Cinnamon sat quietly on Jessica’s shoulder until they came to a place where the forest began to thin.  The path they were on petered out as the ways opened up and the forest kindly let them walk around any number of trees.  Jake looked back, curious.  There was no sign of the wall or the cemetery and he wondered how it might have vanished so instantly and completely.  Jessica did not notice.  Cinnamon began to talk quietly in her ear.

“Are you and Jake loving each other?”  Jessica looked.  Jake had his hand on the cutlass, to keep it from swinging wildly in the woods.  He was looking all around, a wise precaution since this place was so full of surprises.

“I don’t know,” Jessica said.  “We might be.  We could be, I think, but it is complicated.”

“Why is it complicated?  That is a big word so it must be a big reason.”

“Not really complicated.  I had a boyfriend before.  But Jake is different. I don’t know.  I think he is real nice, but I don’t know what he thinks.  He hardly talks to me, and I don’t know what to say to him, either.  I don’t know what to think?” 

“That’s the problem.  You are using your thinker instead of your thumper.”

“What do you mean?”

“For fairies it is easy.  We don’t have room in our little brains for all that foolish human stuff.  When a fairy likes another fairy, she simply says, “I am liking you.”  Then he says, “I am liking you, too.”  and they become friends.  When a fairy falls in love, she goes right up to him and says, “I am loving you,” and he says, “I am loving you too,” and they become lovers.

“But what if he isn’t loving her?”

“That is very sad, and the fairy goes away and cries, sometimes for a whole day, before she can have fun again.”  Cinnamon adjusted her seat to whisper very soft.  “When a fairy truly falls in love, she says, “You are my heart.”  That is when the thumper takes over and the thinker can’t think of anything or anyone else.  And if she is his heart, they become a family.”

“That sounds so simple.”

“Why shouldn’t it be simple?”

“But what if she isn’t his heart?”

“Very saddest of all.  We don’t like to think about that, but then when a fairy says someone is her heart, it can be a father or mother or sister or brother or best friend forever, so it means lots of things.”

“I wish people were that easy.  Human people, I mean.”

“Aha!”  Cinnamon jumped up and Jessica felt the breeze from the fairy’s wings.  They tickled her ear.  “I know where Greely Putterwig lives from here.”  She got excited and spun around several times until she almost made herself dizzy. 

Jessica looked where Jake was looking.  There was a cottage some ways off, down in a hollow in the woods.  It had a warm and cozy glow about it in the night, and smoke rising from the chimney.  There appeared to be roses out front, and a stone walkway that ended at the front door.  Cinnamon ruined the lovely vision with what she said.

“The witch’s house.  Wait here this time.  I’ll be right back.”  And the fairy flitted off, again with such speed neither Jake not Jessica had a chance to protest.

Jake looked at Jessica and she smiled.  He did not know what to say.  “Some Halloween, huh?”  It sounded stupid to his ears.

“I know.”  Jessica took it well.  “A real fairy.”

“And goblins.”  He could go with this for a while.

“Real Pirates.”  She pointed to the cutlass.

“Zombie Pirates.”  He corrected her.

“And Indians.”

“And skeletons.”

“Oh, and an ogre.”

“And a real live ghost.”

“Dead ghost,” Jessica said.  “I feel sorry for Thackery.”

Jake nodded in agreement, but then he ran out of things to say.  Jessica merely looked at him until he felt a little uncomfortable.  He looked away, and this time, he was the one who screamed.  Jessica looked and joined him in the scream.  There were spiders, and they were at least two feet long, not counting the eight hairy legs.  There were plenty of them.  Jake and Jessica were surrounded.

Jake carefully got out the cutlass, though he almost cut himself.  “Put your back to the tree,” he yelled.  Jessica just yelled.  Jake began to swing the cutlass, wildly.  The spiders did not care or seem to notice until the one in the lead was cut through the head.  Blood and guts squirted, and then dribbled out.

“Over here,” Jessica yelled and Jake went to stand in front of her, while the spiders slipped into the long, moon-made shadows of the trees.  They could hear the click-click of their jaws all around.  Jake cut two more when they came close, but there were too many of them.

Jessica felt something drip on her shoulder and looked up.  She screamed again.  One was in the tree, over their heads, drooling.  Jake could not reach it with the cutlass.  Jessica tore off her orange vest and tried to slap it out of the tree,  She could not reach it either, but a green light came from just down in the hallow.  It struck the spider, and the spider fell to the side, rolled to its back and curled up dead.  Jessica screamed again before they heard a woman’s voice.

“I heard ye the first time.”  The woman sounded annoyed.  She was gray haired, a bit plump from age, and lifted her plain brown dress and apron as she struggled up the hill.  She had a stick of some sort in her hand, and the green light was emanating from the stick.  Three more spiders were zapped, like with green lightning, and the spiders decided to retreat.  When the old woman came to stand in front of Jake and Jessica, she took a deep breath, like she was winded from the climb, and then raised her arms and shouted something unintelligible.  The green light formed in a circle around the three of them and their tree before it shot out like a wave made by a pebble in a still pond.  No telling how many spiders suddenly keeled over and curled up.

