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 Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:26 pm
 Batholith owned a cell phone. It wasn’t one of those fancy phones that you could connect to the internet with, because Bath had to pay for his own cell phone plan and he simply couldn’t afford a data plan. But it did have calling capabilities, just as a phone should, as well as a camera, because apparently now that was a standard piece of cell phone hardware. Whatever. He used it mostly just for calls or for occasionally contacting Mr. Calrose. Really, he didn’t use his cell phone very often, and he hadn’t given out his number to very many people. Only people he trusted had it—he didn’t want his phone number to fall into the wrong hands.
So he was a little surprised when, as he was finishing up his homework one afternoon, he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize. He picked it up and said cautiously, “Hello?” One of his hands lay on the desk, its fingers drumming against the boards as he waited for a reply.
“Hi!” the voice said on the other end of the line. It sounded perky—really perky. “May I speak to Batholith?”
Well, he didn’t know anyone who was perky, that was for sure, and he was more afraid of people he knew than strangers. It probably wasn’t an old gangmate trying to track him down and murder him. “This is Batholith speaking,” he said.
“Hi, Batholith, my name’s Verity Crescent. I was looking at the student volunteer boards at the Academy today and I saw you were listed as a volunteer tutor?”
Batholith nodded, even if Verity couldn’t see it. “I do tutoring in math and science, juniors or freshlings,” he said. “I can also do seniors, but I can’t do college students. They know more than I do.”
This Verity person giggled. “Yeah, no, that’s reasonable,” she said. “Actually, it wasn’t tutoring I was calling about.” Oh dear. But before Bath could say anything, she was continuing with, “I actually wanted to know if you were available for a babysitting gig?”
Batholith opened his mouth, then hesitated. He’d never babysat anyone before, not in any official capacity. Okay, the boss’s sister, but that was more like chaperoning slash bodyguarding, not really babysitting… Then again, it would be silly to refuse her before he heard more details. Specifically, details about if he was going to get paid. She’d found out about him from the volunteer boards, after all, she might have assumed he was willing to work with kids under any circumstance for no pay. Honestly, was there no better way to find babysitters today? Online, perhaps, or by word-of-mouth from your friends and neighbors? “I don’t…normally babysit,” he said cautiously.
“Well, it’s a longshot, I know,” Verity said. “But we’ll pay you fifteen crowns an hour.”
Fifteen crowns an hour? That was above minimum wage. That was good pay, and he might even be able to earn enough for his phone bill this month. “What’re the details?” he asked without thinking. He cursed himself internally. That was the way his old self talked. “I mean, how old is the kid—or are the kids—in question, and when do you need it? I might not be available all days,” he added. He probably would be available for this gig, or he could make himself available, but if he heard something he didn’t like, it paid to have an easy way to back out.
“Our eldest is ten, and our younger is six. They’re both freshlings at the Academy.” There was a pause at the other end of the line, and it sounded to Bath like the lady was taking a deep breath. “We need someone to take them trick-or-treating,” she said. “On Haunted Hallows. My partner…my partner needs someone here in case of…well, in case of emergencies. So we’d be hiring you to take our kids out trick-or-treating on Haunted Hallows.”
Haunted Hallows? Alright! Haunted Hallows meant several things for Batholith. It meant an opportunity to check out some sweet decorations, it meant an opportunity to go out for a walk in the streets (although his first year at the Academy had been a little…anxious on that score, considering a close encounter he had on the way back home) and, in this case, it meant an opportunity to make a little cash. “Yeah, I can do that,” he said. “When do you need me to pick them up, and where do you live?”
He definitely heard a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “We live in town,” she said, then proceeded to give her address. “The kids wanted to start trick-or-treating at six o’clock, but we’ve convinced them to hold off until seven. Still, I think it would be best if you could be here by six o’clock. We can feed you dinner when you get here.”
Alright, that meant no scarfing down a quick dinner in the half an hour between when the cafeteria opened for dinner and when he needed to get going. “That sounds good,” he said. “Is there anything else I need to know about either of them?”
