Chapter 11:
September 22nd - 39 days until Halloween
Jack could not have been happier to have his son back with him. And, not a moment too soon. Halloween preparations were crazier than ever, September 22nd marking the official autumn season. This required everyone to pitch in. Except...
Bram had been acting rather strangely. After finding him, he'd seemed almost unaffected by the incident, as if it had never happened. As if the past 500 years never happened. He'd quickly picked up a deep enthusiasm that rivaled even Jack's. He'd find him up late at night, working on something scary. It was odd to say the very least. But, nonetheless, he appreciated having his son join him in the preparations.
The town hall was empty aside from Jack, Bram, and the Mayor, surveying multiple plans for Halloween pinned on the wall. The Mayor was ranting something about blood on the ground, soaking the people's socks, then raining frogs and birds.
"What do you think, Bram?" Jack asked. Bram shook his head, taking a few papers and rearranging them.
"Raining frogs and birds? Overflowing blood fountain? That's...cute. But, it could be better, old man."
That's the spirit! Jack smiled. "Well, what do you suggest?"
Bram unpinned and reapplied the papers with precision Jack had rarely ever seen.
"It needs more than a jump scare. Almost a creep vibe where you suspect the danger is right behind you, but don't realize it until...BAM!" he stepped back, revealing a plan of darkness, fireworks, smoke, and magical appearances. "It's too late."
The Mayor stood in surprise, motionless. Jack moved to stand by Bram. "It seems like we have a terrifying Pumpkin King in the making. Where are all these ideas coming from?"
Bram shrugged. "I don't mean to brag, but - "
"Jack!" the Mayor interrupted. "I don't mean to interject, but I thought the two of us were the ones making the plans."
"Well, Bram's the next Pumpkin King. I feel that he should have role in the preparations."
"But he never has before!" Mayor argued. Bram flashed him a cold, green stare.
"Now, Mayor. We must include Bram if he wants to. He is the next Pumpkin King, after all." Jack tried to be reasonable, even though he felt somewhat offended. "Let my son have a say, Mayor. Soon, you'll only be taking initiative from him without me."
Oogie stifled a cackle at the two officials' petty bickering. As amusing as it was, he wasn't totally finished. He still had to get Jack and his doll out of the way. Oogie crept behind the curtain and out the back door to the alley. They should've been there by now.
Idiots! he groaned.
The unmistakable sound of the bathtub hobbling down the stone street came clobbering into the alley. The three twits were sitting on its rims, a large sack in the tub.
"You got it?" Oogie demanded.
"Ten pounds of Deadly Nightshade, just like you asked," Lock confirmed. "When do we get our cut?"
"After we take over this washed-up, backwater town!" the boogeyman barked. "Now, sneak it into some tea or something. Take. Them. Out."
"Oogie, don't you think Bram will come back when he finds out Halloween belongs to you?" Barrel asked.
The bug-filled rag doll swung his arm at the young trick-or-treater, but stopped just as his hand nudged the boy's cheek. He knit his eyebrows together, thinking. Though he'd never admit it, the imp was right. That Rag Prince cared about his parents too much to let Oogie Boogie go through with this. If it was anything like last time, Jack (and if he was anything like his father, Bram) would have him squished.
"Just put the poison in!" he ordered. "I'll take care of the Prince."
Holly had examined Ben closely from that point on, noting every moment, every word he spoke. Very poetic, almost theatrical and melodramatic at times. He often rambled about composers such as Beethoven and Bach, his favorite musical being Phantom of the Opera, and sewed all the choir robes (changing them from white and gold to red with dark green). The likeness was uncanny, but how could she prove it?
On the day of the first dress rehearsal, her eyes were glued to the maestro. There had to be some way to prove that he was who she thought he was. There had to be some thread of proof. Thread? Sewing!
That's it! she proclaimed in her head as the choir had ended their last piece, and Holly applauded. The children and Ben (Bram?) all took a bow, and Holly stood to approach the conductor. He dismissed the children, helping Noelle off the stage before joining Holly.
"That was wonderful!" she exclaimed.
"Thank you," he said, blushing.
"Now, B-Ben," she stammered. "Well, I was about to - "
"Holly! Ben!" They both turned to look at the jolly man in red, a tall, rather well-built young man behind him. Holly nearly smiled that the pleasant "coincidence". She may have rumored to her father about Ben's sewing, and well...
"Father? Nick?" Holly asked transparently. "What are you doing here?"
"I must speak to Mr. Kin for a moment. Mr. Kin, my son Nicholas." Santa gestured to the man behind him.
"Nice to meet you sir," Nicholas shook Ben's hand.
