Bone Hollow

by Kim Ventrella

  Her skin, once a cool earthy brown, like the ground just after a thaw, grew warm and rich, like Gramps’s legendary caramel paprika hot chocolate. Her eyes started to glitter, the hazel one especially, and the next thing he knew they weren’t grass green or soft brown anymore but a deep gray, flecked with black.

  Gabe’s mouth dropped open real slow as her loose strands of hair slithered up her back like tiny snakes and wrapped into tight braids atop her head. The braids glowed in the sunlight, almost like a crown. Her dress stayed the same, though it looked older somehow, the lace worn and fraying at the edges, just like the dress the girl had been wearing in Wynne’s memory.

  In fact, she looked exactly like that girl now, even down to the round chin and pointy nose and sly, good-humored smile.

  “Well, I’ll be danged,” Gabe said, by way of response. “If you could look like anybody, why’d you go around pretending to be my best friend?”

  “I wasn’t pretending, exactly,” Wynne said, her smile fading away altogether. “I just didn’t want to scare you.”

  “Sure is a funny way to go about it,” Gabe said, but to his surprise he found that he wasn’t scared, not really. If Wynne could create delicious food out of nowhere, then why couldn’t she change her shape? “This is the real you, though, isn’t it?”

  “’Course it is. You saw for yourself, didn’t you?”

  “I guess.” Gabe pulled Ollie a little tighter to his chest. “Can you change into anyone? Living or dead?”

  “Just about,” she said, but even as she did her eyes drifted up over the treetops and her smile faded. “I can show you tomorrow, if you want.”

  “What about today?” Gabe watched as Wynne stood up and shook the dirt from her dress, never taking her eyes off the treetops. “What is it?” he said. “What do you see?”

  Wynne took a long time answering. Gabe stared and stared at the spot where she was looking. Once, he thought he saw something, too, kind of like a shimmering fog floating below the clouds, but then it disappeared and he figured he must have imagined it.

  “You’ve been gone all night. You can’t leave again,” Gabe said, and now he did feel afraid. Not because of Wynne changing shape, but because he didn’t want her to leave him, too, like everybody else in his life.

  Finally, Wynne pulled her eyes away from the sky and looked at Gabe. “That’ll be for me, I’m afraid. I wish I could stay longer, but I don’t think this one can wait.”

  “This what?” Gabe said.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it later.”

  “How long will you be gone?” Gabe stood up, too. It felt strange to want Wynne to stay so badly, but now that he’d found a friend, he didn’t want to let her go.

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said, her smile brightening. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Rarf!” Ollie jumped on Wynne’s knees and did his darndest to lick her elbows. Apart from still wearing his cast, you’d never know he was a bona fide invalid.

  “Are you sure we can’t go with you?” Gabe said. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he didn’t much care. “We can help, we can—”

  “Bye now.” Wynne flushed as she met his eyes, though maybe it was just the wind making her skin go pink. “Oh, and when you’re heading back, make sure to follow the path.”

  “Wait,” Gabe said, but just then a harsh gust shook the treetops, ruffling Wynne’s hair and whipping her dress around her legs. She winked, and the next thing he knew, she was turning so fast she might as well have swallowed a twister. A sharp clap shook the air; Wynne waved and a moment later she was gone.

  Despite his hurt leg, Ollie leapt up and snapped the air in the spot where Wynne had been.

  “Ain’t that something,” Gabe said, in a voice barely above a whisper. Being dead sure was a lot different than being alive. He stood there blinking for a good long while before finally coming back to his senses.

  “Come on over here, you ornery mutt. Sit down by me before you hurt yourself.” Gabe dragged Ollie by his side, and after a lot of coaxing, he settled down with his head resting on Gabe’s belly. “That’s more like it.”

  He watched blue-and-green dragonflies skim the pond for a while, trying to piece together everything that had happened. He liked the way the sun shimmered off their wings, almost like they were made of glass. He liked the way the pond smelled, too. Like algae and rock and freshly turned mud. His old fishing hole smelled just the same way, the one he always went to with Gramps.

