Sally stepped back from the dress, frowning to herself as she examined her handiwork. A slightly more colorful ensemble than she usually made for the townsfolk, the dress had splashes of bright emerald green among the more usual black and dark grays, mostly at the neck, waist, and ends of the sleeves. All six of them, in fact, as the client was a nice spider lady who had recently started to date a leprechaun from St. Patricksdale. Hence the green silk added to the dress, imported straight from said holiday world. It was an elegant and striking outfit, sure to catch the eye of everyone. The ragdoll should be pleased with what she had created.
Yet she couldn't appreciate her work. Sally bit her lip, glancing out the shop windows at the gathering gloom. When she had first decided to open a seamstress shop, Jack had offered to get her a larger place for her work, but Sally had preferred the smaller and more intimate accommodation. But now she almost wished she hadn't chosen this building, as the previously friendly shop felt borderline claustrophobic as her skin crawled with impending doom. The vague feeling of foreboding that she had woken up with had blossomed into a looming sense of dread.
Sally knew the feeling too well. The ragdoll abandoned the dress for now, crossing the floor to the shop counter. Her eyes traveled over the white-and-gray surface until they landed on a vase of withered flowers. She reached out and plucked a dead rose from the vase, hopping up onto a stool as she began to pluck the petals from the flower. Sally frowned at the rose, willing the plant to do something, anything to show her what was going to happen.
But she plucked the last petal without a single thorn changing. Sally huffed, tossing the stem onto the counter and grabbing another flower – a forget-me-not this time. Sally held her breath as she pulled each petal. Her Christmas premonition used a flower. It had to work, right?
It didn't work. Sally ripped the last petal off as she threw the stem down, clenching her jaw as she snatched another flower. A lily, the white color long since dried to a dusty yellow. Sally narrowed her eyes at the unresponsive plant as each petal drifted down onto the floor. "Come on, come on." She muttered, "Show me something!"
Nothing. Sally rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, frustration crossing her face. "Why can't you just show me what's wrong?!"
"Sally?!"
The ragdoll whipped her head around, dropping the lily stem. Jack stood at the shop door, his mouth hanging slightly open, his eye-sockets taking in his wife and the scattered petals surrounding her. His frozen shock didn't last for more then a moment. The skeleton rushed over to Sally's side. "Sally, what's the matter? Did you have a premonition?" He asked, his eye-sockets full of worry.
Sally shook her head. "Unfortunately, no."
"Unfortunately?" Jack tilted his skull, a confused frown on his face. "But...isn't that a good thing?"
"Normally it would be." The ragdoll reached up and started twisting the wedding ring on her finger. She glanced down at the orange-gold band, seeing how it glinted even in the low light of an overcast day, before looking back up into her husband's face. "But I woke up this morning with such a terrible sense of dread, like whenever I've had premonitions before. But this time, I didn't get a premonition at all! Not even a bad dream. Just this – this trepidation that's been getting worse throughout the day!"
Sally sighed. "I don't want a premonition. I really don't. But at least when I have premonitions, I knew what would happen. Like when I had my premonition about your Christmas, I could do something about that. I could try to prevent it or even lessen the blow. But this vague sense of wrong...I can't do anything about that!" Sally clenched her fists at the last word. She felt Jack put his arms around her shoulders. Sally leaned into the touch, putting her own arms around the skeleton's skinny frame. Jack returned the hug, rubbing the small of her back with the tips of his phalanges. Sally allowed herself a moment to enjoy her husband's touch before continuing.
"So I tried to force a premonition to manifest itself, but it doesn't seem to want to show me anything clear or substantial." The ragdoll frowned at the plucked petals scattered on the silvery carpet. "It's...peculiar, there's no better word for it. I never had to try to see what disaster was coming. Visions just show themselves to me, unexpected and unwanted. Now that I actually want one, I can't get even a glimpse. It's frustrating!"
"That is peculiar." Jack agreed, his voice laced with uncertainty. Not directed at her, Sally knew. Jack – and the rest of Halloween Town – had learned long ago to take Sally's visions and prophetic perceptions very seriously. "Not even a hint of what holiday or person is involved?"
