Ghastly Glass (13 page)

I
swam ashore not quite knowing where I was until I saw the lights from the main gate and heard the music playing. I had no idea what time it was, but visitors were still streaming in through the gate, which meant it wasn’t midnight yet.

One group of twentysomething visitors dressed as Renaissance trick-or-treat rejects saw me and started laughing. “Do you think she’s supposed to be some kind of water spirit? ” one of the girls asked her partner.

“If so, they sure did a good job on her makeup.” That started them all laughing again.

I was too angry to speak. I wasn’t sure what would happen if I opened my mouth. I ignored them and clung to the shadows, which were easy to find in the dimly lit Village street.

A long line of lighted pumpkins followed every shop and amusement. Lords and ladies dressed in ghostly attire, their faces painted a deathly white, strolled the cobblestones. The wolf howled and bats chattered through the streets. Halloween had truly come to Renaissance Village.

The hatchet-throwing area, located conveniently close to a first aid station, now offered scarecrows, rather than fruits and vegetables, as targets. Even the monks at the bakery went all out. Two of the brothers walked by me on their way from the building. When I looked at them, I saw that their eyes glowed red. Chase wasn’t kidding about Adventure Land doing it up right.

I dashed behind the Honey and Herb Shoppe, which took me into a dark part of the Village behind the privies and the Dutchman’s Stage. Apparently the Renaissance Faire Village planners had not put any lights back here because they didn’t want visitors getting off the beaten track where they couldn’t spend any money. It was a good place for me in my drenched, angry state. I could hear the music and smell the roasting turkey legs, but I was by myself.

At least I
thought
I was by myself. I heard a rustling sound and glanced over my shoulder. There was Death again, if possible, bigger than when Ross was playing the character. The sight put such a chill down my back that I had to stop and confront him or leave the Village. To my way of thinking, you can only be so scared before you have to fight back.

“You must be the new Death,” I greeted the specter. “Nice robe. I think your scythe must be bigger than the first Death’s. Or maybe it just looks bigger.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood there towering over me (not an easy thing to do). The figure had to be eight feet tall. I glanced down at the ground where his robe met the damp grass. There were no feet that I could see.

“You must be new.” I held out my hand. “I’m Jessie. I’ve worked here for about the last five years on and off. I’m apprenticing with Roger at the Glass Gryphon right now. Nice to meet you.”

There was no response for a moment, then slowly, a bony hand slid from beneath the dark robe. I don’t mean bony as in thin either. I mean bony as in skeletal, no flesh.

That was it. Someone might laugh at me later, but I was terrified. I took off running past the actors coming out from behind the Dutchman’s Stage, through the darkness to the front of the dungeon.

I stopped when I reached the lighted front door. I looked back to see where the figure was. He hadn’t followed me. I even went back a little (not too far) to see if he was waiting around the corner of the dungeon, but he was gone.

Is it real?
My pounding heart, tortured lungs, and sweaty face said it was real. My brain denounced what my senses told me was true.
Of course there isn’t a real figure of Death stalking the Village. He’s an actor just like me, hired by someone at Adventure Land to scare the living crap out of everyone he can. He’s somewhere laughing right now, repeating the story to other Halloween figures.

Or maybe it
was
real. People had died here. Maybe there really
was
a figure that personified Death. Maybe that figure just met me in the darkness to let me know he was real.

I heard the tree swing creak, close to the dungeon door, and glanced that way. A terrible specter sat there swinging from the tree. She had long white hair and a horrible death countenance, her gray gown trailing on the cobblestones behind her. The wind lifted her hair as she held her horrible face up to the moonlight. The wolf bayed.

I’d had enough for one night. I opened the door to the dungeon and the banshee wailed. I couldn’t take the sound, so I slammed the door, stormed over to the Pleasant Pheasant, and sat down in the closest chair. I dared anyone to mention that I was soaking wet as I ordered a tankard of ale.

Daisy Reynolds took up residence in the chair opposite me and slammed her own tankard on the wooden table. “This place has gone nuts. Have you seen all the stuff going on out there? ”

Sam, the owner, brought my tankard to me without a word. I drained half of it in a single gulp. “Tell me about it.”

 

 

C
hase didn’t get back until almost one A.M. I was still sitting in the same chair when he finally thought to look across the street for me. I don’t know what inspired him, but he was a welcome sight.

Daisy had turned in after three tankards and a long bout of philosophy about the sword and how it had changed the world. Everyone else left when the Village closed at midnight. By twelve thirty, residents started coming in, whining about their long day.

“After I heard the banshee, I thought you might be here.” Chase pulled up a chair. “What happened? ”

“Rafe threw me overboard because I refused to obey his command to eat.”

“That guy has gone too far.” He started to his feet. “I’ll fix it so he really needs those gold caps.”

“Never mind. I’ll take care of it.”

“Jessie, this is stupid. Sometimes things get out of control here. Throwing you overboard is one of those things.”

“If you get into a fight with Rafe and lose your job here, you won’t be able to help me have the serious revenge I need to get on him.”

