Q2. What’s the most scared you’ve ever been in October?
A2. When I got a birthday card from my grandmother.
Sophie woke to the raucous noise of roosters in the neighboring yard. Yawning wide, she sat up in bed, annoyed at the early hour, the sky outside still black. She stared down at her rumpled bedsheets for a moment, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before looking up across the darkened room. As she stared outside, she became aware of a pair of eyes staring inward, watching her. Jumping out of bed in fright, she relaxed somewhat when she recognized the outlined face.
Walking over to the sill, she propped the window open and leaned out. The lined face outside smiled and asked, “Mind if I come in, dear? I seem to have lost my key.” Now awake, Sophie nodded once before telling her grandmother to meet her at the door. Smiling, the elderly woman disappeared as Sophie walked through darkened rooms turning on lamps, arriving at the unlocked front door to meet her grandmother on the porch.
“Happy Birthday, little one!” the older woman greeted her, wrapping Sophie in a bony hug. Trapped in her embrace, Sophie wrinkled her nose at the vague smell of mildew. “I hope I didn’t wake you!”
Sophie shook her head, “No, you’re fine; the stupid roosters next door were crowing up a storm. You’d think that moving into the city I wouldn’t have to listen to their noise, but you’d be wrong because apparently roosters are now an urban pet, too.” As Sophie spoke, her grandmother watched her disapprovingly. Sophie looked confused. “What? Did I say something wrong? You’re not a rooster fan, are you?”
“No, can’t stand the nasty beasts,” her grandmother responded curtly. “But what happened to your manners? Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Sophie blinked in surprise. “Invite you in? Why? You know you’re always welcome! Come on in."
“Thank you, dear.” A thin smile crept across her grandmother’s features as she stepped across the threshold into the house, casting a nasty look at a series of pencil marks drawn onto the doorframe. Kissing her granddaughter on the cheek with dry lips, she clapped her hands together, saying, “Well, as long as we’re up, how about a bite of breakfast, then? Nothing like a birthday breakfast to start the day! I’m thinking french toast with plenty of syrup. Thoughts?”
“I was thinking more like fried chicken…” Sophie joked, closing the front door on the noisy birds still crowing at the top of their lungs. Something seemed to have them even more riled up than usual. She followed the older woman into the kitchen. “Not that I’m complaining, but… why exactly are you here, especially this early?”
“Oh, that. Your mother called,” her grandmother explained over breakfast preparations. “She had to go to work early and wanted me to keep an eye on you with all of this odd news recently.”
Sophie nodded with a shudder. Things had gotten strange. The mental hospitals were becoming over-crowded with a series of people acting odd, many of whom used to be powerful, influential figures beforehand. Then, there had been a weird series of accidents as children across the country had been found alive but completely unresponsive, almost as if someone had stolen their souls.
Scanning the room, yesterday’s mail caught Sophie’s eye on the countertop. Sitting on top was a bright red envelope, her name scrawled across the front, likely a birthday card. As her grandmother bustled about, Sophie walked over and picked up the envelope, tearing it open and shaking out the card inside.
“Oh hey,” she called out. “This one’s from you!”
As she spoke, the older woman suddenly became stock still. Turning slowly, she said, “Oh, that. Sent it by accident before I knew I was coming over. You can just pass that here.”
Sophie paid no heed to her grandmother’s command as she read the message inside, her blood suddenly running cold. Finishing, she began to back out of the room, her eyes opened wide, the card in her hand falling to the ground, a photograph fluttering out. Watching her granddaughter carefully, Sophie’s grandmother stepped closer, asking her where she was going.
Abandoning all pretense, Sophie turned and ran for the front door, passing the forgotten photograph lying on the kitchen linoleum. In the picture, her grandmother stood smiling in front of Big Ben in London, across the ocean. She’d be home next week, the card said.
Struggling briefly with the handle, Sophie finally succeeded in opening the door, rushing outdoors into the still dark morning. In the neighboring yard, the roosters continued their crowing. Sophie hopped the fence into the enclosed area as a tall, shadowy creature that no longer resembled her grandmother began to stalk its perimeter.
As the creature scaled the fence into the pen with Sophie, a voice called out from her neighbor’s darkened porch. “Here, feed the birds for me while you’re in there, won’t you?” As the voice finished speaking, a tossed sack of feed landed at Sophie’s feet. The creature snarled and lunged at Sophie who, having bent down to pick up the feed, leapt back spilling kernels everywhere.
As the kernels fell to the ground, the creature suddenly stopped. Against its will, it bent, hunkered over, and started counting each of the fallen kernels. Sophie backed nervously away and climbed back over the fence. By the early day’s new light, Sophie could just make out a tall woman sitting on the porch. “Compulsive counters, witches are. She’ll be at it for a while; it’ll give me the time I need to properly take care of her.”
“Wi-witches?!” Sophie interjected.
“Of course witches. Bit of an infestation we’ve got in this country these days.” She paused. “No one in their sane mind would keep roosters as pets otherwise, you know? Wonderful witch detectors, though. Shame you invited her in after I spent all that time drawing protection glyphs on everyone’s doors. Kind of dumb, that was... but then again, not everyone’s a trained hunter, I suppose.”
Behind her, the tall woman continued talking to the space Sophie had recently vacated as she made her way home thinking that, for next year’s birthday, she’d make sure to sleep in.
