Chapter Twenty-Nine:

I Know Who You Are

A dark room became light, the grandfather clock was wound, and all of the things he had turned off, for safety purposes were reactivated. Jack sat in a large armchair in his living room with his chin rested on his palm. At his heel, Zero was attempting in vain to get his attention.

Pumpkin House was very large…and when one was alone it seemed to grow all the more. It never felt empty, however. One could always imagine the memory, the lasting imprint of people who were still lingering behind doors or in pictures, in the strange breezes that came without reason or the shadows, which were so numerous. Jack didn't think that his imagination was the only thing that haunted his grandfather's house.

He was brought out of his thoughts as a low, sweet music began to play somewhere in the room. He blinked and stood. It seemed to come from the drawer of the desk next to the window. The key, which he knew to be taped to the underside of the desk, was inserted into the lock and Jack opened the drawer curiously. Inside, a music box had apparently decided that it had remained silent for far too long. Jack knew the tune…it used to play every day in the month of October, for the entire town to hear. It was his grandmother's favorite. He hadn't known her, but he knew because his grandfather had once told him. One of the few private things he had ever shared when in Jack's company.

Zero let out an abrupt bark, which startled Jack. In his hands the music box fell silent. Jack put it back in the drawer and turned to Zero, who barked again.

"Quiet Zero, we aren't supposed to be here." He said softly. Zero, who was generally loyal barked again and then ran quickly into the kitchen. Jack raised his eyebrow and followed, nudging Zero away from the door, as the small white dock scratched at it excitedly. The tall slender man opened it a crack and peered out.

Standing on the doorstep was the boy he had seen from earlier in the week. He looked as though he were just about to knock. When he saw Jack, he suddenly looked awkward.

"Er…hi…" He said after a long pause.

"I believe I left your stuff on the porch…if you came for the decorations, I'm afraid this is a bad time." Jack said.

"Umm…I don't need them anymore." Gregory replied cautiously.

"Okay…then…if you don't mind…I don't really want company at the moment." He started to close the door on Gregory's suddenly desperate face.

"Wait! I know who you are!" Gregory said quickly. The door paused and then cautiously opened again. Jack gave Gregory a suspicious look.

"What was your name again?" He asked.

"Um…Greg. I moved in a few weeks ago…and I know who you are." He said, in a much more ordinary voice. Still there was a touch of worry in his tone.

"Well then…who am I?" Jack asked, doubt ebbing into his eyes.

"Your Jack Skellinton." Gregory replied. Behind the door, the man's eyes widened, and for the first time Gregory saw a touch of fear in his countenance.

XXX

Jack examined the boy over a cup of coffee. Gregory, who was sitting across from him at his dusty kitchen table was playing absently with his fingers. He had turned down Jack's offer for coffee or tea, for he was partial to neither.

Jack who had been silent for a long time, finally, sat down his coffee cup and with an inquiring look on his face, posed a question to the boy.

"How did you know?"

"The picture…in the Town Hall." Jack's eyebrows wrinkled.

"Picture?" He thought for a moment. It had been years since he had ventured into the Town Hall.

"Of…Hector Skellington." Gregory said, looking slightly uncomfortable. "It's a big portrait…"

"Oh?" Jack responded. Then, when he could not recall such a thing he shook his head. "Grandfather never liked to have his picture taken. He used to have theories that camera's could steal a person's soul. Of course…he was only joking…" He paused here…as though to question himself on whether or not this statement was true. "Still I don't believe he ever smiled for a camera." Jack finished. For a moment his eyes glazed, as he seemed to recall some incident from his childhood.

Jack took another drink of his coffee. He felt uneasy, which was a thing that, although he was familiar with, was generally also kept under generous control. He looked up again at Gregory, as he did, his irises were only visible for a moment, before shadows pulled into the pits of his eyes, making his features somewhat skeletal.

"Does anyone else know?" He asked in a quiet voice. Gregory must have sensed the weight of importance in this question, and so, answered it with caution.

"Yes…" He said slowly, and then finished his sentence hurriedly before the thin man could react. "But only a girl a little older then me and the old man who lives down the street. That's it, I swear."

Jack eyed him with concern. Then, weariness washed over him and he sat back and exhaled steadily.

"An old man? Do you mean Mr. Stiltz?" He asked, now all his words seemed to come out with the heave a sigh.

"Yes."

"And he believes you?" There was a hint of surprise in the man's voice.

"Ye-…actually…I'm not sure. I don't think he has an opinion either way yet." Gregory said, although, at this point he was not yet aware of what had occurred only minutes before between Violet and Brutus.

"Hmm…and the girl?" Jack asked, in deep contemplation.

"Er…Violet…Violet Wayward." Jack nodded.

"And would she be the daughter of Garetty Wayward?"

"Uh…yes…but…he died." Gregory could only assume from Jack's reaction that he had not known this. He seemed confused for a moment, and then gloomy.

"He used to work with my father." Now all of the men who rebuilt this town are gone. This part he did not say, but the words lingered in his mind and in the atmosphere of the room for a few moments.

There was silence…and Gregory took the opportunity to ask his own question…the one, which had sat in his mind for a long time since he guessed that Jack Skellington was alive.

