Ch.3: Even the Best Laid Plans
One look at the bill made Jack realize that the Household Leech Brothers sucked more than just blood. He sighed, tossing the invoice unto the rest of the 'to be paid' stack on his desk. It was only 4 months ago that he paid out for foundation repairs and yet there was no end in sight to the list of broken down items. And yet for Jack Skellington, these were the least of his headaches. All about town, decors were put up only to be taken down again because of missing ornaments. Conflicts with scheduling ate up his time with Sally, who had to rely on herself to learn the last steps to dancing.
Mayor had tried to reassure him that it was only natural he felt that way. After all, it was not everyday Halloween Town turned 500 and so Jack would never be content with everything. Still the Pumpkin King couldn't help it, especially since Sandy had accepted the invitation. Everything had to be PERFECT.
So distracted he was that he barely noticed what he read in the Daily Scare. News coverage over the upcoming Autumn Ball and Sandy's arrival dominated the front page. All other local reports, like broom flying regulations and a break in at the Museum of History and Unnatural Sciences, were shunted into the lower corner margins.
Wolfing down his burnt toast and black coffee, Jack sped through his usual morning rituals and rushed for the Town Hall. If there were any last minute details he wanted to have the final say. Mayor was already at the scene looking quite frantic until he spotted Jack.
"Jack! O, Jack!" The stout man called as he waved his clipboard. "Witch Maple called in sick and says she can't finish the jack o' lantern centerpieces. Harlequin Demon reported that the fake ooze is still a bit runny. And Clown requests that he be allowed to use explosive balloons."
Jack nodded, ducking under an incoming rack of barbequed rats. "Then give the assignment to Witch Birch, she knows what to do. Tell Harlequin to add cornstarch. As for Clown, my answer is still no."
Scribbling madly, Mayor fought to keep up after Jack's wide strides. Yet Jack showed no signs of slowing down. He passed every stand, looking at everything with a scrutinizing eye.
All around them the town residents bustled about. Ghosts strung up the remaining orange and black streamers. The dirge band's instruments clunked out a melancholy tune. Cauldrons churned, casting an eerie green light upon the witches' harsh features. Everyone was in on the preparations…well almost everyone.
Peeping from behind a
cart, Shock ducked as Jack's lithe frame strode by. She turned to
her two cohorts and sneered. "Grown ups are so stupid. So what if
the town is 500 years old? Big deal!"
Lock rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, and who'd want to go to some lame ball anyway? Besides,
all they do is dance and kiss all night."
"It's not like were invited, so it doesn't matter anyway," Barrel mumbled around a lollypop.
The witchling smirked at this. "Then we might as well invite ourselves. After all, someone's gotta show the grown ups what fun is right?"
"Right" chorused Lock and Barrel. The three snickered sinisterly.
Lock eyed the long broom that nestled on Shock's shoulder. "You're not bringing that thing along are you?" he asked in disbelief.
The other shot back a haughty look. "So what if I'm?" Removing the broom from its place, Shock caressed the smooth red mahogany surface. The word 'Zephyr' was emblazoned in gold on the handle.
Barrel stared enviously at, reaching out and fingering the straight bristles of the tail, only to draw back his hand when Shock swatted it away. "Man, what I wouldn't give to own one of those," he said in awe. "I can't believe your Aunt Gertrude would part with it."
"Well, she didn't just hand it to me, dummy," Shock quipped. "Let's say I'm borrowing it for a while."
Lock scoffed. "You can't even fly it, Shock. It's too big for you!"
"Is not!" Shock stuck her tongue at him. "If I can fly my training broom, then this one will be easy. It can't be all that different."
"Yeah right."
Glaring at him indignantly, Shock shoved the broom under her and swung one leg over the side.
"Shock, what are ya doing?" Barrel exclaimed.
The broom quivered slightly but Shock paid no mind to it. "Showing you idiots that I can do this." Frowning, she gripped tight to the handle and kicked off. A second later and she was far above their astonished faces. A few loops and even Lock had to admit that Shock had the control.
Such a spectacle did not
go unheeded. Some gargoyles stopped their work and stared while some
witches just shook their heads and waggled their tongues. Yet not
everyone knew what was happening. Far below, Jack was too engrossed
in examining some of the bakery goods.
Rubbing a bony finger under
his chin, Jack frowned as he examined the samples of caramel apples
Sally handed to him. Taking a bite, he chewed slowly and smiled in
delight. "Sally, you've really outdone yourself. Is that cinnamon
I taste?"
His rag doll sweetheart nodded. "I added a dash to the caramel syrup. I'm glad you like it."
"Like it? I love it! Would you care to make more for the party?"
"Of…of course Jack." Sally blushed, flattered that Jack put so much confidence in her. Sewing was one thing, but cooking another. Sewing came naturally for her, but the act of putting effort into cooking was more worthwhile.
"Jack!" Mayor called as he stumbled over a fake skeleton decoration. His face for once was on the happier side. "The stone masons finished the statue. And I must say, they did a horrific job!"
