder meant for a nanny was still in its place, despite the fact the twins had convinced their father they did not nee
d a nanny any longer, now that they'd decided to go to public school. The bank of gleaming computers and the shelves of books were free of dust.
Triste and Rienne had changed a little, even though it was just a couple of months. Gotten taller. They looked more confident somehow, even though I'd never really though of them as timid, only serious beyond their years.
They ran toward me and we hugged. "I really miss you guys," I said honestly. "But I hope you don't have any itching powder surprises for me."
"We didn't do it!" They both protested indignantly. But then they clammed up and looked at Sarah and Drew suspiciously. I said cheerfully, "This is my best friend, Sarah, and this is her friend Drew."
Rienne pressed her lips together and I suspected she was about to bluntly tell them to leave us alone so we could take care of the real reason we were here -- the Petey problem. I held up my hand to stop her. "Hey, Sarah, you're good at getting a party going, right?"
Sarah nodded. "What do you want me to do? Turn on some music? Start the dancing?"
"First things first." I led her to the elevator with Drew in her wake. "I want you to go down and get some of the party treats for us."
"Can't you call the maid?" She looked puzzled.
"They'll just send the healthy food up here. Stuffed celery."
She made a face. "We deserve the good stuff."
"Exactly. Think you can handle it?"
"On it." She dragged Drew into the elevator. "You get the music going while we round up the treats."
"Will do." I lied as the elevator door closed. I turned around to face the twins. "Sorry you got grounded. Is that going to change the plans?"
"We've already gone to backup plan one." Triste said. "Tonight is the night we find out what's going on. Either Petey is the biggest sneak in the fourth grade, or we have a ghost problem again."
"Hey. No "G" word."
Rienne looked puzzled. "But we should rule out any suspects yet, or --"
Geoff held his finger to his lips. "You heard Pippa. It's Halloween. Do you really want to be stirring up the spirits? Besides, I noticed that Petey's arm only had one place where the itching powder caused hives. Looks like a self-inflicted injury to me. When a bully got me with itching powder it went all over."
"You believe us?" Rienne looked like she might cry. If she ever cried. Which she did not.
"Of course we do."
"I wish Father did," Triste said softly.
"He will. As soon as we prove Petey is behind the problems." I promised them.
"We've been trying," Triste began, a folder marked "Plan B" in her hand. "But if he is, we haven't found out how he -- "
And then the lights went out.
The domain was utterly silent. It reminded me of the time when a wicked big storm had hit last summer, except there wasn't any sound of howling wind. Just silence. No computers humming. Eerie.
A small light flashed on. Geoff, handy with a pocket sized flashlight. I laughed. "Trust you to come prepared for a power outage when there isn't a cloud in the sky."
"Let me call down and alert Havens," he said. He picked up his cell phone and frowned at it. "I don't have signal. How about you?"
I looked at mine. "Nope. We'll have to go downstairs."
"No way." Triste crossed her arms and her pale skin glowed from the light of Geoff's small flashlight. "I'm not leaving here. Petey will steal something or mess with the computers if we don't keep watch. I know it."
"Well, he can't see his way around to steal anything in the dark." I pointed out.
Triste protested. "You don't know Petey. He probably caused the blackout just so he could cause trouble."
"There must be flashlights in the closet," I said, trying not to show the twins that I was feeling slightly on the panicky side. I moved toward them and stopped when a howl like a wounded animal began to sound from somewhere deep in the bowels of the house.
"The ghost." Rienne and Triste hugged each other, eyes wide. "That can't be Petey. And the power to the computers are off. It must be a ghost."
"Wait." Geoff switched off his flashlight as the howl came again. "Listen." He moved toward one of the walls. "Look. There's a light there, right around the edge of those shelves." He bent down and pressed his ear to the wall.
Before I could say anything, he stood up, pulled on one of the bookcases, and there was a loud click and the sudden, unmistakeable feel of fresh air.
He switched on his flashlight to reveal a secret tunnel. We couldn't see much beyond the fact that it was dark, and narrow, with smooth stone walls.
He turned to us and put the flashlight under his chin. "If you want to live, follow me," he said in his best zombie voice, which was really not funny at all, given the circumstances.
Even so, I pushed the twins forward and followed behind. If we didn't have to be stuck in the domain, in the dark, on Halloween, who was I to argue?
The air was cool in the tunnel, not at all musty as I feared. "This must lead outside."
"Probably to the garage, or maybe the beach," Geoff speculated. "It looks like this tunnel has been here as long as the house. It was probably something a smuggler built to keep his illicit goods safe from the prying eyes of the law-abiding citizen."
