NIGHT OF THE DEAD TREE
In the mornings, the dead tree stood stark against the sky beside the haunted house on the hill. When the sun rose behind it, its silhouette turned black and spidery—especially eerie on foggy days. Rumors whispered that a witch had lived in the house. When she died, the tree’s life faded too, or so the kids believed. One gray, fog-choked morning before Halloween, Billy and JD pedaled past the dead tree, hearts thumping at every creak and shadow.
“It was never alive,” Billy said.
“Says who? How can it be dead if it was never alive?” JD asked.
“The witch made it with black magic. It comes alive if you knock on the door,” Billy said.
“Black magic isn’t real. Someone planted it, and it died,” JD said.
“Fine. Halloween’s tomorrow. I dare you to knock,” Billy said.
“Why would I do that? No one lives there. What’s the point?”
“Bok, bok, bok. Are you a scared little chicken?”
“No. I just don’t see why anyone would bike all the way up there for no reason. No one lives there! No one’s going to answer the door.”
“Scaredy-cat. I double dare you!”
“I’ll go if you do,” JD said.
There was a long pause, and no answer from Billy. No one had ever gone up that long, dark driveway to the haunted house. Never ever!
“Eight o’clock. Bottom of the hill. If you don’t show, everyone will know,” JD said.
JD steered his bike onto his street and pedaled toward home, while Billy paused at the corner, straddling his bike and watching him leave.
“I’ll be there! I’m no scaredy-cat!” Billy shouted.
On Halloween night, the moon shone behind the dead tree as JD biked toward the haunted house. It was chilly and misty. His parents almost didn’t let him go, but he promised to be careful and said he was meeting Billy to trick-or-treat. That was true, if not the whole truth.
As JD approached the hill, he swore he saw something fly around the tree and land on one of the dead branches. His hands were slick with sweat. Doubt gnawed at him; he wasn’t sure about this plan. A memory of his father’s warning echoed in his mind: “Running from fear is the quickest route to more of it.” The advice tugged at him as strongly as the shame of the whole school calling him a scaredy-cat. He swallowed, wishing Billy had decided to run.
But JD was straddling his bike at the bottom of the long, steep driveway leading up to the dark old house.
“We don’t need to go further. We’re both here,” Billy said.
JD paused but wouldn’t back down. He was scared too but determined.
“I’m going up,” JD said. “You can stay here if you’re too scared.”
“Me scared?” Billy said. “I just said that ’cause I figured you’d chicken out.”
“Nuff talk. Let’s go,” JD said.
The driveway was too steep to ride, so they walked their bikes up in the dark, with only the moon for light. At the top of the hill, there was a tall rusty gate. JD pushed it open, the hinges groaning loudly. A stone walkway led to stone steps rising to the old house’s door. The boys stood below the steps, staring up at what looked to them like a giant’s door—a screen door before a huge wooden one.
“Go on. Knock,” Billy said.
“I don’t need to,” JD said.
“You chickening out?” Billy said.
“No. There’s a doorbell.”
JD slowly walked up the steps, pressed the button, and stepped back down.
Then they heard a low growl. It wasn’t the doorbell; it came from behind them. Neither boy wanted to turn around, but they had to.
In the shadows, they barely made out the shape of an enormous panther. Bright eyes stared at them from the bottom of the steps. A terrible certainty gripped them: they were about to be eaten. Every muscle froze. Then the door began to open.
A bright light from inside kept them from seeing clearly what stood in the doorway behind the screen. All they could make out was a tall, shadowy shape. Surely, they thought, this was an angry ogre.
They were trapped—at the bottom of the steps, a hungry panther; behind the screen, an angry ogre.
“Well, well, well. Who has come to visit me on Halloween night?” the ogre shape said.
The boys squeaked out a whisper. “Trick or treat.”
“I don’t have candy, but I have some oatmeal cookies,” the voice said.
Being eaten by a panther or an ogre seemed like their only options.
“Cookies sound good,” JD blurted out.
“Okay, come on in,” the ogre shape said.
The screen door opened, and the panther flew past them into the house. It must be a phantom panther, they thought.
“Here, let me put the porch light on,” the shape said.
Then JD saw what it really was—his third-grade teacher, Mrs. Davidson.
“Mrs. Davidson?” JD said.
“Well, I’ll be. JD and Billy from my third-grade class,” Mrs. Davidson said. “You two are the first kids brave enough to visit this haunted house. Yes, I know all about the rumors.”
“Mrs. Davidson, I thought you lived on a farm,” JD said.
“Why yes, I do. This whole area—including where your school is—used to be my family’s farm. When my parents passed, my husband and I sold most of the land so the homes you live in could be built. That little store down the road? There used to be a peach orchard there. I still have a few fruit trees out back. When I was a kid, my daddy built me a treehouse in that old dead tree next to the house. I don’t have the heart to take it down.”
“Do you live here with your husband?” JD asked.
“Oh no, my husband passed away last year,” Mrs. Davidson said. “It’s just me—and you met Midnight, my cat. Who had the harebrained idea to come to an old house in the dark? You boys could’ve knocked on the door of an axe murderer instead of your old teacher.”
JD and Billy stared at their shoes, cheeks burning, bravado gone.
“It was a dare,” JD mumbled.
“Well, it might seem brave, but it wasn’t smart. Promise me you won’t do anything like this again.”
“Yes, ma’am, we promise,” they said together.
Mrs. Davidson handed each boy, a cookie. “Next Halloween, bring your parents with you before visiting strange places. Adventure’s fine, but there’s safety in good company.” The boys nodded earnestly.
“Good. Now, let’s get those oatmeal cookies and some hot chocolate,” Mrs. Davidson said. “But first, we’re going to call your parents and tell them where you are, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The cat jumped onto the couch and licked his paws. Then he lifted his head, looked at JD and Billy, and said, “So you boys thought I was a phantom panther. Silly boys—I’m just an ordinary house cat.”
Happy Halloween!