The Haunting of Gabriel Ashe

by Poblocki, Dan

  “Mystery?” he said, purposely examining his pruned hands.

  “Of the party monster,” Mazzy said, lowering her voice to a grumble and turning her fingers into little talons.

  “Maybe someone was angry about not being invited.”

  “But who?”

  “Got me. I don’t know anyone in this town.”

  Mazzy stared at him, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not quite true.”

  A name floated into Gabe’s head. Another wave of chills overcame him. These, however, had nothing to do with the evening air.

  After Dolores arrived, Gabe placed his grandmother’s bike into the car’s trunk. He thanked Mazzy and promised to get the T-shirt back to her soon.

  During the drive up into the hills, Dolores mentioned that Seth had called looking for him that afternoon.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him to find you at the pool party.” Gabe clutched the car seat. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d invited him.”

  “I kinda never got around to it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well…turns out that he and Felicia don’t really get along.”

  Dolores sighed. “He sounded upset,” she said. “Did he show up?”

  “I didn’t see him there.” Gabe glanced at the soaking mess of his towel and clothes wrapped in a ball in the backseat.

  “I’m sorry if I messed up,” she said. “Just…be prepared to answer his questions, you know, in case you see him again soon.”

  Gabe breathed out slowly. “Oh, I’m sure I will.”

  THE TWO ROBBER PRINCES SLINKED through the hallways of Slayhool, the shadow market in a traders’ village just outside of Haliath. Having chanted a charm-spell before stepping inside, they held their breath to remain mostly invisible. The hint of magic seemed to be working. So far, no one paid any attention to them. All around them, the crowds trudged along, moving through the passageways like sludge through rusted drainpipes.

  Wraithen had asked Meatpie to be his lookout during a secret errand. So Meatpie followed several paces behind, glancing around at a multitude of unfamiliar and indifferent-looking faces, keeping watch for anyone who appeared to be harboring any hostility. The Robber Princes had driven several unscrupulous characters out of the borderland forest, and it was possible that those villains were now hiding in Slayhool. If they spotted the boys, there would be trouble, to say the least.

  Meatpie had been to Slayhool only once before, under his parents’ insistence, to familiarize himself with the shadow market—a notoriously dangerous area filled with nefarious tradesmen who were known to hold on to a grudge even tighter than they would a pouch of gold. During that first visit, a powerful warden had guided Meatpie safely through the nearly empty market, but this morning, people pushed and cursed at one another, and the warden was nowhere to be found.

  Several days had passed since the incident at the Altar of the Crooked Tree, when a disembodied voice had warned Meatpie not to disturb the pile of rocks. Wraithen claimed that the warning had come from a forest spirit who was bound in service to the Hunter—a sign that they’d been on the right track.

  There had been whispers throughout Haliath that a hulking silhouette had been seen lurking in alleyways late at night, watching families through windows, and growling at dogs with enough vehemence to send them running with their tails between their legs. The Hunter was toying with the boys, they knew, and it was only a matter of time before he stole another child.

  Wraithen stopped outside a grimy wooden door. “Wait out here,” he whispered. A sign posted on the wall was marked with a few crossed lines attached to a circle, a rudimentary symbol that resembled a tall man. “And remember the warning knock. Three, pause, then one.” He opened the door and slipped inside.

  Meatpie kept a lookout, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. He ran his fingers through his hair, then unclasped the top button of his shirt. He brushed at his pants, and made sure that his shoes were still tied. All the while, the crowds continued to pass as if he truly were invisible. He couldn’t remember why he’d allowed Seth to talk him into this…

  …especially on the first day of school.

  Surely, the bell would be ringing soon. He had a fair idea of where his homeroom was, but he’d wanted to get there early to find a seat near the back of the class.

  “Gabe!” cried a voice.

  He jumped, slamming his shoulder into the bathroom door.

  Mazzy stood in front of him, wearing a huge smile. “How’s your first day going so far?”

  “Just got here.” Gabe sighed, wishing it were possible to erase the intense blush that marked his cheeks. “Hasn’t really started yet.”

  “Duh,” she said, poking his chest. “Who do you have for homeroom?”

