Black Cat Crossing

by Fitz Molly

  "So, they didn't come from here," I surmised. Both boys shook their heads. "Any idea where they could have come from?" I asked.

  The second teenager spoke up. "Nothing local. They're probably imported."

  "Unless they came over from Harrisville. There's a breeder that way. Strange guy," the first teenager added.

  A pixie breeder? Now I'd heard everything. Scoping out an odd duck on Halloween was not my idea of a good time. I really hoped it wouldn't come to that. "Okay, thanks guys. Do you mind if I leave the pixies here?"

  "Yeah, bro. That's cool," teenager number one replied.

  "Great." One problem down. How many did I have left to tackle? I was too scared to count.

  The teenagers were already back to their videogame and dragons before I even walked out the door.

  Chapter Five

  I called Misty on my way around the lake to help Vance. She didn't answer, and that didn't surprise me, seeing I knew how busy the store was. I decided to text her once I was parked to fill her in on what was going on outside her front door. I called Vance next.

  "Hey," he answered, sounding a little out of breath.

  "You still prisoner in your office?"

  "Unfortunately. The gargoyle keeps looking in the window for me and growling."

  "Sheriff there?"

  "No, I can't get through. Line's always busy." I shouldn't be surprised. We were a little town--no central dispatch here. You wanted the sheriff, you called their office. "I moved my desk against the window and barricaded the door with my filing cabinet."

  "Okay, I'm on my way." As I rounded the lake and came up to the residential district, I gulped at the sight of a gargoyle sitting perched on top of the town's single stoplight. It sat on the metal bar like an oversized pigeon, and I do mean oversized. I never realized how large the cathedral’s gargoyles were, nor had I bothered to count them. How many were currently flying around Silverlake?

  Unfortunately, the only way to Vance's office was to drive under the gargoyle and turn right. I crouched low in the car, and hit the gas as I made the turn, crossing my fingers the concrete beast wouldn't jump down and land on my roof and crush me in the process.

  The gargoyle was, thankfully, content to remain at his post. It may have growled at me as I passed underneath, or perhaps it was my imagination. If I could look past the madness for a moment, I would’ve been able to appreciate how much Silverlake had risen to the challenge of making this the most festive Halloween ever. Purple and green twinkling lights outlined the post office's front window. The bank's glass doors were painted a spirited scene of jack-o'-lanterns and falling leaves. Pumpkins were on every porch. The sense of community was oddly comforting and something I hadn't realized I'd missed living in Chicago. It wasn't that long ago that I called the Windy City home and that Silverlake was a sleepy town almost bankrupt. Tourism here had dried up and businesses were going to close up if something wasn't done about it. On a whim, I suggested hosting a fall festival, and the rest was history.

  A scarecrow walked in front of my car and snapped me back to the present. I slammed on my brakes. The decoration had a metal pie plate for a face, straw for hair, and was sporting a pair of overalls on its stick frame. It turned its head a hundred and eighty degrees and looked straight at me with its black permanent marker-drawn eyes. I ducked down in my seat. I should have floored it and ran the thing over, but I was too freaked out.

  After crossing the street, the decoration continued down the sidewalk. "Okay, now that is creepy." I slowly sat back up and shivered, instantly annoyed. Someone was clearly out to sabotage Halloween, make it so Silverlake never wanted to celebrate the witchiest holiday of the year, because let's face it, no one wants a scarecrow knocking on their front door. It rated right up there with dolls coming to life. I shivered again.

  No, this went above and beyond a Halloween prank. Croaking was one thing, but decorations and statues coming to life and pixies trashing stores were another. Not to mention the hay maze. I crossed my fingers Mr. McCormick had jumped the gun there, but I couldn't deny that the maze had me on edge. The thought of running into that scarecrow in there? Well, that was the stuff of horror movies. Not cool, anonymous trickster, not cool. Clemmie was right, the person responsible for all this better watch out when I discover who they are--and believe me, I will discover them.

