Bone Hollow

by Kim Ventrella

  “I’ll find you, boy, don’t worry!”

  So Gabe ran, banging into trees and cutting his feet on thorns and brambles. Over and over again, he called Ollie’s name, his heart swelling to the size of a balloon in his chest when he got no answer.

  “Why don’t you just hush up so I can hear!” he shouted at the crickets and the frogs, and lo and behold, there was a moment of quiet. As if the hordes of crawling creatures could feel the panic radiating from Gabe’s small, bony chest. In the silence that followed, Gabe listened for any sign of his dog. “Ollie!” he cried, and his voice carried through the woods. Surely, if Ollie were nearby, he would hear. Seconds ticked by, and then just as Gabe was about to call out again, a fresh round of thunder shook the treetops.

  All the normal nighttime sounds returned, louder than before, followed by sheets of rain. The warm droplets pelted Gabe’s face and ran down the back of his shirt. In that moment, Gabe felt worse than he had in his whole entire life. Even worse than the day he’d died trying to save that dang chicken. Worse than losing Mama and Daddy and Gramps, because protecting Ollie was up to him.

  He thought about sinking down into that mud and never getting up again, but that wouldn’t help find his dog. So despite the fear and hurt weighing down his gut, he started off again into the darkness, calling Ollie’s name. As he ran, the black trees darting past, he remembered another night racing through the woods, panic swelling up inside him.

  He’d been away at summer camp, and Miss Cleo, being Miss Cleo, had left Ollie out in a storm. That poor dog’d been so scared silly, he’d gone and hidden in a drainage pipe out behind the Bentons’ farm. Nobody could convince him to come out, not even Gramps, that’s how terrified he was.

  Finally, Gramps’d had to drive Gabe all the way home from Arkansas to rescue that poor ol’ pup. The whole car ride, panic had been building up in his chest so big he was surprised he didn’t explode.

  “Ollie!” Gabe cried again, more frightened than he’d ever been, even on that car ride back from Arkansas. “Come out, buddy, it’s okay!”

  The wind and rain and shadows ate up all his words.

  He had no light and no tracking skills and no idea where Ollie had gone. He could be anywhere, injured or caught in a trap or worse.

  “Ollie, please come back!”

  Just then, the rain turned to hard pellets the size of golf balls that plunked off the tree trunks.

  “Awoo!” A shrill cry cut through the beating hail.

  It was Ollie, it had to be, and he sounded hurt. Gabe followed the sound, running wild and blind, barely feeling the hard balls of ice strike his face.

  “Please, Lord, if you’re really up there, help me find my dog. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll pray every night and read my Bible and everything, Lord. Please, please, please!”

  Gabe ran and prayed for what seemed like hours, not getting any closer to finding his dog, until finally a faint, silvery light appeared up ahead.

  As if by magic, the storm seemed to subside the closer he got to the light. The air grew cooler and the sticky humidity was replaced by droplets of silver mist. Everything in the woods went quiet, or at least that’s how it seemed. Even the leaves grew still, and not a single wing beat. Gabe stepped closer, his run slowed to a dazed walk.

  Surely, it couldn’t be. He couldn’t have run around for days only to end up in the place where he’d started. But it was.

  A tinkling music drifted on the air. Clink, clink, clink. Gabe smiled. And tears, impossible tears, streamed down his cheeks out of pure relief. Because mixed in with the eerie music was another sound. A happy barking coming from beyond the next row of trees.

  Gabe stepped out of the shadows into the cool light of Bone Hollow. And even though he was scared and he hated Death more than he ever had, he couldn’t help laughing. There was Ollie, huddled up in Wynne’s arms, grinning and yapping and kissing her face as fast as he could.

  And she didn’t look scary, not anymore. Her rich brown hair sparkled in the moonlight, like it was set with hundreds of tiny diamonds instead of raindrops. She was laughing, a weak, friendly sort of laughter, like someone who hadn’t had a good laugh in a very long time.

