Page 1 of The Neighborhood Witch

Samhain

A Time of Remembrance

Chapter 1

Saturday Mourning

Athick blanket of light and dark gray clouds hung oppressively low in the October sky. The air was crisp. A slight breeze bustled the dried and decaying leaves in a whirlwind as they moved across the dust covered trail of wilderness on the outskirts of Newbury Grove. Those leaves that had yet to fall painted a tapestry of rich orange, yellow, and red amongst the trees of Wildgrove Park.

The less fortunate trees, those now completely barren, stood as a reminder to those who lost everything. Their bare limbs stretched into the sky for a respite from the loss of foliage. They stood waiting for happier times.

A golden retriever enthusiastically pulled Hugo Dodds as they rounded a trail corner winding through the park. The dog pulled and yanked Hugo as she hurried to a new spot on the trail. She stopped and lingered to take in smells. She quickly marked the ground as her territory. Her nose twinged, and she focused on a new target. Hugo knew what was to follow. She took off at a quickened pace.

“Slow down,” said Hugo, but the command went ignored. “Max, stop.”

The dog got lower to the ground. Her upper body strength now overpowered Hugo as he tried to pull back on the leash. The resistance only fueled her desire. She was like a sled dog, determined to pull her passenger forward to the next destination.

Hugo stumbled over a rut in the trail. He relinquished his grip on the leash before being pulled to the ground. Now free, Max ran toward her new target. She rubbed her nose against the dirt to get the new smell.

Hugo collected himself and pointed to the ground next to him. “Maxine, come here now!”

Maxine pulled her nose away from the alluring odors. Her head was low, ears pulled back, and she dragged the leash behind her as Max returned to Hugo. She circled around Hugo’s legs before sitting down next to him. She glanced up, tail wagging in the dirt, wide-eyed as if to beg for forgiveness.

“Good girl,” Hugo assured her as he rubbed her head. He gripped lower on the leash, closer to Max’s collar, and wrapped it around his hand to give him more leverage. “Now. Easy walk.”

They continued down the path at a steady pace. Max hesitated for a moment to look at the spot of her mysterious smell, but continued forward next to Hugo.

The nature trail morphed into civilized concrete as Hugo and Maxine emerged from Wildgrove Park. They turned down the sidewalk toward the center of town. A white, wooden semi-circle sign with green lettering in the center median of the street greeted them.Welcome to Newbury Grove, Est 1892. On a small rectangular sign beneath was the town motto,Welcome to the Neighborhood. Hugo gave a passing glance to it and continued on.

Guarding the entrance to the town center was a stone cathedral with brightly colored stained glass windows. Streaks of white and grime weathered the gray stones of the facade. Hugo paused. His eyes drifted up the stone steps to the two large wooden doors of St. Jude Church, where he married Elizabeth—and where he buried her six months ago.

“Are you ready?”Oliver asked in a low, hushed tone.

“As ready as I’m going to be, I guess,” Hugo replied.

Hugo had sequestered himself in a church storage room, not yet ready to grasp his new reality. He focused on his hand movements in a mirror. Hugo tugged and pulled at his necktie, undoing the knot and ripping the tail of the tie back through. He repeated the choreographed dance once again, not stopping until the tie and knot were the correct length.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Hugo replied, never looking away from the mirror. His gaze was unrelenting. Focused. “I’m fine.” He gave the tie a few more tugs out of frustration. Tears welled in his bloodshot eyes, and his nostrils flared.

“Take your time.” He patted Hugo on the shoulder and exited the room.

Hugo was now alone. A tear rolled down his cheek. He ripped the mirror off the wall, smashing it into a hundred little pieces, and threw what was left across the small storage room. Hugo picked up a heavy-duty plastic classroom chair and flung it at the window. The window glass splintered as the plastic and metal smashed against it. The block cement wall prevented the window from completely shattering as it caught most of the chair’s blow. Hugo’s nose snarled. His fists clenched. He hunched over and let out a soul splitting, agonizing, barbaric yawp.

There was a knock on the door.

“Hugo, it’s time,” the priest’s voice entered the room.

Hugo snapped back into focus. His heart raced with adrenaline. His breath labored between rapid and short bursts. He glared into the mirror. His hands were still fiddling with his tie. It was all a dream. His outburst. Just a dream. A not so wondrous dream for his new nightmare.

Hugo wiped away the tears and brushed wayward strands of hairback into place. He checked on the plastic chair next to him to make sure it was still there. His eyes snapped to the splinterless window. His labored breathing relaxed.

Hugo took a deep breath and said, “I’m ready.”

Hugo jerked backto reality as Max tugged on her leash. A rush of dizziness overcame Hugo before he caught his bearings.

“Yeah. Yeah. We’re going,” Hugo assured the dog.

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