4. The Witching Hour

Chapter 4

The Witching Hour

M ax’s high-pitched moan, a mixture of agony and commanding attention, broke the silence. She was tall enough to rest her head on the edge of the bed without jumping up. Her tail swayed back and forth as she awaited a response. Hugo laid under a billowing dark comforter; his head buried in a pillow facing away from the demanding pup. She moaned again in a higher, distressed pitch.

Hugo rustled under the bedcovers. She let out a third moan.

“No,” Hugo’s muffled response emerged from beneath the comforter.

Max plowed her head as far forward as she could to get closer to Hugo.

“I said no,” he reiterated.

Max’s bark pierced through Hugo’s ears and directly into his soul. He begrudgingly flipped the covers off and rolled over.

The yellow glow of the alarm clock resting atop the nightstand came into focus. 3:30 a.m. Max’s tail wagged back and forth. Her manipulative, sad, brown eyes begged for Hugo’s attention .

“It’s only a few more hours,” Hugo exclaimed. He rolled and, in one motion, flung the covers back over his head. “Go back to sleep.”

Max jumped onto the bed with a single leap. She trampled around the bed, her body leaning against Hugo’s. He emerged from under the covers to see her nose inches from his face. He could feel her warm breath with every panting. She whined once more.

“Fine,” he agreed to her request. “Make it quick.”

Max jumped around the mattress before leaping down from the bed.

Hugo rolled back over and swung his legs over the edge. He sat there, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “It’s your turn to let her out,” Hugo said to the other side of the king-sized bed.

His eyes locked onto a small indentation in the mattress, now vacant. He slowly rotated his black onyx ring. Another bark echoed through the bedroom.

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” Hugo replied. “Quit being bossy.”

Hugo tossed the covers about the bed without care—they hadn’t been properly tucked or made in weeks. The headboard collected a small layer of dust. Two nightstands stood watch over the room like silent guardians—one with an alarm clock, the other with a small lamp. Hugo’s side wiped clean, not with a rag, but with a wipe of his hand. The far nightstand remained untouched with a layer of dust like freshly fallen snow. Once full of warmth, joy, and love, the bedroom was a disheveled mess.

Hugo moved toward the door. The dark hardwood floor was cold to his bare feet. He dodged piles of dirty clothes that needed his attention scattered in front of a long dresser. He tucked his arms close as he passed by to avoid knocking over the stacks of papers and other oddities collected on top of the dresser. Max focused on the bedroom door with a burning intensity, as if she was trying to will it open. Hugo grabbed and turned the antique brass doorknob.

Max burst through the open door, running down the hall, and clattered down the stairs. Hugo struggled to find the light switch in the dark. With a flick of the switch, Hugo became temporarily blinded as the hallway illuminated. He rubbed his eyes, and his sight was quick to return. Pictures of happier times lined the hallway. Their frames crooked and disoriented from being bumped and never corrected. Max whined from the base of the stairs as she waited.

“I’m coming,” Hugo yelled.

The hallway led past the bathroom and other bedrooms to a balcony railing that overlooked the winding stairs. Hugo braced himself between the railing and the wall, still getting his bearings and wanting to make sure he wouldn’t trip over his pajama pant legs as he descended the stairs. His hand left streaks in the dust as it slid down the banister.

Max ran through the kitchen to the back door. Hugo retrieved his shoes at the base of the steps, slipped them on, and joined her. She twirled around in a circle as Hugo gripped the doorknob. She slipped through as soon as the opening was big enough for her slender frame.

A staircase emerged from the back door with paint chipped off the railing. The wood showed signs of rot and decay from being exposed to the elements. A single lawn chair and grill occupied a space next to the steps. A few trees towered over the yard from the surrounding houses. The glow of the full moon struggled to shine through the remaining foliage to illuminate the entire yard. The empty tree branches cast a shadow like gnarled fingers clawing out into the darkness.

The backyard was small, desolate, and unwelcoming. A picketed privacy fence enclosed the space, and a locked gate was the only point of exit. A small tool shed occupied a back corner. Wild, unkempt bushes lined the back fence. The decaying remains of leaves covered the yard.