  Gabe rubbed his temples, thinking hard, but he couldn’t make sense of a single thing that had happened. He knew one fact for certain, though. Being dead wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it was just about the only good thing that had happened to him since Gramps had passed. No more mucking out chicken coops or cringing every time Miss Cleo walked into the room. No more feeling like a stranger in someone else’s house. Wynne wanted him here, and Ollie, too. Even if she was a mite more mysterious than he would have liked. Still, Bone Hollow was more home to him than home had ever been, and he’d only been there a single day.

  The only thing better would have been seeing Mama and Daddy and Gramps, but now that he was dead, maybe Wynne could help him with that, too. She must know other dead people, or how to get to them.

  “Isn’t that right?” Gabe said to Ollie, but Ollie was already snoring. Gabe took it as a sign, dropping his head down onto the warm grass and closing his eyes. He didn’t intend to nod off, but the next thing he knew a familiar smell prickled in his nostrils.

  The smell was fresh-cut grass and wood and cigar smoke. Bengay and newspaper and starched polyester pants. In other words, it was Gramps.

  Gabe opened his eyes to a blinding golden light.

  “Hey-ho, Captain. Thought I might check in on you.”

  Gabe blinked and there was Gramps, sitting right next to him holding a fishing pole. He wore a light blue sweater and darker blue pants. On his head was the visor Gabe had bought him, the one with “#1 Gramps” stitched on the front.

  “I’m real sorry about all this,” he said, and as he did a chill breeze ruffled the thin strands of gray hair poking out of his ears. “I suppose you’re lucky,” Gramps said, though his eyes looked sad. “It’s a big responsibility, but I know you can do it. I’ll be waiting for you, Gabe, remember that. Me and Mama and Daddy.”

  “Why can’t I go with you now?” Gabe said. “I’m dead, Gramps. Just like you. You can take me with you.”

  Gramps shook his head. “Not yet, Captain, but don’t you be afraid, you hear? Remember what I always say?”

  “But why not?” Gabe said stubbornly. “I’m grateful for Wynne and all, but she’s not my own flesh and blood. If I could just see you for a little bit, spend time with you, I—”

  “One day.” Gramps smiled. “Be patient. Listen.”

  “To the ocean?” Gabe said. “I don’t want to listen. I want—”

  “That’s right, the ocean. ’Cause it’s been around a heck of a lot longer than you.” Something tugged on the end of Gramps’s line and he started to laugh. “Well, what do you know!” He reeled it in and stared at the thing dangling from his hook. It wasn’t a fish at all, but a moldy old cloak made of black velvet. “I reckon that’s for you,” Gramps said. “What should we do with it?”

  “Throw it back,” Gabe said, looking closer. It was crawling with hairy spiders and cockroaches as big as half-dollars.

  “You sure?” Gramps looked at Gabe with that same sadness twinkling in his eyes.

  “’Course I am. Hurry up, they’ll get on you.”

  Gramps tossed it back, and it splatted in the dirty green water.

  “I’ll be waiting for you, as long as it takes.” He stood up, every one of his bones creaking and cracking. “Remember, don’t be afraid. Promise?”

  Gabe tried to stand up, too, but he’d gotten tangled in his fishing line. “Wait, Gramps, don’t go! Tell me how I can find you!”

  “Promise me, now. Promise you won’
t be afraid.”

  “Sure, I promise, but hang on a sec.” He struggled against the thick plastic wire, but it was no use. It had come alive somehow and was coiling tightly around his arms and ankles. “Please, take me with you!”

  “Goodbye, Captain. And remember what I said. I’ll be waiting.”

  Gabe reached out, but it was too late. The golden light exploded with another snap and Gramps was gone. A moment later, something wet and slippery crawled across Gabe’s face. He sat up with a start, only to find Ollie sitting on his chest again, covering his face in slobber.

  He pulled him off gently, gasping hard to catch his breath. He didn’t know whether his dream had been real or just another nightmare, but he was sure glad Ollie had woken him up. “Better head back to the house,” he said. “It’s already starting to get dark.”

  And it was. Not totally dark, but the sun had dropped behind the trees, bathing everything in burnt orange light.

