They returned home and drank milk and sat in front of the TV for a little while. Then Daddy and Barb began quarreling again, so they climbed the stairs to their bedroom to wait out the confusion.
"Wasn't it awful?” Claudia asked. “It was terribly awful, wasn't it?"
After he nodded to agree, she was silent for a space and then said, “What if he is in league with the Raptor Spirit? What if they were joined up against Grammer? Can you vision it? Close your eyes."
He closed his eyes and saw darkness.
"The hat,” she said. She took it all rumpled and melancholy from the box on the floor of the cramped closet, pushing aside the dance pumps that no longer fit and a doll dress she had tried to remodel. She tugged the hat onto his head and grasped his shoulders and turned him to face the bed. “Play like this is Grammer's bed with her in it. Vision if you can see Uncle Moon with the Raptor."
He shook his head.
"Close your eyes and vision."
Darkness only. He told her to leave him alone.
"All right then.” She took the hat and stuffed it back into the box. “But it is the truth anyhow, I know it is. I just know it in all my heart."
Five minutes passed before she revealed her plan to set up a headquarters in the basement, over in the corner beside the furnace where the whisper had come from. “We will take that place away from them and then they cannot hide there where Uncle Moon hid before and tried to scare us. We are not scared, are we? I am the Princess of Thieves and you are my Sturdy Helper."
He shook his head, but she could tell he was frightened, even more than before because his face was whiter than ever and he was staring out their window as if something showed itself there.
When she looked, it fluttered away and she was not certain she had seen the smirky, orangey face with its eyes crinkled narrow, bobbing on the night breeze. “Hush now,” she said when he sniffled. “Nothing is out there."
He cast his eyes down and she knew his fear was growing darker.
* * * *
So she devised a weapon, finding one of the bamboo fishing poles in a corner of the cellar and sawing it in two with a discarded hacksaw blade and fixing a sharp nail to the end with duct tape. Daddy had abandoned his workbench down here when Grammer became so sick and it was strewn with all sorts of oddments that might prove lucky.
She brandished her little spear, poking the air. “Whenever we see one of the moon-face balloons we will explode it.” She thrust meaningfully at a shadow. “Pop. There it goes, nothing left. It cannot scare us, no matter how many. Poof."
The number of balloons had multiplied, tangled in the shrubbery or dancing among tree limbs or tumbling along the alley driveway with its grassy median. Why did not Daddy ask where all the balloons came from and what did they mean with their evil grins? Nobody mentioned them, though they were plain to see.
They grew more plentiful, even as Claudia valiantly attacked them. The more of them she poked into flabby ribbons, the more they multiplied. She dreaded the day she would come down here to the basement to collect herself and think about how nice things used to be before Grammer took sick and find the space filled wall to wall with red-orange balloons, huddled together and rubbing among themselves like new blind puppies.
She offered to make a spear for Jaz, but he said No, it only made things worse. The more they were destroyed, the more there were of them. And also besides, he said, when he came here by himself there was a whisper he could hear that was scary, though he could not make out the words. A Guardian Spear would be no help.
"What did it sound like, the whisper?” Claudia asked.
He frowned to concentrate, then made a sound through his teeth like wind in a ragged bush or like a sea wave bursting upon a rock or a deadly serpent hissing.
"That is only Uncle Moon. We are defeating his face-balloons, so now he is making whispers."
"Why?"
"Because that is the way he just is. He must be a big coward, trying to scare kids like us. But we are not daunted."
But now here was again the whisper they both heard plainly. It came from the shadows by the dusty old furnace. “If you ain't afraid, you better be. You don't see me, but I see you. That's how my song goes, my new song. I see you, I see right through."
"You are in league with the Raptor Spirit,” Claudia said, “and took Grammer away from us, but she has gone to a better place and you cannot find her now."
"I know exactly where she went,” the whisper said. “But you would not want to hear. It would scare you plenty."
"We have our Guardian Spear. It will protect us, no matter how many faces you send. You better not come near.” She stabbed the air in several directions.
