11. Samhain

Chapter 11

Samhain

H ugo jogged down his porch steps, carrying the bottle of wine, and strode over to the purple house next door. He paused at the base of the porch steps. He felt a presence; eyes watched his every move. He turned around and saw nothing. There was still a sense that someone or something watched him. He peered over at Johanna’s house across the street. The dark blinds were drawn shut. No light. No movement. Nothing. Perhaps it was only his imagination or something else.

Hugo turned his attention back to Alice’s house, looking up at the black front door. The lights in the jack-o’-lanterns dimmed as the candles slowly melted from existence. Plastic candles flickered in the windows. His palms were sweaty. The bottle felt like it was going to slip from his hands. He grabbed onto the neck and held the bottom to ensure its safety. A sense of nervousness and dread and excitement all at once coursed through his body. He couldn’t wait any longer. He trekked up the steps.

Hugo stood before the black door, clutching the bottle of wine in one hand and hesitating to knock with the other. He tried to peer through the window set into the center of the doorframe. The sheer black curtain obstructed his view into the house, but an unmistakable silhouette moved inside.

Determined not to cower away, he knocked. The sound of creaking floorboards, however faint, grew slightly louder as a figure approached the door. The lock mechanism turned, and the door cracked open. Alice peered around the side and gave a smile as soon as she recognized who was standing at the door.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Alice asked, brushing her violet hair behind her right ear.

“I thought that since Halloween was your favorite holiday, you shouldn’t spend the evening by yourself,” Hugo replied as he presented the wine bottle. “This is a new brand I’ve been waiting to try. I thought maybe we could share the bottle.”

Alice opened the door fully and stood in the threshold. She had exchanged her trick or treat witch costume for all black athletic lounge clothing. She clearly hadn’t been expecting visitors on this dark evening. Alice took the bottle and examined the logo; her eyes lingered on the heart, crown, and upside down spade.

“Red-Hearted Queen? I saw this in the store, but haven’t tried it yet. Thank you. Please come in.” She stepped into the hallway.

Hugo accepted the invitation and followed. He placed his jacket on a coat rack by the door and his shoes respectfully next to it. The house was designed similarly to Hugo’s, only reversed. A winding staircase led upstairs. A door nestled beneath the stairs. The hallway led into the kitchen with a dining room in between. An entryway led to the living room off to the side.

Multiple ornate antique console tables lined the hallway walls. Black candelabras adorned the tables. The candles dripped with wax as they dimly lit the hallways with dancing, flickering light. Purple and white crystals filled in the space around the candelabras.

“Please feel free to make yourself at home,” Alice invited as she moved down the hallway and disappeared into the kitchen.

Hugo entered the living room. His eyes widened with amazement as the sight overwhelmed him. Every square inch was covered with some sort of object. Black candle sconces, old pictures of relatives, animals, stages of the moon, and other various spooky images decorated the walls.

A fireplace centered on the wall to the adjoining hallway. Its warmth and glow illuminated the room. Lit candles filled the mantle, more for show than light. The wax of various shades of purple, black, red, and white dripped down the front of the mantle like gnarled fingers stretching for the dark hardwood below.

A grandfather clock continually ticked away on the far wall next to a hutch containing various oddities. Fully stocked, dark oaken bookshelves lined the remaining wall spaces in the room. Crystals, pumpkins of various sizes, and plants filled in every available space. The smell of sage and incense burning lingered in the room. Hugo felt overwhelmed and intrigued at the same time.

Dark red curtains with gold trim draped the windows opposite the fireplace. A matching velvet Victorian couch sat below the windows. Dark wood trim offset the red velvet. Pillows of various sizes lined every inch of the couch. A small, round table separated the couch from a black, high-back leather chair. The leather was weathered in various shades of black from use and held secrets to stories that took place over its lifetime. Colorful Tiffany lamps boxed in all the furniture pieces.

An elaborate hourglass stood alone on the round table. It drew in Hugo’s attention. Sand slowly fell through the glass opening into the larger chamber below. Three twisting pillars held up the hourglass. A wood ring sat in the center of one pillar. Hugo touched the ring, and it moved. He twisted the ring up, and the sand appeared to slow down. He rotated the ring down a few times, and the sand fell faster. Curiosity got the better of Hugo, and he spun the ring all the way to the top of the pillar. The sand nearly stopped falling.

“Neat,” Hugo said. He turned his attention to the decorations on the wall.

