Chapter Ten

The closer to Halloween, the weirder things got.

Traditionally the night where the barrier between the natural and spiritual worlds was thinnest, we’d been cleansing the town of ghosts with rings of salt around the graveyards and anointing the gates with oil from Rome.

“Are you sure this is necessary? I’ve never seen a ghost.”

Amelia extinguished the sage incense she’d used. “Maybe not everywhere, but better to be safe than sorry. There are those that would use the dead for evil purposes. The spirit is eternal and those not in Heaven are vulnerable to dark magic.”

“Magic.”

She sighed. “Yes, magic. Have you not paid attention since I found you, Seven? Why must you be so stubborn?”

“Genetics.” Mostly Irish, in fact, with the stereotypical red hair, pale skin, and freckles.

When I said things had gotten weird, I didn’t mean actual events…it was a feeling.

An unease.

True, I felt ridiculous skulking around in the dark in a black hoodie and matching pants with weapons in my backpack, but beyond that, nights in October were making my skin crawl and I didn’t like it.

Amelia seemed unaffected.

Was it an agent thing or merely my paranoia?

Thirteen hadn’t given me a contact number, so I had no one to ask.

On Halloween night, I put a ghost sheet costume over my camo outfit. “Headin’ out, Mama.”

“Be good and have fun, honey. Don’t forget to save me a few Butterfingers.” She was staying home to hand out candy.

“I won’t. Don’t let any monsters in while I’m gone.”

She laughed. “I’ll be careful. Scoot! Join your friends.”

Friends…ha.

Had the same ones from last year, sure, but with this big secret, and so much of my time taken up…well, even tonight wasn’t about teenage fun. Amelia was allowing me one hour to trick-or-treat before being on duty, so I carried a small plastic bag with a jack-o’-lantern on it to stuff in my backpack later, but I couldn’t take the risk I’d draw something to the people I cared about. What was that they said on Buffy, ‘The Slayer is always alone’? While I’d never been the most popular, I didn’t want to be a loner, either.

Maybe I’d make friends with others hauled into this crazy service.

Maybe in an asylum where all this hokum belonged.

Would the world end if I gathered candy, bobbed for apples, and went on hay rides?

No.

Screw Amelia. If she was so worried about Halloween, she could deal with the ‘spooky’ herself. Nothing was happening!

The Oddfellows and Rebekahs put on a safe event with untainted candy and a not-too-spooky haunted house. My high school put a haunted house maze in the gym. Churches held Harvest Events. Guthrie was wholesome with a capital W. Why anyone would choose to live in a big city, I don’t know. Sure, some kids threw eggs and toilet paper, but no one got hurt. If we had real ghosts, they’d probably be like Casper.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

So…

Why couldn’t I shake the sense of foreboding?

Other parts of the world might have issues, but Guthrie was quiet as always, so we spent a lot of time walking in circles. Amelia wanted to venture into OKC, but I needed to stay close to Mama in case she needed me. We had a lot of arguments about ‘responsibilities’ into November. I invited Amelia to Thanksgiving as a peace offering, but she declined.

Would’ve been hard to explain her to my relatives, anyway.

She went to New York for the four-day weekend.

At least that’s what she told me. I think she wanted to be anywhere but here.

We loved a good parade and a street fair. Our merchants, innkeepers, eateries, and watering holes welcomed residents and visitors alike and invited all to experience the OK Territory “Guthrie Style”—and that included the Garvisons and Taylors.

My town was a National Historic Landmark and the largest contiguous Historic District on the National Register of Historic Places, with over 2,000 buildings covering 1,400 acres in that District. Many of the buildings and homes still in use today were listed on the Register.

When you grow up in one of the founding families, you know the stats.

The Territorial Christmas Lighted Parade happened on the Saturday after every Thanksgiving, the opening night of Guthrie’s holiday season. The Gubernatorial Candidates for Territorial Governor campaigned (bought off) the good citizens of my town with false promises and plenty of candy and the votes were cast and counted (stolen) by noon on the day of Opening Night. The parade escorted the Territorial Governor candidates to the steps of The US Post Office on 1st and Oklahoma where the official ceremonies got underway with entertainment, introductions, the announcement of the winner, and the Inauguration of the 2004 Territorial Governor.

Then the new governor lit the Territorial Christmas tree.

Territorial Christmas began as a holiday event in 1995 when a group of merchants and citizens (including Mama) decided to celebrate Christmas as it had been in the early days of the Territory after the Land Run of 1889. Because Guthrie was designated the Capital of the Indian and Oklahoma Territories and subsequently the Capital of Oklahoma as the 46th State, nothing was spared in making Victorian Guthrie a showplace for “fine fashion, entertainment, and architecture”.

With an emphasis on the Victorian Era, Downtown Guthrie and the nearby residential district was a natural backdrop for the present-day festival.

A historic homes tour was one night in December and there were two Victorian Walk evenings. Our finest homes, churches, and the Carnegie Library were dressed for the season. Windows throughout the Downtown Historic District came alive with living scenes depicting the joys of the season, my favorite part. There were roving carolers and peanut vendors in the streets, folks dressed in period costumes, and the welcoming ambiance tourists expected in Historic Guthrie.

But this wasn’t like every year before it.

Mama caught a cold that hit hard over Christmas break. My first drive with my new license was to take her to the hospital for a breathing treatment. She came home with an inhaler to help clear her lungs.

“You’re staying home from the diner until you’re better,” I said, tucking her into bed.

“Della, I have to—”

Gently using my increased strength, I prevented her from getting up. “No, you don’t. I can cover what you do while I’m on vacation. I’ve spent my whole life there, Mama. Let me take care of you.”

Her expression was a cross between a glare and a pout. “I’d keep arguin’ with you, but I’m too tired.”

I handed her a mug of tea. “We’ll pick it up in the morning. Rest.”

“I love you, Della. Do I tell you enough?”

Smiling, I turned off the light. “Always.”

Dishes needed washing so I walked to the kitchen, plugged the sink, and ran the hot water. Times like this, I wished my father hadn’t run off when I was five. One day, he just wasn’t there, and we hadn’t seen him since. Divorce papers came in the mail.

Now I wasn’t ready to be a grown-up yet.

With the running faucet hiding the sound of my sniffles, I cried a little.

Had to admit, I was glad for the normality of the diner.

Amelia wasn’t happy when I told her I needed to work full time and couldn’t run around at night. “Della, you made a commitment—”

“For her. My mother comes first, Amelia. Always. That’s somethin’ you gotta learn about me right now. If it comes to her or the world, I’ll choose her every time.” We stood toe-to-toe, around the same height, so I stared into her eyes. “Now, once she’s well, I’ll be happy to wander around town with you chasin’ cats out of garbage cans again.”

Felt ridiculous sneakin’ around town praying I didn’t run into anyone I knew.

Or the police.

She tugged her jacket into place, chin held proud. “No reason to be cheeky, Seven.”

“Just wanna make sure we understand each other. I gotta go.”

For two weeks, I could pretend I had no secrets.