Chapter Twenty-Six:

Edward Gets Involved

He had memorized which floorboards creaked, so that when he walked about in the night, he would not awaken anyone in the house. On this night, it didn't matter. He heard voices at the bottom of the stairs. His descent was so silent it seemed that even the ancient wood slept under his light footfalls. It was a talent.

When he got halfway down the staircase he saw shadows on the rose wallpaper. He lowered himself quietly to the floor and leaned against the banister. The conversation taking place below drifted up to where he was hidden in the shadows of the night.

"You said he's been sick?" Came the voice of a stranger in a suit. He brushed his whiskered cheek nervously under the sharp gaze of the man in front of him.

"Yes. He's been very ill. We were certain that he was dying…he…has just recently shown signs of improvement." The thin man was resting his hand on his cheek. His red hair fell lightly in his face, which housed eyes capable of cutting into people like a knife, or so it seemed. The elder gentlemen in a suit appeared to be growing uncomfortable under that gaze.

"Well…if he is indeed improving, then, do you really think this is a wise step to take?" The man asked.

The young man raised his head.

"You've never spoken to him. My wife has grown…very uneasy. She's currently staying with her mother until I can straighten this out. He's…disturbed. He has frightened us. I'm afraid it runs in the family…my father was much the same way."

The older gentleman watched those sharp eyes for a long moment before speaking. He was aware of a prickling sensation on the back of his neck.

"Well…the boy is thirteen years old, isn't he? He lost his father and mother…and as you have said he has been terribly ill. It's only natural that he should be showing some unusual behavior. I'm not sure If I should be admitting him to my facility under these…unfortunate circumstances. I'm sorry, Mr. Skellington."

The young man sat back for a moment, seemingly in thought.

"I understand. It's just…my wife…I understand that he's my nephew…but I have to respect her wishes too. And if he has inherited my father's…eccentricities, I do not wish for him to be around my family. It's not an atmosphere I desire to raise children in…I mean…I've seen how it all goes." The older man nodded sympathetically.

"Yes. Of course." The man sighed and peered towards the window. "Perhaps…I could speak to the child? Then maybe I could make a personal diagnosis and if I think that he is eligible to be admitted, I will leave you my number and we can work something out." He couldn't help but notice that the man brightened up considerably as he stood and motioned towards the stairs.

"That's just fine. His room is upstairs, third door to the left."

The man in the suit stood and looked towards the stairway uncertainly.

"I won't wake him will I?" He asked as he approached the banister.

"I doubt it. He suffers from sleeplessness. He hasn't dozed much at all this week. Also, hereditary I'm afraid."

The man nodded and walked slowly up the stairs. For a moment, he was sure that he had seen movement, but he dismissed it.

Moments later, their came a soft knock on the boy's door. His gaze left the window and traveled towards the noise. The door opened a little and the stranger inched inward, ready to back out if he saw the child was indeed asleep.

"Hello? Jack is it? Are you awake?" He jumped when he found the boy sitting up in his covers, watching him. When he regained his composure he walked the rest way in and shut the door behind him.

"Young man? Your uncle has sent me up to talk to you. He's very concerned about your behavior. He thinks you might be sick." He grinned in a way that the boy assumed was meant to friendly and pulled up a chair. He tried to look at ease, but kept his distance. When the boy didn't speak, the man's smile broadened as he continued to talk to the young man as though he were half his age…or very unstable.

"He said that you have been kept in your bed for illness lately…but you look well. Are you feeling better?" The boy lowered his eyes. He still wasn't speaking. The man cleared his throat.

"Listen, Jack. I know your mother and father have…just recently passed away, but it's important to try and get over these things…take them in steps. If you don't, your mind can become unhealthy…it can become con…"

"He pretends I'm crazy because he's upset that I didn't die." Jack interrupted suddenly. The man laughed a little nervously.

"Now, I'm sure that isn't the case. Your uncle cares about you…he just…thinks you need to be in a place with people who can help you." Jack sighed and looked a way from the man, directing his gaze towards the large window by his bed once more. To the older man, he looked, for a moment, very old.

"She really does think I'm crazy. She got nervous when I spoke of the voices and the dreams."

If the thoughts of the man could have been heard out loud, they would have gone something like this.

'Ahh…now here we go. Some of them can appear so normal until they start talking about the voices and hallucinations.' He became a bit more cheerful. He knew how to deal with mad people. He was around them all the time.

"Your aunt? Tell me about the voices Jack." When the boy looked at him again his eyes were shaded unnaturally, he looked a little angry…the man shivered.

"You…could not possibly understand. Anything I tell you will simply be mistaken for madness. You've never lived in Pumpkin Town…you've never heard the voices. I'm alive because I know that if I die the town will die with me…and I won't let it happen!" The boy moved, and for a moment all the man could see were the dark eyes of a thirteen-year-old boy who was very tired, very lonely, and very (And this was what scared him.) very sane. When the boy laid back and the shadows overcame his face again the man stood sadly.

"I see. Well, it was nice talking to you…I'm sorry for your loss." He was aware that he has ceased to talk to the boy as though he were actually insane, and let it go. As he headed towards the door a quiet voice called after him.

"He pretends…he's not what he seems." It seemed the boy was half asleep and so, the man dismissed this.

As he headed down the stair, he nodded to Alex, who was watching him expectantly.

"Did you get what you needed, sir?" The man asked. The sharp gaze was back, looking ever more sharp after being caught in the malleable gaze of the weary child.

"Well…I spoke to him…and personally…I don't think an insane asylum is what this child needs." He took his coat and pulled it over his shoulders. When he looked up, the gaze of the man in front of him was that of disbelief.