“Okay.  They won’t be back this Halloween night, but you don’t belong out here.  You better come inside.  Neither Jake nor Jessica had to say “this is the witch from the cottage.”  The circumstantial evidence made that crystal clear.  Jake tried to wipe the cutlass clean and put it back in his belt.  Jessica ventured a small question.

“Your house wouldn’t happen to be made of gingerbread, would it?”

The witch laughed, a healthy human laugh and not the cackle they expected.  What is more, the witch showed a kind little twinkle in her eyes that helped them relax.  “Wrong season for gingerbread.”  The witch almost stumbled on a root, but Jessica reached out to steady the old woman.  “My name is Mary,” the witch said.

“I’m Jessica and that is Jake.”

“Don’t tell me, you are following a little girl named Elizabeth.”

“My sister,” Jake perked up.  “Do you know where she is?”

“Up on the mountainside with Greely Putterwig, the hobgob.  Don’t worry, she should probably be just fine.  I’ll take you there, but after I catch my breath if you don’t mind.”

“Are you psychic?”  Jessica wondered how the witch knew all this.

“No.  Tom the cat came by and told me.  Please, come in and have some tea.  I don’t do much magic these days, at my age.  It takes so much out of you.”

Jessica caught some movement out of the corner of her eye.  It was a perfectly black cat, sitting on the lawn, washing a paw.  Jake had his eyes focused on the jack-o-lantern on the front stoop.  He was just admiring the intricately, beautifully carved features of a very frightening goblin-like face when the face moved.

“Boo!”  The pumpkin face crossed its eyes and stuck its tongue out.  Jake, and Jessica, attracted by the movement, both let out a shriek.  “Did I scare ya?”  The Pumpkin asked.  Jake and Jessica nodded.  “Good, cause the old witch put me here to guard the front door, but if I had a body I could guard it so much BETTER.”

“Oh, Jack.  You are just fine the way you are,” the witch said with a kind smile as she opened the thick oak door,.  The inside of the house let out a warm light and inviting smell.  “Come in,” she said.  “Chamomile tea I think for this time of night,” and the all entered the house.

Greely Putterwig hushed Elizabeth.  Elizabeth hushed but looked up in the old man’s face and wondered what she was hushing for.  They were once again among the trees, but this was more of a mixed forest of deciduous trees, firs and pines.  The trees were more spaced over the land than in the old growth forest, but the ground cover remained minimal.  It was like the old forest was thinning out.  It became a pleasant walk up and down little hills, rises in the ground, where the golden moonlight and innumerable stars were able to keep the world bright.  Elizabeth thought that even the shadows were not too bad, as long as the shadows did not move.

When they came to the top of a little rise, they looked down into the next dip in the land.  There was a quaint cottage, with roses out front and a vegetable garden in the back.  Elizabeth saw pumpkins growing there, and squash, and she was not sure what else.  The cottage was lit, and smoke billowed from the chimney which gave the whole thing a very warm and inviting glow.  Elizabeth very much wanted to go there, and tugged on Mister Putterwig’s hand, but the old man said no.

“That home belongs to a terrible, wicked witch,” Mister Putterwig whispered.  “Mary Procter has lived here for about three hundred and fifty years.  Her father, John Procter and his third wife, Elizabeth were condemned in old Salem Town for witchery, though there was no witchery in them.  It was Mary, daughter of his second wife that was the witch.  She escaped to the wilds of New Hampshire when she was twenty three, but the people were after her, and would have caught her if she had not come here.”  Mister Putterwig stopped babbling and wondered why Mary Procter should even matter to him.

Elizabeth tugged again to go toward the cottage, but Mister Putterwig was adamant.  “We can’t go there  If we do, she will take you away,” and he took her up the next rise in the land.

It was not much further before it became evident that the thinning forest was because the ground was becoming too rocky.  They were generally and gradually going uphill by then, like they were coming to high ground, and after a short way, Elizabeth saw the big, dark mountain loom up before her and block all the stars behind those heights.

“Where are we going?”  Elizabeth yawned. 

Mister Putterwig stopped at the top of a little hill.  He waved his hand at the distance.  “The eternal mountain.  There is a great and craggy cliff, full of all sorts of interesting caves and tunnels.  The dwarfs mine there and shape the iron into useful things.  The goblins live deep in the recesses of the mountain where they work in metals, gold and jewels.  The elves of the grove live not far up the way where they spin and weave the cloth that is shared all over Avalon.  There are others who live in and around the mountain, but…”  Mister Putterwig became quiet and they stopped walking.  “Stay here,” he said.

“Wait.  Don’t leave me, alone in the dark.”  Elizabeth clutched at Mister Putterwig’s hand.  She tried not to cry at the prospect of being left in the dark woods.