The whisper sniggered.
* * * *
3
The school year had cranked up and was mumbling along and Claudia and Jasper attended to its rote duties absentmindedly. Already there were flyers posted on bulletin boards announcing the Raintree Hills Halloween Bash. The big neighborhood party was to be uproarious, centered at the traffic circle by the main road but also spread all through the development.
Uncle Moon's faces had become less numerous; fewer of them disturbed their days and distressed their dreams, but the balloons had changed color to a dark and bloody red and their smiles had grown more crooked and meanly knowing. There was more commotion in the house now because Daddy and Barb were combating, as they had not done so often when Grammer was alive.
After the most heated quarrels, Daddy would seek out the children and give them hugs and talk to them in a low, calm voice. Things were not so bad as they seemed, he said, only some harsh feeling had built up for a long time and now was let loose. It was not only Grammer's death but also many difficult legal details about her property and some taxes and it seemed that Uncle Hobart had been interfering in ways that no one could understand and while you would expect Barb to stand by her brother, she ought at least to be reasonable.
"I know you don't understand all that I'm talking about,” he said, “but maybe if you know there's an explanation for our behavior, you won't be so apprehensive. I can tell that you are frightened and have been frightened ever since Grammer passed."
Jasper trotted to Daddy where he knelt and pushed his face into his neck and sobbed a little. Claudia hung back. She felt that if she gave in and began to talk she could not stop and would tell everything, all about the Golden Net and the Raptor and how Uncle Moon lurked upon her and Jaz. If she told on Uncle Moon, he would do something terrible, you could count on that. He was everywhere and knew everything. He would know what she told her father.
"I have to go down to the old farmstead in Monroe County,” Daddy said. It was something about property boundaries Claudia would not comprehend. “It is not far. Maybe you two would like to come with me and see the place where your grandmother grew up. Do you remember how she liked to talk about it? You have not visited since you were very small people."
Jaz said nothing, but Claudia was eager. “When do we get to go?"
"Soon. In about a week, maybe."
* * * *
4
It would be restful to be away from the house where Barb rattled silverware and broke crockery, away from Uncle Moon who occupied both houses at once. Here he was in her kitchen, hanging around Barb as she washed her pantyhose in the sink, inspecting them carefully and discarding those in which she discovered the slightest flaw. Uncle Moon talked to her endlessly in his silly way and when Claudia and Jasper came in for water he wagged his big, roundy head at them and winked. “Everybody knows something,” he said, “but I know something nobody knows I know."
Jasper scurried away, but Claudia stood her ground and returned upon Uncle Moon the evilest, crookedest smile she could muster. Then she turned deliberately and marched away slowly.
"I know you know I know,” he sang after her.
"Hobe, what in the world are you going on about?” Barb said.
"Oh, nothing,” he said. “Nothing yet
, anyhow."
* * * *
It was actually two weeks before Daddy invited them into the spacious back seat of the old Buick and pulled out of the driveway, swearing indistinctly at something Barb had said as he left the house. As soon as they were out of the Heaton city limits, rolling easy on the three-lane byway, he began to hum. He knew songs that were not played on the radio or MTV, songs that were easy to sing and cheerful.
The roadsides peeled by them, spattered with wildflowers sky-blue and golden and sometimes purple. The trees were splendidly red-and-gold. The maple by Grammer's garage had turned too, red-and-gold, and the moon-face balloons huddled among the leaves. It was hard to make them out in that display, but they were there and if you stood still and stared a long time the shapes distinguished themselves and grinning faces peered out. Claudia thought that perhaps she spotted some of them nestled in the foliage along the highway, but Daddy sped by so fast the colors blurred all together.
They had traveled only forty miles or so when they turned off onto a narrow two-lane asphalt and then, not long after, onto a gravel road that ran around the pastured hillsides fenced with barbwire. It was exciting to see cows black-and-white and red-and-white and sometimes tall rangy horses with tails whipping in the breeze and once even a spotted pony. Jaz was absorbed and looked as if several cloaks of gray shadow had slid from his body.