“Yeah,” and once again she sounded hesitant. “Our boys are dressing up as scientists. They want me to ask you…this is silly, but they want me to ask you if you’d be willing to dress up as their escaped science experiment.”
Bath hesitated. Dressing up for Haunted Hallows was fun… “So long as they do all of my make-up and provide all of my costume except shirt, pants, and shoes, I’m in,” he said.
Verity laughed. “Alright, Batholith, thank you so much! We’ll see you next week. B’bye.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:27 pm
 It had been Frankie’s idea, of course. That was how their relationship as brothers worked—Frankie did the ideas, and Fena screened them through the view of society as a whole. If Fena judged the idea to be tenable by social standards, then they went with it. Dressing as scientists was respectable, and a classic Haunted Hallows choice. Besides, Shera was a scientist, so she could help them out with the costumes. They got together their lab coats, their goggles, and they even got a couple of plastic beakers and made some homemade glowing ooze to put in them for show. It took them a couple weeks to finish their costumes, but by the time they were finished, Haunted Hallows was still ages away. Three ages, to be precise, which meant three more sunsets until Haunted Hallows night and they got to finally wear these magnificent costumes.
Having a babysitter was a blow, but it was also, as both boys knew, very necessary. Shera wasn’t supposed to be alone, and it wasn’t like she could take them out, either. She didn’t have a lot of energy anymore. Mom said that she would get better soon, but the doctors were still running tests to make sure they’d gotten all of it. Looking at the scar on Shera’s wing, Fena sincerely hoped they had. She didn’t have a lot to lose, after all. But on the positive side, their babysitter was a known quantity. Shera had taught him in school for a year, back when she was a teacher, and so she knew a little about him. He was a good student, she said, and he was very scientific. She thought he might be a scientist someday, and he even consented to dress in theme with them! So that was nice.
The only thing that was left now was to hash out the exact design of Batholith’s make-up. Fena looked over his brother’s drawing and at their pile of Haunted Hallows make-up. “I think it needs less green,” he said.
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:28 pm
 “That’s okay,” Frankie said. “We can replace the green with purple. We have plenty of purple, and it’ll probably look better on his face, anyway.” Frankie scratched his ear with a pencil. “Ra said that his face is black and grey, right?”
Frankie was, to tell the truth, worried about leaving Ra home alone. He’d been worried a lot lately. It was bad enough finding out one of your parents had wing cancer if you were like Fena, who didn’t have wings, but Frankie did, and now he was worried that he might be getting cancer every time his wing hurt. It was silly, and he didn’t dare mention it to either of his parents, but it worried him all the same. He was also worried about losing Ra. He loved her so much, and he didn’t want her to go. She’d only just recently come home after the surgery. The doctors said she’d be all better soon, but he wasn’t so sure. It had shaken their world to its very foundations, but hopefully, this dark time would be over soon and everything could go back to normal. Soon they’d be able to go camping again, and go to book and game stores, and be able go to trick-or-treating with their Ra again.
In the meantime, Mom and Fena were right—they had to have a babysitter take them out. His only solace was that this was the fun kind of babysitter who was interested in dressing up, and not the dull kind. He wondered if he could convince the babysitter to let them stay out for hours. Three would be a good number, right?
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:29 pm
Batholith arrived a little before six o’clock and rang the doorbell. A fennekit yipped from inside in response, and a shadow by the window lazily opened an eye. Bath smiled at the extremely fluffy cat on the windowsill. His eye was drawn to the window beyond it, which let orange light in from what was probably a family room. The jack o’ lantern by the door had not yet been lit. Bath smiled. Yes, this was a house prepared for Haunted Hallows.
The door opened and a fellow Imp/Demon hybrid smiled at him. “Hey, you must be Bath,” she said. She stuck out a hand. “I’m Verity. Come in, come in.”
