Chapter Three:

A Little Jell-o for Your Hello

Iolyn was unusually quiet at the dinner table, Phoebe noticed. It was very odd, but not unwelcome. He was always complaining about one thing or another. It was no wonder he had such a hard time getting a girlfriend back at home.

Home.

She missed it, despite her display of enthusiasm for Kalamazoo. She doubted she would ever truly consider Kalamazoo her home, not when all her friends were back in Chamberlayne. She missed summer nights spent out by the lake, where she and Christopher Blake kissed under the docks even though their parents did not approve of a good Jewish girl like her dating a nice Christian boy like him. It didn't matter to her. Boys were meant to be kissed, and Christopher Blake was a very cute boy. Besides, she was barely practicing her Jewish beliefs and she was a teenager at that, so what did it matter if he was a Christian? People got too bent out of shape for the stupidest reasons in the world. Except for the whole Jesus thing, Christianity and Judaism were very similar anyways. Ha, Christianity was like Judaism's rebelling teenage child, in a way. Oo... was that sacrilegious? My bad.

Ah, let her have a little fun in the summer, she figured, and she'll be the good, clever Jewish girl for the school year. It all evened out.

She was lost in these thoughts when she was startled out of her seat by a sudden knock at the door. She giggled sheepishly when her parents and Iolyn gave her questioning looks- Phoebe wasn't usually this skittish- when she said, "Um, I'll get it." She hurried to the door where a boy around fourteen or fifteen was waiting with what looked like some freshly made gelatin.

"There's always room for Jell-o in a 'Hello'!" greeted the boy, presenting the gelatin, which wiggled around under the plastic wrap. She couldn't tell what color it was because the wrap was tinted red. As Phoebe took it, she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the boy's greeting. The boy grinned. "Yeah, um, that was bad. But I was waiting and it just popped in my head. Sorry. Um... I'm Micah." He held out his hand, which Phoebe eyed for a moment before shaking it like it was infected with a deadly virus.

"Phoebe." Her voice was sharp and patronizing. "So is this a 'welcome to the neighborhood' gift?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

Micah nodded, undeterred by Phoebe's coldness. "From my family to yours." He looked behind Phoebe and suddenly saw that he had walked in while they were having dinner. "Oh shoot. You're having dinner, aren't you?" He looked even more sheepish.

"Yeah, kinda." Phoebe looked back, very aware of how all eyes were on her. It was definitely in her top ten embarrassing family moments. She cleared her throat and brushed a larger chunk of dark brown hair behind her ear- and she did notice how Micah's eyes followed her actions. "Um, but if you wanted, we could hang out later. If it was OK." She looked back at her parents, who nodded their assent.

"That'd be cool," said Micah, looking very surprised. He smiled broadly. "I'll come over around seven. That fine with you?"

Phoebe shrugged. "Yeah, sure. That's fine." She had a gift for this, she fancied. Maybe that made her a little dangerous- ha, her best friend Jackie said it, not her- but she couldn't help that she knew how to communicate effectively and how to use her words in just the right way.

The thought almost made her laugh out loud, but she stopped herself. Micah hadn't left yet and he looked like he had something else to say. Honestly, the boy opened with rhyming "Jell-O" and "Hello"; he should just spit out whatever he had to say out already.

"Is that all? Or do you have something else to say?" asked Phoebe, carefully examining her fingernails. The paint was chipping- she would have to fix that before this evening.

Micah shook his head. "Nope. Nothing." He flashed her the peace sign and bounded out of sight.

Phoebe smiled and closed the door. She turned back around and walked calmly back to the dinner table, setting down the gelatin like it was breakable. Micah was a little dorky, but he was sweet, she thought. He also had pretty red hair. She had always liked red hair. Christopher Blake had black hair, which was also nice, but there was something about the color red. Maybe it was because it was so rare. He also had that smattering of freckles- how adorable, freckles always made boys adorable- and brown eyes. People didn't appreciate brown eyes. They always wanted something exotic or at least colorful, and brown was neither. But Phoebe could appreciate brown eyes.

Goodness.

Those eyes.