"Uh…Mr. Skellington?" He asked, the title feeling weird on his tongue.

"Just Jack, please." Jack replied, apparently without thought…for he appeared to be in his own world now.

"Alright…Jack, uhh…why are you pretending to be dead? I mean…your suppose to be the owner of the town, right? Do you just…not want it?" He didn't feel like pointing out that if this were the case, it would be much easier to just sell rather then live like a corpse.

Jack stared into his coffee, apparently searching for something that wasn't there.

"I love this town." He said, his mind still elsewhere. Finally, after a few moments he shook his head of cobwebs and stood. "I think it's time that you leave." He said suddenly.

Gregory frowned, but mentally told himself that he had no intention of leaving. He needed to find a weakness…pry at it…anything to get the answer. He had to know…it was…important. He recalled something from the other day, when the house was empty save for him, Violet, Brutus and…

"Is it Jeff?" He asked suddenly. Jack's hand froze as he was in the process of pouring himself another cup of strong black coffee. He set his cup down. "Because, you know…technically…if he doesn't have your permission…what he's doing is illegal." Jack shook his head.

"It doesn't matter." He said morosely. "He has every printed document that would aid in any contradiction. Besides…there are…other things…not of your concern." Gregory felt excitement well up inside him, and for a moment he spoke without thinking in the least what effect it would have.

"He doesn't have everything. I took a bunch of those old papers from his house when I went over there for dinner with my aunt. Brutus has the Will right now." When jack turned towards him he felt like running. His face was a wretched masque of dismay. Now, more then ever, he looked like a corpse.

"You…took…Oh dear." He paused, as a hundred thoughts seemed to hit him all at once. Finally he turned and put, well, nearly slammed his hands, palm first on the table.

"You must give them back!" He said. "Does he know? Does he suspect you?" Gregory, who had subconsciously tried to back up from the tall man while still sitting, remained speechless for a moment, his eyes wide.

"Uh…I don't know if he noticed yet…but if he does…yes…he'd probably suspect me."

"He can't find out! You must return them. Sneak in and put them back if you have to…but you can't keep them and you can't let him find them."

Gregory looked down at the table, then back into the pale and sleepless face of the twenty three year old man.

"Why? What can he do?" He said, obvious defiance in his tone. Jack's face came nearer, and took on the qualities of someone who would probably make a hell of ghost story teller.

"You do not know him like I do. Anything, believe me. He'd do just about anything." He grew tired once more and pulled back, sitting quietly in the seat nearest to him.

"Do you have them at your house?" He asked. Gregory swallowed and shook his head, expecting another outburst. It didn't come.

"Where are they?"

"I gave then to Violet…she probably took them to Brutus…" Jack nodded.

"If she did, then he'll have them…he would want to hold onto them."

"Well," Gregory started. "I can stop by there and ask for them…or can have him bring them to you." Jack sighed.

"That is, if their still there."

"Why wouldn't they be?" Gregory asked, perplexed.

"You said he hadn't made up his mind. I know Brutus. If he believes you…even a little he'll keep them…he'd break a hundred laws to keep them locked away from Jeff. But if he doesn't believe you…he'd return them." Gregory looked surprised.

"He helped me make the plan! Besides, he hates Jeff…I can tell." Jack smiled a little, but it was hallow and sad.

"Yes, I don't think he ever cared for him…as far as I remember." This seemed an odd statement to Gregory, but he let it pass. He had other concerns. "Still, he is a cop…" He stopped and examined Gregory's face. "Was a cop? Well, even in retirement he would have a high respect for the law." Gregory nodded.

"He let me get away with a few things." He said in a low voice. Jack nodded.

"Sometimes…the law isn't on the right side." Jack replied. "You should ask Brutus for the papers back. I don't care what you say…tell him your conscience is bothering you…but you must return them to Jeff. Believe me…it's for the best." He said the last statement as though even he did not truly believe it.

Gregory thought for a moment. He didn't have any intention of handing those papers back to Jeff King…not after all he went through to get them…to figure things out. Finally he came to a conclusion.

"I'll sneak them back into Jeff's house." He said carefully. "But…only on one condition." Jack gave him a slightly irritated look. He knew the beginnings of blackmail when he saw it.

"Oh?" He said with hidden animosity in his voice. "And what's this?"

"That you go to Brutus and ask him for the papers back yourself."

XXX

I know it's been a while and I apologize. I need to finish this story and still intend to completely. I have been rather busy lately…and I'm wretched at holding back on ideas for other stories, so my list of those I must complete has grown ridiculously large. Luckily, two are very near completion (1 and 2 chapters away), and I believe at the most this one only has five chapters left…that is, of course if I don't linger. Special Keys for Special Doors may take longer. Still, I will not give you seven or twenty-nine chapters and then suddenly just stop. No matter what this story will be completed.

I don't know how many of you still read this story. It makes me sad that I didn't update more frequently when I had regular readers awaiting my updates. Still, for those of you who still want to find out what happens, I'm nearly there. I love you all and thank you for all of the reviews and kind words you have given me in the past, and hope that you will forgive me for being so slow lately.