Page 7 of Shelter
We went on like this, me giving up all the dark chocolate options in my bag — except for one each now that curiosity had bitten me — and Cole trading in all the milk chocolate goodness he was so foolish to part with.
By the time we’d finished, Ava had grown impatient. “What time is it? I still want to go to a few more houses before we have to get back.”
Standing up from the curb, Cole checked his wristwatch. “It’s seven-thirty. We still have thirty minutes before Flora comes back for Elise.”
Ava shot to her feet and pulled me with her. “C’mon! Let’s go. We still haven’t been to any of the houses on Azalea Street.”
Even under the light of the streetlamps, I could see Cole’s eyes roll skyward. “Your feet will start hurting again in five minutes. We should go up on Parkside so we’re at least heading back in the right direction,” he said, pointing north.
“But at the blue house at the end of Azalea, they give away homemade Rice Krispy treats,” Ava whined. “We always get those.”
I liked the sound of that, so I cast my vote, even if I didn’t get a vote. “I want Rice Krispy treats, too,” I said, stepping closer to Ava.
Cole heaved a sigh. “Fine. But let me at least get a head start so we’re not walking together.” He set off at a run without another word, but Ava yelled at his retreating back.
“Oh, so you can sit here with us and swap candy, but we’re not good enough to be seen walking down the street with you. Is that it?” she hollered.
“That’s it,” he yelled back without turning around, and soon the night’s shadows had swallowed him up.
“Good riddance,” I muttered.
Ava sighed. “I know he’s mean sometimes, but he’s nice a lot of other times,” she said softly. “I wish he’d stay with us.”
I didn’t let Ava know that I thought Cole was about as nice as a kicked wasp nest. Instead, I looped my arm through hers. “C’mon. Let’s go get some Rice Krispy treats.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later,Rice Krispy treated, I trudged back up Azalea Street practically dragging Ava behind me. The house at the end of Azalea had truly been at the very end, on the corner of University Avenue, a busy four-lane road. Along the opposite side of Azalea Street sat City Hall and the offices for Lafayette Utilities — where I went with Mama sometimes to pay our electric bill — but across the street on the University Avenue side was St. John Cemetery.
It was Halloween. It was dark. And even though Ava was with me, and I could see other kids trick-or-treating at the end of the road in the direction we were heading, I did not want to be that close to the cemetery.
“C’mon,” I hissed, casting a backward glance over my shoulder at the spiked wrought iron cemetery fence. I couldn’t help but wonder, was the tall boundary to keep the living out or the dead in? I gripped Ava by the elbow, tugging her to make her match my hurried pace. “It’s getting late.”
“Ow! Elise, you’re hurting my arm,” she protested, wrenching her elbow from my grip. “And my feet are killing me.”
The kids up the street ahead of us turned the corner, leaving us alone on the long stretch of road. I looked back, imagining that I’d see skeletons in tattered clothes climbing clumsily over the black fence. I could taste my heartbeat in the back of my throat. It certainly was going a lot faster than theclick-clackof Ava’s plastic shoes.
The cemetery fence was free of ghouls, and a car turned onto the street from University Avenue. I let go a sigh of relief. If there was a car, the zombies and ghosts wouldn’t bother with us. That’s how it worked onScooby Doo,anyway. I brought my eyes back to the end of the road, wondering how far we could get before the car passed us and left us unprotected again.
Seconds later, I looked back over my shoulder into bright headlights. The car had slowed, probably to be careful around us kids. It was a boxy car that looked either yellow or beige in the light of the street lamps. I expected it to move past us and continue on up the road, but when the car came alongside us, the brakes let out a high-pitched squeak, and the passenger side window hummed down.
“You girls all alone out here?” A man’s voice called from within the cab, and at the scratchy sound of it, I immediately forgot all about zombies and skeletons.
I grabbed Ava’s elbow again, this time more gently so she wouldn’t pull away. “C’mon,” I hissed on a whisper. My eyes pierced the dark interior of the car to see a man who looked older than Mama, wearing an Astros baseball cap and a mustache that looked like a feather duster.
“No, sir,” Ava said to my horror.
My whole life, Mama told me never to talk to strangers in a car, never approach a stranger in a car, and never to accept anything from a stranger in a car. And if that stranger was a man, I needed to get out of there as fast as I could. Clearly, Mrs. Whitehurst had never had the same talk with Ava because she kept gabbing. “We’re not alone. My brother is around here somewhere, and I just live on Myrtle,” she said pointing to her right.
“Ava!” I rasped. Not only was she still talking to him, she’d told him where she lived!
“Well, why don’t y’all get in, and I’ll help you look for him,” the man said, smiling his mustachioed smile at Ava. “Y’all shouldn’t be out here by yourselves in the dark.”
I frowned. He was right about that, but Mama had warned me that bad strangers might try to trick me into going somewhere with them or getting into their cars. He wasn’t my Mama or my teacher or the principal so I didn’t have to listen to him.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “We’re not allowed to ride with strangers.”
The driver’s smile grew. “Aw, I’m not a stranger. My name’s Charlie, and I live right across St. Mary on Souvenir Gate.”
