Part 1 of 3
"No way!" Ten-year-old Braeden Gold ripped off his Tenth Doctor Halloween mask and tossed it in the dirt, shaking his head wildly. "Take it back, Emma!"
"It's true, Bae!" Emma Nolan, his best friend and next door neighbor, jabbed his chest with a glittery silver magic wand. "You know I'm right. Ask Auggie, ask Graham, ask anyone."
Tomorrow was Halloween, and they were walking the half mile home from school following their class Halloween parade and party. Usually, Bae loved spending time with Emma, but some days she was stubborn and mean. Today was one of those days.
"Huge, creepy, pink house on a hill? And isn't it, like, over one hundred years old?" Emma needled him as they cut through the pumpkin patch behind Bae's house. "Of course it's haunted. Why do you think no one goes trick-or-treating there?"
"Our house is not pink! It's salmon!" Bae cried.
"Same diff," Emma scoffed.
Hot prickles of embarrassment burned his cheeks. Why couldn't they get the house painted a normal color? Better yet, they should move as far away from Emma Nolan and her stupid lying face as possible. Maybe to the other side of town. Or California.
"You'll be sorry for spreading lies," Braeden threatened. "My dad gives out full size candy bars, and you won't get one!"
"So what?" Emma stuck out her tongue. "It's not a lie! Not if you're telling someone what you saw. I've watched the ghost float out the back door of your house, through this pumpkin patch, and down the hill in her white shroud from my room."
"You've seen a ghost? Leaving my house?" Braeden sucked on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. Emma's bedroom window had a perfect view of the field of pumpkins behind his backyard. "There's no such thing as ghosts!" Tears burned his eyes and he swiped at them angrily. No way would he cry like a whiny baby in front of Emma Nolan.
"Yes." Emma's nod was serious. "A ghost with long, dark hair, hovering above the ground. She always wears a flowing white shroud. I've seen her almost every night for the past few weeks."
"What's a shroud?" Bae asked, stumbling over one of the pumpkin patch's gnarled branches as he wound his way through the maze of fat, orange gourds.
"It's what they used in the old days to wrap bodies in when people died," Emma explained.
He kicked at a twisted twig; it looked like cluster of clawed fingers and he shuddered. "I don't believe you."
"Are there any girls with long, dark hair living at your house?"
"No," Bae admitted, feeling a pang of longing for something he couldn't name.
"Well then." Emma crossed her arms with a smug smile. She twirled around the pumpkin patch in her princess ball gown, the swish of her blonde ponytail churning Braeden's gut like eggs scrambled in a white hot pan.
"You are…Ugh!" Braeden stomped his foot, wanting to shut her up, but also wanting her to keep talking to him. Emma was a terrible tease. It was annoying, but she was his best friend. She was smart, pretty, and she could scramble up a tree faster than anyone he'd ever seen. There were times he wanted to punch her in the nose, and there were times that looking at her made his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.
"I'm what?" she challenged, swatting him with her treat bag from the school party.
"You aren't my friend anymore!" Bae said, then whirled toward his house to finish the trek home solo.
"Bae, wait. I'm sorry." She tugged on his coat sleeve and he turned back to face her. Emma's sky blue eyes were saucer-wide in her face. "I'm just telling you what I saw."
Bae crossed his arms and turned away from her again, but this time he didn't try to leave.
"I have an idea," Emma said, touching his shoulder.
"What?" he asked dully, still not looking at her.
"I'll prove it to you. Tomorrow night. Meet me at my house and we'll watch for the ghost. Ten o' clock."
"At night?"
"Yes, at night, silly. That's when ghosts come out," Emma said.
"How am I gonna sneak out of the house?" he asked, worried.
Braeden's father was nothing but kind. Sure he was as strict as any parent, but he was always pleasant and helpful—the best dad a kid could ask for. As far back as he could remember, it had been just he and Dad banging around that creaky old house. But people in town were afraid of his father. His father had a notorious temper—particularly with folks who didn't pay their rent on time. Those people got in trouble because they broke the rules, and Bae didn't want to be one of them.
"Tomorrow's Friday and it's Halloween. No school the next day, so even if we stay up really late we can sleep in on Saturday," Emma reasoned. "Besides, you said your dad goes to bed early, right?"
"Yeah." Lately, his father had been going to bed right after tucking him in. Every morning, though, Dad had been yawning and falling asleep in his cereal bowl. Yesterday he'd actually dunked his head in the bowl, started snoring, and didn't wake up until he snorted milk. He looked ridiculous, sputtering milk with wet Cheerios stuck to his face, but he didn't seem to mind. The fearsome pawnbroker had merely laughed and headed to the bathroom to wash up. Bae shrugged. Parents were weird.
"What about you?" he asked, concerned for Emma. "Won't your Mom and Dad…?"
"Nah, they're too busy changing Neal's disgusting diapers." Emma wrinkled her nose in distaste.
Emma's parents were on the lenient side, and since her baby brother Neal had come along six months ago, they were always fussing over him. Bae knew that Emma was a little jealous of not being the center of attention any more, but her newfound freedom more than made up for it.
