My Friends Are Dead People (7 page)

Katie trudged over to the shovel as she gave
me a frown. I knew this wasn’t a smart idea. But this was our
chance to whack him and make a run for it. But why was this guy
being so trusting with us? I decided I was going to go for it. I
lifted my shovel shakily in the air.

“
I don’t think that is the
way you hold a shovel,” he informed, “unless of course you were
planning to strike me with it.”

I froze.

“
Are you just going to
stand there? Get to work. I’ve got a lot of graves to
dig.”

“
You’re not going to bury
us?” asked Katie, hurrying over.

“
Bury you two?” smiled the
man. “I could never do such a terrible thing. You’re
kids.”

“
You made it seem that
way.”

“
Oh, I did. Sorry. Just a
little Halloween fun. I don’t get much amusement around
here.”

The man stuck out a cruddy hand.
“Jacoby.”

Katie took his hand. “Katie,” she giggled as
he smothered her hand in mud.

I shook his hand. “Jesse,” I said.

“
Great name.” Jacoby
turned back to Katie. “Is that a real witch gown?”

“
I think it is. His mamá
gave it to me.”

“
You tell her she did a
great job. An old human friend made similar ones. He was quite
good. He would love to see this one.”

“
Did you make your own
costume?” I said.

“
No. All natural. You work
here for a couple of days before Halloween, you’ll be
set.”

“
Oh. Are you going to
dress up?”

“
I usually don’t. I’m not
that much into Halloween anymore. So . . . you two looking for work
or you still got more trick-or-treating to do?”

“
No, we’re done,” I
said.

“
Yeah,” agreed
Katie.

“
I sensed you two were
done,” he said, “or maybe looking for something?”

Before I could say anything, he
continued.

“
Lin, the boy you were
following, was quite terrified of you two. He told me how two kids
were chasing after him, probably planning to beat him
up.”

Katie laughed a little.

“
No, what happened was . .
.” I said, not really knowing what to say, “we were getting
attacked–”

“
By who?” Jacoby asked
earnestly.

“
Well, not really
attacked,” corrected Katie. “We were just getting hassled by some
girls. But this man dressed in a costume came and saved
us.”

“
Did he look like a large
bat?”

“
Yes,” said Katie,
amazed.

“
Soundrec is a
friend.”

“
But . . .” I countered,
“but it had to be a costume.”

“
Can a human fly?” said
Jacoby. “I don’t believe so.”

“
But–”

“
He flew. He was overseas
around that time. The only way he could’ve been there is if he flew
or psyclined. Believe me, Jesse, Soundrec is as real as you are.
His job is to protect us from evil halloweens
and
humans if he has the time. Think
of him as a strange-looking officer, very well-respected, and
definitely not someone you want to aggravate. You two, start
digging, we have to get this done before ten.”

Katie and I climbed down into the hole on
the right. Before we could get started, we saw Jacoby staring off
into the distance. Katie and I stood on our tiptoes to peek over
the top of our hole. A hunched-over bald man with orange skin was
trudging down a dirt hill. He was wearing long shorts and a long
sleeved top.

“
Listen,” prompted Jacoby,
stooping to our eye level. “You can’t look him in the
eyes–”

“
Why not?” I asked
anxiously.

“
Jesse, there’s nothing to
worry about . . . but this is extremely important. If you meet his
gaze, you’ll get hurt. And I don’t mean a cut or a bruise. Kids
like you two wouldn’t be able to handle the curse. You would die
instantly.”

Katie and I fixed our eyes on Jacoby’s.

“
He’s a very powerful
menala.”

“
What’s that?” I said,
remembering that name being spoken by the werewolf.

“
Jesse, not so loud. A
menala is a rare type of halloween. There are only three menalas
living today. The other two are quite harmless, but this one . .
.”

Katie and I clambered out of the hole and
lowered our heads immediately. Out of my peripheral vision I could
see that the menala stopped short of reaching us, taking interest
in something.

“
I knew he would find that
cat,” said Jacoby. “It’s been killing a few birds around
here.”

The menala tossed a stick near a brown cat
sitting by a tree. The cat turned its head around, fatally fixing
its eyes on his. As if in a trance, the cat ambled around the tree.
The menala waited, but the cat didn’t come around.

“
As long as you avoid his
eyes, he’s harmless,” said Jacoby. “If you think that I’m kind,
then consider him a saint. However, don’t bring up the subject of
menalas around him. One was killed a year ago. . . . You don’t need
to fear him. I'll show you.”

Meanwhile, the menala approached and stood
next to Jacoby. Katie swept her eyes along the ground, and I did
the same, to see the menala’s orange legs. They were blotchy and
smooth, with a hole bunch of freckles. Unlike Jacoby, the menala
was very tidy, with not a spec of dirt on him.

Jacoby shook a branch overhead, and a leaf
fell onto the ground. The menala reached down and picked it up.
More leaves fell, and the menala picked those up as well. It was
then that I noticed he had silky orange forearm hairs, at least a
foot long.

“
Why are you knocking the
leaves off their branches?” the menala asked in a mellow voice.
“You’re making a mess.”

“
It’s fall, and so the
leaves must fall,” said Jacoby. “We have our first helpers. They
come from far away – maybe from across the street – to lend us a
hand. Katie and Jesse . . . meet Dorian, one of the scariest
halloweens around.”

I held out my hand. A few seconds later, a
soft hand shook mine. Katie shook his hand next, venturing to look
up as high as Dorian’s neck.

“
What did Lin say?” Dorian
asked Jacoby.

“
That the baby is going to
be marked as a Dark Death.”

“
He’s making himself known
again.”

Having an urge to look higher, I slowly
looked up, and saw Jacoby staring directly at Dorian’s eyes. He had
lied.

