Page 52 of Hallow Hill at Halloween: Part One

“Why would your car do such a thing?”

“Because I screamed for him to come save me.”

“From what?”

“I’m not sure. It was too dark to tell.”

“Deer?”

“Definitely not.”

“Goat?”

“No.”

“Give me some clues, Mom.”

Just then a not too distant and long howl of lament caused both of us to freeze.

“From that,” I said.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Told you. I don’t know. But it was tall and, you know, two legs, two arms, upright, etc.”

“Anthropoid.”

“Potayto. Potahto.”

“Did it speak to you?”

“Oh yeah.”

“What did it say?”

“He asked my name and then wanted to know why I’m not human.”

“Well, if he could tell that…”

“It means he’s not human either. I know.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Well, like a true heroine of a C movie, I left my phone in my car.”

“Okay. But the phone is a backup for the medallion I gave you, which would never be used because the medallion will never fail you.”

“I know,” I said, sounding defeated. I realized that too late. I guess I’m not good in a magical, life-threatening type crisis. Wanting to get the spotlight off me, I said, “You feeling okay?”

“Yes. And don’t try deflecting.” After transporting Romeo back to the car park, and me along with him, she waved her hand and initiated the most unpleasant screeching of metal on metal. There was only a single fluorescent bulb casting light on the parking lot. It wasn’t high wattage, but it was good enough to tell that Romeo was okay.

“Romeo. Are you good?” I asked.

“Right as rain, Madam.”

Who knows where he gets these expressions?

“Romeo.”