by Meg Macy
I pushed Holly out of my mind. Focus, on everything but her.
Chapter 16
“Hey,” Lauren said, breaking into my thoughts. “Once this event is over, I’d like to show you something. Believe me, you’ll love it.”
“Sure, but what is it?”
“I’d rather surprise you. Trust me, it’s fabulous.”
Her friendly enthusiasm cheered my spirits. My sister chatted with Emma Richardson while parents and grandparents lifted kids to find bears in the trees. Lauren handed bags to those who found their bears. I watched with delight, enjoying how kids compared bears or traded for a different color fur. At last everyone seemed satisfied, adults and children. They soon headed off toward the next event of the day.
“I’m glad that’s done.” Maddie touched my arm. “You’re going to see Jay’s bear tonight, right? I’m stuck helping Kip again. I swear, if we don’t finish tonight, I’m giving up.”
“I’ll ask Lauren for a ride, and that way you can take the car,” I said.
“Thanks, Sash. Tell Jay congrats for me.”
Maddie headed to the parking lot. I caught up with Lauren, who retrieved candy wrappers and other trash. Together we collected litter and tossed it in the nearest trash bin.
“So what’s this surprise you want me to see?”
“The haunted maze? This way, come on!”
I balked. “Uh—”
“Jay carved something,” she said, coaxing me. “You gotta see it.”
“For the maze?”
Lauren nodded and half-dragged me along. I loathed horror-related things, but also hated to act like a coward. It couldn’t be that bad. Not in full daylight, although the sun sank toward the west; long shadows stretched over the uneven ground. I stumbled on in growing dread. We’d be in and out before dark, right? I had nothing to fear. Except fear itself—where had I heard that before? Probably in history class. Either Theodore or Franklin Roosevelt said that. Silver Hollow had a few of their quotes on plaques around the village.
“Did you know that detective questioned my brother Thursday?” Lauren asked. “Along with Matt Cooper and Kip O’Sullivan. Plus some other friend of theirs.”
“Jay didn’t tell me,” I said. “We talked on the phone yesterday—”
“Here we are!”
Lauren waved me on toward the corn maze entrance. Rats. I’d hoped to take a peek at Jay’s carving and then skip going through it. The carving had to be inside somewhere. A breeze rustled the dry cornstalks and sent a shiver down my spine. Nothing at the entrance was scary, at least. They’d set up a cute sign—DON’T GET CORN-FUSED—STAY ON THE PATH—with a benign scarecrow. Lauren greeted a boy, who added straw to the figure’s legs.
“Hey, we want to see my brother’s carving. Won’t take long.”
“Sure, Lauren,” he said, “but don’t touch anything.”
She pushed me into the long web-covered tunnel. Cotton tube socks dangled every few feet from the pallets overhead, weighted down with softballs, and covered with fake plastic spiders. I dodged one that swung, but another hit me in the cheek. Ow.
Lauren lowered her voice to a whisper. “We have to go through to the end, where they installed Jay’s carving. They paid him big money. I bet they’ll use it every year.”
“Maybe we could go around to that point.” I jumped when a huge feathery creature slid across a wire overhead. Ugh. Also fake, but Lauren giggled.
“It’s faster to go through the maze. Come on.”
She screamed, more from excitement than horror, when we turned a corner between the stiff cornstalks. I stared at the swirling chiffon “ghosts” with white masks that dangled before us. Not as bad as that spider, at least until a creepy zombie with fake blood and a decent makeup job thrust his hands before my face. Startled, I dodged and fell to one knee. Lauren hauled me to my feet with a cheerful laugh. We plunged onward around a few more bends.
Lauren pointed to the large boxing glove nailed to a board, with a sign THIS WAY—BEWARE THE PUNCH. “Cheesy. Look at the punch bowl.”
“There’s a plastic cup attached to a string, so I bet it’s rigged.”
“Maybe whoever tries to take a drink gets doused with water?” She pointed upward, and craned her neck. “Or maybe they’re still setting it up. Whatever.”
“How about a water pistol,” I asked, “or those Super Soakers?”