“
Are you talking about
Jack?” said Katie promptly.

“
Yes,” said Jacoby,
looking surprised.

“
He’s real?”

“
Yes.”

“
Who is he?” I asked,
looking only at Jacoby.

“
I told you,” said
Katie.

I didn’t look at her.

“
We don’t know much of
him,” answered Jacoby.

“
He’s the reason for the
pumpkins,” said Katie. “He’s the most feared creature in
Halloween.”

“
I have to agree with
you,” said Jacoby.

My eyes started to creep up to look at
Dorian, but Jacoby stopped me just in time by placing his hand on
my head.

“
I thought no one could
look at Dorian?” I said.

“
That’s
correct.”

“
You did.”

“
I’m the only one who
can.”

“
Can’t he–” said Katie,
but then turned to face Dorian’s brown cloth shirt. “Dorian, can’t
you stop it from hurting people?”

“
No. I guess mind control
must have limitations.”

“
You can control people?”
I yelped.

Dorian didn’t answer.

“
Kind of scary, isn’t it?”
said Jacoby. “That’s why I’m the only friend he’s got.”

“
We’re his friends, too,”
Katie and I said in unison.

Dorian smiled, or it felt like he did. I
knew he liked the kind words because there was a long silence
before Jacoby spoke again.

“
Now that you’re
officially Dorian’s friends, I need you to get back to
work.”

Dorian climbed down into a muddy grave and
started digging. He didn’t just randomly toss the dirt out, but
placed it neatly in a pile above. His every movement was slow and
precise.

“
I guess you two can help
me now,” said Jacoby.

“
Can’t you and Dorian use
magic to do the digging?” I said.

“
Why? It’ll take away the
satisfaction of all that hard work. We’re one of the few halloweens
who dislike using magic.”

“
What kind of magic can
you do? Can you walk through walls?”

“
Jesse, I’m not a ghost,”
said Jacoby, sounding annoyed.

“
Sorry. But you are a . .
.” I said, unsure as for what he was.

“
A halloween? Samhain?
Yes. But a halloween lives–”

“
Samhain? I thought that
was a man.”

Jacoby looked like he had
no idea what I was talking about. “Samhain is just another name for
the creatures that live in Halloween.
Halloween
and
samhain
mean the same thing. In
modern usage, samhain has become the more common of the two. They
mean two things: the race and the world. Halloweens live one day a
year. However, Dorian and I live all year round, like
you.”

“
Then you’ve entered
twice, no?” said Katie.

Jacoby turned momentarily, processing what
she said. “Katie, I’m not sure,” he said. “We look to be
halloweens, but we don’t live like them.”

After a long pause, I said with a tentative
smile, “Back to work, everyone!”

Katie and Jacoby grinned as they went back
to their shoveling. During the next hour, Katie shared some of her
Halloween knowledge with the rest of us. She seemed to know more
than Jacoby and Dorian combined, and they were actual creatures of
Halloween.

Katie was finishing up her last story as I
smoothed out a side wall of my hole.

“
. . . so, you smell
something rotten, you run. If you don’t, Jack will play a trick on
you and leave you miserable for the rest of your life.”

“
Katie, you would rank
high on an S-HPR,” informed Jacoby.

“
So,” I butted in, feeling
a little left out, “Jack O’Lantern has been living in Halloween for
more than a thousand years?”

“
Yup,” said Katie. “Two
thousand or more.”

“
Why Jack O’Lantern?”
questioned Jacoby, looking to be testing Katie.

“
Because all he has is a
lantern,” she answered, “with a burning coal from the underworld
given to him by Satan. It lights his way through his darkness. A
lit turnip is a symbol of immortality. Irish children, long ago,
would sometimes see the glow moving across the hills. They would
light up carved turnips every Halloween to ward him off. And so
Jack–”

“
Of the Lantern,” finished
Jacoby. “Humans came up with the name.”

“
But mí papá told me of
his real name.”

Jacoby looked taken aback. “You know his
full name?”

“
I don’t remember it
completely.” Katie thought for a second. “It’s been a while. Have
you heard it before?”

“
A few times. It was too
long ago to remember it now.”

“
Do you believe he’s still
alive?” I asked.

“
Sometimes.”

“
Have you ever seen
him?”

“
No. No one has
actually
seen
him.”

I watched Dorian pick up a slimy worm and
carefully place it out of harm’s way. He poked his finger in the
soil next to the worm and then went back to work.

“
Since no one has seen
him,” I said, “he might have never existed.”

“
That may be true,” said
Jacoby.

“
Then who could’ve killed
the menala, if not Jack?”

“
There’s no one. Everyone
knows killing a menala is fatal.”

“
But you think Jack killed
the menala, no?” asked Katie.

“
The tortics did it,” said
Dorian quietly, disappearing back inside his hole.

“
What are
tortics?”

“
The only halloweens who
have the guts to kill humans,” said Jacoby.

“
But they don’t get
caught?” I said. “What about that bat . . .”

“
Soundrec? Not even four
weegals could stop a young tortic.”

“
Are they the most
powerful halloweens,” Katie mused, “other than Jack?”

“
Sadly, no. There are many
who possess some powerful magic. I’ve heard of one in Antarctica
and Japan, and there’s an Indian in Brazil who alone exceeds the
entire clan of tortics. Hard to believe this after you’ve seen what
a tortic can do. Dorian could take on a tortic,
however.”

“
A full-grown one?” I
asked in awe.

“
With his burning hatred
for them, two or even three at once. You get him riled up enough,
they would be in some trouble.”

Katie and I watched Dorian down in the hole
trying to pull his shovel out of some large roots. He gave out a
frustrated grunt, after failing to wrestle it loose.