He sat back down. “What’s your plan? ”

“I don’t have one yet. I need a hot shower, dry clothes, and at least six hours sleep.” I drank the last of my ale and put the tankard down hard on the table. “I saw Death.”

“I know. I did, too. I can’t believe they found someone bigger than Ross.”

“No. I mean I
really
saw Death.”

“How many tankards have you had? ”

“I saw him before I got here.” I told him the story. I could tell he didn’t believe me. Not the way I wanted him to.

“It’s just the new Death, Jessie. They were bound to hire another one. He’s kind of the quintessential figure for this kind of thing. He’s really good if he can scare
you
since you know he’s not real.”

“He had a skeleton hand and he didn’t speak.”

“Next time, run up and kick him in the leg. Maybe that will get his attention. Let’s go home. It’s been a long day.”

I was exhausted, I had to admit that. And logically, I knew he was right. My clothes had dried on me, and my hair was down in my eyes. It was better to agree with him and go to bed than believe there was a real figure of Death stalking the Village.

We called good night to Sam, then went out the door and started across the empty street. The swing was empty now, too, although the breeze still stirred it, creating the squeaky noise the ghost had been making. I don’t know why I could easily dismiss the girl in the swing as an actress (even though she was well costumed) but be so frightened of the figure of Death. Chase had disconnected the banshee wail once again, and we started up the stairs.

“Did you find the pirate with the jerkin I told you about? ” I asked with a yawn.

“We did. He’s new. I think you scared him. He just started today and was looking for something to put on his back to make himself look tough. He saw us looking at the words on Roger’s shop and copied them. I don’t think he had anything to do with what happened to Ross.”

“Great! I went through all of this for nothing. I’d almost convinced myself that it was okay that Rafe threw me overboard because I’d found an important link to what was happening.”

“Sorry.” We reached the top floor, and Chase put his arms around me. “You’re still damp.”

“I know. I need a shower.”

“Go ahead. I’m going downstairs to personally rip out that banshee thing. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The warm water felt fantastic as I tried to put the night’s experiences behind me. Of course I knew none of it was real. And being scared was supposed to be part of the experience. I came to experience that experience, as corny as that sounds.

By the time I’d washed the lake out of my hair and put on my pajamas, I felt much better. I was calm. Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be. Life at the Village wasn’t for everyone, but I’d decided a long time ago that it was for me, at least a few weeks every year. I wasn’t an actor, but this was as close to reliving history, with a pay-check, as anyone could get. I was with Chase. Life was very sweet.

“Chase, is there any pizza left in the fridge?” I asked coming out of the bathroom as I wrapped a towel around my head. When he didn’t answer, I looked up. What I saw made my heart stop beating and the blood freeze in my veins.

There was a scythe, Death’s scythe, I’d swear it. It was lying across the bed with blood or something red on the blade dripping on the sheets. On the scythe were the words
Death shall find thee.

Somehow I walked very calmly to the door of the dungeon apartment and opened it before I let out with a scream that put the banshee’s wail to shame.

I
couldn’t sit in the room while Detective Almond and his police officers (including one with a German shepherd) poked through the bedroom looking for clues about who could’ve left the message and the scythe on the bed.

Debby was glad to have me spend the night with her. I don’t think I was very good company, though, because she fell asleep in the middle of my second telling of my awful evening.

I stood looking out of the window for a long time until finally the sky above the Village began to get light. I knew half-awake residents would soon be stumbling from their homes above their shops or from Village housing like Debby’s.

I wondered where Tony was staying now. It would’ve been nice to be with family. He’s the only one I have left in that department. I thought about my parents dying so young and wondered if that was why the figure of Death scared me so much. I wished I had someone with me to talk to about it.

But it was me, all alone. Chase was helping the police with their investigation. It was for the best that he was with them. Still, I couldn’t help wishing I were lying next to him, safe, pretending the Village was the same place for me now.

I’d never been afraid here before. Suddenly, that sense of security had been taken from me. Maybe it was a curse for coming down here instead of being at school. I’d told a few lies to maneuver my time off. Maybe it was payback for taking time off out of turn.

Whatever it was, I was afraid I might have to leave. I knew if I did, I’d never come back. I didn’t believe that would be the end of me and Chase. But it would be the end of an important part of my life. I resisted that idea. How dare whoever was doing this, do this to
me
?

Debby slept on through my soul-searching. She even slept through Chase knocking on the door. When I opened it, he put his arms out and I clung to him, burying my face against his chest.

“What did you find out? ” I asked.

“Not so fast,” he said soothingly. “You’ve been through a lot. I’ve got something for you. I woke Portia and shook it out of her. You could say it’s a one-of-a-kind costume.”

He held out his answer to my wardrobe dilemma. It was a man’s britches, but topping them was a black leather bustier with a short-sleeved, red ruffled blouse that went beneath it.

I tried it on, looking critically at myself in the mirror. With the top’s push-up magic, no one would have any trouble deciding whether I was a man or a woman. The red ruffles in the bodice didn’t do much to keep my breasts from plunging out, but at least the sleeves were short. It would be unusual to see short sleeves on a Renaissance woman. Nevertheless, the strange pirate/craftsperson look was odd yet charming.