Always October (6 page)

“This isn't a game,
Herbert
! Do you think I wanted to take a chance on your grandfather picking up? I called because LD has turned into a monster with fur and fangs and he's still cute but also sort of terrifying and my mother isn't here and I don't know what to do so I called you because you're supposed to be my best friend!”

When Jacob gets excited, he talks like punctuation had never been invented, so this sentence made me think maybe he was serious.

“Wow,” I said. “If that's true, it's cooler than a goblin's heinie!”

Normally he would ask how cool a goblin's heinie was supposed to be, and how I knew. Now he just said, “It's true! And it's not cool, it's terrifying!”

The tremor in his voice startled me. I was silent for a moment, then said, “Listen carefully, because I'm giving you one last chance. If you tell me, right now, you are making this up, I will forgive you. If you tell me it's real, I will believe you. But if you tell me it's real and later I find out you were fooling, we will never,
ever
be friends again. So … are you talking true, or not?”

I held my breath, half wanting him to confess it was a game, half wanting him to say it was real.

“Lily, if this is a lie, then Frankenstein can fart in my face every morning for a hundred years.”

It might seem stupid that I believed him, but I did. I mean, I'd been waiting for something like this all my life. “Well,” I said, “I suppose it's because of the full moon.”

I heard a groan from the other end. “I'm such a dolt! Do you think if I put him someplace dark, he might change back?”

“I dunno. In stories usually just having a full moon in the sky is enough to make whatever thing is going to happen, um … happen! But maybe it's different for babies. Was he in the moonlight when it started?”

“Definitely! It was pouring through his window right onto his crib.”

“Okay, that's useful. Is he in the moonlight now?”

“Good grief, I really am a dolt! He's smack-dab in a patch of the stuff.”

“Okay, try moving him.”

“All right, hold on a minute.”

I heard a little howl, a high-pitched sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Was that LD?” I asked when it stopped.

“Yeah, he woke up when I took him off the bed. Boy, my mother is kind of a slob. There's nowhere in here to sit. I'm going back to my room.”

“Can you take the phone with you?” I asked, afraid he was going to end the call.

“I'll try. I'm not sure how much range it has. All right, I'm in the hall. Can you still hear me?”

“Yep. You should be out of the moonlight now. Any change in the baby?”

“Nothing.”

“Maybe you have to give it a few minutes.”

Another pause, then, “I'm back in my room now. Hey, LD's ears are smaller. He's turning back!”

“Excellent! Man, I wish we had cell phones so you could send me a picture. Is he still changing?”

“No,” said Jacob with a moan. “It's stopped. He's still all furry.”

I thought fast. “Maybe you need complete darkness. Try taking him into a closet. Make sure you leave the light off!”

“Lily, I am
not
getting into a pitch-black closet with a baby monster. Who knows what he might do to me?”

“Why, Juliet, you're not afraid of a little baby, are you?”

I felt bad saying it, because I knew Jake hated that kind of argument (mostly because he was doomed to lose). But we didn't have time for a discussion. I was afraid Gramps might yell for me to get off the phone at any minute, and I
had
to know how this turned out.

“All right,” he grumped, “I'll give it a try.”

Though I was glad Jacob had called to ask for advice, the situation was driving me nuts. I wanted to
be there
so badly it hurt.

Of course, that assumed it was really happening … which I hoped it was, because otherwise I would have to have a huge fight with Jacob and then never talk to him again as long as I lived.

“All right, I'm in the closet.”

“Is the dark having any effect?”

“How should I know? I can't see a thing. Anyway, I don't think—”

I was starting to explain that he should use his sense of touch when a sudden crackle of static burst against my ear.

“Juliet?
Juliet
?”

Nothing.

I stared at the phone in horror.

Had we simply lost the connection?

Was Jacob playing with my head?

Or had something much worse just happened?

W
hen the phone went dead, my first thought was that I had gone out of range.

Then I heard a crackle—not from the phone, but from the darkness around me.

Even worse, the closet suddenly smelled wrong. The familiar odor of dirty socks was gone, replaced by something damp, wild, and disturbing.

Scary as that was, I didn't actually scream until a deep, raspy voice said, “Ah, good—we have made contact!”

Then I let out a shriek that made the baby howl too.

I groped frantically for the doorknob, found it, discovered it would not turn.

“Do not be afraid,” said the voice, which seemed to come from a great distance. “We will not hurt you. We can't even reach you yet.”