He had a little bit of a melodic voice. She bet he was a good singer, but teenage boys hated singing or being in choir and musicals. It was a wonder any of them signed up to begin with. Phoebe honestly didn't know what it was that made it so unappealing to boys. Maybe it was because there were so many girls? That could get a little overwhelming.

"PHOEBE!"

Phoebe was stabbed out of her trance when Iolyn jabbed her with a spoon. "I asked if you wanted any Jell-O." He raised an eyebrow, making her feel like she were a complete ditz. She hated that feeling. It always made her want to hit something. That something usually ended up being a pillow or a wall.

Phoebe nodded. "Yes please."

---

She spent the forty-two minutes afterwards raiding her dresser. She tried eight different outfit combinations, made "Breakaway" play over ten times, banged on Iolyn's door so he would stop playing his music so loudly four times, and either hated or ignored her reflection in the mirror… too many times to count. For all intents and purposes, Phoebe was a perfectly average thirteen-year-old, and being a perfectly average thirteen-year-old (especially living in the United States of America), she was almost required to hate the way she looked. She didn't completely understand the mentality behind it, but she adopted it anyways, even if she did think it would lead to therapy.

In the end, she finally settled on a pair of jeans, a plain red t-shirt, and a dusty pink hooded jacket that proclaimed she had a “New York Soul”. She thought she looked very presentable.

A rhythmic knocking at the door let her know that Micah had arrived, and Phoebe smoothed down her hair, looking herself over in the mirror. She felt like this was a first date, even though it hadn’t been expressly stated. She wondered where they were going. Maybe to his house? But that would probably be awkward. Then again, where else was there to go out here? There were only houses out here and lots of country. Eh, who cared. It would be a nice change from her parents and Iolyn.

"Hi Phoebe!" Micah seemed chipper as Phoebe came out of her room. He was standing next to Iolyn, and Phoebe felt horrified. What had they been discussing? Sweet geez, if Iolyn had been telling embarrassing stories... or even worse, showing his drawings. Those were seriously creepy, even though everybody else thought the creatures Iolyn drew were the coolest things in the galaxy. Maybe Phoebe was a little bit of a wet blanket, but she liked her fantastical creatures limited to elves and dwarves and fairies. Not... whatever Iolyn drew.

But that was unimportant at the moment.

"Hi!" echoed Phoebe as she approached, pulling at her jacket's pockets self-consciously. She glanced at Iolyn and asked, "What have you been talking about?"

Iolyn shrugged. "Not much. Cars."

Micah added, "Movies."

"Tears in time and space." Iolyn grinned when Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Relax, Phoebe. We weren't talking about you and how sinister and evil you are."

Phoebe didn't appreciate that comment, so punched her brother lightly. "Shut up." She mentally cringed when Micah's eyebrows shot up, and she quickly asked him, "So what are we doing tonight? It doesn't look like there's that much to do around here..."

Micah crossed his arms. "Oh no?"

---

Phoebe had made s'mores at a campfire before. But this was the first time she had made them around a campfire in someone else's yard. All the other times had been while camping or at a beach or somewhere similar. It wasn't really a strange experience, but it was a little different since Micah’s parents would occasionally come outside and check up on the two kids. There was a picnic table with all the necessary graham crackers and chocolate bars and skewers, but she had to say that the fact that the sun was still up was killing the overall mood just a little (plus the parents. As sweet as they were…). "Just give it a few more weeks," said Micah when Phoebe mentioned this. "The sun'll go down sooner. And it'll make it better." Then he proceeded to blow out her flaming marshmallow.

Micah was a nice kid, Phoebe quickly discovered. Her parents might even approve if they ever started... well, it was too early to tell if he liked her as much as she thought she liked him. He had a way with animals, being in charge of the "domestic critters" around the place (a quality that wasn’t lost on her).

They really had a beautiful house. There weren't as many trees as at Phoebe's house, but there were enough to kind of give that feeling of being secluded from everything else. They had a little shed, which was nice, and also a small vegetable garden.