Jack grinned. "Excellent! Let's take a look shall we?"
The residential area square buzzed with anticipation, the inhabitants squeezed into the narrow streets, so that transverse through them was almost impossible. Jack, Sally, and Mayor had to get out of the hearse and set out on foot. Only with much pushing and foot-stepping were they able to make it to the stage, which stood in front of a massive object covered in a white tarp.
"They're ready for the unveiling, Jack." Mayor thumped Jack on the back (or though rather, for he could only reach so high).
With one step, Jack vaulted unto the raised platform. He spread his arms in welcome. The sound of a thousand clapping hands, paws, flippers, hooves, and tentacles resounded in response.
"Thank you for coming everyone!" Jack said as the noise died down. "I'd like to give our greatest thanks to those made this all possible: the Lycan Masonry, the Witches Works, Dr. Finkelstein, and all those who funded the project." Again there was applause then silence as Jack continued.
"As you know, Halloween Town was not the grand place you see before you today. Not at all. In the 16th century, our founders came here for various reasons, persecution being one of them. Determined to find a haven for themselves, they broke ground here, establishing a colony of thatched housing.
"But it was not easy. Many difficulties
hampered their efforts, for they had to battle nature itself. The
hard soil refused to yield anything. The spring water was so acidic
that many died from poisoning. Scorpions and other deadly creatures
plagued the alleyways. And yet our ancestors proved
resourceful.
"Only when one clever ghoul by the name of Oldof
the Odiferous found a way to cultivate pumpkins did the town manage
to have a stable source of food. He added minerals to the water,
which gave it a green hue but nevertheless made it drinkable. These
and other innovations made it possible for our ancestors to survive
and thrive.
"However, the village still faced adversity from the native population. Walls and towers were built to drive the hordes of various malevolent creatures. As the village grew and needed more land, the greater the number of skirmishes occurred until a full scaled ensued. The fighting lasted centuries until fate became merciful to us.
"Now there are a few of you today who remember that day when a storm brought a stranger to our gates. I'm talking about no one other than the great Jack Pumpkinhead, the first Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, my predecessor and mentor.
"He was a wise and just ruler. And even as prominent a character he was, he was always good to those below him. Many came seeking for his advice. Most importantly, he gave Halloween Town a vision; a vision that called for better times. Through his efforts, he purged the city of it evils. He renovated the sanitation system, directed the construction of more stable and elegant buildings, and set up the prestigious University of Halloween Town, or U of H as known by those who loved the alma mater dearly. Lastly, he defeated and banished the monsters that had threatened the town from of old.
And with his passing we hold his memory more dear, and I too especially. I'm honored to have known him for he had inspired me, inspired us all, to make this town our own. Halloween Town owes much to this esteemed figure so it's only fitting that commemorate the anniversary of the founding of this town with a memorial built in dedication of the man who had done much for it."
With a slight bow, Jack gripped the tassel. A quick yank and the heavy tarp fell, revealing its precious cargo.
The audience gasped in admiration as the form of Jack Pumpkinhead towered above them. The limbs so masterfully crafted were held in a way that brought life to the statue, gracefully arched in a fluid dance. The coat tails seemed to trail with the movement. Yet it was the head that Jack was most impressed by. Chiseled into the granite pumpkin was the smile he remembered so well, a smile that radiated mirth and mischief. Jack only hoped that the Pumpkin King costume he wore every Halloween did justice to his one time mentor.
Suddenly from the crowds rose a cry as a small figure in the air darted from behind the apartment complex. Its rider struggled to dodge the hanging lingerie. Shock pursed her lips as she narrowly avoided a fire escape. Her joyride had more than proven that she was adept at handling the broom and yet she didn't feel like coming down just yet. The thrill of freedom in the air coupled with the urge to show off kept her going. On entering the residential area, Shock stared in confusion at the multitude below her. So intent on finding out what was happening that she failed to watch where she was going. It was a cry from below that startled her to her senses.
"Look out!" Jack shouted.
Shock turned just in time. Screaming, she gripped the handle, veering off from a collision course with the statue's head. A few twigs in the broom's tail snapped as they grazed the unyielding stony fingers. The broom spun wildly and Shock's vision was blocked as her hat fell to her eyes. Growling in frustration, Shock shoved the brim back just as the festival banners rushed up at her. Then the world tumbled as the witchling, broom and all, ended up tangled in the veil of fabric. The rungs gave into the weight and the entire mess tore and fell into a crumpled heap on the cobblestones.
Jack and Sally rushed anxiously over. With much effort, they pried Shock from her sheet prison. Seeing that she was in no way injured, Jack heaved a sigh of relief and a look of annoyance replaced his worried one. "Shock, what are you doing? This is no way for children to play."
Head still spinning, Shock stared as her vision cleared and she found herself face to face with a scowling Jack Skellington. Beside him, Sally looked on curiously. Shock gave a weak smile. "Eh, heh. Just playing a trick, Jack." With that she dashed away disappearing into the crowds.