"Do you think our ghost is a smuggler?" Triste asked.
"There is no ghost." Rienne and I both said at once.
"Do you think there's pirate treasure down here?"
Geoff pointed the flashlight's thin beam to the floor. "Not likely. No dust. No cobwebs. No treasure." He scanned the beam back and forth as we moved slowly forward. And then he stopped and trained the beam on the wall. "A light switch. Definitely reduces the likelihood of treasure, I'm afraid."
Rienne reached forward and pressed it on as Triste said warningly, "Wait, what if -- " The light did not come on. "Never mind."
The howling laugh came again, echoing off the walls loudly this time. Geoff moved forward again, and turned around a corner. We hung back, letting the bloodcurdling sound fade away.
"Geoff? Where did you go?" I called. No answer.
The twins and I shuffled forward, not at all sure we shouldn't turn back to the safety of the domain, even if the power was out.
The howling sounded again, and began to grow louder. We stopped as the howl came toward us in the dark.
And then it stopped. Abruptly. Normal human laughter began. Geoff.
He switched on his flashlight and shone the beam on the small silver recorder. Right next to it was a Tootsie Roll wrapper. "No ghost. No treasure. But Petey has some 'splaining to do."
After I stopped shaking, I took the recorder from Geoff, and put it in my purse.
"Be careful not to smudge Petey's fingerprints," Triste said.
"I'm being careful." I only used two fingers to drop it beside my cell phone. I think I'd seen them use that technique on CSI. Or maybe it was NCIS. Whatever.
"How did Petey find this place?" I looked at Geoff. "Did you know it was here?"
He shook his head. "I don't think Mr. P. knows either. We'd better see where it leads, so we can let him know how big a problem he has. If one of those VIP guests were to be be the victim of one of Petey's fake ghost tricks -- " He shook his head. "After last summer, that would be it. No one would want to stay here."
The tunnel was surprising long and twisty, with secret doors leading to the dining room, the master bedroom, and the maid's room. We opened the doors we found, just to peek in and identify the room. There were too many party goers around for us to risk actually coming out of the tunnel. Mr. P would not appreciate having to round up partygoers who wanted to explore the newly discovered secret tunnel. Especially since we didn't know where it led.
The rush of fresh air got stronger and stronger the further we went. At last there was a door. It was a battered wooden thing, swollen from years by the ocean. Geoff had to manhandle it to get it open, only to find an iron gate barring our way. We pushed it open, cautiously, and forced our way through an over grown hedge. A
ll of a sudden, Geoff stopped and backed up. He held his fingers to his lips and we stood, silent. My heart took an extra beat as I actually imagined he'd seen a ghost.
It was Halloween, after all.
I peeked though the hedge, just past Geoff's elbow.
The tunnel exit was disguised by the row of hedges that flanked the large outdoor terrace that led to the pool. Petey stood there, gazing up at his mother. She was dressed like Queen Elizabeth and Petey was in danger of being knocked over by her wide panniered skirt every time she turned to greet a guest with a welcoming wave of an industrial sized flashlight. The staff had lined the terrace with candles.
"Why can't I go live with Dad? Do you want those girls to kill me? They probably turned off the power so they could get me once and for all."
"Petey," his mother sighed. "Power goes out sometimes. I know you love your dad. But he lets you watch TV. And play video games. And eat those disgusting candy bars of yours. You need a responsible parent. Not a fun parent."
Petey frowned. I had a sense he was on a mission, just like the twins. "Dad is a responsible parent. He's an engineer."
"He'd forget to pick you up from school." His mother wasn't really thinking about what she was saying. It seemed more like she was picking from a pre-packaged box of reasons.
I felt a little sorry for Petey. Until he said, "Fine. I hope you feel awful when those creepy girls finally push me off a cliff or something." Twerp.
I tried to hold the twins back from bursting through the hedge, but they were wiry little things, and completely determined to make mincemeat of Petey. Besides, the lights snapped on and the sudden harsh light blinded me for a moment.
My eyes adjusted just in time to see the twins facing Petey down with solemn gazes. They shook their heads in eerie unison as they said, "We're not going to kill you. But we are going to tell your mom you're the one behind all the pranks around here."
"I want my grandfather's watch back," Triste added.
His mother stared at us, her mouth a small shocked o.
I guess four people bursting from a hedge at the same moment the lights flood back on is a little bit surprising.
Petey did a good job of pretending to be frightened of the twins. He grabbed his mom's arm and moved closer to her.
