Chapter Three: The House In The Fog

The four costume-clad kids made their way to the docks, making it there with just a minute to spare. In the light of the full moon, the water looked dark and foreboding. The lights of the city shown like stars in the background, just barely visible in the fine white mist rolling across the dark lake.

Waiting for them on the pier was Eugene, who was currently dressed up in the same sort-of alien costume that the gang wore on their last ill-fated Halloween adventure the previous year. "Oh wow, great costumes you guys," Eugene said, greeting them with his usual enthusiasm.

"Thanks, Eugene," Arnold said, then looked around. "Where's Curly at?"

"I'm right here," came Curly's voice from behind the snack machine. He stepped out, dressed just like a castaway from a deserted island, with a torn shirt and dirty pants with shredded legs. Underneath his left arm, he carried what looked like a volley ball with a crudely painted face on it.

"Hey Curly," Arnold said, "Wow, great costume."

Curly looked blank, "What costume?"

Gerald raised an eyebrow, "Um, the costume your wearing. You know . . . for Halloween?"

"Oh no! Tonight's Halloween!" Curly looked shocked and turned to the volley ball. "Wilson, why didn't you remind me!" He glared at the ball a moment, and then said, "Hey, don't give me that, your supposed to keep track of things like this!"

Helga sighed and said, "The full moon brings out all the weirdos."

"Tell me about it," Gerald nodded in agreement.

Now Helga turned on Arnold and asked, "So, now that we're here, how the heck are we supposed to get out to Wylie's Wharf genius?"

Suddenly, from out of the darkness came the mechanical sound of a small motor and with it a voice singing over the water:

"Farewell and adieu to ye fair Spanish ladies,
farewell and adieu, dear ladies of Spain!
For we've received orders to sail back to Boston,
and so nevermore shall we see ye again!"

A shape slowly came out of the ghostly fog and into focus. It was a small motor boat being driven by a man wearing a yellow sailor's raincoat and hat. He had a grey beard and wild eyes.

"That's how we're going to get there. Sheena's Uncle Earl will take us all out there," Arnold explained and walked over to the end of the pier. "Excuse me, mister," Arnold called out.

"That's 'Captain Earl' to ye matie, argh," Earl said to him, looking at him with those wild eyes.

"Um, right, er, Captain Earl," Arnold said, looking at bit uncomfortable. "Can you take all of us out to Wylie's Wharf?"

The old man looked over at him and said, "Wylie's Wharf eh? You'd be willing to take on the unholy spirit of Old Man Wylie then?" He looked them up and down, then shook his head. "Argh, crazy kids, never learn nuthin."

"What are you talking about, man?" Gerald asked him.

"Lots of really strange things have been known to go on around Wylie's Wharf on Halloween night, mate. Mysterious lights in the fog; strange sounds, like the wailing of lost souls." He looked at them, and in the light of the moon and street light by the pier, he looked slightly deranged. "There are things out on that side of the lake that never sleep, me buckos. If I were ye, I would turn around and go home now."

Helga snorted, "Well, we're not 'ye' and we will take our chances, so enough with the ghost stories and tell us how much it'll cost us to go out there for an hour or so?"

Earl sighed, "Argh, so be it. It'll cost ye a dollar."

Arnold blinked, "Wait a minute, all those other times you took me out to Elk Island it only cost fifty cents."

"Price is doubled for the danger, lad. I'll not be risking me neck for a mere fifty cents," he told Arnold. "That's me final offer, take it, or leave it."

Gerald sighed, "Oh well, we tried Arnold. Better go home and eat our Halloween candy." He turned to go. Phoebe tried to follow, adding, "I quite concur with Gerald, so if you'll excuse me, Helga –"

"Hey, you two come back here!" Helga said, frowning and scowling. "Nobody is chickening out now, you got it?" Both of them halted and turned, looking less than enthused.

Arnold sighed and pulled out some money. A moment later, all of them did the same and piled into the small boat. It smelled like fish and live bait. After putting on the life jackets that Earl gave them, they took their seats. Arnold sat up front, so he could look out at what was ahead of them. Helga sat next to Arnold on the port side (the right side) with Eugene (who tripped over some rope climbing into the boat) and Curly (holding Wilson in his lap) next to her. Across from them on Arnold's other side, was Gerald, who sat with Phoebe close to him. They both held hands, out of reassurance and comfort.

"Everyone ready?" Earl asked.

"Aye, aye, Captain," Eugene said, enthusiastically and saluting. Helga rolled her eyes and muttered, "Criminy."

With that, Earl started the loud motor, and the small boat began its journey towards the foggy part of city lake. The boat moved somewhat slowly over the dark water, the smell of the water itself, mixed with the cold, autumn air, added to the creepy effect. The moonlight, broken now only by the presence of several clouds overhead, made everything look eerie.