  A few days ago, Gabe would have shivered and turned right back around, after snatching his dog, that is. But if he knew one thing, it was that Ollie had never come to anyone besides him in a storm, not even his very own gramps, and Gramps was the person Gabe had trusted more than anyone in the whole entire world. Wynne might be strange and mysterious and a little scary, but if Ollie trusted her more than Gramps, then she couldn’t be bad. She just couldn’t.

  Wynne spotted him before he’d even peeked out from the trees. She offered him a sad but relieved smile, and then Ollie must have sniffed him, too, because he bounded through the trees and into his arms. His cast was gone, of course, but his leg looked better than Gabe had expected. The skin covering the wound had already closed up, and he wasn’t even running on three legs anymore. There was something strange about the way he moved, or was it the way he looked? And who had ever seen a broken leg heal so fast? Gabe scrunched up his forehead, trying to figure it out, but then Ollie started licking inside his ears, and he decided it didn’t matter. As long as he had Ollie back, everything would be alright.

  “I love you, boy. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  Ollie was glad, too, because he wiggled and slurped and generally loved on Gabe as hard as a dog could.

  “You came back,” Wynne said quietly as Gabe crossed the grass toward her, Ollie licking happily at his ankles. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

  “I wasn’t sure, either.” Gabe stared at his muddy bare feet, trying to think of something to say. The truth was, he wasn’t only happy to have his dog back. He was happy to be here, in Bone Hollow. It felt like home, even after everything that had happened. Gathering up his courage, Gabe made himself look Wynne straight in the eyes. “I know you didn’t kill that man … Did you?”

  He held his breath, waiting for Wynne to answer.

  “No, silly, of course I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t think so.” Relief washed over him, and he smiled for the first time in days.

  They stood for a moment in silence.

  “This doesn’t change anything, though. I’m not … I can’t be what you want me to be.” Living in Bone Hollow was one thing, but taking someone away to the other side, even if it wasn’t technically killing, was something else altogether. “I believe you didn’t hurt that man, but I can’t be like you. I won’t.”

  Wynne didn’t answer, but her cheeks had gone the color of ash.

  “It must get lonely out here,” Gabe said. “Living in the woods all by yourself.”

  “But now I’ve got you.” Wynne’s lips flickered into a tentative smile. “You will stay, won’t you? At least for a while.”

  Gabe looked down at Ollie, who was full of energy again, chasing his tail round and round, like the past few days had never happened. He wouldn’t stay forever, and he wouldn’t be like Wynne, but it sure felt good to be home. “For a while,” he said, unable to stop himself from smiling.

  “I’m so glad you’re back,” Wynne said. She took his hand, and Gabe found that she was blushing. She didn’t seem to notice the drizzling rain that dripped down her cheeks and onto her dress. “How about some hot chocolate?”

  Gabe didn’t know if he was making the right decision, but it sure felt right. Besides, at Wynne’s words, Ollie bounded across the grass and straight through the front door of Wynne’s cottage. “I guess that’s a yes.”

  Wynne laughed. The musical sound tinkled in Gabe’s ears. “Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hand.

  “For what?”

  She didn’t answer. Ollie barked at them from inside the house, darting back and forth from the doorway to the kitchen.

  “I guess we’d better go inside,” said Gabe, rain dribbling down his nose, into his mouth.

  “Last one there’s a pickled egg,” Wynne said,
and together they ran for the candlelit cottage, leaving behind the fog and the shadows and the dwindling bands of rain.

  The hot chocolate tasted even better than it had before. Gabe and Wynne sat on the porch swing, holding their mugs in one hand and rubbing Ollie’s belly with the other. For his part, Gabe was pretty sure Ollie had never been so happy in his whole doggie life. Two people giving him a belly rub at the exact same time was just about too much for him to handle.

  “I owe you an explanation,” Wynne said, staring intently at her mug.

  Gabe watched the steam drifting off the top of his hot chocolate.

  “It’s been so long since I was your age, I guess I forgot what a shock it would be.”

  Gabe looked into Wynne’s eyes and saw an old type of weariness there, like the kind Gramps sometimes wore after a hard day’s work. Only, seeing that look on a face as young as hers was something different altogether. It made him sad.