Alice entered the room carrying two wineglasses with the opened bottle .

“I take it you’re not a minimalist, are you?”

“Quite the opposite.” Alice set the wineglasses on a coffee table in front of the couch. “I’m a maximalist.”

“A maximalist?”

“I want to bring the space to life with variety and history and creativity. It’s… it’s just who I am.”

“I like it,” said Hugo. “There’s always something interesting to look at.”

“That’s the idea,” Alice said as she poured the wine into the glasses. She handed one to Hugo. “To Halloween,” said Alice as she presented her glass in a toast.

“To Samhain,” Hugo responded as he clinked her wineglass.

“It’s pronounced Sauin,” she replied with a wink before taking a sip of wine.

Hugo smiled, smelled the inside of the glass, and took a sip as well. A strange, bitter taste washed over his tongue. “Bold, fruity, and a hint of something… I don’t know what.”

Alice scrunched her face and took another sip. “There is definitely something else in this. I’m not certain, but it’s… different.”

She paused for a moment before walking over to the leather chair. The chair was large enough that she could sit with her legs crossed. Hugo moved the pillows aside and took a seat on the couch. The velvety cushions felt soft despite the aged appearance.

“We had a good number of trick-or-treaters tonight,” Hugo said before taking another sip.

“Did you come over here just to make small talk?” Alice quickly replied before leaning back in the chair.

“Um, well…” Hugo mustered before taking another sip. “No, I thought—”

Alice grinned. “Wow. You’re out of practice, aren’t you?”

“In a lot of things,” Hugo replied. “I haven’t done much since Elizabeth died.”

“Grief can be hard to overcome.”

Hugo peered at the burning log in the fireplace and then back at Alice. “We used to drink wine by firelight all the time and just talk,” Hugo explained before pausing. “It feels good to do it again.”

He finished his glass and poured more from the bottle.

“What was she like?” Alice asked.

“She loved life. She was a ray of sunshine. Elizabeth was my everything,” Hugo replied. “She would have loved your decorations. History was her passion. She would have examined every picture you have on the wall. Probably tell you about the era.”

“Sounds like she knew what her passion was and followed it,” Alice said before drinking the rest of her glass. “All historians have a favorite time period. What was hers?”

“She loved the renaissance the most,” replied Hugo. “She used to drag me to the Renaissance Festival every year. It wasn’t my thing, but I went anyway. For her. She always dressed up in costumes. She was in heaven. I enjoyed watching the jousting, though. This year, I didn’t go. I couldn’t bring myself to go.”

“You loved her. I can tell,” Alice said.

“She was my everything, and now she’s gone. The worst part was that all I could do was watch. Watch the love of my life fight for hers. She hid the pain, but I saw it in her eyes. She always felt guilty about her parent’s deaths. I never understood it. Not until I watched her die, and there wasn’t anything I could do. We were a team, a partnership, and she had to fight that battle alone.”

“She wasn’t alone. You were there for her. That’s all she could have asked for—you by her side.”

Hugo focused on the stillness of the reddish-purple liquid held in his hands. “I would’ve given anything to fix her, like a magic wand or something I could’ve waved to heal her… If only they were real.”

“What if they were?”

Hugo huffed. “If only.” After taking another sip, he set his glass down. He twisted his ring, gave it two turns, and stopped. Hugo wasn’t here to discuss his past with Alice. He wanted to discuss their future. Picking up the glass again, he took another sip. “So, what brings you to a small town like Newbury Grove? ”

Alice sat upright in her chair. She refilled her glass and gulped down half of it. “Have you ever trusted someone… someone you were so certain supported you… only to have them betray you?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“I did. Her name was Sam. I trusted her so much that I revealed a secret. A secret that only a few knew. Sam betrayed me. Turned on me.”

“Turned on you?”

“The relationship,” Alice paused, lowering her eyes to the floor. Hugo could sense she was holding back. “I had to get away. I had to leave. We argued. She was talking to the wrong people. I couldn’t trust Sam any longer. I was terrified. I searched for a place I could hide away. That’s when I found Newbury Grove. So far, this place has been welcoming—well, mostly. I hope it stays that way.” She glanced up.

“Don’t worry about Johanna. She’s grumpy to everybody.”

“She’s not the one I’m most worried about.” Alice locked eyes with Hugo.

