Over the next few weeks, the weather grew even colder. It was far too early for snow, but a thin layer of frost clung to the ground each morning, geometric ice crystals twinkling in the rising sun. The large oak and maple trees scattered throughout the village stood bare, their empty branches reaching for the sky like gnarled brown fingers. Only the dense evergreens retained a bit of color against the perpetual graying of late autumn.
Since the night at the skating rink, Lester, Mae, and Amanda’s lives had settled into comforting normalcy. Their first year of middle school was in full swing, and the challenging classes kept them busy. Week after week, the assigned homework grew, not only in volume but difficulty as well. Lester was thankful for Amanda’s impressive math skills and Mae’s seemingly inexhaustible knowledge of history. Each of their academic strengths complemented the others, and they tackled every new test and assignment together.
Lester had told them about his conversation with Mrs. Q, and they’d both agreed she could be removed from their shrinking list of potential members of The Light. Fortunately, Mae and Amanda had been careful to hide any evidence of their activities at the skating rink before going for help. It had been relatively easy since the ice sculpture of Bernard engulfed in flames had reverted to a puddle of water the minute Lester had fainted. After that, they’d simply disposed of the buckets and pocketed the ring. Amanda had returned it to Lester, and he’d hidden it in his room, in no hurry to repeat their experiment anytime soon.
Mae was skeptical of Lester’s theory that there might not actually be any members of The Light in Giles Hollow and never had been. Though, she did begrudgingly admit to the possibility that, technically, he could be right. They remained vigilant for anything out of the ordinary or strange but, with no new leads, found themselves at a bit of a dead end.
Life at Amanda and Lester’s houses had returned to normal, or what passed for normal in the world of The Council. Meaning both their fathers were largely absent due to work.
The three friends still met regularly in the Library basement but, more often than not, spent their time joking and eating junk food. Mae had gotten a new book on ghost hunting, and she shared it with Lester as they pretended to listen to Amanda. Unfortunately, Amanda’s continuing infatuation with Thomas made it impossible to talk to her about anything else. For his part, Lester steered clear of the new kid. Mae’s touch-screen argument might have put him above suspicion, but that didn’t mean Lester had to like him.
As the days grew shorter, the farmers brought in the last of the corn and dried hay bails, leaving the fields a patchwork of close-cropped brown and yellow squares. The younger kids at school spent their recess time jumping into piles of leaves and talking excitedly about Halloween. They compared costume ideas and discussed how much candy they planned to eat before relinquishing their haul to their parents. Who claimed too much sugar before bed caused nightmares.
The Halloween holiday fell on Saturday this year, which meant Elmwood City’s Annual Pumpkin Festival would take place on Friday. Without the specter of having to trudge off to school the following day, most kids reasoned they should be allowed to enjoy the festival late into the evening. This was the same argument Lester, Mae, and Amanda made to their own parents.
It was late afternoon when Mr. and Mrs. Chase dropped the three friends at the wooden barricades, marking the outer boundary of the celebration. They removed their carved pumpkins from the car’s trunk, thanked Mae’s parents, and walked inside.
The Pumpkin Festival was a beloved tradition that Amanda and Lester had attended since they were little. It started early in the morning with the blocking off of Elmwood City’s downtown. The entire area was closed to everything but pedestrian traffic, all the way up to the small park located in the heart of the shopping district. In the middle of this green space, with its cute white gazebo and bronze statues, a three-story high scaffolding had been erected for the occasion.
Each year attendees arrived with armfuls of pumpkins in a collective attempt to break the world record for the most lit jack-o-lanterns. The previous Halloween, they had fallen short with a total of 30,111. If the current giant wall of orange looming in the distance was any indication, they were determined to do better this year. However, while the pyramid-shaped scaffolding, with a giant pumpkin at its center, was impressive, it was by no means capable of displaying them all. Every bench, window, sidewalk, and storefront would be awash in a sea of flickering candles when the sun went down.
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Lester followed Amanda and Mae past dozens of tiny vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and mummies. The miniature monsters roamed in packs. They rode the Ferris wheel, jumped in bouncy haunted houses, and gorged themselves silly at food stalls, all to a soundtrack of spooky music blaring from hidden speakers.
