Colin and The Rise of The House of Horwood
Page 26
Chapter Ten: The Wind
Colin, Spike, and Melissa were outside raking leaves. They had been told to play. And they were playing, even though six oversized garden bags bulged with their rakings. None of them could remember a time when they didn’t help with the chores, but they were well acquainted with play, what Grizzelda called “off time” and Grandfather Thunder called “making the Creator smile”. They knew how to have fun and they had been laughing and goofing around, doing what comes naturally to every kid around huge piles of leaves, but the filled garden bags gave them a feeling of satisfaction as well.
They had started outside the kitchen and worked around to the front of the house. As they came within view of the unfinished marble statue, they froze in place. The statue had changed. Someone had been at work on it, carving. The block of marble had been chiseled away revealing two long black armored legs. How this had been done with the invisible guard things on the grounds at night, they had no idea.
The cool October breeze swirled some of the leaves out of the pile by their feet, buffeting their clothes and hair. In the absence of any clues, all they could do was gape at the statue.
Sunlight, a small flash, reflected from a window on the second floor of the house. It was Grizzelda looking down at them from their bedroom window, one of her earrings catching the sun’s rays. She smiled and waved. Her lengthy sleep due to the large dose of the powdered root had been exactly what she’d needed; when she awoke she was a different person. Grizzelda’s joy seemed boundless. Yet, it was so over the top, so foreign to them, they felt extremely uncomfortable in her presence and tried to avoid her. They should have known it was fruitless to try. She was everywhere! She careened about the house throwing out compliments and cheeriness with ravenous abandon. Grizzelda unlatched the window and it swung open.
“Wonderful day! Isn’t it, children?” she called down cheerily. “You’re doing such a wonderful job! It’s time for you to stop. Dinner is ready.” She almost sang out the last words, waving at them to come in, then shut the window and disappeared from view.
Colin noted Spike and Melissa’s accusing eyes aimed squarely at him.
“What? You’d prefer her moping around all day making everyone feel miserable? I’m sorry, all right?”
Spike had still not forgiven Colin for signing him up to play indoor soccer, and now with this new “improved” aunt and the invisible guard things…
Grizzelda, instead of seeking to be alone, now actively sought their company. No matter where they were, she would appear. She’d go on for days about the smallest point of kindness; once she spouted an ode to the kindness of a layer of grime that Colin had been trying to remove, saying something about its ‘divine purpose.’ Colin was still trying to puzzle that one out. As if that wasn’t enough, when they tried to talk to her, all she would do was nod her head and say ‘ah’, as though she was listening, but Colin knew nothing was connecting behind those glassy eyes. Grizzelda had moved from the Dark Side to the Feather-light Side. Colin’s helpful imagination conjured a pie chart of his aunt’s shaky emotional makeup, complete with an alarm bell clanging away.
Another fun aspect about life at Horwood House was the guard things at night. The boys had now obtained Grizzelda’s blessing to continue with indoor soccer, so they didn’t have to sneak out any longer. However, the guard things were becoming hungrier, making trips out of the house at night almost impossible. On their most recent outing, they had required several steaks to get out and back in safely.
Ofelia opened the front door and stepped out onto the portico to say something. There was a mute pleading in her eyes, but she didn’t have a chance to speak the words on her mind. Grizzelda’s arms tenderly wrapped around her from behind and gently tugged her back inside.
“We better get in there before she comes out for us too,” said Spike warily. “So, who do you think did it?”
“The statue? I don’t know, but we have to find out,” responded Colin.
“It feels a bit creepy – just what I like,” said Spike, hesitating before grinning. “I bet Sergeant Peary knows.”
Colin thought about it. “He probably does, but I don’t think he can tell us anything, even if he wanted to.”
A weird, festive atmosphere permeated the dining room; even the flowers, centered on the table, smelled happy. It was odd, considering that no one, except Grizzelda, was giving off much in the way of happy vibrations. In fact, it was clear from Ofelia’s expression that she was deeply concerned about Grizzelda’s manic behavior.
“Sorry,” whispered Colin to Ofelia, feeling guilty.
“I don’t think it’s all due to the root,” she answered back quietly, patting Colin’s back. “It’s almost as if she is willing herself to be this happy.”
Colin immediately thought about the Shadow Nix that had slipped inside their aunt and he wondered if this was a way, assisted by the Narcissiflorus Somnifera, of fighting it.
Grizzelda waltzed in from the kitchen, a big, covered platter balanced on her shoulder and the fingertips of her right hand. Her eyes were glittering, reflecting the fountain of stars coursing on her black dress.
At the head of the table, sitting on several large books, so it could reach the table, was the Marcus doll. It had a smile on its plastic lips. Its baldpate glittered in the candlelight. They had no idea what a doll was doing at the table.
With a deft flourish of hand, Grizzelda removed the silver top of the platter, revealing several burnt cheese sandwiches. One by one she placed the blackened sandwiches onto their plates, saving the last sandwich for the plate in front of the Marcus doll. It was bizarre, but it appeared she expected the doll to eat. Grizzelda, full of guileless satisfaction, pulled her own chair up to the table and placed her serviette properly on her lap. She reached for her glass of juice and lifted it high.
“Before we begin, I’d like to make a toast. To good friends and good food.”
Colin, and everyone else, hesitantly lifted their glasses, sniffed the liquid and took a cautious sip. Good friends and food are essential, but this was just -- weird. After the uncomfortable toast, they set about carving their way through the charred cheese sandwiches on their plates. Even Spike, who had been known to like everything put on his plate, was finding this dinner difficult. Every bite he took had to be washed down with several swallows of liquid. Colin had lost his appetite, although he did wonder if the charcoal on the sandwich would taste the same as the charcoal of burnt wood, not that he had any intention of consuming charcoal from either to settle the question.
Colin’s eyes had been so fixed on his own plate that when he looked up he was shocked to see that the plate in front of the Marcus doll had been picked clean. He reassured himself that Grizzelda had to have eaten it herself. The doll remained inanimate, but to his surprise, its expression had changed. It not only had a satiated smirk on its face, but also a few crumbs.
“As you all know, Halloween is almost upon us,” said Grizzelda as she stood up, her eyes shining as she rubbed her hands together with glee. She had eaten her sandwich ravenously.
“I would like to invite you all to a party!”
This caught them by such surprise that Spike, who often sat on the corner of his chair, slipped off it and fell with a crash to the floor.
Out of one of her deep pockets she pulled a handful of letters and quickly danced about the table distributing them. Then without further comment, she swept up the doll, coddled it in the crook of her arm and, giggling, swirled out of the room. The little white lights on her black dress were now forming lively dancing lines.
Colin noticed that both Ofelia and Melissa looked extremely relieved as they revealed what was hiding under their suspiciously lumpy napkins on their laps.
“That’s not fair!” complained Spike, “I ate the whole thing!”
Colin opened his invitation and read it:
You are cordially invited
To th
e
All Hallows Eve
Celebration,
At Bevise, Bunk & Tellings Funeral Home,
On October 31.
Festivities to begin at 10 p.m.
Costume Dress.
R.S.V.P. no later than October 26.
“We’re really being invited to a party?” asked Spike as he looked up from the engraved, white card, amazement written on his face.
“I guess so,” answered Colin, with just as much astonishment.