Mister Putterwig got down on one knee, then looked once around to be sure no one was watching.  He reached out and gave Elizabeth a big hug and said, “Don’t worry, child.  There is a light up ahead, and I want to be sure it isn’t dangerous.  You are safe here.  Can you count the stars?  No?  Well, why don’t you try.  See how many you can count before I come right back.  Okay?”  He stood and walked backwards for several yards before he turned and scooted up a well worn path.

Elizabeth fretted, but turned her eyes to the infinite stars in the dark sky.  She turned her back on the bright moon, which was full and seemed determined to stay big and low in the sky, a bright golden-orange globe with a smiling face.  But she fretted, because overhead there were too many stars to count.  She tried Jake’s counting method.  “One, two, skip a few.  Ninety-nine, a hundred.”  It did not help.  All it did was make her sad.  She missed her brother.  She missed her mom and dad.  She had never been out so late in her life, or so far away from home, and she was afraid she was going to be in big trouble when she finally got home.

Elizabeth jumped.  There was a rustling in the leaves and her eyes got big and focused on that one place, but she held her tongue and dared not move.  She heard a soft “meow,” and a pitch black cat came out from the trees to sit out of reach in the moonlight.  Elizabeth caught her breath and bent down with a smile.  “Kitty, kitty,” she said and held out her hand.  The cat came when invited.  She got to pet the cat, and the cat purred and rubbed up against her leg.  “You are a nice kitty.  Do you live around here?  My name is Elizabeth.  I live a long way from here, and I don’t think I know the way home.”

The cat jumped back at the sound of a twig.  It ran off when Mister Putterwig came into view.  “It’s all right.”  Mister Putterwig called before he arrived.  “It was just Nuggets the dwarf going up to the upper clearing.  He says they are having a Halloween party.  I said we might come, but it was kind of late for little girls to be out at night.”  He reached for Elizabeth’s hand, and she gave it, but not without a word.

“I should be home.  I miss my mom and dad.  I miss my brother Jacob.  I am getting sleepy.”  She punctuated her words with a big yawn.

“Child,” Mister Putterwig said in his kindest voice.  “I am taking you home.  Soon, you will forget all about that other place, and you will stay with me and care for me in my old age, and I won’t have to be alone.”

“Home?”  Elizabeth asked through another yawn.  She said no more.  She simply walked and began to climb the hill until Mister Putterwig stopped and looked up.  Elizabeth heard it too, a high pitch squeak.  Mister Putterwig made Elizabeth crouch down and he threw his body over  hers. Elizabeth heard the squeaking and then the sharp flap of leathery wings.  Mister Putterwig muttered something she did not want to hear.

“Vampire bats,” and the bats headed straight toward them.  Putterwig, the hobgoblin, was able to put up a magical shield of force around himself and his little charge.  The bats could not reach them, but Putterwig knew he could not hold out for long.  The bats, and they were big, made leathery snapping sounds with their wings, teeth and claws as they tried to get at the tasty morsels, full of fresh blood.  They rammed into Putterwig’s shield over and over.  Every time they struck, Putterwig let out a groan, like a man being punched in the stomach, and Elizabeth cried out, giving voice to her fear. 

The bats circled round and round, looking for a way in until suddenly they flew off.  Elizabeth heard a different sound, more like a deep screech than a high squeak.  Mister Putterwig slowly looked around as he lifted his head.  Elizabeth heard leathery wings that were much bigger than bat wings, and she hid her face once again in Mister Putterwig’s belly, afraid it might be a dragon.

One set of great wings landed nearby, and Elizabeth ventured a peek.  It was about three feet tall, with legs, and arms as well as wings, and the arms and legs ended in claws.  It had two little horns, and sharp, pointed ears to match the sharp pointed teeth, and it was all greenish-gray, and it was talking.

“Greely, is this the tike?  Don’t you know what the penalty is for stealing children?  I pity you when Lady Alice finds out.”

“I don’t care.  I don’t care.”  Mister Putterwig shouted back and  held tight to Elizabeth, like she was his protector rather than the other way around.  “We used to always take the discarded little girls to raise in their own community until they were old enough.”

“Yeah, six thousand years ago, and only babies.”

“I don’t care.  I am keeping Elizabeth.  She is my friend.”

The creature shrugged, but said nothing more as it took to wing.  Mister Putterwig started them walking again and muttered some more while they went.  “What do pixies know?  They live in caves and hunt bats to eat raw.  I wouldn’t expect them to understand.”  Elizabeth tugged on Mister Putterwig’s arm.  “What?”  He faced her and said it too loud and in much too rough a manner, which he immediately regretted.  Elizabeth temporarily shrank back, but at last pulled up the courage to ask.

“Are we friends?”

Old Putterwig’s face almost broke.  “Yes,” he said, without a doubt, and they walked, his face held high so the little girl could not see the tear that formed in the old man’s eye.

When Jake and Jessica got to the walkway outside the old growth forest, they were at a complete loss.  They had lost all footprints and indication of direction when they entered the leaf strewn forest, and now they saw two equal options on a rugged path lined by a six foot wall.

Cinnamon fluttered, hovered and turned her head to look one way and then the other.