  Up ahead, the town's firetruck was parked on the side of the street. The firefighters were hanging out the open cab, wands out on alert, scanning the horizon. I was afraid to ask, but forewarned is forearmed, or so they say. I rolled down my window as I passed by. "What's wrong?" I asked Fire Chief Grady, not bothering to say hello.

  "Spiders," the chief said. He kept his eyes on the road.

  "Come again?"

  "We have a report of giant spiders in the area."

  "Oh, no. How big?"

  "Big." The fire chief held his hands out in a circle about the size of a basketball.

  I visibly paled and my palms turned sweaty. I take that back. I'd rather face a scarecrow in the maze than a pack of man-eating spiders. This was officially the Halloween of horrors.

  "Is it a spelled decoration?" I asked, hopefully.

  "I don't know." The chief looked like he hadn't thought of that.

  "That's what's going on over at Village Square. Plus, I just saw scarecrow walking down the street."

  The chief relayed the message to his crew while I idled beside them. "Try tixi first. If not hypnos might work.” Hypnos was the spell for putting something to sleep. I hadn’t thought of that one. “Worst case, freeze the suckers until we figure out what to do with them."

  Chief Grady turned back to me and I wished him luck before adding, "I'm going to see a man about a gargoyle."

  It was the fire chief's turn look apprehensive. "A real gargoyle?"

  "Trying to break in Vance's office and there's one perched on top of the stoplight down there."

  Chief Grady sighed. I knew exactly how he felt. "I'll call it in. Stay safe."

  "Will do." I motored up my window and moved forward, eyes peeled for any giant spiders, sequined bats, or creepy scarecrows. With my eyes still on the road, I dug my wand out of my pocket. Wand in hand, I gripped the steering wheel and proceeded with caution--something I should have done from the get-go.

  * * *

  "What was I thinking?" I asked myself as I pulled into the public parking lot that served the surrounding businesses. I parked in the spot next to Vance's pickup truck and looked over and up to the cathedral where the gargoyles had come from. Over at Vance's office, something formidable rustled in the bushes. Even from inside my car, I heard the unmistakable sound of an animal growling. In the darkness, a set of red glowing eyes locked with mine and I gasped.

  "Think about Vance," I reminded myself of my friend who was trapped in his office. The coward in me wanted to put the car in reverse and burn rubber, but I couldn't do that to Vance. He needed my help and who knew how long the authorities would take to arrive? I tried to think about what I knew about gargoyles -- let's see they were a staple of Gothic architecture and they served as waterspouts. "Not helpful," I chastised myself. Unfortunately, I hadn't read up on magical creatures. If I had, I might've known about the pixie's apparent love of fruit.

  "Come on, think. There has to be something." Vance said his spells were ricocheting off the gargoyles stone exterior, but there had to be one that could stop them. I thought back to mythology and how gargoyles were placed around churches to remind people of the evil outside. And, how gargoyles were said to fly at night, returning to their posts and into stone when the sun rose.

  "That's it! Sunlight turns gargoyles back into stone." I sprang from my car, wand drawn, and marched forward. As soon as I got close enough, I was going to blast the gargoyle with a sunlight spell and pray that it did the job.

  Perhaps my plan had been a bit overzealous.

  The gargoyle emerged from the bushes before I was even in striking distance. He was stocky like a bulldog,
with jowls to match. He had wings like a bat and a tail like a devil.

  In an instant, the gargoyle charged. His four legs thundered down the sidewalk. I knew what spell I was supposed to say, but at that moment, I panicked. Everyone always talks about instincts and fight or flight, but no one ever mentions freeze, but that's what happened. I froze. I might as well have had ice blocks for feet because I wasn't going anywhere.

  The gargoyle ran straight for me. I braced for impact. Jumping up, the gargoyle’s massive front paws hit my thighs and knocked me backward. My palms caught my fall, but before I could sit up to defend myself, the gargoyle's paws were on my chest. The air went out of my lungs in a whoosh. The weight of him forced me down and I couldn't move. It happened in the blink of an eye.

  I stared up into the beast's glowing red eyes and thought, This is it. Drool dripped from the gargoyle's mouth and I turned away.