Geoff stopped that, though. "Hold on, bud. Before we start talking about killing or stealing, I need to know how you found that tunnel."
"What tunnel?" He tried to look like he didn't have a clue. I think his mother even believed him.
Until Geoff held up a Tootsie Roll wrapper. "I found this next to the recorder."
"What recorder?" His mother sagged in her Queen Elizabeth gown and for a minute I thought her wig was too heavy for her head. "What is going on? Petey is not allowed to eat candy. I assure you that wrapper is not his."
Geoff said quietly, "Well, then I guess he must stuff his pockets with them so he can feed them to the birds." He pointed to one of Petey's back pockets, where the top of a Tootsie Roll peeked out.
I noticed Sarah and Drew at the edge of the crowd. Their backs were to us, but not for long. I sooo did not want to explain all this to her. She'd tell everyone at school. I'd be famous. I didn't want to be famous.
I stepped forward, trying not to draw the curiousity of any of the guests. "Maybe we should talk about this in private?"
The door to the private study closed and we all stood there, Petey and his mother on one side, Mr. P, Geoff, Triste, Rienne and me on the other. It wasn't a fair fight. Which was a good thing, because Petey was a cool customer.
"Mom. It was them. They planted those Tootsie Rolls on me. They really are out to get me."
The story sounded absurd to me. But then I wasn't Petey's mother. She believed him completely, and addressed Mr. P sharply, "My son is afraid for his life. You must get control of your children."
Geoff snorted. Mr. P frowned at him and then turned back to Petey's mom. "Kate, I'm afraid I've always had some doubts about whether my children were bullying your son. But the evidence --" He looked at the twins apologetically. "Clearly, I should have investigated things further. Bullying should not be allowed, I'm sure you agree. Even if it turns out the bully is not who we first thought it was?"
Petey's mom struggled, trying to understand what was obvious to us all. "This is not possible. Petey --" Her expression reminded me of my dad's, whenever I mentioned Mom, or some memory I had of doing things with her. Like her goofy pumpkins.
Triste went to stand next to her father. "We have evidence. He's been using the secret tunnel to spy on us and steal our things."
"They planted that evidence. It wasn't me. They don't like me." Petey was doing his best to look afraid, but every so often, the mean look in his eye gave him away.
Rienne took her father's hand. "Petey, you know you pinch us and push us when your mom isn't looking. It isn't nice to lie."
Petey's eyes grew desperate at he looked at his mom. "I'm not lying. They are. If you don't let me go live with dad, my blood will be on your hands."
Geoff chuckled. "Dude, that's too much drama, don't you think?"
"You belong here," him mom said, sounding not at all as imperious as I'd imagine the real Queen Elizabeth would have been. "We'll work this out, honey. You'll see. Soon you and Triste and Rienne will be great friends."
The flash of disappointment on Petey's struck through me. He looked like I felt when Dad introduced me to Krystal. "Mom --"
"We'll talk about this later. I don't know why you're doing this, but I'll help you honey. This is our new life. It's the way things have to be."
I remembered Petey's earlier insistence that he go live with his dad. I suddenly understood what he'd been doing. Diabolical kid. I almost admired him. "I think he's doing because you don't listen when he tells you he wants his old life back."
"Impossible." She wasn't really in the mood to listen. It was probably awful enough to find out her son was the diabolical mastermind behind all the things that he'd blamed on the twins.
I tried one more time. "Couldn't you at least give it a chance?"
Petey looked shocked that I'd argue his case for him. He glanced at his mother hopefully.
Once again the regal Queen, she stood straight and addressed Mr. P as if none of the rest of us were in the room. "Obviously your children have tried to find a way to get rid of my son, and have set him up. He does not eat candy, nor does he go playing in secret tunnels. I hope you will put an end to this bullying once and for all, or I shall have to give my notice."
Mr. P turned to the girls. "Let me see your evidence."
I turned over the recorder, careful to hold it with my CSI grip.
"We can get it tested for fingerprints," Triste said anxiously.
"No need," Mr. P answered. He held up the recorder. There was one perfect Petey-sized chocolate thumbprint on the smooth silver body.
He bent down to Petey's height. "So, young man. You found a secret tunnel I didn't even know existed. Pretty enterprising of you."
Petey looked at him warily. "I'm good at figuring stuff out. Like my dad."
"Yes, you are. And I think you're pretty honest, too. So tell me. Are you the one who turned off the power?"
Petey nodded, his cheeks burning. "I wanted everyone to go home early."
Mr. P asked gently, "Are my daughters bullying you?"