If Jack had eyes he would have rolled them. Instead he shook his head. "Honestly. I ought to talk to their guardians," he muttered.
"It's okay, Jack," Sally said. "They're only children after all. It's their nature to get into trouble."
"Normal children you mean. At their age, I'd never…"
"Jack!" The two turned as the Hanging Tree approached them. Its five skeletal men swayed ever so slightly as it nodded in greeting.
Jack blinked. "Oh, hello Hanging Tree. That ointment the witches gave you must be working. That root fungus finally cleared up I see," he said pleasantly.
"Shh. Don't mention it here, Jack. No one talks about embarrassing things like this in public you know."
"Right. What can I do for you?"
The gnarled old tree leaned forward. "It's about the cemetery. As you know, I often found it a relaxing place to stroll through. As of late, however, I couldn't help noticing that some of the headstones were knocked over and the graves dug up."
Jack frowned. "Desecration," he answered darkly. "We hadn't had a case of it since people used tombstones as benches." He nodded at the Hanging Tree. "Thank you, I'll look into it."
"Should I come along, Jack?" inquired Sally.
He shook his head. "It's not necessary. It'll be a quick check and I'd rather you stay and help prepare for the ball. Besides," he said with a smile. "I think you'll need time to finish that dance dress you're working on."
Sally stared in amazement. "Why, how did you know?"
He gave her a wink. "News travels fast in Halloween Town, especially among gossiping witch shopkeepers." He gave her an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder. "Whatever you have in mind, I'll look forward to it."
Passing through the gates, Jack allowed himself to relax. His feet carried him away from the town, treading on a path he knew so well. What was that saying? Nature made a man whole again, he remembered. Indeed it was a balm for his tortured soul. His anxieties were siphoned away by the brisk fall air. His mind became clear as the crisp autumn sky.
And that was what bothered him very much. Stress was normal, especially with the critical day coming up. But no, it was something else that gnawed at him. As of late he was always dissatisfied.
Although he often confided in Sally about his inner demons, he felt that this was one he shouldn't share with her. No, he would never dare burden her this way. The last time he felt like this she feared that he would leave again. Jack kept these thoughts to himself and the longing persisted until his walks became longer and more frequent. Many nights he found himself gazing as if in search for something yet he knew not what it was.
It was the same emptiness he had felt the night three years ago. A restlessness, an urging that tormented him to the brink of his sanity. For what he did not know. It was not as if he was bored of Halloween, on the contrary. And yet that was what aggravated Jack the most, not knowing the cause of his impatience.
He sighed and shoved the unpleasant thoughts away, welcoming the indifference of nature. He had work to do and a party to plan for. Whatever the problem was in the graveyard must be dealt with and quickly.
Going through the pet cemetery, Jack spotted a dim specter emerging from a grave, yipping madly and pursuing him. It's jack o' lantern nose cast a warm orange glow on Jack's solemn features.
"Hello, Zero," Jack smiled weakly, earning a wag from the ghostly canine's non-existent tail.
With the help of Zero, Jack found the indicated spot quickly. Sure enough, the headstone had been roughly handled and thrown carelessly aside. A gapping hole yawned before him framed with unearthed dirt clods. All around the site bones were strewn about, their bleached white surfaces protruded from the soil.
Looking at the plaque Jack noted the grave belong to Witch Oak, who had passed away 4 months ago from over gorging of vulture gullets, which was fatal when consumed in large quantities. With such a short passage of time, the bones should not be this clean and yet here they were otherwise.
Perhaps the vultures got to them, reasoned Jack, which left him with the dilemma of what motive was for the cruel treatment of her remains. Then his attention was drawn to Zero's barking. He ran up the slope to find a ghastly sight at the top. Dozens of graves were exposed; the bones of their owners lie scattered so that it was near impossible to recognize which belong to a certain corpse. The stench was overpowering that Jack was thankful he lacked a nose. More often than not the bones were picked clean like Oak's.
Suddenly Zero began to bark so violently that it started Jack. The ghost dog took off, circling a gnarled old willow, snarling and snapping at an unseen object. Behind the tree, a fleeting form huddled in the shadows.
Jack frowned and approached the tree slowly, straining to see. His motions however spooked the creature so that it darted out in plain sight. Before Jack, a blueish green imp squatted, staring back with its yellowed eyes. Its large bat-like ears twitched anxiously. Clenched between its jaws was a thin arm bone. Their gazes met for a second before the imp bared its teeth and hissed. Then the tiny critter darted into a crevice in a rock outcrop.
Jack blinked in disbelief. "Jitters," he murmured. The creatures themselves were relatively harmless, being scavengers. Nevertheless they were pests that were banished from the realm long ago by Jack Pumpkinhead due to their destructive feeding behavior. Yet it was not these odd critters that worried Jack, rather what their presence meant. Usually their appearance was an omen of death. They travel in groups, following and stealing food from larger and more dangerous hunters.
The question was, what were they doing in Halloween Town?
