“Boo!”
Poe screamed at the top of his lungs until Bella yanked off the Goblin mask she was wearing.
He was relieved, very relieved in fact, to discover that it was her, and not some strange hobgoblin creature that lingered under the bridge between Conway Forest and the neatly groomed houses of Cameron, North Carolina.
“Why the hell are you going around dressed like a goblin?” Poe asked angrily, once his terror had subsided. He hated the feeling of being spooked like that, but his anger, as always, subsided faster when it was Bella doing the spooking.
“I’m not a goblin silly,” Bella responded, “I’m an alien.”
Poe felt for the mask, and saw the large black slit eyes carved into the plastic that made up it’s green skin. He’d seen many masks like them in the past few weeks, as astute businessmen rushed to sell their wares before Apollo 11’s launch later this summer.
The 10 year old that he was had been waiting eagerly, his hunger only being sated by reading all sorts of Paranormal Magazines with journalism of dubious quality. Had it actually been an alien, and not Bella behind the mask, his would’ve written his otherworldly encounter to World Terror Magazine and win a lifetime supply of Hershey Bars.
Poe was a short and shy child from the well-to-do Watterson family, and Bella, his secret muse, was a 12 year old redhead from another well to do family that had lingered in North Carolina long before his own had decide to come all the way here from New Mexico.
She was two grades above him, but it felt like there was a lifetime of lived experiences that already separated them. Now deep in study in Middle School, her hair had grown long enough that she was earmarked to star as Rapunzel in the next school play, the proceeds of which were going to Poe’s elementary wrestling club.
“Well, don’t do it again,” He said, “You know how much I’m afraid of aliens.”
“Pendleton, there’s no such thing as aliens.”
Only she was allowed to call him by his first name, a privilege he didn’t even share with the rest of his family. They began to walk across the bridge and through the dismal fog that had shrouded Cameron for some time.
“Yes, there is!” He replied confidently, “I’ve read about it in World Terror Magazine!”
“Pfft, isn’t that the place that said Roswell has aliens working as bartenders?”
“Of course they do!” He was not as confident in this answer, “How else could they make money outside of Mars?”
“Well, my great uncle lives in Roswell and says he hasn’t seen one alien working the drive-ins since the crash in ‘47!”
“Ok, maybe they don’t work in McDonalds,” Poe felt his confidence beginning to wane, “But maybe instead they work for the government!”
“Oh, so now they’re working on Apollo in Austin, right?”
“Well, Yes!”
How else could the government fly men to the moon while the Russians haven’t? He thought.
“Alright Poe, we’ll see what happens when the times comes,” Bella teased him, “Maybe Armstrong’s going to plant a Martian flag on the moon instead!”
She began to giggle, and Poe loved it when she giggled. There was no better feeling than walking home after school with a pretty girl by his side, his bag loaded with marbles he’s won in hard fought duels at recess, along with a gift he wanted to give to her once they reached the crossroads together.
But first she wanted to give him her gift first.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“I’m going to the movies this afternoon, want to come with me?” She gently pushed one of the ticket stubs into his stubby little hands.
Poe was already beaming at such a delightful prospect, but his stomach began to quiver once he saw the title. It was for George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead, the horror movie blockbuster which had turned even the bravest of his classmates into scaredy-cats.
“How did you get these?”
“Friend of a friend,” She answered, “There’s nothing I can’t get my hands on.”
Poe looked down, and saw that they were valid for two weeks. They both lived in the one American town where movie tickets were valid for two weeks.
“We’re going to Canada for a week on Monday,” He answered pitifully, his eyes straying away from her and the strange horror movies she wanted to share with him, “And I’ll be busy all weekend packing.”
“Well, I can wait until you get back and then we can go and see it together.”
“I’m not sure they’ll let me in.”
“Well, we can bring your sister along, and the three of us can dress up in a trench coat,” Bella replied, “I’m sure the old lady won’t be able to tell the difference once she’s making us some popcorn.”
Poe was reluctant. He was interested in Science Fiction, but had rarely strayed into horror. War of the Worlds had terrified him, and he never understood why Bella had went back and devoured the film several more times until she felt she got her lions share of screams out of it.
“It’s not that bad Poe,” She suppressed a smile, “I’ll cover your eyes when something scary is bound to happen.”
She was embarrassing him again, tugging away at his childlike stoicism like that.
“Oh, alright,” He relented, “But promise me you won’t see it until I come back?”
“Pinky Promise!” And with that, the two were bound to the iron clad rules of childhood rules and responsibilities. Once their fingers broke apart, Poe found they’d arrived at the crossroads together. He was not going to let her walk away empty-handed.
“Here, I made this for you.” He began to rummage through the marbles and the half finished sandwiches he kept. Grandmother had tried to steer him away from a brown hat, that it would not look good on a redhead, but Poe had been persistent, considering how much platypus memorabilia Bella had collected when he was in her room with his sister.
“You made this for me?”
“Yes!” He smiled. He felt like a platypus now, staring up at her wide beaming eyes and content in the knowledge she was happy.
“Thank you so much Poe!” Then he was wrapped up again in her embrace, something which he so desperately craved from time to time.
“I need to run back to the forest now.”
“You’re going back to the forest again?” He his heart began to beat fast, and he felt this was a bad idea. Bella was dressed up in dark browns and a slick woolly coat to hold off the ensuing great Arizonian rain which had so quickly consumed Cameron these past few weeks.
“I think I might have a better chance of watching the platypus if they think I’m one.”
“But wouldn’t that…” He couldn’t find the words to voice his concern, or even knew what his concerns were. Bella being dressed up in brown furs and a platypus hat was bad, how exactly? Something that would look silly on any other girl in the world?
“Is there something wrong?” Bella asked, “I’m not going back there to cry, I promise.”
That’s how they’d first met, finding her her sitting in his favourite forest chair as a runny mess, and tried to comfort her with his silly bravado behaviour. She began to loosen up and smiled and then asked him not to tell anyone that she had been crying. He wouldn’t, only if she agreed to accompany him from time to time to get across the stoned bridge that seemed on the verge of collapse in his 8 year old mind.
She decided to go along with it, expecting him to grow tired of her as the days passed, but she found herself sticking around daily from there on in. She looked forward to him relaying his stories about who’d been pushed into the sandpit, or who lasted the longest on the monkey bars, and whether or not the pull up record that had remained from her time in Elementary had been broken or not.
“No, it’s nothing.” Poe whispered, his voice riddled with much doubt.
“Bring me back some me back some fridge magnets?” She’d already running back down the stony path, her red hair bustling out of the cramped beanie, “Okay?”
He wanted to play catch up, to tell her there was something ominous about this idea of pretending to be a platypus while in the forest, but he couldn’t.
“Okay.” It was all he could muster up.
“Seeya!”
“Seeya...” His eyes still trailed on her hair, until she was just a smidgen dot which had vanished behind the fog into the Conway forest. Then the Arizonian rain began it’s downpour, and Poe found his feet shuffling him back inside to the warmth that enveloped the Watterson residence.