The Pumpkin Man

It was the man at the table, and Jenn realized the old couple was staring intently at her. “We don’t know yet,” she said.

“Well, don’t,” the old man advised. The pale blue of his eyes flashed like ice. “You go back to where you came from and live a happy life.”

Jenn opened her mouth to answer, then stopped. She wasn’t really sure what to say. Travis didn’t help either; his eyes roved from her to Kirstin and back, as if trying to memorize every bit of them while he had the opportunity.

She nudged her friend. “C’mon. Let’s get what we came for.”

She and Kirstin gathered their supplies, cans of beans and corned beef hash, returning every few minutes to stack things on the counter as the store wasn’t large enough to have shopping carts. Travis didn’t say anything more, and the atmosphere in the store seemed to have grown patently unfriendly. Jenn could feel eyes on her back as she moved through the aisles.

As they checked out, Travis nodded, one curl of his wavy black hair jittering nervously over his ear. Jennica had to stifle a grin.

“You take care,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything at all.”

They put the groceries in the back of the car and climbed in themselves, and Jenn looked at Kirstin with raised eyes. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, I’d say Travis likes me.”

“Not that. Everybody likes you. I meant the old guy!”

“He probably likes me, too!” Kirstin laughed. Then she looked nervous. “I’d say your aunt wasn’t very popular around here. Probably because she was a witch.”

“Not exactly the welcome wagon,” Jenn agreed.

“Yeah, and Casey’s isn’t sounding like it’s going to be a great hangout, either.”

Jennica eyed her moping friend. “I warned you that Meredith didn’t exactly live in the center of civilization. But I’m sure Travis will watch George Romero movies with you and hold your hand when you get scared.”

“Lovely,” Kirstin answered. “I can feel a trip to San Francisco coming on.”

“Well, we have to return the rental this week anyway. You can follow me down in Aunt Meredith’s car and we’ll check it out.”

The girls spent the rest of the day unpacking and settling in, stocking the fridge and putting their clothes away. Jenn felt a little strange filling her aunt’s drawers with her own socks and panties and bras. She had to keep telling herself, “This is my place now.” But it didn’t feel like it. There was too much of her aunt still here. And too many snakes! She picked up a silver serpent from the top of the dresser and shoved it in a drawer. There’d been a ceramic statue on the kitchen counter, too. Meredith had apparently been into collecting them.

Jenn unwrapped a silver frame with a photo of her dad and propped him on the dresser. At least that made it look a little more like her room. Of course, it also made her taste the draught of sadness again. As much as she’d been independent, every time she thought of him being gone a pain spread across her chest. He’d been her anchor. Distant, but solid. Whenever she’d had a problem, she knew she could count on him to help her solve it. Now there was nobody.

“Jenn, do you know how to work this can opener?”

She grinned to herself. Okay, maybe there was somebody, but the help was usually going in the opposite direction. She walked to the kitchen and helped her friend position the can correctly, then pressed the handle of the mechanical opener to make the can chug around until the lid popped off.

“Sometimes you’re really blonde,” she observed. She pulled open the kitchen utensil drawer and in a moment held up a manual can opener. “Why didn’t you just use this?”

Kirstin just shrugged.

Jenn laughed and put the opener back. Something else in the drawer caught her eye, though, so she opened it farther.

“Huh,” she said, reaching in. A key hung from a tiny nail three-quarters of the way back. “I wonder what this goes to.”

Kirstin took it from her and walked to the kitchen door, which she opened. Trying the key in the outer lock, it wouldn’t go in. “Not the back door,” she observed. “Maybe the front?”

They walked to the front room, but the key didn’t work there either.

“I bet I know,” Jenn said, and led Kirstin down the hall. “Try it on that.” She pointed to the locked door she’d discovered in her bedroom. “I thought it might be a bathroom this morning, but it’s locked.”

“Who locks a bathroom from the outside?” Kirstin laughed and tried the key. It slipped in easily. “Ha!” she exclaimed. She twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

Jennica screamed, and both girls jumped back three feet.

“What the hell is that?” Kirstin whispered, staring at the dark shape beyond. Its eyes stared straight at them. The teeth were bared, ready to bite.

Jenn held a hand to her chest; her heart pounded hard. “It’s okay,” she said and stepped forward again, forcing herself to ignore the malevolence of the creature’s gaze. “It’s dead.”

The doorway opened to a staircase that led down into darkness, but at the top of the landing, the ceiling dropped enough that you’d need to duck as you descended. Nailed to the wall at eye level was a black bat, wings spread wide. For a second, Jennica had the illusion that the bat was flying straight at her.

“Gross,” Kirstin said, peering cautiously closer. “Who nails bats up in their houses?”

“Apparently my aunt,” Jennica said. She closed the door. “Lock it. I’m not going down there.”

After dinner, they decided to try the fireplace. There was a stand of chopped wood on the side of the house.

Kirstin had never built a fire, but Jenn had, so she got on her knees with a candle and peeked into the firebox to open the flue. Then she piled some kindling into the log holder and stacked on a few pieces of wood. She held a lit match to some rolled-up newspaper beneath the logs, then sat back to watch the orange flame flicker and grow. When she was satisfied it was going to take without further help, she grabbed the rock edge of the fireplace to boost herself up.

As she put her weight on the rock, it shifted and she fell backward, letting go of the rock and landing with a thump.

Kirstin laughed from behind her. “What the hell was that?”

“The rock moved!”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious. Check it out!”

With both hands, Jennica grabbed the rock and shifted it right and left. It slid out of place with almost no effort at all. She set it down on the cement ledge at the base of the fireplace and stared at the resulting hole.

“There’s something in there,” she realized, and reached her arm in to pull it out.

It was a varnished rectangular board, which she laid on the ledge next to the displaced stone. Kneeling down to examine it, she found the face etched in black with the symbols of the moon and sun at the upper left and right corners, next to the words YES and NO. The center featured the alphabet in rough yet still ornate gouges, burned into the wood in three lines. Below the alphabet, on the left side, was the word HELLO and on the right GOODBYE. There were also the numerals 1-9 and two circles with stars embedded inside.

“Whoa,” Kirstin said, kneeling beside her. “What is it?”

“It’s a Ouija board,” Jenn said, tilting it back and forth. “They use them to talk to the dead.”

“Witches? Like when they join hands and have seances and stuff?”

Jenn nodded.

“How does it work?”

“You’re supposed to be with a group of people, and all of you put your fingers on the planchette. Someone asks a question, and the spirits are supposed to work through your joined hands to move the planchette from letter to letter to spell out words.”

“What’s a planchette?”

Jennica realized that she only held the board. “I’d say it’s what we’re missing. Hang on.” She reached back