  Two things happened in the next instant, both of which I will never forget. One, Vance came running out of his office, carrying his office chair above his head, screaming like a banshee. And two, the gargoyle dropped a fist-sized rock on my chest before sitting back patiently, wagging his tail.

  The gargoyle let out a playful bark.

  Vance stopped mid-stride.

  I picked up the rock and scrambled to sit up. The gargoyle's ears perked up, and his tail wagged in earnest.

  "Is this what you want?" I hesitantly held up the rock in my hand. The gargoyle pranced in anticipation. "You want me to throw it?" Again with the tail wagging and drool only this time it went everywhere when he shook his head in excitement. I chucked the rock and the gargoyle took off after it.

  "Hurry, before he comes back," Vance said. But before we could take two steps, the gargoyle was back. He dropped the rock at my feet and sat expectantly like a good boy. I picked up the rock and threw it again. The gargoyle retrieved it in lightning speed a second time. After the third time, the gargoyle dropped the rock and proceeded to roll on his back in the grass.

  "This is what had you trapped in your office this whole time?" I bent down and scratched the gargoyle between his ears. He playfully licked my hand, his bat wings spread out behind him.

  "Like you didn't think he was going to rip your throat out."

  "Well, we know better now. The question is, what do we do next?"

  "I think we should name him Rocky," Vance said.

  "You can't keep the gargoyle."

  "What, why not?"

  "Because..." I struggled to come up with a reason. "He belongs to the church."

  "Well, he's not going to go stand guard right now. We mind as well bring him with us and keep him out of trouble."

  Vance made a good point.

  "Fine, but we're taking your truck. Rocky was acting like a good boy right now, but who knew how he would react in the car.

  The three of us climbed into Vance's truck. Rocky, jumping right in and sitting on the bench seat between us as if he rode in Vance's truck every day. He sat with his wings tucked in and his tail wrapped around his paws, panting with excitement.

  The way back to the shopping district was eerily quiet. The fire truck had moved on, we didn't see any man-eating spiders, and even Rocky’s counterpart was MIA.

  "I wonder where he flew off to?" I said as we drove under the stoplight.

  "Where to?" Vance asked me.

  I wanted to check in with Misty, but first, we needed to stop in at the hay maze and see how things were going there. I told Vance Mr. McCormick's concerns.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” he replied.

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  Chapter Six

  When we got to Village Square, the parking lot was still packed. Whatever was going on around town, hadn't scared off the tourists. If anything, it only seemed to liven the atmosphere.

  The chill I felt earlier was more pronounced. Humidity rolled in off the lake, mixing with the crisp air, forming a blanket of fog at our feet.

  "Spooky," Vance said, shutting the door after Rocky jumped down.

  We walked across the parking lot toward the maze, where Mr. McCormick stood. Deputy Amber Reynolds was there too-- the one girl I despised from my school. Okay, so there were only seventeen people in my graduating class, but if there had been a hundred, she'd still be public enemy number one. The blonde bombshell and I were opposite in every way, a fact that she insisted on pointing out all throughout our formative years. The fact that she was now a deputy and her father was the sheriff, enabling her to bully me with her badge, was somehow fitting. It also wasn't a good sign.

  "What's with the gargoyle?" Deputy Amber asked.

  Rocky whimpered.

  "Be nice. He's sensitive." Vance scratched Rocky's ears.

  "Whatever." Amber then turned to me. "I'm not surprised to see you. Want to save us all the trouble and go on and confess?" Amber motioned to the maze behind her.

  "Excuse me? I have nothing to do with this. I assume no one's come out yet?" I said the second part to Mr. McCormick.

  The older man looked dead on his feet. The stress of the night was taking its toll on him. "No, now Deputy Jones is lost too. I know you said not to allow anyone else in, but Amber insisted he check it out," Mr. McCormick apologized.

  "He has a radio and a gun. If he was in trouble, we'd know." Amber rolled her eyes. "But if he doesn't come back, I'm blaming you," she said to me.

  "What? That's absurd!" I shot back.

