Chapter 2

 

Tori strolled along the paths, passing different types of gardens. Some were filled with flowers and hedges; others were modern combinations of rocks, gazing balls, and small pools teeming with fish. She ran her fingers along a gate that surrounded rows of evergreen seedlings.

“Grandma’s property doesn’t seem to end,” Tori murmured. I wonder who takes care of all this. She hadn’t seen a soul inside or outside who wasn’t a family member, excluding the cemetery, which she had yet to visit. During the drive over, her father had explained that the plantation had once produced tobacco. Since the renovations, the crops from the nearest fields were replaced with recreational gardens and other aesthetic features. Tori’s grandmother continued her husband’s tradition of renting out the remaining property to local families and owners of Christmas tree farms.

“Maybe everyone’s gone home to their families for the night.” Tori traced her steps back toward the house, suddenly fearful of getting lost. Twenty minutes later, convinced she’d taken a wrong turn, she untied the sweater from her waist and pulled it over her flannel shirt. Her teeth chattered as light from the last rays of sun faded. Well, it’s finally getting spooky, I guess.

Tori squinted. “Maybe if I find a light,” she mumbled, “that will give me a hint as to the direction of the house.”

The path she was on now roughened with each step. Before long, the walkway became overgrown with weeds and crabgrass. This can’t be right. She looked back over her shoulder. There was no light from the direction from which she’d come, but at least the path was smoother. Surely it would lead to a better route.

She stepped to the right, ready to turn around, when a twinkle of light stung her eye. She blinked, certain the twinkle had been in the direction she’d already been walking. As she stepped back around, her eyes focused on the source of the light. It came from somewhere farther away, beyond the overgrown path.

Tori quickened her pace. The light glowed more brightly—appeared larger—as she neared its unknown source.

She stopped, breathless, before a lantern. It hung from a pole and creaked as it swayed in the wind. Looking more closely, she noticed the lantern was made of metal and glass. Electric, maybe? Automatic with a light sensor? She was certain her grandmother wouldn’t have a solitary light in the middle of her property. It made no sense. She sighed, wishing she’d found a porch light instead.

As quickly as she’d feared that she’d become lost, she was enveloped by a calming presence, as if someone else was there. But the grounds were empty and quiet, echoing the darkness. No one was there, no one she could see.

“Impossible,” she whispered. It must be a ghost. “Hello?” she called out, “Is anyone there?”

Tori could almost hear her goose bumps forming in the silence.

Well, there’s no one here, and this light isn’t helping me find the house. She turned to go back in the direction she’d come. Back to the Better Route plan. When she turned, the light glowed brighter. She looked back, shielding her eyes. “Did you do that, Lantern?”

The light dimmed.

Her shoulders tensed. She dragged one foot along the ground, slowly, as if she planned to turn back again.

Gently, the light brightened.

She frowned. Her hands balled into fists. “I don’t know what’s going on here. But if someone’s playing games with me, that someone’s going to get it. Halloween’s just a few days away, and I have a few tricks up my sleeve too. Don’t think I won’t use them,” she said, her voice pinched.

The light dimmed.

“Ugh.” Tori rolled her eyes at herself. Maybe it’s a faulty bulb? I must look like a complete idiot. Regardless, she closed her eyes as she turned around—the whole way this time. She took a few large steps before opening them again.

Light from the lantern behind her flashed on and off. Repeatedly, as if panicked. Each pulse of light casted a yellow-orange glow across the fog that had spread out in front of her.

Unsure of what was happening and too terrified to scream, Tori bolted along the path, away from the lantern and the light.

 

Three mugs of hot chocolate and a pile of blankets weren’t enough to chase away the chills.

“Tori, baby, tell us what happened.”

“Like I said, I got lost. It was stupid.” She wrapped her arms more tightly around her knees.

“But you’re still shivering, hon. Did you run into anyone out there?” Tori’s mother hovered, wide-eyed with fear. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, heightening the effect.  “Someone didn’t hurt you or touch you, did they?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m fine, nothing’s molested or broken. Really, Mom. I just—I was out there for too long and it took me a while to get back. No one hurt me. Grandma’s property—it’s a lot bigger than I thought. I should have turned around sooner.”

“Okay, baby, it sounds like you had quite the scare. I won’t make you relive it over again.”

Tori grasped her mother’s hand where it lightly rubbed her shoulder. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby. I’m going up to bed now. You sure you’re going to be all right?”

“Yes, I’ll be up soon. I’ll just clean this up for Grandma, and then I’ll try to get some sleep.”

After setting aside the blankets and folding them into tidy squares, Tori headed to the kitchen with her mug. She dipped it in warm, soapy water to dissolve the worst of the sticky chocolate. Squinting, she looked out the window before loading the mug into the dishwasher.

It was dark outside, but there was a fleck of light that looked out of place. Tori shook her head, trying to rid the image from her mind, but she couldn’t help wondering whether it was Lantern. From the safety of the kitchen, the light didn’t look so bad; it looked lonely.

“Sleep,” she grumped. “That’s all I need right now. The question is whether or not I’ll get any.”

Tori glanced out the window one last time before turning away to get ready for bed.

She fell asleep that night, not knowing that after she’d left the kitchen, the light in the distance flashed on and off repeatedly before it burned out.