Trick or Treat Read Free Page B

thought almost made her laugh.
    A damp wind blew across the back stoop, and Martha stood there, shivering. Trees crowded close on all sides, and the tiny yard was choked with weeds and dead leaves. For the first time, she was keenly aware of just how isolated they really were.
    There was a subtle movement at the edge of the clearing, and Conor stepped out from the woods, his arms stacked with logs. Martha waited while he came up onto the porch and dropped them into a box by the door. He brushed his hands together and smiled off towards the tangled treeline.
    “It’s nice back in there. You can hear the forest just living around you.”
    Martha followed his eyes, seeing nothing but bare brown ugliness. “I don’t hear anything. It’s so … empty.”
    “Ummm. You’re just not listening.” He stepped off the porch and flexed his arms. After a minute Martha stepped down beside him.
    “You didn’t tell them about last night.”
    “Did you want me to?”
    Martha studied his face, the deep blue of his eyes. “Dad probably would have laughed. He thinks I imagine things.”
    “Yes, I got that feeling.”
    “But I don’t. Imagine things, I mean.”
    The hint of a smile came to life behind his eyes. “I know.”
    “Well … Sally said we’re ready to eat.”
    Conor rolled his eyes and put one hand protectively to his stomach. “It’s the country air. It always makes her adventurous.” And then, at Martha’s surprised look: “Don’t worry. This phase, too, will pass.” He went into the kitchen, leaving Martha to stare after him.

    The moving van arrived shortly after three. For the rest of the afternoon Martha was too busy carrying and unpacking boxes to worry about anything else. Although the house began to take on some semblance of normalcy, Martha couldn’t seem to make her own room any more appealing, even with all her old familiar things. Frustrated with her wasted efforts, she finally gave up and found Conor lounging against one of the columns on the front porch.
    “What’s the verdict?” he asked without looking up. “Think you’ll stay a while?”
    “Do I have a choice?”
    His eyes lifted, touched her face. She thought she saw a twinkle there, but she couldn’t be sure.
    “If I had a choice, I’d —” She broke off as Dad stuck his head out the door and tossed his keys at them.
    “Would you mind going for picture hooks? We’re having a crisis in here.”
    Conor nodded and started towards the station wagon.
    “Why don’t you take Martha along?” Dad added. “Show her the town.”
    “If she wants.”
    Martha didn’t relish the idea of being with Conor, but at least it was a way to get out of the house. She just managed to scramble in as the car started down the drive.
    Now Martha could see the route they’d come last night — dirt road, dense woods, the endless sweep of spent fields beneath a leaden sky. She wondered how Sally had even found this place at all.
    “Have you been to town a lot?” She glanced at Conor’s profile, the frayed collar of his blue flannel shirt.
    “Twice maybe. Don’t get your hopes up — it’s not Chicago.”
    “What about the people?”
    “What about them?”
    “Well, are they friendly?”
    His shoulders moved lazily. “I don’t know. Nobody talked to me.”
    She couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. For the rest of the ride she kept her attention on the bleak landscape and made breath patterns on the window. They drove for nearly twenty minutes before Conor finally turned onto another road, this one taking them past neat frame houses and well-tended yards and quiet sidewalks Uttered with colorful leaves. From nearly every house, jack-o’-lanterns grinned back at them, and windows were papered with skeletons, witches, and ghosts.
    “Where is everyone?” The deserted streets were growing long with shadows, and Martha frowned.
    Conor kept his eyes on the road. “Sensible people are fixing their dinners now — preferably something edible.