  “Come on, I’ll carry you,” Gabe said, but Ollie wasn’t listening. He took off on his three good legs, like having a broken bone was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “Wait for me!”

  They jogged down the winding path together, noticing things neither had seen the first time past. Like a fountain in the shape of a whale spurting sea-blue water. Around another bend they found a boulder coated in furry green moss. Only it wasn’t really a boulder, because, as Gabe watched, it began to move. A head poked out, so old and rough it was hard to believe it hadn’t been carved from rock. Two lamplight eyes blinked at them in the dying sun, and then, very slowly, the giant tortoise turned around and slid into the waters of a shadowy marsh.

  Gabe reached for Ollie, trying to pick him up, but he shot ahead, leaving Gabe no choice but to follow.

  “Stay on the path,” he said, but Ollie wasn’t listening. He disappeared into the center of a hedge and started barking.

  Heart clenched in his chest, Gabe pushed his way through the scratchy bush into a clearing bathed in eerie blue light. The smell of dust mixed with rotten meat filled the thick air around them. A figure stepped from behind a tree stump, bending down to grin at his dog. Only it wasn’t like any grin Gabe had ever seen. For one thing, it stretched all the way to the man’s ears. For another, there was something inside his mouth that looked an awful lot like a small bird. It squeaked and flapped its wings to get out, but the man’s long, thin teeth held it trapped inside, like bars.

  “Come on, Ollie, get away from there.”

  Ollie’s barking had gone quiet, and he stood still, as if petrified, staring up at the long, thin man that wasn’t really a man at all. He didn’t have any feet, for starters. Just legs that stretched out like taffy and ended in sharp points. Every time the wind blew, he rippled, which wasn’t surprising, seeing as Gabe could see clean through his body to the trees on the other side.

  “That’s right,” the man was saying in a voice like a swollen, dead tongue. “Come to Pappy. He’ll take care of you.”

  He curled his gloved finger in Ollie’s direction, and it was so long it wound around itself five times before stopping. Ollie didn’t move.

  “Come ’ere, sweetie. Pappy doesn’t bite. Not anymore he doesn’t.” The man leaned closer, his torso bending and stretching. He sucked his lips at Ollie, and the bird in his mouth squealed and tore at his teeth with its claws.

  “You leave him alone!” Gabe cried.

  He reached for Ollie, but the man was too fast. His middle finger shot out like a tongue and coiled around Gabe’s ankle. It was so wet and cold Gabe’s skin ached.

  “Get off!” He kicked out, and the long, impossible finger cracked. At the sound, Ollie finally sprung into action, growling and snapping at the broken finger as it shot back into the man’s hand.

  “Ollie, no!” Gabe shouted as Ollie got snatched up in the man’s waiting arms.

  “That’s a sweetie pie,” the man said, a string of yellow drool dribbling down his chin. “You’re my sweetie now!”

  A sharp wind shook the hollow and drew the man and Ollie back toward the darkness of the trees. Gabe knew he had to act fast.

  “Give him back!” he said. For the second time in his life, he aimed a punch square at the man’s swollen face. To his surprise, his head flopped over as soon as his fist struck, like his neck was filled with rubber instead of bone. It bounced back and proceeded to ricochet to and fro as if on a spring.

  His stretchy arms squeezed tighter around Ollie, but Ollie wasn’t having any of that. He sank his teeth into the man’s flesh, just above the elbow, and scrambled free.

  “Oh dearie me, how rude!” said the man, patting the place where Ollie had bitten him. Instead of blood, there was just a hole where Ollie’s teeth had sunk in, and a gray space not far behind, like looking into a punctured balloon. And like a balloon, he began to whistle, his arms shriveling up one by one, until they were nothing but empty flaps of wrinkled skin.

  His legs flailed and his head beat against his shoulders in the building wind.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Gabe said. Ollie barked in agreement, and together they ran for the hedges.

  They had almost made it when the pointy tip of a leg pierced Gabe in the back. He cried out in pain and fell hard to the grass. Ollie seized the leg, tearing at it with his teeth, but it broke free, slithering around Gabe’s stomach.

  The violent gust that was sucking the man-thing back into the shadows grew stronger. He was hardly a man anymore, just a frayed piece of bubble gum flapping on the wind. Gabe clawed at the grass, trying to squirm free of the man’s grip, but it was no use.