Petey started to say yes, but the lie caught in his throat as he stared at Mr. P. "They're creepy. They scare me." He whispered, though his words were loud enough for us all to hear. "I think they're vampires."
"Petey!" His mother looked mortified. Finally. "There are no such thing as vampires."
Mr. P held up the recorder. "Or ghosts. Agreed?" He looked at all of us, waiting until we'd each mumbled agreement and then he stood up and pocketed the recorder.
"Good." Mr. P asked Petey's mom, "Kate, do you think the boy may feel out of place here? Maybe he would be happier with his father, and his school friends? He'd be welcome to visit here an
y time. And you can arrange your schedule to go see him as often as you'd like."
She didn't answer right away, because guests started making their way back inside now that the power was back on, but I overheard her on the phone shortly after the last of the guests had been settled in their rooms and the staff was beginning the exhausting clean up. By tomorrow there'd be not a speck of orange left in sight.
I sat by the pool, with Geoff and Sarah and Drew and the twins. I'd brought my suit, but I'd decided I didn't want to swim with all the guests around. I'd hoped for a late night swim. All by myself. No one around to disturb the peace and solitude.
Or teach the twins how to do cannonballs, like Petey had done earlier. The three of them had gone from enemies to friends in the blink of an eye, as soon as he'd returned the stolen loot. Apparently, the twins understood Petey's motivation and Rienne's sole criticism had been, "If you'd told us, we could have helped you cause some real trouble." Hmmm. Maybe they weren't completely innocent angels after all.
Anyway, Petey's mom made the call. She'd taken off the Queen Elizabeth wig, which made her look small in the panniered skirts as she paced by the edge of the terrace, phone in hand. "Dan, I'm not arguing with you any longer. I agree that Petey should live with you. He's miserable here." Her shoulders were slumped a little at the idea that her own son didn't want to live with her. But I gave her tons of mom-karma points. Petey's well-being trumped her own happiness. Even Petey seemed to empathize with her. He came over and hugged her as she talked.
"But he'll be here all summer, and every Christmas until he's eighteen." Her voice was firm, as she pulled Petey's curly wet head back and stared into his face.
He smiled. "Summers are cool, Mom. Can I bring a friend?"
She tousled his hair. "We'll see. First you have to behave once you get to your father's, or you may find yourself in solitary confinement until you head off to college."
She handed the phone to him, "Wish your father a Happy Halloween and tell him you'll seen him tomorrow."
Triste and Rienne had moved closer to me and now they both held my hands as they watched Petey chatting happily to his father. "He's lucky," Rienne said.
"He is. He could have gotten into some major trouble --" Geoff began.
"No. He can go live with his dad and still come back here and see his mom."
I squeezed their hands. "He is lucky, isn't he."
"So are we," Triste said. "We have each other." The twins gave each other that secret twin look.
Rienne added with a grin, "We're really lucky. We have each other, and we can live here with Father, and Pippa can visit us on Halloween and stay with us in the summer."
"You don't need a nanny any longer." I thought about the brother or sister I was about to have. Suddenly I hoped the baby was a sister. I'd like a sister, even if I'd have to wait a long time before I could share secrets with her.
"But we need adventures. And when you visit, there's always an adventure."
Sarah looked at me as if she saw me in a whole new way. "Phillipa Munson, Girl Adventurer?" She shook her head. "Wait until the kids at school hear about this."
I groaned. "They won't believe you."
"True. So I guess we get to keep the secret just between us. But next time, can you let me be a girl adventurer with you?"
"If I ever have another adventure, I'll make sure to invite you," I promised. I didn't think of myself as the adventurous type. But secret passages and ghost hunting, and turning bullies into friends? Those definitely fell under the definition of adventure. Tales sure to make a little sister think she was lucky to have me for a big sister.
Geoff found me in the pool, my favorite place. Mr. P had it heated, but it was still chilly when the air hit my wet skin. So I stood crouched slightly, warm water up to my neck as I watched him walk into the water as if he didn't feel any chill at all.
He pretended to be surprised to see me in the semi-darkness. "Hey. It's the ghost buster."
I splashed him. "Enough with the ghosts. It's past midnight. Halloween is over for another year. We can put the ghosts -- and the orange -- away."
"The moon is still up." He pointed to the sliver of a moon in the dark sky. "Can I talk about that?"
I leaned against him and stared into the sky. The stars were thick and brilliant without any city lights to dim them. "As long as you don't try to convince me you see a witch on a broom up there."
He laughed and kissed me. "Nope. Just a little bit of a smiling face, winking at me because I'm lucky enough to be out here with you."