TRICK

Page 1

TRICK
By Brian Freeman
www.bfreemanbooks.com

Trick or treat? Well, not so fast. You're a pretty scary lot, but don't think I'm a newcomer at this. I've played a few tricks myself, and I've had a trick or two played on me. You can bet I'll know what you're planning before you even think of it. Don't look so sad! Here now, wait, I'll tell you a story. You see, you're speaking to a man who's been tricked by the best. I'll let you figure out what it all means, because I've never been quite sure myself. But it was sixty-one years ago, to this very day, and I suppose this is as good a time as any to let a soul or two in on my secret. My brother vanished in an airplane crash back in the seventies or so I believe so no doubt he wouldn't mind my telling the tale. If you're prepared to listen, that is, and if you can manage to keep all this to yourselves. Are we agreed, then? All right, sit down. I grew up on a farm, you see, which is a far cry from this neighborhood. The air's a lot cleaner there, for one thing, and people live a lot farther apart. You also didn't have anything to worry about out in the country. At least, thats what I used to think. Anyway, holidays were nice because you didn't have to work as hard, but it got a bit lonely being off in the middle of nowhere, without any friends to see. Where we were, there was just my brother and me. His name was Luke. He was eight years older than I was and liked to tease me about it, but we spent a lot of time together, because we really didn't have anyone else to do things with. He was always coming up with crazy ideas, which usually ended up in trouble for me. But I went along. There wasn't much else to do. Like the time he wanted to find the biggest pumpkin in the whole county for our Halloween. That was the night I mean to tell you about. It was another of his crazy ideas. Davy, he said to me (it was Halloween night, and we didn't have any place to go trick or treating), Davy, our folks have carved up a real nice pumpkin there, but it just won't do. Not for a real Halloween. Now I thought it did fine, but my opinions weren't exactly the ones that counted here.

TRICK

Page 2

No, Luke says, we need a big pumpkin. I mean an enormous pumpkin. A pumpkin that people will look to in years to come and say, What a fine pumpkin that was! This Halloween deserves nothing less, don't you think? I told him it was great to talk about this so-called fine pumpkin, but where did he plan on getting it? Luke smiled and didn't look concerned. He beckoned me with his finger, and while my parents were back in the kitchen, the two of us crept off down the dirt road that led into the woods. We stayed on that road for a mile or so, and then without warning Luke plunged into the forest, not looking for a trail or saying a word to me. I had no idea where we were going, and Id already lost my way by the time we were twenty feet inside the trees. I couldn't tell if we were heading back to the road, or going north, south, and east all at the same time. Not that it mattered, I suppose. I knew we weren't going home yet, until Luke had found whatever it was he thought we should be finding. Naturally he was right, at least about the pumpkins. We pushed our way forward for another half-mile, and when I was too scared and tired to think anymore, we found ourselves right on the edge of a giant pumpkin patch that made our own little garden look like nothing. Luke was smiling, because he had found it about a month ago and had been waiting for the right moment to spring it on me. I told him he could have done it during the daytime, when the goblins were hiding in their caves, but he replied (kind of wearily) that we could hardly steal ourselves a huge pumpkin with the whole world watching, could we? Besides, if there were any goblins about, they werent likely to creep up to the main house and tell on us. I didn't think that sounded so encouraging. However, I forgot about goblins when we got to looking through the patch, because I saw pumpkins you could have knocked out a horse with huge ones, fine ones, two feet across and more. It was just like Luke said it should be. I had to admit that he was right and that one of these would make us a real Halloween. He just laughed the whole time. It was about the best trick he'd ever played, he said, keeping it secret so long. He rustled my hair with his left hand and said from now on, I'd just have to trust him. I was perfectly happy to choose a pumpkin and go, because any one of those in the field would have done nicely in our kitchen, but that wasn't enough for Luke. If we'd come this far, we should have the best, and that meant the biggest. We spent a good hour rustling through that patch, with me looking over my shoulder every few seconds to see what might be behind us. Luke kept saying I was having fits of imagination, and that I should just keep looking instead of being so scared. As it turned out, though, with all those huge pumpkins sitting on the ground, I didn't bring home a single one. Before we found one that was just right, well, we got sidetracked, and if I thought I was scared before, it wasn't anything. You see, I saw a light.