Jake looked at the wall and wondered what was behind it.

Jessica was still wondering how goblins could be so scary and so hilarious at the same time.  Clowns, she supposed.  She knew some people were afraid of clowns.

“Wait here,” Cinnamon said.  “I have to check to find the right way.  Oh, and don’t go over the wall.”  She flew off, almost faster than their eyes could follow; certainly faster than they could frame a question.

“I was wondering, what’s with the wall.  Is it there to keep people out or keep something in?”  After the goblins, he could not help the spooky voice.

Jessica shook her head.  “After what we have seen this night, I don’t think any teenage spooky voice will ever scare me again.”

“So what is over there?”  Jake walked a little way down the path.  “Hey, it looks like a gate.  Cool.”  He was looking through the bars of the gate.

“What?”  Jessica went reluctantly.  “Cinnamon said don’t go in there.”

“No, she said don’t climb over the wall.”  He checked.  The gate squeaked, but it was not locked.  “She didn’t say we can’t go through the gate.”  He grabbed Jessica’s hand and pulled her in.  “Cool,” he said again.

“It’s a graveyard.”  Jessica resisted.

“But who could be buried here?  Aren’t you at all curious?”

“Not really,” Jessica said, but she followed him in about three rows.  The names seemed normal enough, but Jake took her hand again and ran her up a path to the top of a small rise.  From there, they looked out over a cemetery that seemed endless.

“Woah.”  Jake mouthed the word.  “Who are all these people.”  The graves continued, easily seen under a bright, harvest moon, until it became a gray line in the distance and finally turned black on the horizon.

“I don’t like this,” Jessica said, and she tugged to go back.

“Look.”  Jake noticed something three graves in.  It was a cutlass, and not entirely rusted as he expected.  He picked it up and turned to show Jessica when there was a rumbling at his feet. 

“John the Butcher Roberts”  Jessica read the headstone before she grabbed on to Jake to steady herself.  It felt like a miniature earthquake.  Then a head popped up from the grave, a dead head, definitely a pirate and he saw his cutlass.

“Ah, ha.  So that’s where I left it.  Hand it here, mate, and I’ll kill ya quick.”

Jake and Jessica ran.  There were Pirates rising in every direction, and the gate was cut off by stumbling zombies.  They tried for the wall, but there were skeletons dancing there.  They started to weave around the headstones, but the Pirates were waking up.

Jessica stumbled when the ground shook again beneath her feet.  Jake tried to help her up, but fell beside her.  Two gravestones rose up by their heads.  One said, Jacob, Jake Simon.  the other said Jessica Cobb.  Jessica screamed as the ground beneath them began to open into great, six-foot holes.  The only reprieve they got from the Pirates was when they were distracted by the oncoming Mohawk war party.  Then came their salvation.  A great roar echoed from the gate.

“Supper!”  A slimy, ugly ogre burst into the graveyard, drooling and ready to chow down on the dead.  The skeletons guarding the gate all screamed and ran for their lives.  One of the Pirates pointed and hollered a warning. 

“Avast ye swabs.  It’s Pusshead.”  The Pirates and Indians all scattered, and Pusshead roared right past the couple in pursuit.

Jake and Jessica helped each other out of their respective graves and ran for the gate.  Jake held tight to the cutlass, not knowing when he might need it.  Jessica cared about nothing but getting the wall between her and the zombies.  She slammed the gate with a vengeance once they were out and huffing and puffing.

“That was really stupid,” Jessica said.

“Yeah,” Jake agreed.  “But I got us a weapon.”  He swung it a couple of times which prompted Jessica to holler.

“Watch it.” 

Jake did not argue.  He loosened his belt so he could slip the blade in by his side.  Jessica watched, so neither saw the figure approach.

“Excuse me.  Pardon me,” the man said.  Jake and Jessica looked up, gasped and took a step back.  It was a ghost.  They could see through the man, though he seemed solid enough from the waist up, if translucent.  From his knickers down he became more transparent until his feet were utterly invisible.  But then, he was floating a couple of feet off the ground so he might not need the feet.

“I am sorry to bother you, but have either of you seen my wife?  Abigail Barrett by name.  We were traveling by coach from Boston to Brattleboro where I was invited to practice law, when we were waylaid by robbers in the wilds of New Hampshire.  Bullets were fired.  My wife slumped into my shoulder, and I thought there was blood on her forehead.  I leapt out to give the robbers what for, but the next thing I knew, I was lost in the forest and I can’t seem to find the coach.”

Jake was too stunned to talk, but Jessica was entranced by the story.  “My name is Jessica Cobb, and this is Jake, Jacob Simon.”

“Of course, we haven’t been properly introduced.  I am Thackery James Barrett, Esquire.  Harvard, class of eighteen twelve.  You seem like good New England stock.  Surely I am near my destination.” 

“I am sorry,” Jessica said.  “I know the road to Brattleboro, but I don’t know how to get there from here.”

“Alas, I spoke to a young lady just a short time past.  She was most polite, but could tell me nothing at all.”