  Gabe fumbled a slip of paper from his jeans pocket. He unfolded it and read, “Mrs. Applebaum?”

  “Me too! Room A3. I’m on my way there. Come on. We can walk together.”

  Gabe glanced back at the door he was supposed to be guarding. “I have to wait for—” The first warning bell chimed, igniting the other students into a frenzy. Lockers slammed, voices raised, and a few kids dashed down the hallway, careening into others, who called out obscenities in response.

  Mazzy shrugged. “I think that means we have like a minute or something.” She turned, but when Gabe didn’t follow, she paused. “Oh, wait. You said you’re waiting for someone?”

  Gabe glanced at the door again. Quickly, he reached up and pounded the secret knock that Seth had made him memorize. One, two, three. Pause. And then one final knock that rattled the hinges. After several seconds, he turned back to Mazzy and said, “Not anymore.”

  AFTER HOMEROOM, THE MORNING WENT QUICKLY. Gabe’s mind raced as he located each classroom, met his teachers, and accumulated a pile of heavy textbooks. The distraction of Slayhool had faded. There were so many staring eyes, so many faces he didn’t recognize, that he considered crawling into his locker and closing the door. He felt alone and lost, and he clutched his heavy backpack as if it were a talisman of protection. He tried to remember the kindness with which the kids at the pool party had greeted him, but so far, he hadn’t seen any of them.

  Halfway through the day, Gabe glanced at his schedule and realized it was time to head to the cafeteria. As he stepped through the doors into the harsh fluorescent light that filled the cavernous room, his throat grew dry and scratchy. In his old school, this had been the time of day he’d dreaded most, when the name-calling had been the worst. In fact, last year, Gabe had taken to eating lunch alone in a dark corner of the auditorium. It was the only way to avoid the constant chant of, Puppet Boy! C’mere, Puppet Boy! Are you a real boy? Prove it! At least here no one knew him.

  “Gabe!”

  Squinting, he noticed Felicia, Ingrid, and Malcolm waving from a booth near a window. Cautiously, he made his way to them, watching for anyone carrying a precarious lunch tray. Malcolm scooted over and patted the seat.

  “Thanks,” said Gabe with a sigh of relief.

  Mazzy and Seth must have had another lunch period.

  “So,” said Felicia. She gripped the edge of the table and leaned toward him dramatically. “Day one. How goes it?”

  Gabe was unsure if she expected him to be nonchalant or excited or disappointed or disgusted. Thinking quickly, he settled on “Fine, so far.”

  Felicia smiled. “Fine is good,” she said. The way her voice lifted up, almost like she was singing, made Gabe laugh out loud. “If I could go through the rest of my life feeling just fine, I’d be perfectly happy.”

  “Liar,” teased Malcolm.

  Felicia waved the comment away as if it were a gnat. She seemed to have forgotten how upset she’d been two days ago.

  Yesterday morning, Seth had called Gabe and asked if he wanted to get together again. If he’d been upset about the pool party, he didn’t let on. Dolores ended up driving the boys to a local shopping center to pick up some last-minute school sup
plies. As they’d wandered a department store aisle, perusing ballpoint pens, unspoken secrets seemed to hang between them. Later that evening, when Seth had phoned about an expedition to “Slayhool” in the morning, Gabe had agreed if only to appease him.

  Gabe unpacked his brown-bag lunch, and Malcolm and Ingrid warned him which teachers to watch out for and which ones to brownnose. They told him the quickest routes among the many sections of the building, as well as the best places to just sit and chill out. Throughout the period, a number of kids stopped by the booth to say hello. With every introduction, his discomfort diminished, and soon he felt like he’d won the lottery. Was he actually part of a popular crowd?

  Then Felicia squinted at him and said, “So Mazzy Lerman says you’re friends with Seth Hopper.”

  Gabe felt the blood drain from his face. “We’re neighbors.”

  “Careful with him,” said Ingrid.

  “He’s weird,” added Malcolm.

  “Seth?” Gabe played dumb. “Weird how?”

  “He mumbles to himself all the time,” said Felicia. “I’ve never heard him, but some people say it’s like another language.”