The two sitting by the fire didn't really feel completely alone because they were near enough to the road to hear the traffic driving by. They talked about everything from music to books to even high school politics. Micah went to a public school- Otsego- and Phoebe couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. No doubt her parents would either find a nice private school for her or just home school her. It totally sucked in her opinion, but what could she do?

"Otsego is terrible at football," said Micah when Phoebe asked. "Our team just... no. There's no way that we will ever win. Ever." He laughed when she looked unsure how to react to this news. What kind of strange culture was this when a boy was perfectly fine with his home football team always losing? It was strange. Refreshingly strange, she thought. "So what about your old city? What was it like?"

Phoebe exhaled. "It was different. Um... I went to private school. Parents' decision." She smiled and shrugged. "Um... my best friend Jackie and I used to have a lot of fun during the summer. One time we decided to spend the day in our pajamas because we were too lazy to change into normal clothes and… yeah, it was fun." She giggled, remembering how many strange looks she had gotten that day. "Uh... I dunno. Here… it’s just different."

"Better different?" Micah was probing for something.

She shook her head. "No… just different. Sometimes it's not good or bad." She made eye contact and felt her heart seize a little when she saw his brown eyes reflect the fire. It made her look away and stab her marshmallow farther into the fire. "So, what's there to do around here? Because I get bored." She pulled out the little ball of fire that was her marshmallow and observed it as it burned, making the exterior black and crusty.

Micah didn't answer her question. "Are you just gonna let it burn like that? You've done that to every marshmallow you've gotten."

"Yep." Phoebe smirked a little. "Habit I picked up." It was almost completely burnt now. "I like how soft and gooey it gets on the inside."

The other laughed. "Geez. You're cool and everything, but that's a little sick." She couldn’t help but notice how fond he looked of her, though. And not in the way that a friend would be fond of another friend. Or maybe that was just Phoebe being her same old hopeless romantic self.

When the sun finally set, Phoebe expected Micah to ask if she wanted to go home now. To be honest, she really didn’t. She liked him, even if he did tell cheesy jokes. She could see the two of them becoming really good friends.

But he had no intentions of asking if she wanted to go home yet. "Now for the fun part." A frightening grimace crossed the boy's face as he said in a low voice, "You in the mood for a ghost story?"

Phoebe crossed her legs and leaned back in her seat. "Please. If you think you can scare me with a few faces and telling me how a kid died in my room, you have another think coming." She didn't mention how easily she was scared if done properly. The one scary movie she had seen- Secret Window, even if it was technically a psychological thriller, it was still incredibly scary to a thirteen-year-old girl- had terrified her to the point where she couldn't sleep without a light on for three weeks. It certainly didn't help that she kept dreaming about people getting murdered.

But Micah did not seem like the type who could properly scare a girl, so he didn't need to know that.

He snickered. "Fine. Then I guess you don't want to know about the kid who actually died on your property in the 30's. Why do you think they were having such a hard time with selling the place?" He folded his arms resolutely and Phoebe felt a stab of curiosity. He was lying, no doubt; she could Google it or go down to the library and see for herself. But there was a story hanging in the balance... should she call him out on it?

No doubt she should.

"You're lying," she said accusingly. "You're being such a jerk, saying that sort of thing."

Micah shook his head fervently. "Oh no? You can Google it after I tell you what happened. I swear it's the truth." To emphasize how honest he was being, he crossed his heart while holding up his right hand. And when you're as young as they were, that is a very solemn vow.

Phoebe still looked at him questioningly. "OK... fine. Tell me what happened."

Micah chuckled in a very sinister manner, rubbing his hands together excitedly. "Excellent, Phoebe, excellent!" He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I don’t think you’re ready for a story of this level of terror.”

Phoebe was not amused. “Micah, shut up and tell the story.”

Micah was very amused by how she phrased that command. “Shut up and tell the story? Well, gee, dontcha think that would be kind of hard-”

“Ha. Ha. Get on with it!”

“Fine.” Micah cleared his throat once more and finally started the story. “I take it you know what it was like in the 1930’s. Great Depression and all that.” He looked very serious as Phoebe nodded curtly. “Well, there was this family living at your place. By all standards, they were a nice, normal, proud-to-be-American family. They went to church, had three kids, two even fought in the Second World War in later years.” He paused. “But the summer of… I think it was 1937 or 1938… something strange happened. You know those evergreen trees?”

