Skeleton Tree

by Kim Ventrella

  “I might have ordered it,” said Ms. Francine. “Hard to tell.” She shook hands with Uncle Morris. “Now, who wants to come into the kitchen and help me with the candles?”

  “I do,” Uncle Morris said, standing up with a groan. “Oh, you mean the kiddos?”

  “No, no,” said Ms. Francine. “The big kiddo will do just fine.”

  Uncle Morris went into the kitchen to help Ms. Francine. Stanly looked at Jaxon. Jaxon shook his head, but it was already too late. Stanly sat down in the chair, and with his back to the kitchen slid the phone into his pocket.

  “What are you doing?” Jaxon whispered, eyes wide. “That doesn’t belong to you. Why don’t you just ask to borrow it?”

  “We’ll go out and snap a shot while he’s distracted, and then we’ll put it back where we found it.”

  “Where you found it. And besides, the skeleton’s all wrapped up, remember?”

  Stanly hadn’t thought about that. “We’ll just have to hurry.”

  “There’s no time. The party will start any minute now.”

  “No way, we’ve got at least—”

  The doorbell rang again.

  Stanly let his head thump into the back of the puffy leather chair. “I’ll get it,” Stanly called, keeping his hand over the pocket where he was hiding the phone.

  He opened the door to find a woman in a blue police uniform. His heart stopped for a full second before it started up again at a frantic pace.

  “Oh … my … god,” Jaxon said, coming up behind Stanly. “Please tell me this is a costume party.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Oh.”

  A million things ran through Stanly’s head in that moment. First and foremost, that somehow someone knew he’d stolen the phone and he was about to get arrested. The phone, which before had felt cool to the touch, burned against his skin.

  “Sorry to bother you,” she said. “I’m Officer Knokes. Is your mom or dad home?”

  “No, she’s out. Can I … help you?” Stanly said, trying hard to keep from hyperventilating.

  Officer Knokes adjusted her belt. “I’d rather speak with the head of the household. Is there an adult at home?”

  “What can I do for you, Ms. Policewoman?” Ms. Francine said, sneaking up behind Stanly and Jaxon. “I hope we haven’t broken any laws? Unless it’s a crime now to have a party?”

  Stanly tightened his grip on the phone in his pocket. Officer Knokes swept her gaze over his pants and then took in the presents and decorations. “Listen, I’m sorry to intrude, folks, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding, but we’ve received a tip that you might be keeping a dead body on the premises.”

  “A dead what?” Uncle Morris stumbled out of the kitchen, holding a lit birthday candle. For a moment, relief flooded Stanly’s chest; that is, until he realized what must have happened.

  “Like I said, I’m sure it’s a mistake, but if I could just take a quick look around—”

  “And who exactly made this tip?” Ms. Francine raised an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t be a certain pizza boy who was fifteen minutes late making his delivery?”

  “I can’t divulge that information, ma’am. If you could just show me your backyard, I’ll be on my way.”

  Every eye turned to the back window. Stanly’s breath caught in his throat. In the spot where he should have seen a giant paper lollipop, he found nothing but air. Ms. Francine winked at him and tapped the side of her nose. He looked at Jaxon, whose eyebrows reached all the way up to the top of his hair.

  “Okay, we will show you. Hurry up, Ms. Policewoman, it’s almost party time, and we wouldn’t want to ruin a little girl’s birthday.”

  “Of course not, ma’am.”

  Ms. Francine showed Officer Knokes around the yard. Stanly and Jaxon went outside, too, and stared down at the spot where the skeleton had been.

  “What do you think happened to him?” Jaxon whispered, his breath coming in short gasps. “I mean, skeletons don’t get up and walk away. Do they?”

  “This one might.” Stanly nodded to the fence, where a bit of yellow streamer had caught in between two slats. It swished back and forth in the wind, creating an eerie sort of music. Stanly hugged his arms tight around his chest. He couldn’t explain it, but he had the strangest feeling, like the streamer was inside his rib cage, tickling his bones.

  Officer Knokes apologized to Ms. Francine and climbed back into her patrol car. While everyone was in the hallway, showing her out, Stanly slipped the phone back in between the chair cushions. What was the point in having a camera if there wasn’t anything to take a picture of? His heart sank a little deeper in his chest.