And now they came to a grassy lane with two clay tracks that ran beside a long pasture with sagging wire and slanted, lichenous posts. Daddy rolled down his window and the smells that poured in caused the senses to lighten—clean dust, sun-drenched grass, bitter weeds. The lane led into the front yard of a tall house, all gray and patchy and with some of the blue tar shingles missing from the porch roof. A man sat in a weathered rocking chair and rose and came down the porch steps to greet the car.
Daddy got out and shook hands with him and told the children to come out and meet Mr. Perkins. He was a slight fellow with silver hair and a friendly smile—not nasty and knowing—and he shook hands with the children too, though he had gently to withdraw Jasper's hand from the pocket of the boy's jeans to do so. Daddy told him their names and he repeated them before responding to Daddy's questions about the land surveyors who were here last week and would return next week. Today was Sunday, the only day Daddy could come, so he had no chance to talk to them, but Mr. Perkins reported carefully everything they had said and what he had asked and all that and after a minute or two Daddy pointed to the big once-red barn over there and told the children they could play there if they liked but not to get too dirty or Barb would have a fit. Mr. Perkins said, “And don't you younguns be climbing up to the loft. They's some rotted flooring up there and you might fall through and bump your butt."
Jasper erupted into gales at that and Claudia remembered that it had been a long time, really long, since she had heard him laugh.
So they ran to the barn and, unable to tug open the heavy door, went to the small one at the side and stepped through into a big hollow space slatted with sunray and shadow. Here were more dust-smells and other smells too, of musty hay and moldy harness leather and others they could not name. They wandered through three stalls, marveling at the nibbled trough-edges. In the big open space in the center, they found pieces of iron once useful but now only rusty puzzles. Two pieces were handy for throwing so Jaz hurled them and made the walls boom and shower motes. Claudia spotted a gleaming and knelt and uncovered a yellow bracelet with some broken links. She swung it in the air before her eyes, peering closely. Might it have belonged to Grammer when she was a little girl? She would have played here; no little girl could resist, particularly if she were an only child. Grammer had longed for a sister, but none showed up and she had to amuse herself, lonely in the pasture and barn and in the grove above.
In a while the sun had shifted and the colors that shone between the boards on the west side distracted them. Different shades of orange there were, bright and dull and cloudy. Jasper pressed his face against the wall to peek through and Claudia joined him.
"Let's go look,” she said.
He shook his head.
"Let's go see. I am not afraid and you are not afraid either, Sturdy Helper."
Yet she was not so brave as to meet the sight head-on. She led the way to the side of the barn. There they halted and she gathered her courage and peered around the corner, ready to draw back quickly. Then she said, “It's all right, I think. It is only pumpkins. Let's go look."
Finally he came with her and they stood at the edge of the patch. Here and there stood spindly, withered cornstalks, some with drab leaves drooping. All around them were pumpkins, large and small, in among the shriveling vines. Scores of them: some as orange as the fruit orange, others reddish and pinkish and grayish and greenish all mixed with the brighter color. The shapes varied: some a little flattened like pincushions, some oval like grapes, tall gray globes with prominent ribs, and small, green, almost perfect globes, smooth as oilcloth. They had been looking for perhaps three minutes when Daddy came to tell them to choose the three best pumpkins for Halloween, the ones best suited for jack-o'-lanterns.
"No,” Jasper said.
"Don't you want jack-o'-lanterns for Halloween?” Daddy asked. “Of course you do. That's what Halloween is for."
"He's afraid,” Claudia said.
"Of pumpkins?"
"Yes. A little."
"I never heard of such a thing, You are not afraid, are you?"
"No. Not much."
"Why is Jaz afraid?"
"I don't know. It's hard to explain."
"Let's all go together and we'll pick out one apiece."
"He'll be fine if you come too,” Claudia said. “Won't you, Jaz?"