Bath smiled at her. “Yep, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you, Verity.” He stepped inside to see a cozy apartment with a living area snuggled up against a kitchen with a broad counter. The kitchen was full of the smells of a baking lasagna and pumpkin guts. Three more pumpkins sat on the kitchen counter. Two of them had been carved with faces already, but the third one was only now getting its face added to it by a grey Chimera with hunched shoulders and a heavily-bandaged wing.
Bath blinked. Her hair was shorter—a lot shorter—but he recognized the former science teacher, Mys. Grey. “Hey, Mys. Grey,” he said. “I’ll bet you don’t remember me.”
Mys. Grey looked up at him. She looked tired. Her face was lined, and some of the energy was gone from her pale eyes. But she still managed to smile at him. “I remember you, Batholith,” she said softly. “We got into a discussion on seismic measurement one day.”
Bath would have described the discussion as an “argument,” but he was grateful that she was forgiving of him. “Are you—uh…” He didn’t know quite how to ask it.
“The partner Verity mentioned on the phone?” She nodded. “Yup. That’s me. I can’t go out trick-or-treating. So yeah, we need you to take the kids.” She put down the knife—which she had been holding in an awkward overhand grip—and rubbed at her eyes. “You knew that,” she said, her voice muffled by her arms. “I’m sorry, I’ve been having trouble keeping track of things lately.”
Bath looked around helplessly for something to do. He would sit down next to her, but…well, it wasn’t right to sit and chat while someone else was baking in the kitchen. “Is there something I can do?” he asked Verity quietly.
Verity nodded. “Yeah, you could help us clean up the pumpkins, if you’d like?”
Bath nodded and grabbed a damp dishcloth. He ran it over the outside of the pumpkins, cleaning up the places where guts had spilled out over the outside. “What happened?” he asked Mys. Grey. “To your memory, I mean.” He wanted to ask her what had happened to her, why she had left school. They said you got sick, and then they said you wouldn’t be teaching here anymore. Bath knew at least two other people who hadn’t been happy to see her leave. He couldn’t ask her that question, though.
Mys. Grey seemed to understand, though. “Oh, my memory’s fine, sort of. I just got back from surgery,” she said, gesturing at her back. “So they’ve got me on all these oh-so-wonderful drugs, and it’s just sort of fried my brain at the moment.”
Coming back from surgery, combined with a cocktail of post-op drugs, certainly explained why she couldn’t be left alone and couldn’t take what amounted to a long evening walk with her kids. “Makes sense,” he said. “I hope you feel better soon, Mys. Grey.”
Mys. Grey smiled. “You can call me Shera, Bath. All of my friends call me Shera.” There was a clattering room at the end of the hall. “Sounds like the boys have noticed that you’re here,” she said. She smiled at him. “Don’t let ‘em run you ragged. Goodness knows we do, but we’re their parents, it’s part of the job.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:30 pm
The babysitter was here! Things were almost ready. Fena and Frankie were still getting ready. Frankie had already dressed in his labcoat, while Fena was waiting until the lasagna was done so that he didn’t spill tomato sauce all over his coat. He rushed past his brother, who was still coloring on the floor, and into the hall. The babysitter was shorter than he expected—he was about as tall as Mom, but nowhere near as tall as Ra. Ah, well. It was a little disappointing, but Fena wasn’t sure why—why did it matter how short the babysitter was? Weren’t babysitters supposed to be young, anyway? He shook his head to get the thoughts out and looked the babysitter over critically. He was dressed in a ragged shirt and pants, with a pair of heavy black boots. Excellent! The deal had been that they wouldn’t have to provide the meat of the wardrobe, which had given Frankie a bit of a tizzy when he found out he wouldn’t be able to dictate it. Personally, Fena felt like this was a better arrangement. People felt more comfortable in their own clothes, and Fena was old enough to feel uncomfortable dressing an adult. He was happy, then, that they just had to provide the makeup and the accessories.