  “Most of these tips turn out to be false alarms,” she said over the crackle of the scanner. “Especially on Halloween.”

  “It’s okay, we understand. These birthday parties can be dangerous things. Goodbye, now,” Ms. Francine said. She waved a clawed hand at Officer Knokes and led Jaxon and Uncle Morris back inside.

  “What was that all about?” said Uncle Morris. “I don’t come to visit for six months, and now you’re hiding dead bodies on the premises?”

  “We’re not hiding dead bodies. It was just a mistake,” Stanly said, the words tasting hollow in his mouth. “You heard her, they get false alarms all the time.”

  “All right, I trust you. But if you’re planning to break the law again, warn me next time, okay? I’ve got priors.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Oh, a smart aleck and a criminal? Mom is gonna love this.”

  “You’re not gonna tell her,” Stanly said, almost cracking a smile.

  In response, Uncle Morris released the wettest, smelliest burp Stanly had ever witnessed.

  “Probably not.” Uncle Morris winked. “Your secret life of crime is safe with me. Now, you and your sidekick over there … ” He pointed to Jaxon. “… come and help me hang these lights in the yard.”

  “But it’s still daytime,” said Jaxon.

  “For later, duh. Don’t make me burp on you again.”

  “We’d better help him.” Jaxon looked at Uncle Morris’s mouth like it was a garbage can on the verge of exploding. “I think he means business.”

  By the time Miren’s friends from school started to show up at the door with gift bags as big as they were, gray clouds had blocked out the sun. Uncle Morris was right about the lights. They sparkled, warm and inviting, making Stanly almost glad for the gray, stormy sky. They reminded him of the glow-in-the-dark pony set Dad had given Miren for her last birthday. Too bad Dad wouldn’t be giving Miren anything like that this year, at least not in person.

  While they waited for Mom and the birthday girl, Ms. Francine entertained the guests in the living room with stories of life in Kyrgyzstan.

  “Every morning, I woke up at five to get water from the well. Two miles I had to walk, and when it was snowing, the well would be one big sheet of ice. If I was lucky, I would make it back home without breaking my neck. Then it was time to peel potatoes.”

  Stanly retreated to the yard. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what it was like this time last year when Dad still lived with them. He couldn’t. It seemed so long ago.

  “I found those cutouts you were looking for,” Jaxon said to Uncle Morris. “The ones of Stripy Pony. We could still put them up.”

  “Way to go, Jaxon with an x. You’re turning out to be quite the treasure hunter. Help me stick ’em on the fence, would you? Wherever you can find space.”

  “Or,” Jaxon said, “we could make it look like they’re running.”

  Uncle Morris rubbed his chin. “I like how this kid thinks. Let’s do it, quick, before Miren gets here.”

  They taped Uncle Morris’s glittery pony cutouts along the fence so it looked like the horses were running. Underneath the sparkly lights, they really did look pretty awesome. Stanly hated ponies, but he knew Miren would love them. Even though, for some reason, seeing them made him a little sad.

  “Hey, check out the fence
,” Jaxon whispered, peeking over his shoulder at Uncle Morris. “The streamer that was stuck between the slats. It’s gone.” Jaxon took a bunch of deep breaths, the way pregnant ladies always do on TV right before they give birth.

  “That means he’s out there somewhere. Hiding.” Stanly shuddered, though part of him wasn’t surprised. Part of him knew, when he saw the skeleton posed like an explorer, that it was only a matter of time before … “Look, I know the haunted house is tonight, but what do you say after this we go find him?”

  “Find him?” Jaxon shook his head. He twirled his watch around and around his wrist, like he didn’t even know he was doing it. “You don’t get it, do you?” His expression had changed back from admiration to fear. “First, a skeleton grows in your backyard. Then he gets up and walks away the minute someone discovers him. This is bad, Stanly. Horror movie bad. There’s a skeleton lurking out there somewhere.” He motioned to the overgrown field beyond the fence. “This isn’t even about the contest anymore. What if he sneaks into your bedroom when you’re sleeping? What if he—”

  The back door burst open, creaking on the broken hinge.