  "Wasn't it your idea to have a hay maze in the first place?" Amber asked.

  "I suggested it, but--"Amber cut me off.

  "And didn't you convince Mr. McCormick to donate the hay?" she continued.

  "Not really." Amber ignored me. Rocky growled low in his throat. He didn't care for Amber either.

  "And Mr. McCormick said you even supplied the maze diagram."

  "I supplied a diagram of a maze, which they didn't use." My maze paled in comparison to this architectural feat. I had very little to do with tonight's plans. The fall festival, yes. The Halloween carnival, not so much. After the shenanigans at the fall festival, I was taking a reprieve from planning.

  "I'm sorry, Amber, but you really can't pin any of this on me. But I do think someone is out to ruin Halloween and Silverlake's reputation. The question is he who?"

  "I'm not worried about the who, as much as the what is going on inside there," Mr. McCormick referenced the maze once more.

  "That's true," Vance said.

  "So, what do we do?" I envisioned tying a rope around my waist and heading in solo. Okay, maybe not solo. Vance could come too. I now knew he didn’t freeze up when things turned serious. But other than that, it would be the two of us heading in to investigate. If things got dicey, I could tug on the rope and Mr. McCormick could pull us to safety. I relayed my plan to the group.

  "I don't like it," Vance said before I was even done.

  I started to protest, but Amber cut us both off. "As far as I'm concerned, you two are going to stand under that pecan tree over there while those in the know figure this out."

  "Now isn't the time for you to have an authority complex," Vance said to Amber.

  "You think I'm going to let you two close enough to destroy any evidence? I am watching you, like a hawk. Now go stand over there until I can deal with you. "

  It took every bit of self-control not to curse Amber under my breath as I stomped away. And by curse, I meant give her warts or maybe a mustache.

  * * *

  I walked under the pecan tree Amber had pointed to and kept right on going. Vance wasn't surprised. "Bookstore?" he asked.

  "Yup." Unless Amber was officially arresting or detaining me, I wasn't about to listen to her. She had nothing on me and we both knew it--wishful thinking on her part.

  "I'm going to walk down to the pet shop and get Rocky here a treat." Vance looked down at the gargoyle, who was now dancing at his feet. Apparently, the word treat was universal.

  "Okay, you know where to find me."

  Vance and
I parted ways, and I made a beeline for the bookstore before I could be distracted once more. "Where have you been?" Misty greeted me at the door and shoved a tray in my hand.

  "Putting out fires."

  "Literally?"

  "Not yet, but nothing would surprise me at this point."

  "You can fill me in after helping me pick up these empty cups."

  I was going to remind Misty it had been her idea to serve pumpkin punch. Clear cups half-filled with orange juice littered the place. I found them on end tables, book displays, and the floor next to abandon chairs where they were just waiting to be kicked over.

  "Pixies? Gargoyles? No wonder you've been missing in action," Misty said as we cleaned up her bookstore.

  "I did call," I pointed out, but I never did send that text.

  The small bookshop was packed. It was an older crowd—less little kids and more teenagers and adults looking for a more mature way to celebrate the holiday. Misty had set up a spooky photo station complete with ghosts in a graveyard background and several props for guests to pose with and take selfies. Upstairs, people mingled and browsed books at the same time. The mystery and horror sections being the most popular.

  I noticed the snack table was picked over and even the punch bowl was almost empty. In terms of desserts, only a few cupcakes remained.

  "I'm going to snag one of those before it's too late. I'm starving." Misty reached beside me and took one of Diane's cupcakes. Diane owned La Luna bakery. It was a chocolate cupcake with fluffy white frosting and a candy pumpkin on top. I was going to copy Misty when someone called my name.

  "Angelica, is that you, dear?" Mrs. Potts asked. Mrs. Potts was my second-grade teacher, and tonight she was dressed up like a teapot, proving once and for all she had the best sense of humor.

  "Mrs. Potts. How are you? I love your costume."

  "Why thank you," she adjusted the lid-like hat on the top of her head. "I just wanted to thank you once again for recommending that cookbook. The Simmering Sisters can't get enough."