It looked like the babysitter—Batholith, he told himself, his name was Batholith, like the rock formation—was helping Ra out with the pumpkins. Fena frowned. Ra needing help with pumpkins wasn’t new, but it still wasn’t welcome. Fena went over to the babysitter and tapped him on the arm. “Hi,” he said. “My name’s Fenaret, but people call me Fena. I’m the older brother—Frankie’s in the other room designing your make-up for tonight.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:31 pm
Frankie couldn’t get up right now—he had work to do! He’d finished the design, but he needed one last check to make sure that he had all of the makeup parts that he needed. Once he’d confirmed that, he’d be ready to go. Okay, black paint, check. White paint, check. Purple paint? Oh, yes. They had some fake stitches to add, too, in dark grey, which would work. He’d just have to blend things with the grey paint, which he could make from a mix of black and white… He listened to his brother talking to the babysitter in the hall and made a loud, wailing grunt to let them know that he was listening and that he’d be ready in a minute. He snuck a glance towards the main room to see if he could see the stranger. Haha, no. The counter was way too tall, and Ra was in the way. There was nothing for it. Frankie picked up his reference picture and the makeup supplies and marched out into the main room. There, he surveyed their “experiment.” Yes, he’d do. Purple would definitely be good. “We have a wig for you to wear,” he said. “And some makeup.” The little hybrid held up the make-up kit as if he’d been asked for proof. “I’ll be in charge of your makeup today.” He pushed the other hybrid onto one of the stools seated around the bar and handed him the reference picture. “Hold this under your chin, please, so that it’s facing me.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:32 pm
Batholith’s eyebrows shot right up, and he risked a glance at Sherald. The Chimera grinned and rolled her eyes. He could see now what he meant about not letting the kids run him ragged… “A wig sounds good. Is there anything else? I’d rather not wear a collar, if that’s on the list, but hey, your design.” He picked up the reference sheet and looked it over. It was a crude version of his face—or at least, he assumed it was his face—covered all over with grey and purple stripes. Alright. Fair enough. He could live with that. It wasn’t that bad, actually—it would just be…interesting. He tried to remember if he’d ever worn makeup all over his face. Not really—well, okay, some grease and suchlike to darken his face, but never with a design, with an intent to be noticed. He’d certainly never worn a wig before—and it had been suggested. Oh, it had been suggested. By so many different people, for so many different reasons, at so many different times.
Batholith was not vain. He kept himself clean because it felt good, he kept himself smelling good, or at least neutral, because it smelled nice, and he worked out because he liked to be able to defend himself in a scrap. He didn’t really care about his appearance, though. It wasn’t that he didn’t like how he looked—although in the past he certainly had hated his own looks. It was mostly that he just didn’t care. However, the one exception to this rule was his hair. He loved his hair. He was proud of his hair. He loved the way it looked, he loved the way it felt, he loved how thick it was, the color, the way it shone after a shower, the scent of his favorite shampoo. He’d never cut his hair. Not once. He’d even been threatened with a haircut on more than one occasion as punishment for some transgression. But he had never cut his hair. Not once. And even though his hair was the most—okay, the second-most distinct feature of his, he’d never covered it. He was a wanted man (by members of the criminal underground), but he still refused to cover his beautiful crimson hair.
But it was Haunted Hallows. And it was for a costume. And there was a kid trying to convince him! Eh, he’d go along with it.
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:34 pm
Okay, getting dressed early was one thing, as was expecting everyone else to be dressed early. You could get tomato sauce all over your nice, white labcoat, you could get stains everywhere—it was not a good idea. But he hadn’t been willing to argue about it with Frankie, because honestly, what was the point? Frankie would just insist on wearing it anyway, and he’d refuse to change clothes, and he’d just generally make a fuss. Most of the time, it was best to let Frankie make his own mistakes, then pay for them later. It just…worked out better in the end. It took less energy on his own and his parents’ parts, and it allowed Frankie to learn instead of be lectured. There was a lot to be said for that. So if he wanted to get dressed on his own, right now, early, that was fine. There would be no argument from Fena—he could do as he liked.