Part of me thought,
Well, that's a relief
.

Another part thought,
Yet?!?

And still another part thought,
WE???

“Who are you?” I cried. “What do you want?”

“My name is unimportant. What I
want
is for you to promise to take care of the baby.”

“I'm doing that already!”

“Good, I am glad to know that. Guard him well. But remember, he is not yours! I will be back next month.”

“What?”

But the voice was gone. Suddenly the doorknob, which I was still clutching, turned in my hand. The door swung open and I bounded out of the closet. My stomach clenched as I realized I hadn't touched the door three times before I opened it! I started back inside so I could fix that mistake, then decided that was insane. A pain in the gut from skipping the ritual was better than getting back in that closet! I was already shaking so violently, you could have used me to mix paint.

A pudgy hand patted my face. I looked down and realized LD was now totally human. He rested his head on my shoulder. For some reason that calmed me a little. Patting his back, crooning wordlessly, I carried him to his room. The moon was still shining through the window, so I put him in the rocker, then pulled the crib out of the light. For good measure, I drew the curtains, too.

As I did all this, I was struck with a new thought:
I should have waited until Mom got home to turn LD back! She's never going to believe me if I tell her what just happened
.

Of course, when Lily had been giving me advice, I wasn't thinking about what came next. I just wanted to get the baby back into his normal form. My thoughts shifted. What about that voice? Where had it come from?

I was at the kitchen table, trying to work this through, when the front door opened and Mom called, “How did it go, sweetie?”

“Fine,” I replied, tugging my earlobe and cursing myself for fibbing. But what could I tell her? That the baby had turned into a monster? She'd think I had lost my mind. Suddenly I wondered if I could make it happen again. But how? I couldn't just say, “Let's put the baby in the moonlight so you can see what happens.”

“The baby slept all right?” asked Mom, coming into the kitchen.

Time to get creative. Trying to call up some of my grandfather's ability to spin a yarn, I said, “Well, he did stir a little when the moon rose. I went in to check on him. Gosh, you should have seen him, Mom. He was so cute in the moonlight!”

She looked at me oddly.

“Come on,” I said eagerly. “I'll show you.”

“I don't want to wake him,” she said.

Luck was with me, because we heard a squawk from upstairs.

“He knows you're home,” I said. “He probably wants to see you!”

Mom looked at me oddly again but followed me up the stairs.

“You moved the crib,” she said, as soon as we entered the room.

“I thought the light was disturbing him. But since he's awake—”

Before she could say anything, I pushed the crib back where it had been and threw open the curtains. Instantly LD was bathed in silver moonlight.

“See how cute?” I said, looking for any sign of a change.

Nothing happened.

LD stretched out his arms to be picked up.

Mom reached for him.

Desperate, I said, “Let's just admire him for a second, Mom! See how the moonlight makes his eyes sparkle?”

“Jacob, are you sure you're all right?”

“Of course!” I lied. Inside I was crushed. It wasn't going to happen.

I didn't sleep well that night, not well at all.

Things didn't look any better the next morning when I got to the cemetery. Lily was waiting for me, and the expression on her face was almost as frightening as a rough voice in a dark closet.

W
ell, duh, Jacob! Was I supposed to be all happy after you just disappeared that way the night before? I was torn between worry and anger all night long.

Okay, sorry, I should just focus on the story.

So …

I was holding both braids and looking serious when Jacob came along the path the next morning.

“What's wrong?” he asked when he saw me.

“I don't know which one to chew! If you were telling me true last night, it will be the thinking braid. But if you made all that up, and then cut off the phone call to leave me hanging, it's the angry braid for sure. Except first I clobber you. Then I kick you out of my life. And
then
I take time to chew the angry braid.”

“Lily, I swear on my grandmother's grave I was telling the truth.”

“Let's see if you really mean it. Follow me.”

Jacob sighed; he knew what was coming. A few minutes of walking through the grass, which was still wet with dew, brought us to his mother's mother's grave.

“Okay, put your hand on that tombstone and swear. But remember … if you tell a lie on your grandmother's grave, the Midnight Terrors will chase you for the rest of your life.”

Without hesitation, Jacob put his left hand on the stone, his right hand over his heart, and said solemnly, “I swear on my grandmother's grave that everything I told you last night was true.” Then, clearly trying to get ahead of things, he added, “I also swear that everything I'm going to tell you right now is true too!”