“Elizabeth?”  Jake raised his voice.  “My sister.”

“Yes, I believe that was her name.  The fellow she was with seemed most unsavory.”

“She was kidnapped.  Do you know where she is?”

The ghost spun once around.  “I am afraid I cannot say.  These woods have me confused.  Thus I have wandered for some time today.  Do you know where the road to Brattleboro might be?

“Thackery.”  Jake and Jessica turned their heads at the sound of Cinnamon’s voice, but what they saw was a beautiful woman, perhaps in her mid to late twenties, dressed in a long, flowing, fitted gown walking slowly up the path.

“Most beautiful lady.  Have we met before?”

“Indeed we have,” Cinnamon said, and Jake and Jessica realized that was who it was.  “And you must go in that direction until you find the pine trees.  Then you will know you are close.”

“My thanks.  I pray I may return your kindness some day,” the ghost said and headed off into the woods.

“Cinnamon?” Jessica asked, though she knew the answer.  Jake just stared.  The fairy was inhumanly beautiful in her big form, with the perfect tan on perfect skin and eyes that sparkled and full lips that showed the slightest bit of a sly smile.  Then she was gone, and the fairy was back, fluttering her wings to stay aloft. 

“This is the right direction,” she said.  “You went into the graveyard,” she pointed and scolded Jake.  “Thackery probably did run into Eliza-BETH, but he has very limited memory retention.  The only thing he is able to really remember is his last thoughts, his thoughts for his wife, Abigail.  Shall we go?”

Jake and Jessica did not know what to say, until Jessica whispered.  “She does flit from subject to subject.  I bet she doesn’t dwell on things either.”

“I don’t,” Cinnamon heard.  “It’s a fairy thing.”  She came back and settled again on Jessica’s shoulder, though Jessica was a bit wary about having a full grown woman on her shoulder.  Jake was still taken by that vision of loveliness.  He would need a bit more time before his tongue unfroze.

Elizabeth and Mister Putterwig walked toward the light.  They had been walking through an old growth forest of oak, maple, elm and birch for some time.  The forest floor had some bushes,. brambles, thorn and briars, and plenty of fallen lumber, from twigs to whole trees, but mostly it was covered in generations of fallen leaves.  It was impossible to walk without crunching every step.

Elizabeth did not mind the crunch.  She snapped a few twigs on purpose.  She also liked the fact that they were headed toward the light.  She was not afraid in the dark when she was with Mister Putterwig.  He was a grown-up, and she trusted him to protect her.  But light was better.  The woods were kind of spooky.

Greely Putterwig was much more cautious.  If it was a fairy circle filled with all sorts of people and creatures celebrating Halloween, they were in trouble.  He did not think it was the dance because he did not hear the music, the enchanted kind that would make poor humans dance until they dropped.  But if it wasn’t a Halloween celebration, well, the alternative was probably worse.  “Confounded curiosity,” Mister Putterwig swore, and he hushed Elizabeth as much as he could when they reached a point where he could look out through the branches

A bonfire in a big clearing lit the night, and there were dancers of a sort.  They were goblins, and a couple of trolls, and Mister Putterwig found his hand automatically drawn to cover Elizabeth’s mouth.  The dancers were frightening, with horns and tails and snake-like eyes over tusks and very wide mouths with very sharp teeth.  There were noses and ears of all shapes and sizes, and they had claws instead of hands and sometimes instead of feet.  They wore rags and had skulls and human looking fingers and toes for necklaces and bracelets that sounded click and clack in a kind of rhythm under the moonlight.  Worst of all were the grunt, howls and shrieks that filled the air and obscured whatever ghastly music was being made on such odd instruments and drums.  Indeed, the music was mostly drums, and someone older than Elizabeth might have wondered where they got the skins for drumheads. 

Elizabeth didn’t think that.  When she wriggled her mouth free, she said, “They look like they are having fun.”

Mister Putterwig looked down at the little girl, astounded by her innocence.  “All the same, it would be best if we moved on quietly so we don’t disturb them.”

Elizabeth nodded.  She trusted.  And together they took three whole steps before they found themselves surrounded by three goblins and a troll.

“Greely Putterwig,” the goblin with the red eyes spoke with a haunting voice guaranteed to send chills down the nearest spine.

“Marrow, Worms, Maggot.”  Mister Putterwig named the goblins like they were old friends.  “And Big Tooth.  Haven’t seen you in a while.”  He named the troll.

“What have you got here?”  Marrow leaned down in Elizabeth’s face, but she was holding tight to Mister Putterwig’s hand and had her eyes closed.  “A little human girl.  Bet she’s tasty.”

 “She isn’t yours.  I got her fair and square.  She is my friend, mine alone, and belongs to me, so back off.”  Mister Putterwig growled.

Elizabeth ventured a look to see if Mister Putterwig was indeed her friend, but she saw the goblins and the troll and shrieked.  She threw her arms around Putterwig’s middle and buried her face in his belly.  He put his arms around her and did finally smile, and cooed that she shouldn’t be afraid and everything would be alright.

