The fall festival was held on the football field at school and nearly everybody came. There were games and concession stands and arts and craft tables. Strings of lights illuminated the small town carnival. Scarecrows stood at attention with gleeful sentinels of jack-o-lanterns. Our threesome managed to do just about everything of interest. I won at knocking over milk bottles and dunking the English teacher clown, Mr. Klinss, into a vat of water. After our fourth round of the cake walk Henry meets up with us. He escorted me to the far side of the field where his friends, the rest of the football team and the cheerleaders, were waiting. I pretty much ignored the local pop culture in favor of more interesting things, like dirt. Henry walked me around introducing me to everybody. The head cheerleader, Bethany Wren, stood all the while in an isolated group with her closest girlfriends. I had no doubt she had a cute little doll of me with pins stuck in it on her dresser. She was like that, perfect teeth, long strait blonde hair, brown eyes and an imposing figure of five foot nine. Henry was oblivious to Bethany, which made her scowl all the more at me. I managed to sneak away from Henry and I cautiously went around the bleachers to the back of the press box. There I paced back and forth and stopped occasionally to glance out at the football field or at the trees. Neither of which offered me any comfort. Both were enemies in my minds eye. One held the warm glow of social conflict while the other held a cold fearful unknown. I thought out both sides and what each had to offer and then followed up with the realization of much needed therapy. I shook my head and chided myself on the poor management of the mental scales. At least I could go back home early and call it a night. That defiantly had an appealing ring to it. I turned on my heels and marched back onto the field and to Henry's side. "Where've ya been, Charlotte?" he asked jovially. "Oh, no where. There was a horrible line at the bathroom." I lied. "Oh. Okay." He smiled. I casually steered him away from his friends. "Henry? Can we go home? I'm kind of tired." I asked pleadingly. He looked down at me in kind of confused expression. "Sure, Charl. I thought we were having fun? But if you want to go we can don't get me wrong." "Oh I know Henry. Was there something else you wanted to do?" "Well after this I wanted to take you by Patriot Park. Its very nice this time of year." he said sheepishly. I smiled up at him. "Of course, Henry. I love the colors. We hardly get some of them in the south." We walked on to the truck joking and laughing all of the way. The drive was just as nice. The park was located on the west side of town not very far from the cemetery. It was quite spacious, with one side backed by the Hudson, one by the cemetery, one the public road and the other by private property, which I was surprised to find, belonged to my uncle. Henry walked me into the park on the main path. It bee lined to a picnic area and turned sharply into the dense foliage of the hiking paths. We sat on the picnic tables and I looked out over the park. "Do you really think we should be here by ourselves?" I asked nervously "What with the Horseman and all." Henry looked me in the face and smiled with his prize winning grin. "Never fear fair maiden I shall protect thee from that black hearted knave!" I had to laugh at that. Sweet Henry he really knew how to make you laugh. I looked around the park again. The trees stood like dark specters in the night. The moon was at a good ways full and so cast silver on every thing from the tables where we sat to the far off Hudson barely visible through some bushes. I looked back at Henry, who was staring at the ground, obviously thinking about something. Finally he stirred from his reverie. He looked around himself, blinked and moved closer to me. Before I knew it his arm was around my shoulders. He never moved from that position so I leaned in on his chest. I was very tired. I began to fiddle with a ring on my hand. It had been my sixteenth birthday present from Nanny. It was white gold and was set with a perfect piece of bloodstone. I did on occasion wear my primary birthstone, aquamarine, but I liked the way bloodstone seemed to have a character all its own. The back of my hand itched. As I scratched it my skin started to prickle all over. I had begun to get that back of your neck feeling of being watched. I sat up strait startling Henry. I glared into the surrounding darkness for a sign as to who was out there. The wind shifted slightly and my senses were struck by a strangely familiar smell. It gave me goose bumps. I turned my head slowly to face the wind and suddenly understood my prickly skin and goose flesh. Not more than thirty yards off, in the protection of the trees, stood a lone figure on horseback. We locked "eyes" and in that brief second I took him all in. The horse was huge and coal black, the horseman's uniform was a faded green and the tattered cape that hung lifelessly was trimmed with a faded crimson. Sword, pistol, and stirrups glittered in the moonlight as did the buckles on his black boots. He sat perfectly still as if he were only a figment of my imagination but I knew better. After the moment of identification had passed I jumped up, grabbed Henry by the arm and began to run back to the truck. Henry recognized the threat just as the Horseman spurred his horse into action and sprinted with the speed of the star quarterback that he was. I, having not been blessed with the same long legs as Henry, fell behind. I had out run the horseman before but that was in heavily wooded areas where agility not speed won out. Here in the, for the most part open, park being on horseback defiantly gave you the upper hand. I made a sudden turn around a big oak a speed to the densely wooded hiking paths. Splitting up was the best thing to do. Running in the same direction made Henry and I easy targets. Plus, the horseman would have to choose and that mental process would take a millisecond that would mean escape. Henry being a star sprinter would have the best lead and an easier time of it. Then came the crushing disappointment as I heard the Horseman scrape against the bark of the tree as he wheeled his mount after me. Should've known. At that point I plunged into the relative, I won't say safety because there was none with him right behind me, slowing abilities of the trees. Branches slapped at my face and thorny vines ripped at my clothes as I ran but I dared not slow down. I could hear him crashing through the underbrush after me. I soon reached the edge of the park where stood a rusted chain link fence. I vaulted this with deer like fleetness. Now I was on my uncle's land the underbrush thinned as I began to recognize different land marks. I raced on in the direction of home horse and rider gaining. The trees suddenly lit and the crack of a pistol sounded behind me. The bullet ricocheted off a large boulder in front of me. It startled me so that I tripped over my own feet and fell. With a cry of pain I hit the hard ground. As I tried to scramble up the horseman reined in his horse and successfully backed me against the huge boulder. Even in my fear I glared at him. He dismounted and knelt in front of me with one hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming. With the other he began touch my face in an almost tender manner. In response I bit down on the first hand. He did not even strike me he only ceased to touch my face. After a moment he sort of signed if I would be quiet, I nodded yes. He slowly pulled back his gloved hand. "Hessian?" I asked. He responded to the affirmative. "What do you want?" he didn't respond. "Is it Henry, the boy?" he waved his hand, no. I was almost afraid to ask. "Me?" he straitened his posture. Yes. Oh boy. "Why?" I asked defiantly. His only answer was to pick me up and remount on that demon horse. I made an easy target last time it was not going to happen again. I struggled and elbowed him and tried to fall off, but he restrained me till I was spent and could do nothing more than curse at him.

I could swear beautifully when I had occasion to. I had learned from the little boy who I used to see at the barber's shop. His name was Allen. The Hessian seemed quite surprised as I kept up the stream of insults. I looked around puzzled as we stopped. I had been so busy defacing both sides of his family that I didn't notice where we were going. It turned out to be my front yard, which was a bit surprising since I thought he was going to kill me. He slid me off of the horse and I began to back away. He pulled the stallion high on its back legs then took off at full gallop back into the woods. I was so numb from the whole experience that I just went up to my room and lay in bed but I dared not sleep.