  “And he can be a real jerk,” said Ingrid. “If you happen to look at him at the wrong moment, he’ll stare back at you like he wants to stab you or something. Totally creepy.”

  “Really?” Gabe asked, truly surprised. “He’s been nice to me so far….I guess I don’t know him that well,” he added quickly.

  “You don’t want to know him,” said Felicia. “Trust me.”

  Gabe thought about how welcoming Seth had been when they’d first met. And despite Seth’s intense passion for their game in the woods, Gabe couldn’t deny that their adventures had become a fun distraction, an escape from every bad thought Gabe had brought with him to Slade.

  “He’s been through a lot lately,” Gabe said. “I’m not saying it’s an excuse, but his mom’s been sick. And you guys heard what happened with his older brother last year, right?”

  They all nodded, but their expressions remained the same. Apparently, nothing would change their opinion of Seth.

  “My older sister, Becca, says his brother was just as strange as Seth is,” Ingrid chimed in. “She told me he was always talking about this fantasy world he’d invented, warning the other freshmen about some sort of monster. I mean…Wow!” She guffawed. “Becca said he called the monster a strange name….The Warrior?”

  “Not the Warrior,” Gabe said quietly. “The Hunter.”

  Ingrid pointed at him, surprised. “Yes! That was it! The Hunter. How did you know?”

  “Seth mentioned it to me,” Gabe said. “The Hunter…the fantasy world. He and his brother must have talked about it with each other.” As the words escaped his lips, Gabe realized that Seth hadn’t been making up the game as they went along. There’d been more to it than a couple of kids wasting time at the end of summer. David had played too, probably with his little brother. He’d run away, but he’d left something behind—a fantastic world in the woods, haunted by the hulking shadow of a beast, separated from the reality of life in Slade by a thin veil of imagination and memory that belonged to a boy no one really knew. His little brother. Seth. Wraithen of Haliath. The Robber Prince.

  Malcolm scoffed. “So lame.”

  Felicia smacked his shoulder. “Have some compassion. The kid’s big brother is missing.”

  Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Seriously? Do you want to invite him to sit with us at lunch tomorrow?” He glanced toward the cafeteria entrance. He emitted a harsh snort of surprise. “There he is! I’ll go get him.” Malcolm went to stand, but Felicia simply reached up and touched his shoulder, lowering him back to the bench as if she contained a hidden strength. She glanced around the table, silently demanding quiet. Gabe got it: No one was to invite Seth to do any such thing. But Felicia couldn’t keep them from peering across the chaotic room toward the entrance.

  Seth stood in the doorway, an emblem of stillness, his skinny frame rigid, his face a blank mask staring back.

  Ingrid gasped, ducked, and turned away. “He’s looking at us.”

  The bell chimed, and the cafeteria erupted in a clamor of voices. Trembling, Gabe shoveled the uneaten portion of his lunch into his paper bag. By the time he glimpsed the double doors again, Seth had disappeared.

  LATER, AS HE CLIMBED THE STAIRS onto bus #5, Gabe smiled to himself. He’d survived the first day.

  At his seat near the back, the air felt like a furnace. He reached up and fiddled with the window latch. The pane dragged open slowly, scraping an obnoxious cry that made the hair on his neck stand up. He stuck his head out the window and breathed deeply.

  “Gabe!” a voice called. “Hey!”

  Gabe glanced around. Mazzy galloped over to the bus.

  “Hey!” he answered, calling down to her. “I couldn’t find you inside.”

  “It’s a madhouse,” she said. “No worries. Felicia’s having some people over this afternoon. She told me to invite you.”

  “Really? Me?”

  Mazzy chuckled, and he realized how dumb he sounded. “Yes, really. You.”

  “I’d like to,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment, “but my mom’s expecting me home.”

  “You can’t call her?”

  “First day check-in. You know?”

  “I know,” said Mazzy, shrugging. “I have it easier since I can walk home from here. No fancy buses for me.”

  “Oh yeah,” Gabe said, laughing, “this bus is so fancy. Green vinyl seats are the epitome of luxury.”