“Yeah, those things hurt.” Lauren entered the next tunnel with two-by-fours hammered together in a wide lattice frame. Blown-up surgical gloves, attached to long coat sleeves, thrust through several openings. “Pool noodles. I helped staple the fabric around them. I didn’t know they put those silly gloves for hands on the ends, though.”
She screamed when a real arm and red-stained hand touched her shoulder. “Sorry,” someone called out. Dan Russell, the police chief’s son, poked his head around a curtain. “Hey, Lauren. I’m not supposed to touch anyone, but it’s hard to see how close people are.”
“We came to see Jay’s carving,” I said, and pushed Lauren forward.
“It’s so cool! I helped him set it up last night.”
Dan disappeared. I had no idea if we neared the end, and wanted to get this over with soon. We passed beneath another wood pallet tunnel with thicker spider webbing. Some of the spiders looked real and sprung out on long coils. At last we emerged from the network of tunnels to see a metal shelving unit, draped with flimsy netting, and holding jars of preserved heads. Lauren pointed to several, naming the people’s ghostly faces.
“First they posed for the photos, their eyes closed and mouths shut, like they were dead. Then we printed them in a sepia tone and put two side views on either side of the head-on view. Being in the water makes the faces look creepier.”
“It does look weird,” I admitted. “So where’s the carving?”
“We might be only halfway through. For ten bucks, people expect a good scare or two. Come on.”
I followed her between the tall cornstalks, giving in to the inevitable. Might as well enjoy the experience. Especially after another zombie, with tattered clothing and fake blood, carrying a small chainsaw, blocked our path. He moaned and fumbled with the tool’s pull cord. It didn’t start. Lauren patted his arm in sympathy.
“It’s okay, Tim. Doesn’t he work for you at the factory, Sasha?”
“Hi, boss.” Tim grinned sheepishly. “Guess I’m not very scary, huh? Last year my crazed clown was better. I need more practice starting this thing.”
“Maybe it needs oil,” I suggested.
“Great makeup job. You’ve got time to figure out how to start the chainsaw,” Lauren added. “See ya later at the Bears on Parade, if you make it.”
“Yeah,” Tim said. “Maybe we can round up some people and go to Sushi Town.”
“Ooh, sounds good. Or make our own,” she said. “Come on, Sasha.”
I walked onward, smiling at their easy camaraderie. Luckily, only a few dead ends here and there had chicken-wire ghosts or more scarecrows. We easily retraced our steps back to the main path. The head and upper body of a skeleton protruded from the ground at one point, holding a lantern in one arm. That was clever. I would have chosen to step over the skeleton and continue, but Lauren took the path through an open coffin serving as a doorway.
A mannequin in a white hospital gown and a long black wig was posed climbing out of a fake stone well. A stone-faced teen in a similar costume emerged from a side path. Lauren’s shrill scream hurt my ears.
“Get out—before it’s too late,” he moaned.
I drew Lauren away, weary of all the fake figures, the dried brown puddles—probably animal blood—on the ground, and the creepy clown’s head that sprang up from a black painted trash can. What was it about haunted houses—or cellars, or mazes—that people loved? The scare factor, of course, but beyond that. It wasn’t my idea of fun.
I screamed this time when a girl with long blond hair, wearing a bloody dress over jeans and sneakers, ambled our way in the
maze. Lauren admired her pasty white face and the black squiggly streaks below her kohl-rimmed eyes.
“Awesome makeup job, Jordan.”
The girl didn’t say anything, merely stared up at us with a malevolent sneer before she retreated back into hiding. I breathed deep. I might be over my fear of haunted houses and this maze, but I couldn’t help my body’s natural reactions. My heart throbbed, and I rubbed sweaty palms on my jeans. Lauren crept forward on the path, and jumped when a fake corpse slid out on a wooden board, and then slowly withdrew again.
“Yikes!” Lauren beckoned me forward. “Come on, we’re nearly through. I’m coming back a few more times. This is awesome.”
I disagreed. The innocent fun that teens relished had vanished the minute I’d come across Will Taylor’s body last month. Seeing Gina nearly a week ago magnified the reality of violent death. Corpses, fake or not, weren’t on my list as entertainment.
Lauren looked disappointed when we came upon a cauldron hanging over a pit. “This is supposed to have flames coming up, not real ones. Special effects. I guess they haven’t turned it on yet. We must have taken a shortcut and missed a few things.”
