Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Back to normal, then,” Bram muttered, turning his face away from her.
“Welcome, neighbor!”
A man was approaching from the left. He was white, appeared to be in his sixties, and was wearing shorts and a cowboy hat, a combination that Bram found cartoonish. But he was smiling as he held out his hand to shake, and Bram could never spurn a smile.
“Hey, I’m Bram Larkspur. Nice to meet you.”
He shook the man’s hand with his whittling glove on before he realized it. The gloves felt so much a part of him. But the man didn’t seem to mind any. He looked at the wood in Bram’s other hand.
“That an eagle? No. What’re them things called?”
“A pelican. At least, that’s what it seems like,” Bram said. You didn’t tell the wood what it wanted to be. The wood told you with every whorl and grain.
“That’s right, that’s right. I’m Carl Former, live right there.” He pointed to the house next door on the left. “Been here about fifteen years, so if you need anything you just let me know.”
“Thank you, that’s really kind.”
“You’re not from around here, I don’t think?” Carl asked it as a question, but he was peering at Bram as if trying to parse his not-from-around-here-ness before Bram even answered.
“No. I’m from Washington State. Olympia. I moved to Sundance Junction in the winter to help on a tree farm, but after the season ended I made my way down here.”
That was all true. But like most true things, it could have been said completely differently and been truer. He could have said, I lived in Olympia until my boyfriend and my best friend tore my life and my heart in half, leaving me a broken person who had to get away in order to keep things together.
But although Bram’s siblings liked to tease him about being too open with people, even Bram knew that this neighbor wasn’t the person to share that with.
Besides, he had put it behind him. He was in Garnet Run now and he wasn’t the same person who’d had his heart ripped out, chewed to pieces, and shoved back in his chest to beat sideways as a constant reminder that the people you trusted and loved the most were the ones with the power to destroy you.
Yeah, it was totally behind him.
“Hey, there!” called a woman from across the street. She’d come out to her mailbox and was now crossing to Bram and Carl. “I’m Charlotte Banks, nice to meetcha.” She held out her hand and Bram gave another gloved shake, then took off his gloves and put down his knife. If he was going to be meeting the neighbors, perhaps brandishing a knife wasn’t the best way to do it.
“Was Carl telling you about Halloween?”
“Er, no?”
“Every Halloween, Casper Road holds a contest for who has the best Halloween decorations. The local kids all know about it, so everyone comes here to trick-or-treat. The local news covers it. It’s a lot of fun! And since you’re one of us now...”
Bram smiled. That was a fun idea, and perhaps explained the ghostly Casper Road enthusiasm that he’d seen on people’s mailboxes and address plaques.
“When do you start?”
“Whenever you want,” Carl said. “Mags and I don’t put quite as much into it as we once did. But we’ll still plan our decorations a few weeks before. The Shertslingers at the end of the cul-de-sac go all out. They’ve got three kids who get pretty into it. Michael and Jean really do it up big too.”
“But Zachary Glass...well...”
“Yes, Zachary...”
Carl and Charlotte shared a look and then made the universal face of one performatively choosing not to speak ill of another.
“Zachary Glass?” Bram asked. It sounded like a supervillain name in one of the comics his sister Birch was always reading.
They both pointed at the diagonal house across the street that Bram had contemplated earlier.
As if the weight of their combined stares could conjure solid matter, the door to number 666 Casper Road opened and a man emerged.
He was slender and of medium height, with an olive complexion and thick, curly black hair. He wore a light gray suit, black wingtips, and a light pink shirt and tie even though it was 8:30 on a Saturday morning.
Carl and Charlotte waved at him and the man descended the steps and crossed the street toward them. He had an awkward way of moving, as if he weren’t quite comfortable in his own skin.
“Hello. You just moved in.”
It wasn’t a question, and the man didn’t hold out a hand to shake. In fact he seemed to be inspecting Bram rather than welcoming him.
“Bram Larkspur.”
Bram stuck out a hand, curious what the man would do.
“I’m Zachary Glass.”
Zachary shook his hand, and his grip was firm but not aggressive and he let go quickly, like he was sealing a business deal.