"Nothing!" Sally shook her head. "It's – funny, in a way. It almost feels like I did have a vision, but I can't remember it. It's like an imprint of a missing vase upon a dusty shelf. Something should be there, but isn't."
Sally grimaced to herself. It's true that she never liked it when she had a vision. They were never precursors of anything good or desired of the ragdoll. But they were always needed, and since the disastrous Christmas, her premonitions had prevented many other hardships and catastrophes. The idea of Sally being unable to see the signs of another disaster was a disturbing one. She hated not being able to give anything more clearer than a vague warning.
"That...that is very troublesome." Jack stepped back and took her hands in his, the skeleton's long fingers eclipsing Sally's smaller palms. His own wedding ring gleamed in solidarity with hers. Despite the skeleton suddenly squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw in a moment of determination, Sally could still sense the worry coursing through her husband. "But I'm certain if we go through town, we'll be able to find out what's going to go wrong. And I can give a warning to the other Holiday leaders to keep an eye out for trouble."
Jack gave his wife an uneasy smile. Sally returned the smile, feeling a twinge of relief despite the ever-present trepidation lingering in the air. It didn't last long, as a thought clicked in Sally's mind. She frowned at Jack. "Wait – aren't you supposed to be planning with the Mayor today?"
The skeleton flinched. Sally narrowed her eyes up at her husband, the trepidation in her leafy guts turning over with a new worry. They were behind on planning for Halloween. Sally knew how the Mayor must be fretting over the delay – many times Jack had returned home late over the last few weeks. Jack wouldn't have been so inconsiderate to the Mayor and leave so early in the day unless it was something serious. "Jack, what happened?"
Jack glanced out the shop windows, his shoulders tensing up as the worry from the unknown problem creased his eyebrow ridges. Sally found herself biting her lip again, wishing that she could brush away the strain from Jack's face, wishing that she could brush away the dread from her own heart. But both were impossible, no matter what Sally wished. She can only hope that whatever problem Jack had left early for didn't have anything to do with her missing vision.
"Well, the Mayor had brought up Lock, Shock, and Barrel during our planning...and he apparently saw the trio talking to our son."
Sally blinked as Jack launched into an explanation of what the Mayor had told him earlier. She certainly knew all about the trio's latest prank. Sally and the children had run into the pumpkin creatures a couple of times before Jack was able to round them up, and to call them "destructive nuisances" didn't get across just how persistently obnoxious the creatures had been. Their youngest daughter Mary was still mourning the loss of many of her drawings from when one of the creatures had sneaked into their manor and trashed her room. That had been the final straw for both Skellington parents in regards to treating the living pumpkins with any clemency.
And now Jack was telling her their Clive might have been involved in all that? Even without her odd lack of a premonition, such an idea unsettled her. Sally felt herself mirroring her husband's tense pose, her mind churning with troublesome possibilities, not the least of which is the rather alarming idea that her missing premonition had something to do with her son's association with the town's notorious trick-or-treaters. She didn't want to think that Clive could get hurt – or end up hurting anyone else, either.
"I don't know if Clive had anything to do with those pumpkin creatures. But if he's talking to those three, he might be the reason Lock, Shock, and Barrel enchanted those pumpkins in the first place." Jack's voice brought Sally out of her thoughts. The skeleton frowned as he brushed the back of her hands with the tips of his phalanges. "I was worried when the Mayor told me about Clive, but with a possible premonition involved too...Sally, do you think that might be why you woke up with such trepidation?"
Sally wished Jack hadn't said that. It wasn't anything more than what she have already considered, but hearing it said out loud brought the undesirable prospect from the vague realm of thoughts to possible reality. Once again, Sally cursed her current inability to know more about her sense of dread. It was as frustrating as it was concerning. What can she do if she doesn't know any specifics?
Barely anything, but she can do something for her son. Sally shook her head. "I don't know, but we can talk to Clive first before we come to any conclusions. And Lock, Shock, and Barrel if we can find them."
A thought sparked in her mind, an idea that, against her current overload of worries, somehow lessened them slightly. Sally gave Jack a small smile, her thoughts turning the idea over as she talked. "Maybe...maybe this can be a good thing, Jack."