He lost himself in her emerald greens. Hugo sensed a hint of fear behind her eyes. Their gazes lingered. He fought back feelings of jumping across and tearing at each other’s clothes. Burning desires swelled from deep within. He wanted her in that moment and was certain she wanted him. The unforeseen force of his past held him back.

Alice bit her lower lip. She held her breath for a long pause before exhaling. Hugo’s heart beat faster, and his head swirled. It felt like an eternity, yet it was only a few fleeting moments. He wanted it to last forever and hoped she did as well.

Hugo was the first to look away. He took a few more sips. Those few sips of wine mustered enough courage within Hugo to spit into his hand.

“I promise that I, Hugo Dodds, do solemnly spit swear, sealed with a kiss, will never turn on you, Alice Primrose, for being who you are,” he proclaimed as he extended his right hand. “On the condition that you accept me for all of my faults.”

Alice giggled before spitting and extending her right hand to proclaim, “I promise that I, Alice Primrose, do solemnly spit swear, sealed with a kiss, will never turn on you, Hugo Dodds, and accept you for who you are.”

They shook hands.

“Sealed with a kiss.” Hugo raised his glass for a toast.

“Sealed with a kiss,” Alice responded as she clinked his glass.

A slight shiver pulsated through her arm as he dragged his fingers across her palm and let go of her hand. They sipped more wine before letting out a laugh.

“There is definitely something different in that wine.” Hugo pointed to the wine goblet. “We should find out. It’s driving me crazy.”

“I’m something of a wine expert,” Alice explained.

“Oh! You’re a ‘wine connoisseur,’” Hugo sarcastically replied with a smirk.

“I’m a little more than a ‘connoisseur,’” she retorted.

“Elizabeth loved wine. She got me into it. I was more of a bourbon man, but it grew on me. Now”—he hesitated as he glanced down at his goblet—“it’s all I drink.” He finished the remaining wine.

Alice placed her glass on the side table. She paused for a moment. She tapped her fingers on her knees. Her foot twitched. She bit her top lip as if to hold herself back from speaking. She glanced around the room, focusing on many areas before locking eyes with Hugo. “If I show you something, do you promise not to freak out?”

“That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

“I need you to promise.”

“Well, now I’m both intrigued and worried.”

“I’m serious.”

“I swore an oath to you, didn’t I? I promise.”

“Come with me.” She smiled and extended her hand .

“Where?”

“Trust me.”

Hugo set his glass down on the coffee table, rose, and took her hand. She led him down the hallway to the wooden door below the staircase. She grabbed the brass knob and pushed the door open. It led to a set of twisting stairs descending into the darkened basement. Small chips of paint flaked and peeled off the stairs, giving them a withered appearance.

“Elizabeth and I watched enough crime shows for me to know I shouldn’t go down these stairs with you.” Hugo chuckled.

“Trust me, what I have down there isn’t criminal,” Alice reassured him. “But it should be.” She gave a Cheshire like grin.

They entered the darkness. The stairs creaked as they slowly proceeded down. Their feet gingerly touched the next step as they built trust in its ability to hold. It was dark. The faint smell of herbs only eased the smell of dampness and mildew.

Alice grabbed for the light pull string. The basement partially illuminated with the warm glow of the incandescent light. It was dull and empty. Scant cardboard boxes littered the grayish floors. The walls were barren. A few cracks traversed along the channel grooves of the cinderblocks, damaged with age. A wood door with ornate iron fixtures was the only distinctive feature along the back wall.

Hugo paused, questioning the dimensions and layout of the basement, realizing the door should go outside. He couldn’t remember a basement entrance in the house’s backyard.

“Where does the door go?”

“Let me show you,” Alice said. She grabbed the cast iron handle, hesitated, and let go.

“What’s wrong?”

Alice focused again on Hugo. Her face no longer beamed with delight. “I need to know if I can trust you. I need to know if you trust me.”

“Of course. I already said you could,” replied Hugo .

“I need to know.”

“You can trust me. What do you have in there?” Hugo took a step closer to the door. His body tightened, unsure of what was about to happen. He positioned his right foot to make an expeditious retreat backward, just in case.

“What’s behind this door is nothing like you could’ve imagined.” Alice gripped the handle a second time. She pushed forward, revealing a secret room.

Hugo moved closer to peer through the doorway. The smell of grapes, earth, and mustiness lingered in the air. The room was dark. Only the outlines of what appeared to be wooden barrels along the wall were visible in the incandescent glow. Alice entered through the doorway. Hugo followed.