Enter, Night

“It’s the only lake in town, so yeah, probably.”

“Right, over by the cliffs. I can see the cliffs from my house. Well, it’s not my house-the place where we’re staying for a while.”

“I know your house. Everyone in town knows your house. ‘Parr House,’ it’s called. It’s the only house in town with a name. It’s really big. What’s it like living there?”

“I don’t know what it’s like living there. I’ve just moved there. It’s big, that’s for sure. But I miss my house in Toronto, and I miss my friends.”

“How many rooms are there?” he asked eagerly, ignoring her reference to her life before her arrival here. “In Parr House, I mean. How many rooms? Thirty? Forty?”

“I don’t know,” she said. She laughed. “Where did you get a number like forty?”

“That’s the number of rooms in Collinwood. You know, the haunted house on Dark Shadows? That TV show with the vampire, Barnabas Collins?”

Morgan laughed. “We didn’t have a TV at home, remember? I told you.” He looked crestfallen, so she added, “I have heard of it, though. Some of the girls at school used to run home every afternoon to watch it right after school when it was still on.”

“We used to get it here on Saturday mornings,” Finn said. “We don’t get much out here, but we used to get that.”

“You like this stuff, don’t you?” Morgan said, amused. “Spooky stuff? Castles and vampires and stuff like that?”

“Yeah,” Finn said defensively. “I do. Is that wrong?”

“No, it’s not wrong.” Morgan said. “Of course it’s not wrong. Why would it be?”

“My parents think it’s weird,” he said, sounding embarrassed, though whether he was embarrassed by his defensiveness or by the fact that he liked horror stuff was unclear. “I don’t know why I like it, I just do. When I grow up I’m going to get out of this crappy little town and move to Hollywood and make movies. Horror movies. I’m going to be an actor, or a director or something. There’s this comic book I read all the time called Tomb of Dracula,” he said excitedly. “I get it at Harper’s Drugs on Main Street. They don’t get a lot of comics but they do get that one. Have you ever heard of it?”

“No, I haven’t,” Morgan said, keeping her amusement to herself, because she could see that his comic books meant a lot to him. She didn’t want to hurt him by seeming to mock something he obviously cared about. “But maybe you could show me sometime. And maybe another time you could come and see the inside of my grandmother’s house, if you like.”

They had come to the place where the gravel driveway met the edge of the portico steps a short distance away. “We’re here, Finn. Thanks for walking me home.”

“No problem,” Finn said. “Man, it’s huge, isn’t it? I’d get lost in there, for sure.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty huge. Like I said, you’ll have to come in sometime and look around.”

“Can I come in today?” Nothing ventured, Finn thought. The worst she can do is say no. “Or… I don’t know. Would that be OK?”

“It’s only my second day living here, Finn,” Morgan said. “My grandmother is a little weird, especially when it comes to my mom and me and people in town. I don’t think she’d like it. I don’t know why, and I don’t really know what it’s about, but I promise-soon.”

“She’s stuck-up,” Finn blurted out. “Everybody in town knows it. She thinks she’s better than everyone else because she’s so rich and the Parrs run everything in the Landing-” He stopped himself in mid-sentence, flushing dark red from the base of his throat to his hairline. If he’d been a cartoon character, he’d have slapped his own head and bellowed stoopid stoopid STOOPID! But all he could do was privately lament that the earth didn’t swallow him up immediately and take him down to the very bowels of Parr’s Landing. He knew he was going to be a virgin till his dying day. “I mean-God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

But Morgan surprised him by laughing delightedly. “Yeah, she is, a bit.” She began to laugh again, picturing Adeline’s face at the breakfast table that morning, her mouth as tight as if she’d been sipping raw lemon juice from her delicate porcelain cup instead of coffee. She steadied herself. “You sound like my uncle Jeremy. He thinks she’s stuck-up, too.” She began to laugh again in spite of herself.

“I’m really sorry,” Finn said. He was still mortified, though awareness was dawning in him that this girl didn’t seem to imagine him quite the disaster he himself saw in his mental mirror. “I didn’t mean-”

“Hey, don’t apologize, Finn,” Morgan said kindly. “It’s OK. Really. I appreciate you being so nice and friendly. Like I said, I don’t know anyone here, and nobody spoke to me today in school. It’s like I have leprosy or something.”

She reached out and took his hand. Finn, who had never held a girl’s hand, or indeed ever had any female other than his mother or his grandmother touch him anywhere, including his hand, found it unutterably sweet, soft, and warm. He felt momentarily bedazzled, as though the late-afternoon sunlight had preternaturally brightened.

“You don’t have leprosy,” Finn said softly. He pulled his hand away awkwardly.

Morgan smiled and readjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder. “Goodbye, Finn. Thanks for walking me home.” She looked at him questioningly. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Sure!” he said. “I mean-if you want? Do you… uh, do you want me to walk you home again tomorrow?

“That’d be nice.” She raised one hand and half-waved. “See you later, Finn.”

Morgan walked the rest of the way to the house, opened the front door, and went inside. Finn caught a brief glimpse of the black-and-white marble foyer of the entry hall, then the door closed. He stood for a moment staring at the closed door, thinking of Morgan, memorizing her face.

Then, his chest full of stars, Finn turned and walked down the gravel drive to where the hill sloped downwards to the soft dirt road strewn with fallen yellow leaves leading to the town, and home. He half-walked, half-ran, half- skipped towards home. His hand thrilled where her fingers had been, and he whistled (something he never had done before) as he moved through the autumn-darkening streets of Parr’s Landing.

Christina knocked on the door to Morgan’s room, then pushed it open. Her daughter was sitting at the spindly, delicate writing desk in the corner reading from what looked to Christina like the same Ontario history book she herself had in her own days at Matthew Browning.

“Hi, Mom,” Morgan said. “What time’s dinner? I’m hungry.”

“I think, in twenty minutes,” Christina said. “I passed Beatrice on the way up here and she said that it was almost dinner time.” She didn’t add that Beatrice had warned her to be on time “because Mrs. Parr likes things just so, and she’s peculiar about people being at the table on time, just so’s you know.”

“What are you reading?” Christina asked nonchalantly. “Looks familiar.”

Morgan held up the book, A History of Ontario by Margaret Avison. It was the same one, all right. Good Christ, Christina thought. My daughter is back in my hometown, attending my high school, and being taught from the same outdated textbooks as I was. It’s 1972, for God’s sake. Nothing changes here, nothing.

“It’s really boring,” she said. “It’s from 1951.” Morgan closed the book and put it down in front of her. “It’s like we’re back in the olden days here. Even the high school looks like something from TV. It’s so old fashioned.”

“How was your first day at school?”

Morgan shrugged. “It was OK, I guess. Nobody was mean, but nobody talked to me, either. There was a nice lady in the front office, and the principal was OK, too.” She paused, unsure of how to say what she was about to say next. “Mom?”

“Yes, honey? What is it?”

“Mom, did grandmother tell everyone that I’m illegitimate? Because it was weird, but the principal kept talking about ‘lifestyle choices’ that you and Dad made back when I was born, and it was like everyone else was walking on eggshells with me because my last name is Parr. You were married when I was born, right?”

Christina felt a wave of murderous fury towards Adeline pass through her, though she kept her face entirely neutral at that moment for Morgan’s sake. She forced her voice to a calm register that was entirely at odds with how she felt, and swore again that if it was the last thing she did, she would get away from this town-and Adeline- at the first available opportunity. “Did someone actually say something, sweetheart?”

“No,” Morgan said thoughtfully. “Not in so many words. But everyone’s treating me like I’m some sort of case who needs all this special care and protection. Why are they doing that?”