Jack blinked at Sally's sudden change of demeanor. He tilted his skull, his frown deepening. Yet despite his questioning look, Sally knew that Jack would trust her judgment from the way his shoulders loosened from their tense position, even if just slightly. Ever since that first Christmas, he always did.
"We've been trying to get Lock, Shock, and Barrel to change for years now." Sally explained. "Perhaps Clive can do what we couldn't. He's a child like them, after all, they just might listen to him!"
"They never listened to any of the other children in Halloween Town." Jack pointed out.
"But they weren't ever really friends with the other children either."
"With good reason! Those three are far worse with kids their own age – I hate to imagine how they'd treat any of our children if they weren't ours." Jack added with a scowl. His brief anger gave way to concern. "Besides, they could easily influence Clive into bad behavior as much as he could influence them. What if he did help Lock, Shock, and Barrel with enchanting the pumpkin creatures?"
"Then we'll talk to him, and perhaps make sure they're supervised until we can be sure it's not dangerous for Clive or anyone else." Sally sighed, raising her small hand to brush her husband's face. "It's not a perfect idea, I know. It's not even a particularly good one, and I'm not going to pretend I'm not worried, but you've said it yourself so many times. Nothing else has gotten through to the trick-or-treaters. Maybe our son will."
"Hmm, I don't know Sally..." Jack leaned into Sally's touch. "Maybe Clive can do it...but he's not the most assertive child either."
"He gets that from me, unfortunately." Sally admitted, giving Jack a cheeky grin. "Assertiveness was never a strong point for either of us."
Her husband returned her grin with a smile of his own. "Oh, I wouldn't say that! You had no issue telling me that taking over Christmas was a bad idea. It wasn't your fault that I was a fool and didn't listen to you."
"And we'll make sure that we don't make the same mistake with Clive." Sally caressed Jack's face with her thumb. "Perhaps our son is stronger than everyone gives him credit for."
"I wouldn't be surprised. He's like his mother in so many other ways." Jack reached up and tapped his wife on the nose. Sally couldn't help but giggle at Jack's playfulness. Wasn't it only a few seconds ago that they had been twisted up in worry?
"But yes, you're right as always Sally!" Jack continued, the last of his doubt fading away. "We'll talk to Clive and plan from there. And I'll talk to the other Holiday Leaders about your missing premonition."
For a second Sally's dread threatened to flood back. It's funny how both her and Jack had decided that her premonition was merely missing, as if it had taken a wrong turn somewhere on the way to her mind. But Sally looked up at Jack's face, saw his optimistic skeletal grin, and felt herself relax despite everything. She leaned onto the tips of her toes, the better to kiss her unusually tall husband, and gently pulled his face towards hers.
The air was torn asunder with a thunderclap. Jack and Sally didn't start – they were too used to the scares of Halloween for them to be startled by something so mundane as thunder – but the couple turned around to look out the shop windows, the moment between them lost. The street outside had darkened since Jack entered the shop, as gloomy as dusk in autumn. Beautiful weather, yet Sally could tell once the storm breaks no one but the most aquatic creatures would be able to stay outside.
"We need to find Clive before the storm breaks." Jack muttered, voicing the thoughts in Sally's head. He turned back to his wife. "Of course you're coming with me, right Sally?"
Jack didn't even need to ask. "Of course." Sally glanced back at the shop, seeing its shadowy corners and how the spider lady's dress almost looked like a person in the darkness. She knew her prophetic trepidation would emerge from the shadows the moment she was alone again. Sally had no intention of being alone.
Before it could creep up on her, Sally stepped up and drew Jack down for a kiss. She felt Jack's hand brush through her hair, felt his stitch-like lips on hers, and for one single moment everything seemed right. Sally wished they could stay like this for much longer. They could wait out the storm in her shop, spend some much needed alone time together. But far too soon the kiss ended, and the taste of Jack left the ragdoll's lips. She sighed as she looked up at her husband, the dread of a missing premonition settling back into her heart.
"Let's go find our son Jack."