Page 3

Brian Freeman

Not a big light or a bright light, but a little light, not much bigger than a candle flame, winking back at us from a distant section of the forest. I just about screamed. It was bad enough being out there at night, all by ourselves, but to have this light pop out of nowhere, as if it were staring right at me that pushed me over the edge. I said to Luke that we should just grab a pumpkin and run for it. I was sure that a whole pack of dogs would come get us, with the owner of the pumpkin patch right behind, holding a big shotgun in his hand and saving one shot for each of us. I was already struggling to get a good one in my arms, and I suppose I looked a little ridiculous stumbling toward the forest, picking up and dropping pumpkins. Luke called me back. There was nothing to worry about, he told me, and I shouldn't try running home with mediocre pumpkins. I was struggling with two, each a good couple feet in width, if that gives you an idea of Luke's sense of proportion. Whatever that light is, he said, it isn't the farm house, because I happen to know thats in the other direction. He pointed the opposite way, which was totally dark. So unless it's one of those goblins holding the light, it isn't a pack of dogs, and it isn't anyone trying to arrest us. I stopped running, because he seemed so sure of himself, but when I got back to him, he had a very bad suggestion. Since we don't know what it is, let's go find out. That's what adventurers do. I didn't really care what adventurers do, and I didn't feel particularly adventurous. But that was no matter. Luke started off in the direction of the light, which led into the blackest, thickest part of the forest. I had no choice, so I followed him. As the woods closed around us, and the pumpkin patch disappeared, the worst of my guilt and fear came back. Someone would find us, someone would catch us, and if they were men with shotguns or goblins with fangs, it was bad either way. So I kept close to Luke and wondered how close we had to get to that light before he would consider turning back. Probably pretty close. In fact, we were almost on top of it before I heard Luke gasp, and when I peered out from behind him, I saw that we had stopped at the edge of a clearing. In the center of the clearing was an old hunting cabin. I actually started to feel better about now, because that cabin looked familiar. As I said before, with all the twists and turns that Luke put us through in the forest, I had lost my sense of direction. A real clever boy would have kept his eye on the stars, you say, but there were too many clouds and trees between me and the Big Dipper. Anyway, it didn't matter, because I knew where I was now. That was Harry Parker's cabin, and Harry was no goblin. He wasn't altogether friendly to me, but that may just be because he was very tall and I was very short, and that makes someone seem more ferocious. Luke, who was a couple feet taller than me, got along with Harry just fine. There I was, heaving some real sighs of relief, when I looked up at Luke and saw that his face had gone whiter than any of the ghosts I was afraid of. He was staring at the cabin and at the light flickering inside it, and his eyes were as big and white as a jawbreaker.

TRICK

Page 4

I shook Luke, and said, What's the matter? It's only Harry's cabin. I've been here a hundred times and you've been here a thousand. Well, Luke looked at me like I was a silly fool. Harry's cabin? he said. That's five miles from here! Luke's sense of direction was better than mine, but it sure looked like Harry's cabin to me. Even so, Luke pulled me back into the trees and bent down to whisper in my ear. Don't you know what that is? he asked in a voice so strangled and strange I wasn't sure it was his. Luke looked like he did in church the Sunday before, when the pastor gave his hell and damnation speech. We were like spiders, he told us, dangling on our last strand of web over a huge flaming pit, which was ready to spit upwards and burn our legs; and above the web God stood with a silver sickle waiting to cut us loose for any particular sin. That shook me up, I can tell you, and it did Luke too. He never much believed in the "preacher's curses," as he called them, but I know Luke felt like a spider that day, and I got the feeling, looking at him in the woods, that he was a spider again, watching that big silver sickle and that strand of web, and feeling the heat of the flames. He turned to me, still all white, and hissed, That's a widow's cabin. He said it like I should run away just hearing the words, and I admit it crossed my mind, considering Luke's expression. Whats a widows cabin? I asked. A widow's cabin sucks out your soul! Luke told me. It sends out a light for you and pulls you in. One day there isn't anything in the forest, nothing, not a sign you can see, but then it's there calling you. It knows when you're nearby. You're already under its spell before you can get away. As he spoke, I thought to myself: I'm the victim tonight! So I pulled at Luke's arm and said, Let's go, let's go. Luke didn't move, and he didnt even look at me. Soon you answer it, he kept on, you answer the call because you cant stop yourself. Its like a candy apple you can't live without. You walk right up to the door, and you go inside. There's no point in resisting, because you were already doomed when that light first hit your eyes. Let's go! I half-screamed. I knew I didn't want to go inside that cabin, and I figured they would be coming out to take me any minute. Luke, let's go! Luke acted like I wasnt even there. Once you're inside, it's all dim and dark, and you start changing, he recited to me. Youre like a man being born and getting old and dying all in a flash. You become something else altogether, like a ghost or a goblin. Nobody ever sees you again. All you leave behind is your widow. That's why it's a widow's cabin. Luke laughed, the strangest laugh I had ever heard. Unless for some reason the devil sends you back home to do his bidding, he added.