  “Anyway…I just thought I’d ask. Felicia’s gonna be sad. I’ll tell her you’ll tag along some other time?”

  “Definitely.”

  Gabe felt a pair of fingers walking up his spine. Jolting upright, he nearly knocked his skull on the windowsill. Seth stood behind him, frozen in an awkward pose, having just yanked his hand away. “Sorry,” he said through his teeth. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Gabe blinked. “That’s okay,” he said. He glanced back out the window to find that Mazzy had already rushed away with a group of girls who were heading down the sidewalk. He watched her blonde hair swing between her shoulder blades, softly reflecting the afternoon light—a halo contained within a greasy fingerprint on the glass.

  Seth sat next to him. “Who was that?”

  “Mazzy? We met at the school orientation last week. She’s new too.”

  “She’s pretty,” said Seth, biting the inside of his mouth.

  “Yeah, I guess,” said Gabe. The bus had gotten crowded. He raised his voice over the din. “She’s nice too.”

  “You’ll introduce me?” said Seth. “I mean…I want to meet your other friends.”

  Gabe didn’t like the way Seth had said other friends. It sounded hostile. “Sure,” he replied, his voice cracking. “I think she’d like you.”

  The driver shut the door. The bus shuddered into gear. Seth slouched down in the seat. “I doubt it,” he said matter-of-factly. “In the end, nobody does.”

  The bus pulled away from the curb. Gabe thought of what everyone at lunch had been saying about Seth, that he was a weirdo, a freak. He knew what it felt like to be in that position. The worst thing Seth could do was agree with them. “If you keep saying stuff like that, it’s possible that nobody ever will,” said Gabe. Seth glared at him, and Gabe immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry,” he added. “You’ve got to give yourself more credit though. You’re really fun to hang out with, but if you go around thinking everyone has it out for you, they’re going to start believing that they actually do.”

  “You don’t see it yet,” said Seth, wearing an almost smirk. “Those kids you were sitting with at lunch…They’re the worst.”

  Gabe closed his eyes. He’d known this was coming.

  “A while ago,” Seth went on, “we were all friends. Then things started to change. Bit by bit. First, they started to make fun of my clothes. Then it was the way I talk. Then it was the way I played vol
leyball or tennis or football in PE. And I know they’ve done other stuff that I can’t prove. Stolen my homework before I could turn it in. Written things on my locker. They’ve laughed at me in the hallways more times than I can count. And they say I’m the creepy one because I ‘look at them funny.’ No.” His voice started to wobble. “I’m not the one with the problem. They are.”

  Gabe thought Seth might as well have replaced they with you.

  “In my old school, kids did the same things to me,” said Gabe, slowly.

  Seth’s mouth dropped open. “You? Why?”

  Gabe shook his head. “People like to pick on whoever they think might be…weak. They think it makes them look stronger.” He nudged Seth with his elbow. “You’re not weak. And, after hunting the Hunter with you, I know that I’m not either.” He paused. “I’ve never told anyone this, but…I’m almost glad about the fire.”

  Seth’s look of shock was almost cartoonish—eyebrows scrunched together, head tilted, shoulders raised, eyes bugged out.

  “It got me out of there,” said Gabe.

  Seth leaned close and grabbed Gabe’s arm. “If this happened to you, how could you possibly want to hang out with Felicia and her gang of vicious little robots?”

  Gabe didn’t know how to answer. He understood why Felicia felt the way she did about Seth, but he also got Seth’s point of view. “Mazzy introduced me,” Gabe said finally. “She lives next to Felicia.” He pulled his arm away from Seth’s grip. “They’ve all been really nice.”

  “But I was nice to you first,” said Seth. “And we have our game. What do they have, besides dumb pool parties?” When Gabe turned red, Seth went on. “Yeah, your mom told me about it when I called the other day. I hope it was fun.”

  The bus swerved as it made its way up the hill toward their houses. It jerked to a stop, and a large group of kids got off. Gabe began to feel nauseous. “Yeah, it was,” he whispered. “Lots of fun.” Then, if only to change the subject, he asked, “So, what else are the Robber Princes up to today?”