“What do you mean she is yours?” Worms asked.

“Where can we get one of those?” Maggot complained.

“Fairy food?”  Big Tooth suggested, and Marrow’s eyes got big.

“Do you know the penalty for stealing human children?” Marrow shouted.

“I don’t care.”  Mister Putterwig responded with a sharp look and a haughty stare.  “You touch one hair on her head and Lady Alice will know, and it won’t be from me telling her, either.”

“Boys,”  Marrow took a step back.  “I think we best leave this one alone.”  They all began to step back.  Marrow saluted.   “See ya around,” he said, and the goblins and troll went back to the dance.

Marrow took them all the way to the back of the bonfire and whispered so Putterwig would not hear with his good hobgoblin ears.  What Marrow did not know was Jake, Jessica and Cinnamon were right at the edge of the trees, listening.

“We can blackmail old Putterwig and get him to let us use his portal to the human world.  There are lots of children out on Halloween night.  We can scare them to death, and then we can feast.

“I want to eat so much I have to throw up to make room for more,” Worms said out loud as he began to drool.

“I claim the throw up,” Maggot yelled, and the other three gave him a disgusted look.

“Quiet.” Marrow slapped Worms in the forehead for talking too loud.

“Hey!”

“As for you,” Marrow grabbed Maggot’s earlobe and pulled so his head had to follow.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”

Marrow let go and Maggot’s head clunked into Worm’s head.  There was a definite hollow sounding “Pop!” when they hit.

Jake and Jessica, who were terrified by the sight of the goblins, now had to keep themselves from giggling.  Cinnamon floated up from Jessica’s shoulder and sprinkled the two with some dust.  Jake and Jessica found their feet lifted off the ground.

“Walkies,” Cinnamon whispered, and Jake and Jessica found they could walk perfectly well in mid-air.  Of course, they made no crunching sounds in the air.

“Wait a minute,” They heard Big Tooth rumble.  “I smell fairy.”

Cinnamon simply said, “Runnies!”

###

“Come along,” Mister Putterwig said with his haughty nose still up in the air.  He took Elizabeth’s hand this time without her reaching for his, and they walked for a time is silence.  They reached the edge of the woods where a path skirted the trees.  Across the path was a big stone wall and that seemed a curiosity to Elizabeth.  She had to ask when they came to a gate.

“What is on the other side of the wall?”

Mister Putterwig took her to the gate where they could peak in.  “It is a place you don’t want to go.  It’s the infinite graveyard, and this being Halloween, it is the one night of the year when the dead rise from their graves.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth saw the grave stones and moved to Mister Putterwig’s other side so she had him between her and the wall.

“Now don’t worry.  They can’t go beyond the wall.  We are perfectly safe on this side.”  And he smiled again as he took her down the walk to the fens.

Elizabeth Simon, all of seven-years-old, finished at 315 Bleeker Street, but when she went to the sidewalk, she saw her brother occupied with some big kids.  She did not interrupt, and decided to go to the next house as she had been taught.  She liked the house.  It was dark and spooky, the way she thought Halloween was supposed to be.  The unkempt yard cast all sorts of odd shadows across the walk, and the rickety porch squeaked under her steps.  She even found a big spider web in the corner next to the post, up near the roof, and she was impressed.

The old man was in the rocker, watching.  Elizabeth saw him from the front walk, so he did not startle her.  “Child,” he said.  “What do you want?”

“Trick or treat,” Elizabeth said her line and held out her shopping bag, and smiled.

“Trick or treat?  Trick or treat is it?  What a quaint custom.”  Mister Putterwig glanced ever so briefly at the young people out on the street and he thought he could easily make the little girl disappear.  “I have a treat,” he said and held out his hand.  It was the biggest, most chocolaty, gooey mess Elizabeth had ever seen.  “But only good little girls can have some,” he warned.

Elizabeth’s hand hesitated.  “I try to be good.”

“Wisely spoken,” old man Putterwig conceded.  “Try it.”

She did, and when the old man held out his other hand to take her hand, there was nothing more she wanted in the whole world than to go with this kindly old man.  When they entered the house and came out among the pine trees, Elizabeth had a question.

“Where are we going?”

“To a land of wonders and enchantment and magic, and keep walking.”  Mister Putterwig looked back in case he was being followed.

“The land of the fairies?”  Elizabeth sounded excited.

“I suppose there are some around,” Mister Putterwig made another concession.  “But once you eat fairy food, you become captive to the little ones, or in this case, me   Now, you have to do whatever I tell you.”

“Oh, yes.  But I don’t mind because you are such a nice man.”

Mister Putterwig’s face turned red and then purple.  “First of all, I am not nice.  I am grumpy and, um, mean.  I can be very mean.  And second of all, I am not a man.”

Elizabeth stopped and looked up into the man’s eyes.  He contorted his face with a big toothy grin and squinted his beady little eyes.  Elizabeth shrieked and looked away.  “There, see?”  Mister Putterwig sounded proud, like he proved his point.  “I told you I could be mean.”