But getting Batholith up in makeup early? Oh, heck no! “Let’s wait until after dinner,” he said quickly. “That way, when we eat, we won’t smudge Batholith’s makeup.” He looked up at the adults for approval. Seeing a nod from Ra, he turned to Mom. Mom was nodding to him while checking on the lasagna. “We have time. It’s not even six o’clock yet, and no one goes trick or treating until six-thirty at the earliest. Mom, when will the lasagna be ready?” Hopefully the promise of a home baked meal would be enough to distract Frankie. True, it was Mom making it and not Ra, but it would be to Ra’s personal recipe. It would be good enough.
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:36 pm
Frankie scowled, but there was wisdom in his older brother’s words. He was right—they couldn’t apply the makeup yet. The face would get all smudged and dirty. “Fine,” he said. He took the reference sheet from Batholith and set it aside with the makeup. “But you’ve gotta wash your face after dinner, or it won’t stick on as well.”
“Lasagna will be ready in five minutes,” Mom said from the kitchen. Frankie huffed. Great. Five minutes. How could he fill up five minutes? He looked around for some topic of conversation, but before he could say anything, his mother was there, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Hey, sweetie, why don’t you set the table for all of us, then help Ra take the pumpkins outside?”
Hey, that would do it! Frankie rushed into the kitchen, pulled out the stepladder, and collected five dishes and utensils. “You can sit where you are,” he said to Batholith. “I’ll sit next to you, and Fena will sit next to me. What would you like to drink? I can get you a glass or a can of soda or something. We’ve got lots of stuff.” He set out the places—admittedly a little sloppily, then picked up one of the big, heavy pumpkins. Heaving it onto his chest, he carried it to the front door, where he waited for his parent to open the door for him. Ra was slow. When would she be back to normal? Frankie didn’t like this new Ra.
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:37 pm
Batholith handed Frankie his reference sheet and got to his feet. “I can help you take the pumpkins out,” he said. When he got a nod of approval from the family, he picked up one of the pumpkins and followed the younger hybrid to the door. He opened it and stepped outside. It was chilly already, but not unbearably so. There was still light left in the sky, but Batholith had brought a flashlight anyway. He wasn’t comfortable going out at night without some form of light, as well as—although he would get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out—a bit of protection as well. He had a small knife stowed away in his boot where the pressure gave him a sense of security that a flashlight and muscles alone couldn’t give him.
He set up the pumpkin he was carrying next to the one he’d seen outside earlier and slipped a candle inside. He’d ask when they got back in if the parents wanted to light the candle themselves or if Bath should light them on the way out. Either way, no kids with matches.
As he straightened, Bath stretched. “You ready for tonight?” he asked Frankie. He just wanted to make a little conversation before heading inside again.
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:38 pm
Fena followed Frankie and Batholith outside. He felt he had a pretty good excuse to—there was a third pumpkin to put outside, and he could carry it no problem. He waved Ra off with an excuse and lugged it outside, where he set it up on the window sill. He gently shooed Udneb out of the window box. It would be feeding time for the cats soon anyways. He might as well go inside. Udneb glared at him—he’d changed a lot since his previous life, hadn’t he?
Fena looked over at Bath and nodded, even if the babysitter couldn’t see him. “I know I’m ready,” he said. “Besides costumes and stuff. Hey, you didn’t say what you wanted to drink? We’ve got water, juice, and soda. Also milk,” he added, though he had no idea if a grown-up like him would want some.
Fena looked out across the street to see one of their neighbors putting out their jack-o’-lanterns. He waved at them and they waved back. Fena smiled. “I love holidays,” he said. “People are a lot friendlier around holidays.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:39 pm
Frankie set his pumpkin down next to the first one and stood back. Hm, no. It was crooked. He adjusted it carefully, then stood back to look at it again. Yes, that was better. He nodded in satisfaction and gave the pumpkin a proprietorial pat on the “head.” “I’m ready,” he said to Batholith. “I’ve been ready for, like, days! Except for designing your makeup, because that was stuff we had to get done today. But yeah, we’ve got that all ready for after dinner, so I’d say we’re pretty ready.” He rubbed his hands together. It was a little chilly outside, but he’d feel better once they were moving and had a hot supper inside his stomach. With one of Ra’s lasagnas inside, he could face a whole horde of undead! So no reason to worry too much about the cold.