"Is that so?" The man said…almost disconcertingly.

"Yes." The man responded, trying to hold his gaze with that of Alexander's.

"And what…pray tell…do you think he needs?" He asked, while leaning on the table.

"His family, Mr. Skellington. A little counseling, perhaps. But mostly, I think he needs a little compassion from his only living relative…he has some funny ideas about you Mr. Skellington."

Alex cleared his throat.

"I have tried everything my patience will allow. This is my only remaining option. Will you admit him or not?" There was acid in his voice.

The older man sighed and pulled a card from his jacket.

"You may speak to someone in my building about it…if you must." He replaced a hat upon his head and started to head out into the night, before Alex closed the door on him, he turned.

"Oh…and I'm so sorry for your loss, sir." Alex appeared to be in thought. The older man's words brought him out.

"My loss?" He asked, with his eyebrow raised. The man cleared his throat.

"Your brother sir…and sister in law…"

"Oh…yes…yes…course. Thank you." He didn't sound too terribly broken up about it…but the man figured, as he walked to his car, there were many sorts of people in the world. Including those less compassionate sort.


Brutus was sitting at the table, half asleep when his doorbell rang. He stood and went to his front door, grumbling lightly to himself as he did.

After opening it, he resisted the urge to slam it shut again and fasten all of the locks on the side. He frowned.

Violet was standing on his doorstep with her arms crossed. Behind her, Edward was looking around in a petulant manner. It was obvious he would rather be somewhere else, doing something more destructive.

"No." Brutus said after a moment. He was pointing at Edward, but looking at Violet. For a moment, Edward looked slightly offended.

"I can deal with you…mostly…and I can deal with Mr. Garret, but I will not let him set foot in this house!"

"Hey!" Edward said bitterly. "What did I ever do to you?"

For a moment Brutus looked at him in disbelief.

"Last year you set my car on fire!" Brutus hollered while pointing a finger towards the boy.

Edward, who appeared to be trying to hold back laughter (Or rather, was laughing, but couldn't after getting a sharp jab from Violet in the stomach.) responded after finally catching his breath.

"Hey, that was an accident, I was just trying to empty the gasoline. At least you weren't IN the car at the time." He argued. Brutus' eyes narrowed.

"The engine exploded! Part of the hood went through my upstairs window, scared the crap out of me!" He said, pointing wildly at a half boarded window on the top floor of his house. "You are NOT setting foot my house."

He turned his angry gaze towards Violet who was fishing something out of her backpack.

"Violet, where the hell is Gregory? I thought you guys were going to drop by after he got out of school." He looked at Edward with distaste.

Edward, who had been making faces at him while his attention was elsewhere, snapped out of childish behavior and looked at Violet quickly, who had found the papers, but still appeared to be VERY interesting in something else. Far too interested to meet his gaze.

"Gregory?" He asked, a little guardedly. Violet handed the papers over to Brutus, while purposefully ignoring her brother.

"Doesn't matter anymore. Here are the papers." She said quickly. Brutus looked down at them in curiosity and took them from her.

"Did he find…?"

"Everything's there. I checked. Even got the map…but Jeff wrote all over it so you can barely read some of it."

Brutus gazed at the large map distastefully.

"What I wouldn't give to punch that guy in the nose." He said, mostly to himself. Edward's cautious look turned to that of mild irritation. He looked back and forth between Brutus and Violet. Neither of them were paying any attention to him. For a moment he felt the urge to grab his sister by the shoulders and hit her hard across the face just to knock some sense back into her.

Brutus sighed and opened the door a little wider.

"I guess you should come in…but YOU, you keep your hands where I can see them." He pointed at Edward. "And I swear Violet if you or your brother do anything while your in my house I will personally provide your mother with a reason to send you away…and the name of a place that will HAVE to take you." He turned his back on both children and stepped into the house. Both kids made faces towards his back almost in unison.

Violet started to head in but was halted when Edward grabbed her roughly by the back of her collar.

"Hold on, Shock." He said bitterly. She shook him off angrily and gave him an irritated look.

"Why are we here? We have all of that stuff on Jeff…why don't we use it for our OWN purposes…you know…blackmail and stuff." Violet's eyes narrowed.

"Because, Maybe if we do things differently this time…we can get rid of him for good." She replied. She turned and started to head for the door again.

"Well what fun is giving all of that stuff to a retired Police man?" Yelled in frustration while walking around her and cutting her off at the entrance.

"And why are hanging around Gregory Garret?" He added, while pointing an accusing finger at her. "I thought we both though he was a loser…" Something like horror crossed his face as a thought occurred. "You don't actually…LIKE Gregory do you?" He asked, sounding as though he were trying to confirm or deny something absolutely dreadful.

Violet slapped his accusing finger out of her face heatedly and shoved him out of the way of the door.

"Shut up Edward! If you think I'm going to hang around YOU all of the time, then your even more stupid then you look." She pushed past him, finally entering the house.

Edward looked after her in surprised fury. He had been sure, absolutely SURE that she would have denied liking anyone like Gregory Garret. He kicked at something hard in his vehemence. It turned out to be Brutus' wicker chair…a couple of the straps snapped after…and the whole thing fell backwards and knocked into a flowerpot (Probably left over from when the man had been married…Brutus himself didn't seem like much of a floral man.), which tipped over and broke. Edward didn't seem to care too much.

"I swear Gregory, the next time I see you…" He said through his teeth. He then followed after his sister, swiping a pocketknife from one of Brutus' end tables as he did.

To Mistress Of Nightmares: Thanx alot for all of the reviews. I appreciate them. : )