Max sprinted down the stairs and explored the yard. She trounced around, rustling the fallen leaves, searching for that one perfect spot. Smelling every square inch, she hunted for intruders to her yard along the picket fence. She stopped to smell under the tool shed before continuing on her journey .

Hugo traipsed down the stairs and waited for her to complete her exploration. The air was crisp. Every exhale produced a diminutive, puffy white cloud. Hugo’s teeth chattered. He buried his hands under the sleeves of his black T-shirt. Hugo paced, trying to make the vibration of his jaw stop.

“Hurry up,” he commanded in a low whisper.

Max wasn’t paying attention. She continued on her crusade, stopping momentarily to sniff the ground, only to run off to explore a new spot.

Hugo gazed up at the night sky. It was clear, only a few clouds. The stars shined brighter in the moon’s glow. Hugo exhaled and watched as the white cloud of fog danced in the nighttime air before dissipating.

“I can still make a bigger cloud than you,” Hugo said to an unseen figure. He closed his eyes and drew out his exhale, creating a much larger cloud of fog.

“I win,” Hugo whispered, and then paused. “I miss you so much. Please. Please, tell me what to do.”

He focused on the moon, keeping his eyes closed for a moment before opening them. A dark shadow flew past and disappeared behind a tree. Hugo struggled to see exactly what it was.

What was that? Hugo thought. It was too big to be an airplane. An owl? No. It was moving too fast to be an owl.

Hugo listened for any hint of sounds. He scanned the sky for any signs of movement. There was only silence.

Max’s bark cut through the silence. Hugo snapped his attention over to where she was standing. She barked again.

“Max!” Hugo yelled. “Knock it off.”

Max stood her ground, defending her yard from all intruders. Her barks echoed throughout the night sky. A cat moved along the tall privacy fence. Max rushed to the fence to defend her yard. The cat jumped off into a neighboring one.

“Stop barking!” Hugo commanded in a hushed tone.

A light turned on in an upstairs room of the newly painted purple house. The light caught Hugo’s attention. He snapped quickly back toward Max with an angered face.

“See what you did?” He pointed to the window. “You woke the neighbors. Get inside.”

Max blankly stared back at Hugo. She wagged her tail before plopping into a downward dog position.

“Get inside,” Hugo commanded again as he moved closer.

Max sprung up and ran circles around the yard.

“Max, this is not playtime,” his voice grew louder. “Come here, girl.” He let out a low whistle.

She ran around the yard. Hugo kept a wide base, feet spread shoulder width apart, in anticipation of which way Max would run. A futile attempt to catch her. She juked toward the center of the yard. Hugo tripped as one of his pajama pant legs caught under the sole of his shoe. She escaped to be chased once again.

“Max! Come here!” Hugo yelled, no longer in a hushed voice.

“You won’t catch her,” a voice came from behind Hugo.

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “My dog is being stubborn at the moment.”

Hugo turned to see who was talking. A woman’s face framed by a brimmed black hat peered over the top of the fence.

“You won’t catch her by chasing her. Come here.” She summoned him to the fence. “She’ll come to you in time.”

Hugo moved toward the mysterious woman.

“Keep your back to her. She’ll be over in a moment. Just wait,” she commanded.

Max stopped running and laid down on a bed of leaves.

“I’m sorry… She’s not usually like this,” Hugo explained. “She saw a cat and got all excited.”

“Hopefully, that poor little kitty cat wasn’t too mean to your dog,” she replied with a slight smile. “I’m Alice, by the way. Alice Primrose.” She extended her arm over the fence. Her hand emerged from inside the sleeve of her black jacket .

Hugo took her hand. It was cold to the touch, as if she had been outside in the crisp fall air for a few hours.

“Hugo Dodds,” he replied as they shook hands. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”

“Not at all. I was already up. I never miss a beautiful moon.”

“You moved in pretty fast. I never saw a moving truck. I like what you did with the house color, by the way. It’s…. different.”

“Yeah, it’s more my style now.” She nodded approvingly at the house. Hugo glimpsed what could be purple hair in the moonlight. She focused back on Hugo. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Umm, yeah. No. Umm,” Hugo paused. “I’m sorry. I meant—I didn’t see anyone paint it.”