  “Help me,” Gabe gasped. Ollie grabbed hold of Gabe’s T-shirt and dragged him as hard as he could toward the hedges. Only problem was, the leg wouldn’t let go and that wind was sucking the man as hard as it could back into darkness.

  “No!” he cried as the wind picked up, tearing him free from Ollie’s teeth. Next thing he knew, he was careening across the grass toward the gnarled trees and the cold, stinking blackness that lay beyond.

  “That’s about enough!” cried a voice from somewhere in the maelstrom. Just like that, the wind stopped, the man-thing snapped back into the shadows, more like a rubber band than a person, and a hand closed around Gabe’s shoulder.

  “I see you met our resident spook,” said Wynne, offering him a tired smile. “Or at least, one of them. I thought I told you to keep to the path.”

  “What was that thing?” Gabe spluttered.

  “I’ll explain inside,” Wynne said, ruffling Ollie’s hair with a sigh. His poor mutt was shaking something awful. “Come on, and this time don’t go running off.”

  No sooner had they all three sat down on the sofa than Wynne produced a steaming mug of hot chocolate from behind Gabe’s left ear. “Drink up, it’ll help with the shock.”

  Not surprised to find that he, too, was shaking, Gabe took a sip of steaming hot chocolate. It tasted just like the kind Gramps used to make, with dark chocolate and caramel and a hint of paprika. Warmth oozed down his spine into each of his limbs. Even Ollie, who was sitting in his lap, stopped shivering.

  “But what was that thing?” Gabe said again, after downing half of his mug.

  “Oh, that,” Wynne said, her eyes looking more tired than ever. “You see, Bone Hollow isn’t like other places. The world is different here. More … wobbly.”

  “Wobbly?”

  “Exactly, and sometimes things get through.”

  “From where?”

  Wynne shrugged, like getting attacked by stretchy ghosts with birds in their mouths was no big deal and Gabe should just get over it. “Not sure. Over there, I suppose. You know, the other side or whatever people call it. But don’t worry, they can’t hurt you.”

  “Wait a minute here, the other side? Like h-e-l-l other side?”

  “Not exactly.” Wynne nudged Gabe’s mug closer to his mouth. “Have another sip, it’ll make you feel better.”

  “Well, if it’s not h-e-l-l, then what do you call it?”r />
  “I don’t know, I’ve never really given it a name.”

  “What about the Dead Place?” Gabe said, an old memory bobbing suddenly to the surface of his mind.

  “What’s that?” Wynne smiled, amused.

  “Nothing, really. It’s just this place Gramps made up that was full of goblins and ghasts and people with giant wings like crows. He used to tell me all sorts of stories about it when I was little.”

  “The Dead Place, huh? I suppose it’s something like that, but like I said, they can’t hurt you.”

  “Are you sure?” Gabe remembered the pain of that pointy leg piercing his skin, but when he looked, there was no mark, not even a single red spot.

  “They’re not really here, you know? It’s more like they’re peeking, slipping through the cracks a little, but they can’t actually do any harm.”

  “If you say so,” Gabe said, downing the rest of his hot chocolate in a single gulp. He had to admit it did make him feel better, like his whole body was wrapped in a fuzzy winter sweater.

  They sat in silence while Wynne sipped quietly on her hot chocolate. After a bit, she went into the kitchen to make boiled eggs for Ollie, and Gabe couldn’t help turning around and watching her as she worked.

  He concentrated, hard, and after a while he was back at the old schoolhouse. “Millard Colored School,” said the hand-painted sign above the doorway. Wynne was out back, kicking a tin can against the wall. She wasn’t wearing her white dress anymore, but a dark gray wool coat and lace-up boots to match.

  Gabe stood right beside her as she kicked the can over and over. She looked at him once, but her eyes drifted through him to the doorway of the school beyond. The door had opened and people in gray and black suits filed out. The last to come was the woman Gabe had seen before, with her hair swept up in a tight bun. He guessed it was her mom. She placed an arm around Wynne’s shoulders and pulled her into a hug.