  “Stanly! It’s party time!”

  Miren wiggled out of Mom’s grasp. Uncle Morris caught her and spun her around in a circle, careful not to tangle her tubes.

  “There you are, munchkin. Happy birthday! Give your uncle a kiss.” Uncle Morris blew a slobbery kiss into Miren’s ear.

  Miren giggled and squirmed as Uncle Morris set her and her tank back on the ground. Her eyes fell on the spot where the skeleton had been, and her smile crumpled. She searched the rest of the yard, and when she didn’t find a skeleton, her face drooped and wobbled and threatened to explode.

  “Where is he, Stanly? Where’s Princy?” Her voice sounded all wispy, like someone had punched her in the stomach. “He was supposed to dance at my party. Remember, Stanly? You promised.”

  Miren ran to the spot where the skeleton had been a few minutes before, ripping out her plastic tubes and tipping over her tank.

  “What did you do to him?” Miren glared at Stanly, and then, for reasons inexplicable to him, she collapsed onto the grass and started to cry. “It’s all your fault, you ruined everything.”

  Uncle Morris scooped Miren up like a baby, and Mom rushed over to fix the tank. Miren sobbed and hiccupped, air rattling inside her tiny chest.

  “Maybe he had to go run some errands,” Jaxon said, tugging so hard on his watch the band popped. “I know! I bet he went to buy you a birthday present, right, Stanly?”

  Stanly didn’t answer. Now Mom was glaring at him, too.

  “Who on earth is Princy?” Mom tried to reattach the tubes, but Miren shook her off. “Sweetheart, you need to put them back in. Oh my god, Morris, put her down.”

  Miren was choking. Uncle Morris put her down and Mom cradled her face.

  “What’s wrong with her, Mom?” All of a sudden, Stanly couldn’t breathe, either, like a bony spider had crawled up his throat.

  Mom swallowed hard but didn’t answer. Miren’s pudgy fingers felt cold in Stanly’s hands. He tried to slide one of the tubes back in her nose, but Mom pushed him away.

  “Stanly, move over. Let me do it.”

  Miren’s eyelids flickered.

  “What’s happening to her?” Stanly said, but Mom didn’t answer. She secured the second tube, and Miren drew in a wheezing breath, like one of the ancient alien mummies in Ancient Aliens Attack! Only this wasn’t some dumb video game—it was his little sister.

  Stanly patted Miren’s back to try to help her breathe, but Mom said, “Scoot over, Stanly, I need to check her tank.” She fiddled with the dials. “Tell everyone to go inside. I don’t want them staring at her like this, not on her birthday.” All around them, Miren’s friends and their parents turned away and headed back toward the house. “You, too, Stanly.”

  “Don’t worry, sis. We’ll take care of it.” Uncle Morris ushered everyone back inside, including Stanly and Jaxon, and started a somber game of animal charades.

  Stanly pressed his cheek into the cool brick fireplace, anger burning underneath his skin. Mom didn’t think he could take care of Miren. She didn’t know anything. He’d been the one to put a Band-Aid on her scraped elbow the time she’d slipped on the ice. He’d taught her how to throw water balloons and ride a tricycle and eat an ice-cream cone without getting a cold headache. He never did anything but take care of Miren.

  Mom was just too busy at her stupid job to notice. She trusted Uncle Morris, even though he only saw Miren maybe once a year, but not Stanly.

  A few minutes later, Mom led Miren back inside. Everyone clapped and started to sing “Happy Birthday,” except for Stanly.

  “Stanly, sing me ‘Happy Birthday’!” Miren pulled free of Mom’s grasp and came to sit in Stanly’s lap. Her butt crunched his thigh bone, but he didn’t say anything. She squished his lips together to make it look like he was singing.

  He wanted to stay angry, but Miren had this frustrating way of always making him laugh. He sang “Happy Birthday,” and he gave Miren a hug. Mom sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. She smelled like her usual orange peel shampoo.

  “You’re a good big brother,” Mom said once everyone had finished singing and Ms. Francine emerged from the kitchen, holding a tray of cupcakes.

  “I was just trying to help,” Stanly said. Not that anyone had noticed.

  “I know, I’m sorry, I’ve been kind of on edge lately with everything that’s happening … You know I love you, right?”

