Page 6 of Bewitched By the Headless Horseman
Stevie rummaged through her closet until she located a pair of black jeans and a white and blue polka dot button-up shirt with capped sleeves.
Her phone dinged, and she checked it after fastening the last button of her shirt. Lucia.
Are you sure you don’t want a lift to your parents?
Stevie would normally take the offer, but she needed to catch up on a few things. She messaged Lucia back as she went into the bathroom.No, I’ll be jetting early. I promised Gideon I’d research a few hard-to-find comics for him, and then I’m going to finish up the orders for the apothecary.
Ugh, fine. Sometimes I wish you would take a day off and relax. Orders can always be fulfilled tomorrow.
One day I’ll take a daredevil of a vacation. See you soon.
There was a missed email on her phone from the council, a generic one that she was sure they’d sent to the whole town.For the next month the council will be on watch, and anyone whoisn’t a resident of Sleepy Hollow will not be permitted to enter the town until after the next new moon sets.
The council was run by a trio of older witches who didn’t want to pass the torch of authority to others just yet even though their magic had dwindled the past few years.
Her brother’s engine rumbled to life, and she rolled her eyes. The thing was ridiculous. Big truck, huge wheels. Like three times taller than her. But the lime green color was nice, so she would give him bonus points for that.
Stevie looked in the mirror and quickly ran a hand through her short curly bob, even though her hair would get tangled from the ride. She fluffed her bangs, wishing they were thicker, but they would have to do.
As she finished getting ready, she thought about the night before, the Eye of the Hollow opening. It wouldn’t make a difference to Roxy since she could already see the living, but on the next new moon, for one night, Sleepy Hollow would be a full-blown party where the living and the dead could mingle. In the meantime, the witches would spell Sleepy Hollow to make sure it remained under the radar and no visitors stepped foot past the town’s barrier. The paranormal activities needed to be kept a secret—ghosts wouldn’t create chaos, but outsiders could.
Stevie grabbed her backpack purse from the kitchen counter, and Roxy stayed on her heels as she went to slip on her Converse.
“I take it you’re coming?” She smiled.
The fox trotted past her through the front door which meant a thumbs-up she was tagging along.
Outside, the breeze rustled the trees, their red fall leaves floating to the ground in a ghoulish sort of dance. Roxy sat on the seat of Stevie’s sparkly black moped, anxious for the ride. Stevie laughed while taking out her pumpkin orange helmet from the storage seat. “I do always appreciate your timelymanner.” As she fastened the strap beneath her chin, she added, “You still don’t find it odd that the dead can touch objects, but they can’t feel the living?”
The fox brought her paw to the handle and released a high-pitched bark.
“Touché, my little fox friend.” She sank down on the moped, and Roxy’s body rested through Stevie as her pet attempted to lean against her.
Stevie grinned while leaving the driveway, but it fell slightly when she recalled the Headless Horseman riding down her street just after they’d spotted one another. She expected him not to change his hermit during-the-day life just because the Eye had opened, but she searched for his tall, broad form anyway. No horse or headless caped man in sight. He most likely just wanted to be a cliché murderer of the night and not break that mold.
Speaking of cliché things, Stevie thought as she passed the abandoned house at the end of the neighborhood where she had yet to get an up-close look. Nearly all the yellow paint was gone, revealing white and gray undertones. Shingles were missing from a sagging roof, the foundation making the house crooked. Boards covered the windows, some broken, others with planks nailed across for extra security. Deep cracks ran up the driveway that appeared as if it had been hit by an earthquake. Overgrown weeds, accompanied by dead bushes, decorated the front garden in front of a wide porch. Ever since moving into the duplex, she’d wanted to see what rested inside but hadn’t gotten an opportunity to check it out. Anything worth value was probably long gone. Or maybe something could be hidden… Stamps? Coins? Ghosts could also be trapped there that required her assistance before the living was separated from the dead once more. It was an opportunity she couldn’t refuse.
“How about we finally sneak a peek inside this place when we get back, Roxy?” Stevie glanced down at the fox to find herswatting at a fly in front of her. “I’m going to give the yes box a checkmark then.”
A car drove in front of her, cutting her off. “Watch where you’re going, dirtbag!” Stevie shouted. Not that the idiot could hear her, but it made her feel better.
She curved around two headless—non-Horseman—ghosts stumbling through the streets. Another translucent white form, a young girl in a frilly dress, waved at the cars when they drove by, her other hand holding a few balloons.
Stevie waved, and the girl’s smile grew wide as she bounced on her feet in glee. Even though she wanted to stop and talk to every ghost on the street, she second-guessed that choice since there was a group of maybe twenty. She didn’t need a mob of the dead showing up on her doorstep, demanding she help them, which could lead to the Headless Horseman knowing where she lived.
She drove past another scene, a woman walking down the street while a ghost strolled beside her, attempting to get her attention.Soon.
Her parents’ pristine one-story home slipped into view. A black roof, gray brick, and a long porch wrapped around to the side of the house. The neon orange rocking chairs on the porch, that Stevie had painted to give them some pizzazz last year, shifted back and forth with the wind. As expected, Gideon’s truck was parked in the middle of the driveway and she skirted around it, then stopped in front of the garage beside the Saint Francis statue.
While Stevie put away her helmet, the front door swung open and Roxy darted inside with a loud bark, her way of shouting hello even though the family couldn’t hear her.
“Stevie, baby sister, you finally decided to grace us with your presence. And, unsurprisingly, late,” Gideon called, his teeth flashing. He was a foot taller than her, four years older, and hewore his usual Batman shirt, his beard reaching his collarbones. The only thing that mirrored the siblings were their brown irises and hair color, which her natural one hadn’t been seen in years.
She rolled her eyes and met him on the front porch. “By like two minutes. I was prepping my research foryou.”
“On a cell phone. From home. That’s the dream right there.”
“You mostly work in the back of the comic book store doing accounting things.”