“My house painting methods are very… efficient.”

“Very,” Hugo replied. “I like it. It’s an excellent color.”

“Good,” Alice gleefully replied. “I was worried it would scare some people away. But you have to be who you are, right? Even if it makes people uncomfortable.”

“Right, although there are a few neighbors who might complain. One in particular.”

Alice chuckled. “I told you it would work.”

Max trotted over to Hugo, using her nose to nudge his left hand into position around her ears for scratching. She sat down, her tail brushing aside any fallen leaves. The dog glared at Hugo with her manipulative, brown puppy-dog eyes, smiling, tail wagging, waiting for him to scratch her. Hugo immediately grabbed Max’s pink canvas collar, not wanting her to escape again.

“Thank you,” Hugo said, with a hint of relief in his voice.

“You’re welcome. Give her some slack; she’s still young. Just needs a little training,” Alice replied with a wink toward Max. “Does she aggravate Mrs. Dodds, or is she the favorite parent?”

“Umm…” Hugo paused. He pinched his ring. The black onyx band was cold to the touch. “There is no Mrs. Dodds. Not anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I saw the ring and assumed— ”

“That’s okay. She—” Hugo hesitated. “She passed a few months ago.”

“Oh!” Alice replied with a horrified expression. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Hugo reassured Alice. “I’m fine, by the way.”

“Fine?”

“That’s the first thing someone always asks me. How I’m doing ,” Hugo explained sarcastically. “Fine. That’s always my default answer. Just…. fine.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Alice replied. Hugo raised an eyebrow. “Losing someone is… Any loss is tough. You’re never fine. You never will be.”

“ Right ,” Hugo enthusiastically replied. “Everyone wants me to act like it’s no big deal—”

“But you can’t,” Alice finished his thought.

“Exactly!” A sense of relief rushed over Hugo.

“It’s as if the world wants you to move on. To forget. Like it never happened.”

“But you can’t. You can’t erase everything like it never happened. Like oh well. That’s over . What’s next? ”

“Well, Hugo Dodds, I’ll make you this promise. I’ll never ask you how you’re doing. Deal?” Alice spit in her hand and extended it again over the fence.

Hugo stepped back; he furrowed his brow as he focused on the outstretched hand.

“A deal this important requires more than a pinky swear,” Alice explained. “The order goes: Pinky Swear, Spit Swear, and then Blood Oath. I can go get my ritual tools, and we can agree to this in blood if you prefer, but I thought it would be less messy this way.”

Hugo’s face went vacant, unsure how to reply.

“I’m joking, by the way.” Alice giggled.

Hugo laughed. He spit into his hand and shook hers. “I’ll take that deal.”

“A deal sealed with a kiss,” she exclaimed .

“Excuse me?” Hugo yanked his hand away.

“My spit touched your spit. It’s like we kissed,” Alice replied with a wink and a smile.

“Well”—Hugo blushed—“That’s one way of looking at it.”

“You need to learn the history of the spit swear, Hugo Dodds.”

“That sounds like something Elizabeth would have said,” he replied with a smile.

“I like her already. Well, Hugo Dodds, take excellent care of that dog. She’s a good girl, regardless of what you say.” Alice locked onto Max. “Who’s a good girl? You’re a good girl.” Alice raised the pitch in her voice.

Max wagged her tail and gave out a bark that pierced through their ears and directly into their souls.

“That woke up the neighborhood,” Alice said as she slid behind the fence. “Have a good night, Hugo. It was nice to meet you.”

“You too, Alice Primrose.” He bowed his head, smiling. He gazed back up at the full moon one last time before turning his attention toward Max.

“Next time you come when called,” he commanded. “Come on, let’s go get a biscuit.” He led Max back up the wooden staircase. Hugo held open the door as Max entered.

Hugo paused before shooting a glance back at the purple house. He smiled—a smile unlike any he’s had in a long time. Finally . Finally, someone who gets me . His eyes dropped to his black onyx ring. He bit his lip to quell the smile, but it lingered. His smile wouldn’t let Hugo dismiss his moment of joy. He once more glanced toward the purple house, nodded, and then joined Max inside.