  Stanly let the words hang in the air between them. Part of him wanted to say nothing. Part of him thought Mom deserved that after always ignoring him, after refusing to trust him with Miren.

  Part of him wanted to hold a grudge, but the other part knew Miren was watching. And as much as he wanted to stay angry, deep down, he also knew Mom was doing her best. It wasn’t easy trying to take care of him and Miren all by herself. She might not be perfect, but she was still his mom. “Love you, too,” he said.

  “Me, too!” Miren slobbered in Stanly’s ear.

  “Gah!”

  “Now let’s eat some cupcakes,” Miren said.

  She ate one bite of her cupcake, then got bored and decided to open presents.

  Stanly watched and laughed at how excited she got over the dumbest things, even Jaxon’s set of Darby Brothers’ mysteries. He bit into his cupcake. It tasted tangy and delicious, but the sugary icing clung to the roof of his mouth. He turned to look out the window, and even though it was too cloudy to see, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was out there, looking back at him. Waiting.

  The sun slipped out of sight as the last guest drove away. Stanly and Jaxon took down the sparkly lights and pony cutouts, casting the yard in total darkness. The only hint of light came from the blinking Santa on Mrs. Hammelstein’s roof, the one she’d had up since last Christmas.

  “I wonder if he’s coming back.” Jaxon curled the stack of paper ponies in his hands.

  Stanly didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. “There are still a few hours before midnight. If he comes back, maybe … ” He didn’t bother to finish. There was no point.

  A crumpled pony dropped from the stack and landed on Jaxon’s shoe. “I hope he stays away. Sorry, Stanly, but I have a bad feeling about this … ” He closed his eyes and shook his head, the way he always did, like he was waiting for his ears to pop. “I just hope he stays away.”

  Part of Stanly felt the same way, but the other part, the bigger part, still wished he could win the contest. When Dad was here everything felt balanced. Like how a teeter-totter needs someone on both sides to keep it upright. Now it was him and Mom and Miren on one side, and inch by inch they were sinking into the ground.

  While Mom and Ms. Francine stood on the porch, waving goodbye, Jaxon and Stanly went inside to get ready.

  “I’m really sorry about the contest,” Jaxon said, strapping on his BrainBlaster 2000 chest plate. “We
can go look for the skeleton … if you really want.”

  Stanly smiled a little, because Jaxon was an awesome friend, but he knew in his heart it was over. Tracking down the skeleton wouldn’t be enough to win the contest. Even if they could catch it, they wouldn’t be able to submit a photo before the deadline.

  Although the words weighed heavy on his tongue, he said, “Nah, let’s just enjoy the party.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Stanly paused, but there was no use second-guessing. He’d already made up his mind. “I’m sure.”

  The Halloween party was even more epic than Stanly could have imagined. It was the perfect thing to help him forget about the contest.

  The best part was when Jaxon’s dad let them be monsters in the haunted house. Stanly had his own coffin, and one time when he burst out of it and screamed, this seventh grader from two streets over started crying. The only bad thing about hiding inside a coffin was that it got all hot and stuffy inside, and it gave him time to think about the contest he couldn’t possibly win.

  So once the crowd died down, Stanly climbed out to see if Jaxon wanted to go in the house for a while and play Ancient Aliens: Stonehenge Revenge, but he wasn’t there.

  Stanly wandered around looking for Jaxon. The party had thinned out by then. A few teenagers huddled in a corner, smoking. A girl screamed, and then the scream turned into snorting laughter. Stanly was about to head over toward the house when someone ran past him and nearly knocked him over. He spun around in time to see a white blur disappear through the gate.

  Sweat pricked Stanly’s armpits. He knew he’d said he was done with the contest, but something about that blur made him change his mind. He shrugged out of his chest plate and zombie-proof helmet. Footsteps crunched the grass on the other side of the fence. A muggy wind rattled the aluminum gravestones stuck in the yard, but Stanly heard another sound, too. Not like metal vibrating in the breeze. More like bones clinking together in the bottom of a sack.

  Stanly ran after the figure, leaving behind the light and warmth of the party for the dark and damp of the ditch behind Jaxon’s house.