"How about this?" Emma snapped her fingers. "We'll trick or treat together tomorrow, then when we come back to my house and dump our candy, I'll ask my parents if we can have a sleepover. That way, you don't have to worry about sneaking out."
Bae considered. If he went along with Emma's plan, he could be there to prove her wrong when the ghost was a no-show. First, he was going to the library to do a little ghost research of his own, and talk to Miss French. He wasn't going to mention that to Emma because her parents and other people around town whispered about Storybrooke's librarian. They said she was mysterious, but Bae didn't understand why. He liked Miss French a lot; she was always friendly and open with him, and she had a way of making hard things make sense. Maybe she could even suggest some good books that would explain all about ghosts and goblins.
"So are we doing this?" Emma pressed, a sly grin creeping over her face.
"Fine." Anything to get Emma off his case and to abandon the ridiculous idea that his house was haunted.
"Awesome. This is gonna be so cool!" Emma crowed.
"Uh huh," Bae said distractedly, racking his brain for an excuse to leave. "Oh, no! I forgot! Soccer practice! I gotta go," he lied. "See you tomorrow, Emma!"
Leaving Emma on the sidewalk between their two houses, he raced back toward the school. Once he'd disappeared around the corner, he shifted track and headed for the Storybrooke Community Library.
Belle French strolled through the library, flicking her feather duster at cobwebs and clearing stray books off study tables and out of cozy reading alcoves. Save for the creaks and groans common among older buildings, the library was as quiet as a tomb tonight.
Pride welled in her chest as Belle surveyed the spooky scene: the library had been lavished with Halloween decorations including lit pumpkins, creepy skeleton bones, and her personal favorite—creepily realistic black widow spiders. She laughed to herself at the tongue-in-cheek nod to the moniker the townspeople had assigned to her.
Piling books on the shelving carts dotted around the large room, Belle came up short at the sight of a young boy bent low over a stack of books. She smiled; she would know that dark crop of curls and those little pixie ears anywhere. Braeden Gold.
Crumpling a bit of paper so she didn't startle him with her approach, Belle inched closer and peered over his shoulder. Ghost House, Is My House Haunted?, Kids Who See Ghosts, Halloween Haunting, and Ghost Hunting for Dummies were a few of the titles that littered the study table.
"Evening, Braeden. I like your Halloween costume." Belle grinned in delight at the little suit, sneakers, and full-length trench coat he wore.
He turned toward her with a slight smile and tugged on his tie. "Hi, Miss French. Thanks. I'm Ten from Doctor Who. My dad picked it out for me."
"Your dad has great taste."
"Yeah."
"And speaking of the spookiest day of the year, that's quite a selection of books you have there," Belle said, fingering one of the dog-eared pages. "You like ghosts, huh?"
"Not exactly," he said. It's, um, a research project. For school."
"Really?" Belle stared at the ten-year-old in surprise. "Your teacher usually has me set books aside for special projects. I didn't know the fourth graders were talking about paranormal activity."
"Para-what?" Bae tilted his head and looked at her strangely.
"Ghosts, honey," Belle said, biting back a smile. His pensive frown was a copycat of his father's.
"Oh yeah. Right."
Belle shrugged; she was always eager to foster a love of reading and research, especially with children.
"What about your father?" Belle cleared her throat, hoping Bae couldn't see the blush she felt creeping up her cheeks. "Does, ah, does he like ghost stories?"
Bae chewed the tip of a pencil thoughtfully. "I don't really know."
"Well, I'll let you get back to work," Belle said, not wanting to pump him for information about his dad. "We're closing in thirty minutes. Let me know if you need any help, hmm?"
"Miss French, wait. Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, Braeden." Belle pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.
"So I have this friend I really like, but I don't know if she likes me. What should I do?" he asked.
"Seems like a simple enough question, but feelings make it complicated, don't they?" Belle nodded sympathetically.
"Yeah," he said with a sigh.
Belle mulled it over, astonished to find the question was relevant to her own life at the moment. "I would say you should let the person know you care."
"And what if she laughs at me?"
This young man cut right to the point, and Belle was impressed by his maturity. She had a sneaking suspicion they were discussing Braeden's pretty blonde classmate Emma Nolan, but she didn't say so. "That's always a possibility, but if they're someone worth caring for, they won't laugh at you. Either way being honest is best, because then you know where you stand. My advice is to take the risk and share your feelings," she advised.
"Is that what you do when you care about someone?" he asked, guileless brown eyes searching hers.
"Well, it's what I want to do. It's not always easy to take your own advice, but nothing is ever as bad or as difficult as it seems," she said, patting his hand. "And love is always worth the risk."
"You're right," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair.
"Why don't you finish your research and head on home, sweetie?" Belle glanced at the clock on the wall; it was nearly suppertime. "I'm sure your dad is waiting for you to come home and eat dinner with him."
"Thanks, Miss French," he said, picking up his books and moving to the counter. "I always…things always feel better after I talk to you."
"You're welcome, Bae." She reached across the desk and hugged his narrow shoulders. "I'm always here for anything you need."
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It's Halloween somewhere. Part 2 goes up tomorrow morning!