Frankie smiled as Udneb walked past him and back inside the apartment. “Tonight’s not a good night for black kitties,” he said to the fluffy tom. “You really should be inside, okay?”
Frankie followed his brother’s gaze out across the street. “People better be friendly for Haunted Hallows, or the whole thing’s ruined.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:40 pm
Batholith snorted. It was sort of hard to argue about that. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself ushered the kids inside. “Yeah, Haunted Hallows wouldn’t be the same without trusting people.” He knew that probably better than anyone else here. “But I think people are friendly this time of year because they get more visitors. And because it’s traditional.” Honestly, getting a visit from your neighbor wasn’t always the best thing in the world. In fact, it could be downright annoying (or, depending on your neighborhood, frightening). The reason people were friendly around Haunted Hallows wasn’t because they had visitors, but because they weren’t expected to put up with it all year round. It was traditional indeed—you gave kids candy one night a year, and after that, you didn’t have to give the kids a single thing.
He didn’t tell the boys that, though. It wasn’t the sort of thing you said out loud to a couple of innocent kids, and it could get you some askance glances from adults in certain settings, too.
Batholith ended up opting for a can of grapefruit-flavored soda and sat down to eat with relish. The lasagna was delicious, although he got the impression from the kids that there was something slightly off about it. The answer of what was so strange came from Shera and Verity, who explained that normally it was Shera that made dinner. The Chimera had laughed and promised to wash the dishes later to make up for it. All in all, it was an excellent dinner, and Bath was glad to have had it. When they had finished, he took the dishes to the sink and cleaned his face in preparation for the make-up.
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:42 pm
The Experiment Costume was pretty simple. The deal was that Bath was supplying the basic clothing—a ragged shirt, a pair of worn-out jeans, and a pair of really neat black combat boots that he insisted on not taking off for whatever reason—while he and Frankie were supplying the finishing touches. Bandages, fake stitches, and, of course, the makeup. Fena carefully applied the stitches to a few strategic locations—the cheeks, the forehead, and a long one on the neck. They’d had a long debate, him and his brother, as to how to properly bring across the idea of an experiment getting loose. Frankie had pointed out that the collar would hide too much of the makeup, but they needed something to imply imprisonment. In the end, they had come up with the idea of plastic chains, which did actually look pretty good combined with the ragged clothing. After fitting the duct-tape “shackle” bracelets to their babysitter’s wrists, he stood back. “Alright, Frankie, your turn.” He went off in private to get dressed in his costume.
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Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2017 3:44 pm
Frankie got to work with a will, doing up Batholith’s face with a will. He’d only applied makeup a few times before, but Bath was very forgiving. In all, it was pretty easy to get it done, and by the time he was finished, Fena had gotten dressed. Frankie put the makeup away with a nod of satisfaction.
Batholith raised his eyebrows. “Is it done?”
Frankie nodded. “Yup! Don’t rub your face. That’s important.” He wiped his own hands off on a paper towel and collected the rest of their props, the plastic beakers with glowing ooze. “I think we’re ready now.” And not a moment too soon! It was almost six thirty! The night was getting old!
“I’ll do my best,” Batholith said, getting to his feet. At that moment, Frankie’s parents swept in. Verity concentrated on Batholith, giving him her phone number, emergency contact information, and making sure that his flashlight worked. Frankie, meanwhile, had Ra to deal with.
Ra had a camera out—it seemed that they wouldn’t escape without a few photos. Frankie gave a martyred sigh and struck a pose. Fena joined him, and with Batholith looming over them, Ra began to take pictures.
Finally the pomp and circumstance was finished, and the three of them set out, lighting the jack-o’-lanterns on their way out. It would be an hour and a half before they got back, by which time the world had changed dramatically…
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