“No, that isn’t it,” Elizabeth said.  “You looked like a clown face and I’m scared of clowns.”

“Oh,”  Mister Putterwig deflated before he looked up, sharply.  They heard Jake calling. “Eliza-BETH.”  Mister Putterwig barely got his hand over Elizabeth’s mouth in time.  “Don’t answer him.  Come on,  Hurry.”  They began to walk again and picked up their pace.  It was a few minutes before they slowed again and Mister Putterwig had a question.

“So, do you have a name?”

“Elizabeth.  Elizabeth Simon.”

“Well, Elizabeth-Elizabeth Simon, my name is Greely Putterwig, and I am a Hobgoblin.”

“I’m a fairy,” Elizabeth responded, happily.

“What?”  Mister Putterwig eyed her closely.

“My costume.  Don’t I look like a fairy?”

“Not too much,”  Mister Putterwig said, and seemed relieved.  “You’re a bit big.”

“But I got wings and everything.”

“I see that.  Turn around.”  Elizabeth turned and Mister Putterwig adjusted her wings to set them more squarely on her back.  “That’s better.  Now you look more fairy-like”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, and reached for Mister Putterwig’s hand, who took her little hand and almost appeared to smile.

They started to walk again.  The pine forest was not too dark, the trees not grown too close together.  There was plenty of room overhead for starlight to find the forest floor.  Elizabeth saw some snow on the firs and she could not help her thoughts.  “Do you know any Christmas Carols?” she asked.

Mister Putterwig stopped and looked angry for a moment, but one look into Elizabeth’s innocent face and he decided to think about it.  A hoot owl sounded out not too far from where they stood.  He started them walking again and sang, “Oh, you better watch out.”  He stopped there, and Elizabeth giggled.

“That’s not it.  It goes, “Oh, you better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout I’m tellin’ you why…”

“Stop, stop.  Stop!”  Mister Putterwig waved his big hands back and forth, shook his head and snarled.  Elizabeth stopped, worried that she got it wrong.  “You can cry and pout if you want to. Go ahead and cry.  And Pouting is an old family tradition, my family I mean.  “Oh, you better watch out” is the only part I sing.  There’s reasons for that we don’t need to go into just now.”

Elizabeth tried to nod and agree, but all she could do was scream.  An eight foot ogre stood directly in their path.  He was ugly, tusky, full of boils and puss and with more sharp teeth than anyone would consider reasonable.  He had long arms and short legs, all the size of tree trunks, and apparently carried a separate tree of some sort in one hand, which was his club.  He also had a spark of intelligence in his eyes which said this creature is fully capable of chasing you and eating you, though to be fair, the spark of intelligence was a very small one.

“Eliza-BETH!”  The sound came from a long way off, much further than before

“Jake!”  Elizabeth shouted back.  She recognized the voice.

Mister Putterwig looked back and said, “Quiet.  I said don’t answer him.  Now, run.”  They ran and Mister Putterwig mumbled.  “Leave it to Pusshead to ruin everything.”

Elizabeth was glad to run from the ogre.  She was a bit upset when the ogre spoke over her head.

“What are we running from?”

Elizabeth screamed and stumbled.  Old Mister Putterwig scooped her up and ran at a spritely pace.  In fact, even carrying the little girl, the old man ran fast enough to lose the ogre somewhere in the forest.

Every town in America has one house on one street where no one dares to go.  In Keene, that house was 317 Bleeker Street where old man Putterwig lived alone in the dark.  The grass in the yard was always brown and never quite cut.  The gate in the picket fence let out an excruciating squeak when opened.  The paint looked old and faded and was chipping a bit off the long wooden front porch with the creaking floorboards.  Now and then Mister Putterwig could be seen on that porch, sitting in an old rocker, taking in the life that passed before his eyes.  No one ever saw him leave that house, but mostly no one wanted to look.  The adults all said they felt sorry for old Mister Putterwig, widower that he was, but when he was out front watching, they hurried passed the house, afraid of the glare in the man’s squinting yellow eyes.  The kids knew better.  There was something more than just odd about Greely Putterwig.

Bleeker street was a good, solid neighborhood full of fine middle class citizens, with plenty of kids to fill the schools.  Jake Simon, a high school junior lived there with his parents and his seven-year-old surprise little sister, Elizabeth, whom he had to watch every day after school because mom and dad both worked.  Jake wanted to play soccer.  He wanted to join the Sci-Fi club at school.  He imagined all sorts of thing he might have done if Elizabeth never came along and ruined his life.  When Jake thought like that, he would say, “What life?”  And he would sit down at the game console and tell Elizabeth to go to her room.  It all would have been so much easier if Elizabeth was a brat instead of the kind and loving child she was.  Dad said she got it from her mother.  Mom blamed Dad.  All Jake said was she didn’t get it from me.