"You, as well," Ben replied.
"So, Father?" Holly probed.
Santa cleared his throat. "Yes, of course. Mr. Kin, I have witnessed your fine artistry with the choir robes, and I've come to request a suit for Nicholas. If you don't mind, of course."
The lightbulb in Holly's mind grew brighter. She saw Ben nod. "I suppose I could pull a few strings."
Santa laughed heartily at the joke and patted the young man's shoulder. "That's the spirit! I'll leave you to it."
Holly couldn't have asked for a better opportunity. Sewing was a rag doll's greatest strength. If she could find a way to admit sewing body parts, maybe she could actually see and talk to Bram again...or make a complete fool of herself.
Bram had the slight suspicion that Holly was on to him. She was watching him more closely than ever, and it creeped him out a bit. He tried not notice it as he measured the features of the future Sandy Claws for his suit. The red of this suit was as red as his heart seemed, passionate and romantic. He wanted to tell Holly with all of his heart that he was Bram, that he was sorry, and that he'd do anything and everything for her. But, he worked at the sewing machine day and night, attaching buttons by hand and struggling to hide good seams.
Five weeks into making it, the door to the castle studio opened. Bram expected to see Holly, but instead found Nicholas.
"Fine craftsmanship," Nick commended.
"Thank you, sir. I wasn't exactly expecting you here," he admitted.
"You thought I was Holly." Bram shrugged one shoulder. "She certainly is enticed with you. Obsessed, almost. I think she may have slight crush on you."
Bram chuckled, trying to see it as a joke. Holly would never fall in love with a dismembered dishrag like him. She was far too independent for that. But he noticed Nicholas's face, and Bram's attitude immediately changed. He cleared his throat, stitching faux fur to the hem of the coat.
"I...I really don't think she'd want me," he mumbled.
"Nonsense!" Nick protested. "You'd be wonderful with her. She's seen you. You're all she and my triplet sisters talk about."
"I've just made so many mistakes."
"We've all made mistakes. We just have to learn from them and make things right again."
Bram tried to take reassurance in Nicholas's words. He was so kind, but how could it be the truth? Truly, this saint was meant to be Sandy Claws, even if he only had hands. He couldn't help but look back at everything he'd left behind: his parents, his friends, his town. Although it may seem as though he'd grown to detest it, Bram truly loved Halloween. It was a part of him, and he still loved it and his family. He remembered when his mother would stitch up his knee when he fell down, when his father would carry him on his shoulders, when he enjoyed scaring people just for a little laugh. He never wanted to hurt anyone.
"Ben?" He snapped his head up, Nick and Holly in the doorway. Nicholas glanced at his sister and allowed her inside.
"Do you mind if I watch you?" Holly asked. Bram gestured to the chair beside the sewing table, to which Holly obligingly took. Nick had made his way down the hall, and the two were left alone.
"It's autumn now," Holly said. "I finally got to see a real sunset." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He darted his gaze over to her, grinning briefly before returning to his work. "What were the autumn leaves like?"
Bram's work came to an abrupt halt. What was she doing? "Um...they were dry, and light, and very colorful. Not colorful like this place, but red, and orange, and yellow. I used to enjoy playing by the trees to catch them with my dog."
Holly smiled sweetly. "And, what about Halloween?"
A lump formed in his throat. She was on to him alright. It was almost scary how clever she was, but he was trying his best to mask her advances.
"Well, it was Halloween. Trick-or-treaters, candy, parties, decorations, the Undersea Gal in a bikini, bobbing for apples - "
"Undersea what?"
He'd said to much. "Just what we call the lady at the end of the well - HILL! Hill. At the end of the hill." She looked at him as if to say 'how stupid do you think I am?'. "It was always crazy around that time of year. We were very enthusiastic about it. Last year, I dressed up as Killer Sandy Claws."
Her eyebrows shot up. They then flattened in thought. "I hope you didn't lose any fingers."
Bram shrugged. "I always have some extra thread handy."
She jumped from her seat. "I knew it!"
Bram stumbled from his chair, alarmed at her harsh tone. "W-What?"
"Stop denying it. I know who you really are," she claimed.
She had figured it out! Numbskull! Numbskull! Sandy Claws, losing fingers, the Undersea Gal in a bikini! It was blatantly obvious! Oh, what was she going to do? Slap him across the face and throw him from the window? She marched closer to him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact. He was instead met by a warm hug.
"I missed you, Bram."
Thank you, readers. And special thx to my one fav. I'm going to be going on hiatus for the next week and a half or so. Ima goin' on a cruise! I shall return though! Thanks, and I love you. ;)