“No problem,” I said under my breath.
I did appreciate the artistic creation of a “skele-crow” hanging overhead. The burlap face grinned to show a few rotten teeth, empty eyes, and a hole for a nose. We finally stepped out of the maze into a clearing. A large post stood between two gnarled apple trees.
“Here it is,” Lauren announced. “Isn’t it amazing? Okay, I am biased.”
She held out her hand with a flourish, Vanna White–style, over the carved bear’s head emerging from the post. With an open jaw, the pointed teeth looked ferocious. One hairy arm and paw extended outward, complete with sharp claws.
“Wow. That is seriously fabulous.”
Jay had brought a realism to the piece, with its darkened etched “fur,” narrowed angry eyes, and a blackened nose. I fingered the claws and teeth, noting how they looked sharper but had blunt edges—good thing. I figured ticket buyers had to sign a release form before entering the maze, agreeing not to hold the farm liable for injuries, but Jay had been careful with this piece. He had a true gift, seeing an animal or object hidden within wood, and then bringing it into clear focus with such talent and skill.
“I can’t wait to see his other pieces at the studio.”
“I know, right? Jay’s self-taught,” Lauren said proudly. “He took a few advanced classes in carving right after high school, and since then, it’s been practice, practice, and more practice. Jay could teach, you know. He’s wonderful, patient with kids and adults. I’ve seen him helping people learn to use all kinds of carving tools.”
“You ought to write his résumé,” I said. “I wonder if Kip O’Sullivan could put in a good word for him at the community college.”
“Jay asked, but Kip keeps ‘forgetting’ to do it. Great friend, huh.” Her angry tone faded when she placed a hand on the bear’s head. “Maybe Kip’s jealous. Unless Jay needs a bachelor’s or master’s degree to teach? That might be it.”
“I don’t know.”
Maddie could tell me whether Kip had a degree, and that could be why he was only an adjunct, not a full-time professor. I was more surprised that Kip had failed to help. I thought he and Jay were good friends.
“Nice meeting you, Sasha, but I gotta run,” Lauren said. “I don’t want to miss being there when they show his bear sculpture. You are coming tonight?”
“Yes, but only if I can hitch a ride back to the village with you. Maddie drove today, and she needed the car. You can drop me off near the park, and I can walk home.”
“Sure, no problem. I gotta get my purse,” she said, and then pointed. “Take this path to the right and you’ll end up in the parking lot. I’ll meet you there.”
I trudged for what seemed like five miles, through orchards with taller apple trees, past fields of pumpkins, and finally reached the parking lot. Lauren ran toward a sporty low-slung Saturn coated with dirt, waving madly. Somehow I managed to squeeze into the front, my knees near my face. I hadn’t thought of pushing the seat back.
“I didn’t think I was that tall.”
“Sorry, there’s a box on the floor behind you, and it doesn’t leave much room up here. This is a hand-me-down car. My older brother Paul’s head hits the ceiling with every bump in the road,” she said with a laugh. “Jay had the engine replaced before he gave it to me. Besides the usual repairs, like the brakes, oil changes, fuel pump.”
“Jay knows how to fix cars?”
“Simpler jobs. Otherwise, we take it to Randy’s Garage behind the pub.”
“How many brothers and sisters in your family?” I asked.
Lauren explained how Paul had a wife and two kids. Her younger brother, Drew, was still in high school, and her parents lived in the two-story house her grandfather built. They’d sold the majority of the acreage to a neighboring farmer; Mr. and Mrs. Kirby both had jobs in Ann Arbor at the medical center, as therapists. Jay had moved out a few years ago to the apartment complex north of town, close to Silver Lake.
“Even though it’s brand-new, there’s problems with the air-conditioning, water leaks, and other horrors.” Lauren sped down the road, gravel and dirt spewing behind the car. “Mom keeps bugging him to come back home. His studio is the old barn on our property, and she said he can convert the loft into living space. Jay thinks it would cost a fortune.”
“He needs a tiny house, like the ones on HGTV,” I said.
“Great idea, but he prefers being on his own. Wish I could be. That will be a while, with school and all.”