He nodded glumly. They shuffled among the pumpkins, Claudia and Jasper avoiding all that even remotely resembled Uncle Moon's big round horrible face, but Daddy said they were rejecting those that were the absolute best for their purposes.
"We want the big round fat ones,” he said. “The kind with room to carve, the kind people can see on our porch from the road, not those little pointy ones you like."
"You said we could pick."
"But be sensible, Claudia. They have to be big enough for us to carve faces. You and Jaz will draw faces on paper and we will choose the best designs."
Daddy cut three large specimens from the tough and drying vines with his pocket knife. Beside those three, Jasper's choices looked puny and stunted, but Daddy said they should take all of them. They set the six in the trunk of the car, alongside the lug wrench and jack and the box of Grammer's oddments that Barb had told Daddy to drop off at Good Will. He had assented but was in no hurry to complete the chore.
The light was going away, the lovely, dry October afternoon that had lit the trees like torches. Jaz did not look out the window as they rode homeward. He sat beside Claudia in the back, saying nothing even when Daddy questioned him about the farm and about his Halloween costume. He only stared at the seat back before him till they got to the main highway. Then he lay on his side and closed his eyes.
"I think our buddy tired himself out,” Daddy said.
Claudia kept silent. She knew that Jaz was in dread of the pumpkins in the trunk only a few feet away.
"We need to plan our Halloween,” Daddy said. “We want to have a real celebration and cheer ourselves up. Aren't you looking forward? Raintree Hills is making a big deal of it, a Halloween festival."
"I guess,” she said, though, like Jasper, she felt the strong presence of Uncle Moons in the trunk.
* * * *
"We will draw clown faces,” Claudia said, “and goofy faces and dumb faces like Freddie Warren's and happy faces like on the buttons. We will not draw scary jack-o'- lantern faces that look like what everybody else does."
Jasper nodded. He was already drawing with red, black, and yellow crayons on the torn grocery bags Barb had allowed them. His hand was unsteady, but Claudia could tell from his four designs that his were to be cheerful visag
es with easy smiles instead of jagged grins with snaggleteeth or fangs. They executed a dozen apiece and submitted them to Daddy.
He looked them over slowly. “Well, these are kind of...jolly. But they don't look like Halloween to me. What do you think, Barb?"
He displayed them and she glanced up from her stitching under the brightest lamp in the living room and shrugged.
He studied them more closely. “They ought to be scarier, maybe. Why don't you go ask Uncle Hobart to give you some tips? Barb says he's an artist, a real artist, different from other people. Isn't that true?"
She didn't bother to look up. “He has pictures published in a book. That's what artists do."
Daddy chuckled. “Oh, that book...I wouldn't boast about that book if it were mine."
"But it's not, is it? And never could be.” She knotted a thread and snapped it free of the tea towel she was embroidering with lavender daisies.
"You're right. Never could be. That's why if I were drawing pumpkin faces I would go and consult an expert artist like Hobe."
Jasper stared at his sister in admiring wonder when she said, “We don't like his faces. Jasper and me, we think they are mean, ugly faces."
He chuckled again, more loudly. “But that's Halloween. Ugly, mean faces are good for jack-o'-lanterns."
"Not for ours. We like happy."
"And just as well,” said Barb. “You don't need to be bothering Uncle Hobart. He has been feeling ill lately."
"How is that?” Daddy asked.
"He wasn't clear. He said he was feeling sort of scattered. Or divided. No. He said scattered."
Claudia thought of all the Uncle Moon heads in the pumpkin patch at the farm. Yes, he was scattered into dozens.
"Well, I haven't seen him in a couple of days,” Daddy said. “I was wondering. Halloween is an important day for him, isn't it? He wouldn't want to miss that."
"It's his favorite holiday,” Barb said. “Except for the World Series. That's where he's been. Watching the games and calculating statistics and so forth. But he'll be with us for Halloween and have a surprise like he always does."
FSF, September-October 2010 Page 27
