Grandma Bertie warned Gus and Molly of the "Curse". Now they find themselves living a nightmare as they come face-to-face with an ancient evil. Gus and Molly must work together uncovering mysterious clues to discover the shocking truth of an old crime, save their mother, and break. . . the "Curse of the Jack-O-Lantern".
CURSE OF THE JACK-O'-LANTERN
By R. Brian RobbinsAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 R. Brian Robbins
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4490-0774-4Contents
Chapter 1........................................1Chapter 2........................................9Chapter 3........................................15Chapter 4........................................19Chapter 5........................................23Chapter 6........................................25Chapter 7........................................27Chapter 8........................................31Chapter 9........................................35Chapter 10.......................................39Chapter 11.......................................45Chapter 12.......................................49Chapter 13.......................................53Chapter 14.......................................57Chapter 15.......................................63Chapter 16.......................................67Epilogue: Eight months later.....................71
Chapter One
It was another beautiful September day. The leaves were beginning to fall. The sun was shining, warming the cool air as Gus and Molly walked down Jackson Street. "Feels like fall doesn't it?" Gus asked his older sister.
"That's because it is!" Molly snipped matter-of-factly. "Yesterday was the first day of fall."
Gus rolled his eyes, arching his head away from his sister. "Oh boy," he murmured under his breath, thoroughly disgusted. "Sisters," he moaned, shaking his head.
Molly, equally disgusted with her brother's ignorance, thought I learned that when I was in first grade; he probably isn't paying attention in class. Typical for first-grade boys. She was a head taller than her brother with long, brown hair that sparkled with hints of amber in direct sunlight. Gus had dirty blonde hair, which he often used as an excuse for not having to wash his hair during bath time. His reasoning, or lack of reason, always frustrated Molly, as it had now. They didn't speak any more until they finally reached the corner of Jackson and Lantern streets.
Grandma Bertie's house was nestled there at the bottom of Jackson in a wedge between the two streets and the railroad tracks at the back of her property.
She had a lot the size of a football field compared to the concession stand-sized lots of the other homes in the neighborhood. Their mother told them it was compensation for the railroad being so close to the house. The trains didn't bother Grandma Bertie much. She was hard of hearing anyway. Otherwise, she was in excellent shape for her age, or any age, actually. She walked three miles most every day when the weather cooperated.
She had a large yard full of flowers, fruit trees, and her garden of fruits and vegetables of many kinds, all kept in neat, clean rows. She weeded and hoed the rows every day. On Saturdays, she took a truckload full of bagged produce to the Willow Branch town market for sale.
The kids would help her go to the Willow Branch market whenever they could. They loved spending time with their grandma, but they also loved spending the money that she gave them for helping, at their favorite stores in town. Molly always stopped into Brianna's Hallmark for the latest stuffed-animal craze. Gus, on-the-other-hand, would hit Jacque's Sporting Goods and then meet Molly and Grandma Bertie at Toys-N-Things before they all headed home.
Saturdays with Grandma Bertie were usually the only time they got to go to town during the summer months. And summer went much too fast this year. Gus and Molly knew the pumpkin crop meant the last of the market days until spring, and they didn't want to waste a moment at home when they could be at Grandma Bertie's.
Gus and Molly stepped onto the covered porch of Grandma Bertie's old farmhouse. Creeeeeak. The loose boards sounded eerie, sending chills up their backs every time they stepped onto that old porch. "Grandma, we're here!" they yelled in tandem so that she could hear them. But she did not answer.
They opened the screened door. Creeeeeak. "She sure needs some nails and WD-40." Gus said with an uncontrollable body wriggle.
"What's WD-40?" Molly asked.
"I don't know, but Mom says it makes loud things quieter."
"What brought that conversation about?" Molly asked curiously.
Gus stared at his feet for a moment before replying, "Mom said she wished she could use it on me sometimes."
"Oh," Molly said, nodding her head. "That makes sense."
Gus curled his nose and stuck his tongue out at her.
Molly looked at him with excited, wide eyes. "You could get her that for Christmas!"
"Who, Grandma?!" Gus chirped.
"No, Mom, silly!" Molly smiled. "Just kidding."
Gus looked at her with an expressionless face. "Oh boy," he groaned. They walked across the old wooden floor toward the back of the house. The new sliding door was open to the backyard. Molly saw her grandmother and yelled in complete distress, "Grandma!"
Her feet were touching the ground, but Grandma Bertie was slumped over a giant pumpkin. Her silver-and-white hair was in her face even though it was tied back into a ponytail. They ran to her. When they got close, she raised with a fright!
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!" she screamed.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" the children screamed back.
"You kids nearly scared me to death!" Grandma gasped, placing her hand over her heart as she leaned against the massive orange, boulder-like pumpkin.
"We thought you were dead," Gus excitedly squealed.
"Didn't you hear us?" Molly asked.
Grandma Bertie felt her ears. "Oh, nuts! I forgot to put my ears in this mornin'," she said, referring to her hearing aids.
"I was in such a hurry to get the truck loaded so that we could take this prizewinner to Thea's Restaurant when you got here. But I think we're gonna need some help," Bertie explained.
"We can do it, Grandma!" Gus said "All we need is ..." his thought trailed off when he saw how high the back of the truck was, "... is Mr. Grogan's tractor."
Mr. Grogan was Bertie's neighbor who had a landscape business and a big white barn next to his house. He had farmed his two hundred acres for thirty-five years and decided to finally accept an offer on the land that would put what seemed like fifteen hundred homes in his back yard. He took the money and started his business, knowing that many customers were close by and would keep him plenty busy in his "retirement." He had a lot of equipment in his barn, even a tractor with a front-loading scoop, perfect for lifting 250-pound prizewinning pumpkins.
Grandma Bertie had the biggest prizewinning pumpkins and the tastiest desserts for thirteen years running at the Sycamore County Fair. No one could explain it. Each year she would get one giant pumpkin in the garden, and Grandma wasn't about to reveal her secrets. As if she had any. If anyone asked, she'd say, "Must be livin' right."
Mr. Grogan made his way across the road with his scoop tractor. "Bertie, you know that if you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask and I'll be there to help you," Mr. Grogan reminded her for the thousandth time as he loaded the massive pumpkin into to back of her truck with his tractor.
"Yes, yes, well, I wasn't sure you were up and I didn't realize it was so big," she chirped, referring to the pumpkin.
"Bertie, my lights have been on since five this morning," he said, looking over the top of his glasses, which had slipped down to the end of his nose....