Adults were in costumes too. Several had even dressed up their pets, many of which didn’t seem to find the cute outfits they struggled to remove with their teeth quite as amusing as their owners did.
Every store had its doors open wide. Employees were busy giving out candy, painting faces, reading fortunes, or acting out mildly spooky ghost stories. Each shop worked hard to compete with the others to draw customers inside.
Lester loved seeing the creative ways people chose to carve their pumpkins and called out his favorites to Amanda and Mae as they walked along. There were plenty of traditional offerings with square teeth and triangular eyes, but others had gone a more creative route. Some had names of businesses, logos for rock bands, or the local high school mascot etched onto their sides. One simply read homework in letters that looked like dripping blood. A bit farther on, the mouth of a large pumpkin chomped down on a small gourd, carved to look as though it were screaming as it was being eaten. A particularly fierce jack-o-lantern had a small kid’s pajama bottoms clenched between its rows of pointed teeth. Lester’s favorite was a stunningly lifelike carving of a gremlin from the old horror movie of the same name.
They arrived at the check-in booth and placed their pumpkins on the table. The attendant let them know that it looked like they were on track to finally beat the record this year. Amanda’s pumpkin was a standard design, except she’d made one of the eyes appear to be winking. Lester had carved the mathematical symbol for Pi on his in what he considered to be a hilarious pumpkin pie joke. And to no one’s surprise, Mae’s creation had an intricate Loch Ness Monster that wrapped all the way around, seeming to chase its own tail.
Their hands now free, the three of them made a bee-line to the Ye Olde Goode Shop, whose main attraction was a large copper kettle used to make the store’s famous homespun sweets. As they approached, a dozen wide-eyed kids stood outside the shop’s front window, leaving drool marks on the glass as they gawked at whatever delight was currently in progress.
Veterans of the festival, Lester and Amanda skipped the candy shop’s front door and instead led Mae to the back of the building. This was where the annual Halloween Seconds Sale happened. The sweets sold here were fine and tasted as good as anything in the shop, but somewhere in the manufacturing process, a mistake had been made. As a result, there were bags of neon-blue candy corn, trays of chocolate witches with droopy brooms that resembled mops, and unfortunately malformed gummy ghosts with green eyes, looking disturbingly similar to a pile of used tissues.
None of this mattered to Lester and his friends, and they each filled paper bags with their favorites for a surprisingly low sum.
They were walking away from the sale, taking tentative bites of something that had been labeled mystery fudge, when a thin woman dressed as a cat called out to Mae. She had two little girls in tow, one with blue, spiky hair and a blow-up guitar, the other wearing a black and white prison jumpsuit and stubbly beard. Lester didn’t recognize her but noticed Mae’s posture sag as she approached.
“Maeko, I thought that was you.”
“Hello, Doctor Doona,” mumbled Mae.
“It’s so nice to see you out and about,” the woman continued cheerfully, despite Mae’s lackluster greeting. “Isn’t this a great festival? Are these friends from school?”
When Mae didn’t answer, Lester and Amanda jumped in and politely introduced themselves. By the time they’d finished, the two young girls had spotted the candy shop and sprinted off.
“It looks like I’ve got to go,” Dr. Doona said, running after them. “I’ll see you soon, Maeko.”
Lester found an empty bench beside a stop sign covered in a white sheet with two holes. The three friends sat under the floating ghost with red eyes and traded candy. Mae was unusually quiet, but neither Lester nor Amanda wanted to pry. Their friendship had evolved over the last month, reaching that comfortable space where it wasn’t necessary to keep conversations going all of the time. They now understood Mae well enough to know that if she had something to share, she would, and if she didn’t, that was okay too.
Lester finished the last of his bag, burped loudly, and swiped a chocolate cow’s tail from Amanda. He broke it in two and handed half to Mae.
“I’m in therapy,” Mae said as she accepted the candy. “Doctor Doona’s my psychiatrist. My parents didn’t move to Giles Hollow for work. In fact, my father left an excellent job because he and my mother thought I needed a fresh start.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to us,” Amanda said. “It’s no big deal. I bet half the people here are in therapy.”
“I know,” said Mae, “but I want to.