  “How old are you, anyway?” Gabe said. “How long have you been …”

  “Too old,” she said, fixing her eyes back on her mug. “I should have told you right away, I know that now.” She drew in a deep breath, and Gabe had an inkling she might start to cry. “I never was very good at getting things right. Even way back when.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” Gabe said, and Ollie settled his head on Wynne’s lap.

  “Thanks.” She smiled, rubbing Ollie’s chin. “That helps.”

  The flutes chimed overhead, sending a spray of chilly water onto Gabe’s toes. “And how did you become … you know … Death?”

  “Oh.” She drew in a sharp breath. “We don’t have to talk about that now, if you don’t want.”

  “I think I need to know.” He was here, after all, instead of floating in the clouds somewhere, and he needed to understand why.

  Wynne blew on her hot chocolate awhile before answering. “I died, like you. Only …”

  “You weren’t really dead?”

  “Exactly.” Wynne smiled into her mug. “Anyway, after a few days I got up again and just kept going. Mama and Papa hid me in the cellar, to keep me away from prying eyes, but I couldn’t stay hidden down there forever.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “One night, real late, Mama heard a tapping on the back door. She didn’t dare open it, fearing one of the neighbors had discovered my secret, but then we all heard this voice calling through the keyhole. ‘Open up now,’ it said. ‘Don’t leave your old granny out in the cold.’ Well, Granny was Mama’s gran, not mine, and she’d died before I was born. Mama opened up the door, hands shaking, but sure enough she recognized Granny and ran into her arms.”

  “But it wasn’t Granny, was it?” Gabe said, remembering how Wynne had looked like Niko the first time they’d met.

  “No, it was. And she told Mama and Papa how I had to go with her, for good, and how they wouldn’t be seeing me again. They took an awful lot of convincing, but finally they understood.”

  “And you?”

  “Oh, I was kicking and screaming most of the way, but as soon as I saw Bone Hollow, I knew it couldn’t be all that bad.”

  Gabe finished his hot chocolate, wishing he had about ten more glasses. He sighed, and when he looked down at his mug again it was filled to the top with bubbling hot liquid.

  “I think I know what you mean.” He held the mug close to his lips, letting the steam warm his face. No matter how scared he got, how much he didn’t understand, Bone Hollow still felt like home.

  “So your granny was Death, too, then,” Gabe said, trying to wrap his mind around it. “And what exactly does Death do?”

  “Sometimes, when things die, they need a little help moving on.”

  “Help? What kind of help?”

  “Not much,” Wynne said. “Just a nudge in the right direction.”

  “And you can do that? Give ’em a nudge, I mean?”

  Wynne nodded, turning her sparkling, silvery eyes on him. “But don’t worry. No one can force you to become Death; not even Gran could have done that. You have to decide for yourself.”

  Gabe thought that over, listening to the last droplets of rain sprinkling the awning overhead.

  “I really am glad you’re back,” Wynne said, her eyes lingering on Gabe’s. Just then, in the moonlight, he didn’t think he’d seen anyone’s eyes look more tired or lonely or relieved. He was just wondering how so many emotions could live in one person all at the same time when her eyes drifted to the treetops and Gabe saw a yellow flame burning in the distance.

  “Is that for you?” Gabe said.

  Wynne nodded slowly, setting her mug on the ground.

  “You be good,” she said to Ollie, kissing his head and letting him slobber a little on her chin.

  She got up shakily and stood there for a while gaining her balance.

  “Maybe you should stay and drink some more hot chocolate,” Gabe said, watching how her thin body swayed back and forth in the wind.

  “I’ll feel better in the morning.” She offered a weak smile. “Now you two get some rest. You’ve had a long night.”

  “What about you?” Gabe said, but Wynne was already walking away.

  Ollie leapt up and followed her across the yard, doing his best to herd her heels, like they were nothing but skinny, naked sheep. Wynne laughed, if you could call it that, and then she said, “Dinner’s in the kitchen.”

  “But …”

  Gabe was about to offer his assistance, but he couldn’t force the words out of his mouth. Even though he could tell she needed his help, and he knew she wasn’t hurting anyone, not really. He just couldn’t. Death was still his enemy, even now.