She chattered on about her boyfriend, who planned to enter med school, and their dream of renovating a farmhouse near Chelsea. Lauren insisted on driving to the Silver Bear Shop and gushed over the mailbox with the mother bear and its two cubs.
“Wow! I wanted to see this ever since Jay mentioned working on this piece.”
I shut the passenger door. “Thanks again for the ride. See you tonight.”
Lauren sped off, so I hurried inside and let Rosie out into the yard. Poor baby, waiting all afternoon to go out. I glanced at the clock. Too late for a long, hot shower. I’d heard the village clock chime six times. The Bears on Parade event had started, so I rushed upstairs for a quick rinse, dried my hair, and stood in front of my closet. I chose rust-colored slacks and a cream sweater, a chunky wood necklace, tweed jacket, and my flats. Comfort over fashion. The last time I’d worn ankle boots with this outfit, I’d gotten two blisters.
Rosie wasn’t happy being left behind again. I hugged her tight, fed her, and tossed a chew stick in her crate. “I’ll be back soon, baby. Promise.”
Then I hurried off to the village. Cars lined Kermit Street and both sides of Roosevelt Avenue. Good thing I hadn’t bothered to drive. Being a Saturday, twice as many visitors had come tonight than Wednesday. I joined the throng around the Park Bear, unveiled earlier. Painted green for the most part, the bear had multiple oval vignettes on the front and back, each showing tiny figures flying kites, enjoying a picnic, playing football, baseball, or soccer. Dave Fox posed the shy female artist next to the bear.
Amy Evans, in her usual navy suit, waved people down the street. “Twenty minutes before we unveil the next bear on the Village Green!”
“Hey, Sasha!” Lauren joined me, still in jeans and the T-shirt she’d worn to the farm. A woman bumped into her from behind and sloshed half her coffee over them both. “I sure am glad I didn’t get dressed up tonight.”
“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” the woman said. “The lid wasn’t on tight, I guess.”
“It’s okay, really. You didn’t get any on you, Sasha?”
I’d already checked and shook my head. Lauren and I walked down Archibald Street and then past the Regency Hotel. The Starry Night Bear had a steady stream of admirers in front of Cissy Davison’s Time Turner shop. A larger group of people milled around Maddie’s Polka Bear. Tonight wood
en barriers blocked traffic to the main downtown area, and Officer Hillerman sat in a police car by the courthouse.
“I wonder why they chose the Village Green for Jay’s bear,” I mused.
“The committee added it at the last minute, along with the waiter bear on Theodore Lane. The one in front of the restaurant.” Lauren shook her damp coffee-stained shirt, as if hoping the sun would dry it. “Did you know the Legal Eagles lawyers paid Jay a thousand bucks for that carving in front of their office? Mr. Richardson paid five hundred for the bear in the maze.”
“Plus the Oktobear Fest hired him to do a new sign.”
“Jay is thrilled doing it, too. Oh, there he is! Hey,” Lauren called out, jumping up and down. She reminded me of the kids earlier at the farm event, her excitement contagious.
I laughed at the Animaniacs tie Jay wore this time with his suit. He hugged his sister and then pulled me closer for a brief kiss. “Hey, people might get the wrong idea,” I teased.
“I hope they do. How did it go out at Richardson’s Farms?”
“Fine. I saw your carved post in the maze,” I said. “We’d better print out a contract for our new shop sign, since you’re getting so swamped with commissions.”
Jay gave a rueful smile. “I’m not complaining, but I’ve got enough work to last through winter. Let’s get over to my Jack Pine Bear. After that, they’ll unveil the Honey Bear in front of the Sunshine Café. Turns out Pet the Bear isn’t done yet, so that’s coming next week.”
“It’s not tonight?” Lauren wailed. “Oh, man! I’m working all next week, and I so wanted to see it. I heard it’s painted with cats, dogs, and birds.”
“It won’t be going anywhere,” I reminded her. “I wonder if Kip’s done with his Hippie Bear. That’s where Maddie is tonight. She’s sorry to miss your unveiling, but boy, is she worried. I hope they do finish soon.”
“Me too.” Jay squeezed my hand. “I wonder where Amy Evans is—”
“Over there, talking to Mayor Bloom,” his sister said. “Don’t forget to ask Sasha about the box. It’s really important.”