Phoebe nodded. So far, she was not impressed.

“Vines had started growing from them. Glowing vines.”

Phoebe had to protest. “Micah, you said this was going to be a scary story!”

“I’m getting there! I’m sorry it isn’t a cheap scare!” He did not look happy at how she had criticized his story. “Anyways. These vines didn’t even act the way they should. Folks said that at night, they would come to life and start moving around. Like snakes.”

“Snakes aren’t that scary.”

“Fine, they just MOVED like FREAKY MOVING, GLOWING VINES OF DEATH! Are you happy you’re ruining my scary story, Phoebe? Are you?” Micah was obviously faking his anger and it made Phoebe collapse in laughter. “Fine. Be that way.”

“I’m sorry… hahahahahaha… I’m sorry!” gasped Phoebe in between giggles. “I’m sorry I ruined your story. No really. It was good.” Her laughter lessened. “Hey… do you wanna start over?” She poked at his arm, now feeling a little guilty that she had ruined whatever ‘tale of horror’ Micah had in store.

He shrugged. “Kinda. Do you really want to know about the kid who died at your house?” What scared Phoebe was how casually he asked this.

“You were serious?” she whispered in shock.

Micah laughed. “Let me tell you something about this city. It is boring. Boring like no freaking other. When you find out something even remotely interesting happened here, you cling to it. No way I’m making this up. We can Google it right now if you’d like.” He made a motion as if to get up from his seat.

Phoebe looked down, fussing with her jacket’s zipper. “Er, uh, no. That’s fine.” As if she needed proof that her new house could possibly be haunted.

“So… you seem creeped out enough just knowing that someone kicked the bucket at the place where you now live.” This really seemed to entertain Micah. It annoyed Phoebe a little because how would Micah like it if his house were a death site?

She blinked rapidly and shook her head, which of course contradicted what she said. “No, I’m not creeped out at all. It’s just a little weird…” She paused. “Not inside, right?”

Micah laughed gleefully, slapping his hand against his knee. “Doggone, you are creeped, Phoebe! Haha, that is hilarious. Dead people freak you out.” He took an unnaturally sick pleasure in this and Phoebe was rethinking her judgment of him being a nice boy. “All right. Let’s start over, Phoebe Kloet.” He smirked and leaned closer.

Phoebe wasn’t sure why her heart was pounding so hard.

---

Once upon a time, there was a ring of evergreen trees. They weren’t planted that way; it was one of God’s little mysteries, or at least that’s what Willem Alexander said when he bought the place in 1922. His three children- Nat, Virgil, and Rose- loved the ring of evergreen trees for one reason or another. Nathaniel said that being in the open country reminded him of where he was from. Rose said that she thought the evergreens smelled nice and she liked how they stayed green during the fall and winter when all the other trees withered. As for the middle child, Virgil… well, he never said why, but he spent the most time out of any of them by the ring of evergreen trees.

Then came the night of August 12, 1938.

It was a strange night for sure. That is to say, it was a normal August night in Kalamazoo, but there was something in the air that made it clear that something was wrong. Almost… unnatural.

A frantic knocking at the front door with accompanying cries for help woke up the Alexander family sometime around midnight. They were startled to see a strange boy clutching at his stomach and gasping, “Help… don’t… know… evergreens…” He began to falter and let go of his stomach, making it obvious from his blood-soaked shirt that he had been attacked. He collapsed against the door, falling into Mrs. Alexander’s arms.

She yelled, “Somebody call an ambulance!” But it was too late.

The boy was gone.

---

“…To this day, nobody knows who that boy was. He had no ID on him. Nothing.” Micah shook his head and grinned. “Don’t you love it?”

Phoebe couldn’t honestly say she did.

Funny how Phoebe technically isn't a protagonist and yet this is the longest chapter so far.

Next chapter is a blast into the past! Yep, went there.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading!

Have some s'mores. :)