The mood was suddenly broken by Captain Earl's singing:

"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest,
yo ho ho, and a bottle of root beer –"

"Hey man, isn't it supposed to be 'a bottle of rum'?" Gerald asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"There be no drinking aboard me ship, matie," Earl said, looking at him. Then he smiled and said, "Fine, I'll sing something else. I know a song ye kids might like." He cleared his throat and began:

"Ohhhhhhhh, who lives in the pineapple under the sea –"

"Oh, put a sock in it, Quint!" Helga said, clearly annoyed. All off the other kids muttered in agreement, except for Eugene, who blinked and smiled knowing the tune.

"Argh," muttered Earl under his breath.

As they approached the Great Northern Railroad trestle, a train roared by overhead. The train's whistle reminded Arnold of the time that he, Gerald, and Helga all went in search of the haunted train his grandpa told him about last year.

Once they passed by the trestle, a thick, cold fog enveloped them. On this side of the trestle there were no city lights to go by. This part of the lake was set in the wooded area next to the city. The only light to go by was the overhead moonlight, which fought against the white fog to give them a small amount of visibility.

Next to Gerald, Phoebe trembled, both from the cold and from fear. Her rational, logical mind told her that fog was nothing to be afraid of, and that ghosts and other supernatural entities were not scientifically proven, nor disproved. Yet, that did not stop her from snuggling up close to Gerald, who looked over at her and put his arm around her. She smiled at the small warmth that he provided and the slightly irrational feeling of protection she felt snuggled up against him, as if he were a security blanket.

Helga glanced across at Phoebe and Gerald, and frowned slightly. Then she turned to look at Arnold, who sat facing the front of the boat, looking out over the fog for the first sign of their destination. She allowed a small smile at the way the wind blew his golden hair around his face, yet somehow his small, blue cap stayed firmly in place. She glanced at his dreamy green eyes, now alert and focused underneath his Zorro mask, and then down to his thin, pink lips, and she felt her heart beating faster.

Arnold felt he was being watched all of a sudden, then blinked, turning his head to glance over at Helga. For a moment, he saw her smiling, and her blue eyes looked unfocused and dreamy for an instant. Then she blinked, and scowled at him and crossed her arms looking away.

Arnold sighed and looked back out over the water. Then, for some reason, he glanced out of the corner of his vision at Helga once more. She'd shifted her body to face his way and look out over the water, her eyes were thoughtful and her blonde pigtails and pink ribbon, waved in the wind . Her blonde hair shined bright in the moonlight. Arnold felt himself smile all of a sudden, thinking how he'd never seen Helga look so . . . interesting.

From behind them, Eugene was humming the annoying tune that Earl tried to sing last, and putting on his annoying happy face.

Helga frowned then glanced over at Arnold, who she saw also looked slightly annoyed. She smirked, "Criminy, I feel like tossing him overboard." To her amazement, Arnold only smiled and shrugged. They had eye contact then, and for some reason, didn't feel like looking away.

"There it is! I see it!" Curly shouted out. "There it is, Wilson, Wylie's Wharf!" He held up the volley ball, face out so it could "see" their destination. The momentary spell between Arnold and Helga was broken, and they blinked and looked out over the dark water, as did the others.

The fog slowly parted to show them a small, somewhat bare island, that looked like the top of a small hill rising out of the water. On top of this hill was a two story house, with a small, pointed tower on one side and a large porch. The house itself was old, rundown, and falling apart. The only two trees on the island near the house, were bare and rotting. They resembled dark skeletal hands sticking up out of the ground. Dead weeds stuck up all around the island. The moon shined just over the top of the house.

The house gave all of them the creeps. Phoebe and Gerald held each other more closely, and Curly held onto Wilson tightly.

Earl's boat made it's way to a small rotting pier at the tip of the small island. Nailed to it was a weathered sign with words written in peeling white paint that read: DANGER! CONDEMNED PROPERTY! DO NOT ENTER!

The boat pulled up to the edge of the land and Earl told them, "I'll be back for ye in one hour. Argh."

"Thank you, sir," Arnold said, climbing out and offering Helga a hand, which she took willingly at first, then quickly let go of frowning once she was out of the boat, but secretly enjoying the contact. Gerald did the same for Phoebe, who smiled bashfully. Curly jumped out and said, "Well Wilson, here we are." Eugene tripped over one of the boat lines and fell on his face into the dirt, then muttered, "I'm okay."

Earl turned the boat back into the lake and called out, "Good luck to ye, and watch out for the ghost of Old Man Wylie!" He waved to them before both him and his boat were swallowed up by the fog. Even his engine was silent after a moment.

They were now on their own . . . or at least, they thought so.

To Be Continued . . .

Don't worry, another chapter will be ready soon. I can only hope to have this fic finished by Halloween. Wish me luck! Oh yeah, I also felt like tossing Eugene overboard when I wrote that part too, LOL! "Death to Spongebob! Hey Arnold! Forever!"
Oh yeah, Jae B, you were right about the killer's description. I Know What You Did Last Summer was the inspiration! Give yourself 10 bonus points! Keep up the good work!
More Coming Soon! Stay Tuned! -D.R.