Page 5

Brian Freeman

Lord help me. I tore at Luke's arm, but I couldn't get him to see me. The light in the cabin got brighter, like it was calling us. I wondered what it would feel like when they took me. Would it hurt? Would I turn into something horrible? I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the devil when he came to get me. In the dark, I grabbed for Luke's arm again, but I couldnt find him. I wound up going around in circles, and finally, when I was dizzy, I had to open my eyes. There was Luke, half-way across the clearing, walking for the cabin door. It was him! The truth shot through me like a bolt of lightning. They were after Luke! I tried to scream, but my throat tightened up, and all that came out was a whistle. I tried to run, but my legs were rooted in the dirt. All I could do was watch, slowly, like a clock was ticking in my head, as Luke went up to that cabin. There was no mistaking it now. The light was brighter, more like a fire than a candle. Luke was so close that it lit up his face. There wasn't anything I could do to stop it. Luke walked straight inside the cabin and disappeared. I was shaking all over, and crying, but everything was frozen. I couldnt move. How could I fight something I couldn't see? So the seconds kept ticking away in a silence that felt like a graveyard when you creep into it after midnight on a dare. In all that quiet, any little noise would make you jump. Then from behind the door I heard an awful moaning, and even though it was highpitched and terrible, I knew it was Luke inside. The suddenness of it broke the spell, and I could move again! I ran for the cabin, but the door was bolted shut when I reached it. Those rickety doors always seemed to rattle in the wind and let the cold air rush through, but this one was solid. I banged on it until my fists hurt. When I shouted Luke's name, it just got louder inside, as if it were trying to drown me out. I got next to the cabin window and pushed myself up onto the tips of my shoes, so I could see inside. There was only one room. The candle was on a little table by the window. Behind it, on the rear wall, a fire roared, in wild shades of red and yellow. Luke was standing next to the fire, his back to me. His legs were spread apart. His arms were over his head, and his fingers reached up and curled back like claws. He seemed to sway back and forth, left and right, up and down. Luke was acting like Luke anymore. Something had come over him, and it made me cold to think about it. I had to rescue him. I knew he could hear me shouting through the window because I could scream pretty loud, but Luke didn't move. I tried pounding on the glass, and I thought the window would break into pieces, but I guess I wasn't as strong as I thought. The noise didn't make any difference at all. The only thing that changed was the fire. It seemed to get redder. The wind kicked up. A blast of frozen air burst through my clothes. As if I weren't chilled enough, all the shivers on my neck and back suddenly got worse. Luke swiveled toward the window toward me with his hands still hanging in the air like hooks. He swiveled, turned, and twisted, until he was staring right at me through the glass.

TRICK

Page 6

Oh, God, I ran. I saw his face for no more than a second before I turned and ran, but the sight of it burned in my head anyway. Everything else was Luke the shirt, the jeans, the shoes but then there was that face, oh that face, like a corpse unburied from the ground, old and sunken and dead, and the only thing that was alive about it were the eyes. Red eyes, flaming, pulling out the color from the fire. Red eyes through the glass, gazing at me not like a brother sees a brother, but like a starved wolf that sees a rabbit with a broken leg. Call it my imagination if you like, but that thing was not my brother and it was going to kill me. Oh, yes, I ran. Every step I thought he was behind me. I didn't look back for a mile, not once. I just stumbled and dove through the trees. They scratched me and tore at me and pulled me back, but I kept going, and it was like hours, running in circles, before I found the road. When I got home and crashed through the door, how could I explain it to my parents? They looked at me like I had lost my mind, and I guess I had. I stammered out the story, start to finish. I was crying, but I didn't leave out a thing, and I waited for them to start panicking, or for my father to get his shotgun and start hunting the thing that had taken over Luke. My mother, she would fall to pieces and hug me close, because now I was the only son she had left. This was all terrifying to me, but I was trying to be strong, for their sake. When I got to the end, I had to tell them about everything I had seen and not leave out how Luke had turned into a demon. Oh, it was awful, and I had to close my eyes not to see the pain this was putting them through. You can imagine my horror when I realized they were laughing. Our family world was falling apart, and all my parents could do was laugh and laugh and laugh until they couldn't breathe. My terror turned to anger pretty quickly, because this was Luke we were talking about, and weren't they upset about what had happened to him? That was when my father, still not speaking very well, explained that it was all a trick. A trick, they said, a mean nasty terrible trick to play, but definitely (and here they started laughing even harder) the best one Luke had come up with yet. A trick! My mother finally pulled me close and told me that it really was Harry Parkers cabin, and Harry was probably in on the joke, and that was just a silly mask Luke had put on to fool me. A trick! Not a widow's cabin, not some ghastly transformation done by the devil. When I said they were wrong that it all happened, just like I told them they just said some soft words and put me to bed. I'd see, they told me. Luke was fine. In the morning, I'd see. Sure enough, the next morning, there was my brother, sitting on the end of my bed and looking at me with those big bright eyes. I screamed my head off, and before you know it, he was laughing so much he could hardly breathe. When I ran downstairs, my parents were laughing, too, like they had never stopped. They said what a great trick it was, and my brother picked up this huge, huge pumpkin in his right hand and started making faces at me. He juggled it up and down in his right hand and tossed it in the air and caught it, and all the while, he laughed and stared right at me. Everybody was having a great time, and I kept looking at him as he smiled and juggled that pumpkin and stared back at me. It was like he was daring me to notice.

Page 7

Brian Freeman

And I did. My parents were too busy laughing to pay any attention, but I saw it all right. That big pumpkin bounced up and down in his right hand, and my brotherhe was left-handed since the day he was born.

Brian Freeman is an award-winning and international bestselling author of psychological suspense novels. His books include IMMORAL, STRIPPED, STALKED, IN THE DARK, THE BURYING PLACE (which was a finalist for Best Novel in the International Thriller Writer Awards), THE BONE HOUSE, and SPILLED BLOOD. Learn more about his books at www.bfreemanbooks.com, www.facebook.com/bfreemanfans, or follow him on Twitter @bfreemanbooks.

2012 BRIAN FREEMAN All rights reserved.