  Wynne didn’t spin around or disappear in a cloud of smoke. She just trudged up the hill separating Bone Hollow from the rest of the woods, moving as if each step took every ounce of her energy.

  “You’ll be here when I get back?” she said, turning around at the top of the hill, her dress pale in the moonlight.

  “You can count on it,” he said, and he meant every word. Wynne was strange and confusing and a little creepy, but the judgment of a good dog was more than enough for him. Besides, Bone Hollow was his home, at least for a little while.

  So, Gabe and Ollie went inside, and he found a tray of all his favorite foods sitting on the kitchen counter. Roast beef and ham, spicy chicken strips and double jalapeño pizza with pepperoni on the side.

  He hadn’t even realized he’d been hungry till he saw all that delicious food. He took the tray into the living room and set it on the steamer trunk. Before he gorged himself like he had the night he’d arrived at Bone Hollow, he at least stopped long enough to say his prayers. He had no idea if you still had to pray once you were dead, but he figured it couldn’t hurt.

  “Dear Lord, if you’re up there, thanks again for saving my dog. I don’t know about all this Death stuff, but I reckon Wynne is one of yours either way.”

  Gabe could hear Ollie snarfling while he was supposed to be taking a moment of silence.

  “What are you doing?” Gabe snapped his eyes open, only to find Ollie halfway through a giant slice of roast beef.

  “You can’t eat that food, you dang hound. Remember what Wynne said. That food’s only for dead people.”

  But Ollie gobbled it up and then sat there wiggling his bottom, an innocent look on his face. Gabe felt Ollie’s forehead, just to make sure, but he seemed alive and well to him. “Don’t be silly,” he said aloud to himself. “There must be something different about this food, that’s all.”

  So they chowed down together, and when the tray was empty, they curled up on the sofa and went to sleep, the candles overhead flickering with soft yellow light. Wynne didn’t return home the next morning or the next afternoon. A fresh tray of food appeared on the old steamer trunk around lunchtime, and though he was worried about Wynne, both he and Ollie had their fill.

  When they were finished, they decided to go outside and check the grounds. The cool mist tickled Gabe’s nose, and
Ollie kept sneezing and then wiggling his bottom so much he started turning in circles. Gabe thought about going to look for Wynne over by where the flame had been, but seeing as she’d probably used the ghost tunnel, it would be impossible to find her. Instead, he decided to wait for her by the pond.

  He fashioned a lead for Ollie out of an old bit of rope he found behind the cottage. He tied it around Ollie’s belly instead of his neck, so he wouldn’t choke, and off they went to find the pond. The path looked much the same as it had a few days before, but not exactly. Gabe was almost certain that some of the trees had switched places. Flowers that had only stood a few inches high towered almost as tall as Gabe’s head. And the nook where the tall man had nearly kidnapped Ollie was overgrown with bloodred roses, their long stems thick with thorns.

  “This might be harder than I thought,” Gabe said, but no sooner had he said it than he turned a corner and there was the pond, sitting peaceful and still, just the way he remembered it.

  Gabe sat down, and Ollie climbed into his lap. There were still two fishing poles, and he picked up his and cast the rubber worm into the water. He sat there fishing for a while, rubbing Ollie’s bottom and his tummy and his long, thin nose. He didn’t catch anything, and after a while his lids started to droop under the late-afternoon sun. He was just about to drift off to sleep when he saw Gramps’s face floating behind his eyes. He didn’t think it was a dream, since he could still feel the cool breeze on his face, but he could see Gramps, too, lying in his sickbed. He could see how he coughed, and the look on his face when Wynne—Gran—walked into the room. He wasn’t scared, not the way Gabe had expected him to be, and he definitely wasn’t alone.

  Gabe shook off the pull of sleep, and when he blinked, there was someone sitting next to him.

  “You sure do sleep a lot,” she said, her eyes twinkling. She looked just about more tired than anyone Gabe had ever seen, her gray eyes sinking back in her skull and her hands shaking from the effort it took to sit up.