J. H. Reynolds - Monsterstreet #2: The Halloweeners

F isher gripped the straps of his backpack as he trudged down Maple Street, gazing in each window at the silhouettes of boys and girls putting on homemade costumes and nibbling on fresh-baked treats. Jack-o-lanterns grinned at him from cobwebbed porches. Blow-up monsters and plastic gravestones loomed on leaf-covered lawns. And the sugary scent of candy wafted through the crisp autumn air, enchanting his nostrils. It seemed every house on the block was decorated for Halloween.

All except one.

The house at the end of Maple Street looked just as ordinary as it did on any other day of the year. There wasnt a single pumpkin, not one fake spider, not even a sign that greeted guests with Happy Halloween!

Fisher walked up to the door of the house, turned the brass knob, and stepped inside. He reached down to pet his cat, and heard his moms voice echoing from the kitchen....

... Yes, I accept the position. Well be there before Thanksgiving. Im very much looking forward to this opportunity.

Fisher peeked around the corner just as his mom hung up the phone. She was wearing jeans and a sweater, and her short brown hair looked darker in the shadows where she sat.

Who was that? Fisher asked.

His mom winced, startled. No one.

It had to be someone, Fisher pried.

His mom sighed.

If you must know, I was offered a vice principal position in that town on the coast I was telling you about.

Were moving... again? Fishers voice reeked of disappointment.

You know how much I dont like being here, his mom said. I lived in this town, and in this house, long enough while I was growing up. I told you when we moved this summer that it was only a temporary stop for you and me after the divorceuntil we could get settled somewhere better.

But Im just starting to get used to this place, Fisher said. Some guys at school even asked me to go trick-or-treating with them tonight. Do you know how hard it is to get invited to something at a new school? Everyones had the same friends since kindergarten.

You can make new friends after we move, his mom replied.

Thats what you said last time, and so thats what Im trying to do, Fisher pointed out.

Theres no negotiating on this, his mom said.

Fisher felt the hot fire of anger burning in his chest, and he tried to push it down deep where he kept all his feelings. But it was too much to hold in.

If you and Dad hadnt gotten a divorce, I never would have had to leave my friends in the first place! he erupted like a volcano.

His mom was silent. Fisher knew mentioning the divorce was a powerful weapon, and he only used it when he felt he had no other choice.

Youre entitled to your own feelings about it. And so am I, his mom said, but her words felt cold. Like she wasnt listening to him. Ever since the divorce, he felt like he and his mom were living on two different planets with nothing in common but their last name.

Why do you have to be so selfish? Fisher mumbled.

What did you say?

Fisher debated whether to say it again. Instead, he said something worse.

Dad wouldnt make me move again.

He saw the color of anger fill his moms face.

Well, your dad isnt here, is he? And as long as youre living under my roof, youll live by my rules.

I hate your rules! Fisher shouted, still unable to control his temper.

Thats it, young man. Youre grounded, she said in her principal-like voice.

But what about Halloween?

Doesnt make any difference to me what day it is, she returned. You know I dont care for Halloween anyway.

But Mom!

With that attitude, you can stay in your room for the entire weekend. Ive already put some moving boxes upstairs, so you can get an early start on packing.

Thats not fair!

Okay. The next month! Keep it up and youll be grounded for the rest of sixth grade.

He stared at her for a long moment, then decided arguing would only make things worse. He turned and walked up the stairs to his bedroom and lay down in his reading tent, where he kept his stash of comic books and monster figurines.

He heard his mom shout from downstairs, By the way, I have to chaperone the Halloween dance at the high school later, so Ill bring your dinner up before I leave. And no TV while Im goneI dont want you having nightmares from all those monster movies that will be on tonight!

Fisher glanced across the room to the pile of cardboard boxes waiting to be filled. He had just unpacked everything a few months before, and now his mom was making him do it all again.

Why cant Mom just listen to me for once? And why cant she just let me go trick-or-treating?

Right then, a staticky sound buzzed over the walkie-talkie in his backpack.

A boys raspy voice came through. The meetings about to start. You coming or what?

F isher ripped the white sheet from his bed and used his pocketknife to cut out two oval holes for his eyes.

This will have to do for my costume, he whispered, tucking the ghost sheet into his backpack and climbing out the window.

As soon as his feet hit the ground, he ran to his bike. Then he pedaled as fast as he could into the forest at the edge of the neighborhood, just as the boy on the walkie-talkie had told him to do.

The afternoon sun beamed through the skeleton trees, bathing the woods with an eerie autumn glow. Red and brown leaves crunched beneath his tires as he passed an old graveyard, running his fingers over the spikes of the rusted iron fence. A hundred yards up, he arrived at a giant oak tree three times the size of any others in sight. Its limbs were gnarled, twisted, and full of knots. A deep hollow stared out from its trunk like the eye socket of a skull.

Fisher saw three other bikes lying on the ground near the base of the tree, and he knew he was in the right place.

High above, a tree house was cradled within its limbs, hidden in camouflage.

A handmade wooden sign hung on its side:

THE HALLOWEENERS

Est. 1955

Hey, Im here! he shouted, a bit nervous.

A moment later, a boy wearing a tuxedo with a red bow tie and a black top hat looked over the edge of the tree house.

But...

The boy was missing his head.

A mysterious empty space existed between the neck of his suit and his floating top hat. Fisher soon noticed a wire connecting the two, creating the illusion of an invisible man.

Champ? Fisher called up, recognizing the boys voice.

Two hands peeled open the chest of the tuxedo, and a plump face dotted with freckles peeked out.

Took you long enough! Champ teased, shoving a handful of potato chips into his mouth. Just pull the rope in the hollow and come on up!

Fisher reached into the tree hollow and pulled on a rope hidden in the shadows. A secret ladder was triggered, clattering down to him from above.

He climbed, rung by rung, and opened the secret door at the bottom of the hideout.

Champ stood above him, waiting.