Jake imagined most of all, that things might be different if he was really good at something.  His childhood friend Robert Block, the one they all called Blockhead was on the football team.  Tommy had money, that is, Thomas Kincaid Junior who had not been seen without sunglasses in several years.  Mike Lee was a nerd who could not only win every video game, but could fix the console if it should break.  Jake had no special skills or talents or abilities.  He was average, normal, middle of the road in the middle of the class, or as he described his life, boring.  No wonder Jessica Cobb was not interested in him.

It was late in October, the leaves were almost all down and the air was almost crisp enough to frost, when Jake picked up the mail and found a note from Vanessa Smith inviting him to a Halloween party.  Jake was thrilled because she and Jessica were good friends so he was sure Jessica would be there.  He fixed some food and waited for Elizabeth to come home on the school bus when there was a knock on the door.  Tommy and Mike were there, and they brought their magic decks.  They wanted a three-way game, and Jake got taken out first.

“My deck’s too big.  It needs work,” he said.  Then he casually mentioned the invitation, and Mike and Tommy immediately had to spoil it by saying they got invited too.

“Everyone got invited.  The whole junior class,” Tommy said.

“I’m going as a nerd,” Mike said.

“Thomas Kincaid Junior, mister Cool,” Tommy shook his long hair and adjusted his shades.  “What are you going as?”

Type casting, Jake thought.  “A babysitter,” he said as he heard Elizabeth come in the back door.

Tommy and Mike packed up and headed for the door and Tommy’s car.  Tommy’s parents had the money to buy him a car, even if it was an economical model.

“Mister Donut?” Tommy asked and offered.  They all knew the answer, and as they left, Elizabeth came into the living room and switched on the television.

Jake turned and had a touch of anger in his voice.  “Don’t you have homework?”

“Not in the second grade,” Elizabeth said as she found the cartoon channel.

“You know that will rot your brain,” he said, and instantly thought of several good comebacks, like, Are you speaking from experience?  Is that what happened to you?  Or even the proverbial, “Like you should know.”  Elizabeth said none of those things.  She looked up with an innocent, trusting face.

“It is only cartoons.  Would that be alright?”

Jake regularly disliked himself.  He did have homework and took himself up to his room.

When Halloween rolled around, Jake found he could not go to Vanessa’s party anyway.  Mom had cooking and cleaning to catch up on and Dad would not be home until later.  Jake had to take Elizabeth out so she could trick or treat, and he really resented her for that.

They planned to follow Jake’s old route which wound around the neighborhood in a way where they did not miss any houses and did not have to backtrack.  It was a well designed plan, and Bleeker Street was first on the list.   The one hundred block was mostly buildings, and a group of apartments set back from the road which Jake always found to be slim pickings.  They didn’t go there.  The two hundred block was where the houses began, and Jake took Elizabeth to the first couple of doors, and then he stayed on the sidewalk and let her go alone, now that she knew what to do.  They came to the three hundred block.

Elizabeth went up to 315 when Tommy roared to a halt.  Mike was riding shotgun.  Jessica and Serena Smith were squeezed in the back with Blockhead.

“Lookin’ for you, dude.”  Tommy sported a new pair of shades.

“Nice costume,” Jake let the sarcasm flow.  Mike at least looked like he ironed his white nerd shirt.  Blockhead had on a football jersey.  At least Jessica and Serena made an attempt.  Jessica had on a plaid shirt and jeans that fit her well, but over the shirt she had the orange vest of a hunter.  She even wore a ball cap with a gun of some kind as the logo.  Serena, the glam-girl, was supposed to be a zombie, albeit a cute one that was not too rotten.

“I was going to say, what are you supposed to be?”  Serena asked.

“Babysitter,” Jake answered with a straight face.  “I’m taking my little sister trick or treating.”

“You’re going to miss the party,” Blockhead had party on the brain.  He slipped his arm over Serena’s shoulder but she shrugged it off.

“I know,” Jake responded.  “I sometimes wish Elizabeth would just disappear.  Then maybe I could have a life.”  He looked straight at Jessica.

“You don’t mean that,” Jessica stared right back at him.

Jake looked to the side.  “I don’t know what I mean anymore.”

“Hey dude.”  Tommy got their attention.  “Your sister is with old man Putterwig.”

“What?  No.”  Jake turned in time to see the old man take Elizabeth’s hand and walk inside the house. “No!”  Jake screamed and started to run, Jessica right on his heels.  The gate out front slammed shut on the others who took a second to get it open.  When they reached the porch, the last touch of the sun dipped below the horizon and the front door slammed shut, and it locked itself.  Jake and Jessica made it inside, but the rest were stuck outside.

When Jake and Jessica leaped into the house, they became very confused.  Instead of a downstairs hallway, their feet came down in an ancient pine forest with needles and pinecones littering the ground beneath their feet a foot thick.  The last of the purple sunset was fading and the stars were coming out bright and twinkling above their heads. They caught a glimpse of the doorway they came through, but before they could react, the door shrank and disappeared altogether with a loud “Snap!”

“What the Hell?” Jessica mumbled.  Jake had something more pressing on his mind.

“Elizabeth!”  He shouted.  “Eiliza-BETH!”