Grace

Leslie flicked her cigarette. “That’s not what I said.”

“You didn’t really say anything,” The child countered, reaching into the plastic pumpkin head for a piece of candy.

It was Halloween, Leslie’s favorite holiday. The weather was perfect, chocolate wasn’t in short supply, her quirks were seen as festive, and all the children ran around in costumes that touched back to their imagination and their past lives. Of course, no one was aware of this.

“Exactly. I didn’t really say anything.”

The child tried peeking into Leslie’s house, stretching on her tiptoes to see past Leslie’s legs. It was a small one story home at the end of a short driveway. Leslie couldn’t see her neighbors houses but they were definitely there. She could hear them every once in a while, but had spent the last six years filling her yard with plants of varying colors and sizes. They had all grown to become natural barriers, protecting her from the view of outsiders. It was important. Leslie was only here because it was where the leader told her to go. Someone needed her help, she hadn’t yet figured out who it was but had aided a few individuals with small things. But this was supposedly a big project. It had been six years and the “big project” hadn’t made itself known.

“But you also didn’t say you’re not what I think you are.”

Leslie smirked. “Where are your parents?”

The girl, dressed in a pointed hat and long black dress, fixed her with a gaze. “I don’t know Leslie, where are they?”

The knowledge in her stare was unsettling, but Leslie refused to accept that the little child had discovered what adults had overlooked for years. “Look kid, I don’t know where they are.”

“Ask your cards.”

“What?”

“Ask your cards.”

“I don’t have ‘cards’.”

“Yes you do, they’re in the top left drawer of the desk in,” The child paused and looked back at the house before pointing to the window that looked into Leslie’s study, “That room.”

“Are you spying on me?”

“Ha. I’m only eight.”

“How did you know that?”

She touched the side of her head. “I just know things.”

Leslie dropped her cigarette to the concrete and stamped it out with her foot, keeping the butt under shoe to ensure she would remember to pick it up before going inside. She sat down on the stoop, prepared to have a conversation while they waited for her parents to find her. “Then why don’t you tell me where your parents are, Grace.”

Grace sat down beside her, picking up the plastic pumpkin Leslie had put out with candy for the trick-or-treaters. Grace had claimed it as her own and was picking out her favorite pieces as she thought over what Leslie said. “Well…I don’t always know things. It sort of just happens.”

Leslie nodded, resting her chin in her hands. “I get that.”

“Thought so.”

“I’m still not agreeing.”

“You don’t have to, because I know,” Grace leaned close and whispered, “You’re a witch.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leslie saw a gray cat yawn and then stretch its paws across the walkway. The feline’s intelligent eyes watched every movement on the step and Leslie was too aware of its presence. It wasn’t an ordinary cat and she couldn’t help but fear she was being tested. “I wouldn’t say that. I’m more of a protector.”

“Less fun.”

“No, no. A protector is good.”

Grace shrugged. “I still like the term ‘witch’ a bit more.”

Leslie tugged on her black hat. “Is that why you’re in this getup today.”

“Obviously.”

“Well, Grace, I’m not a witch. I’m a protector,” The cat had moved closer and was silently cleaning a paw, but Leslie could still feel its eyes assessing her. “I keep an eye on everyone. I pay attention. And I know how to help if I need to.”

“But how do you know?”

Leslie sighed. “I know things.”

“Because you have tricks too.”

“Tricks?”

“I can hear people sometimes. Things they don’t want me to hear, or think I can’t hear. Like you want me to stop asking about this because the cat is watching me. And the cat thinks you’re doing a good job even though you’re so nervous.”

Leslie stared at the child sitting on her steps, wondering what exactly had brought her there. Leslie had done her best to keep her life from her neighbors. Only a few knew who she was, and those were the few she had helped. This was the only reason they knew who she was. She didn’t go out of her way to gain clients. They found her when they most needed her and it was often by accident. That was why she called herself a protector. She protected the secrets of her people and protected the secrets of those she helped. It was often frowned upon to go to someone like her, even in the ‘modern’ world she lived in. There would always be some sort of bias.

“Can I ask you when this started?”

Grace shrugged. “You can ask me anything you want to, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you.”

“Very true.”

“But it started when I was six. We went to the park and I could hear my mom thinking ‘bout all the things she had to do at home and how she wished we could leave.”

“Mhm.”

“So we left. I told her I didn’t feel well.”

Leslie was silent again, absorbing what she had said and wondering what else she could possibly have heard. “And it's been happening since then?”

“On and off,” Grace suddenly turned her attention to the cat who sat directly in front of them now. Leslie sighed. “I wish my mother was a cat.”

The cat winked and then brushed against Leslie’s legs. “My mother isn’t always a cat, just when she wants to visit me without me noticing right away. So she can spy on me.”

In one swift motion where the cat transformed into a tall woman with graying hair and a thick black coat. Her brown eyes narrowed slightly. “I am not spying on you, I am checking on you. There is a difference.”

Leslie’s mother, Agatha Monson, sat down beside the two on the front steps. She nudged aside Leslie’s carved pumpkin with a knowing smirk. It had always been her favorite tradition after all.

“Nice to meet you,” Grace held out her hand and Agatha took it in hers.

“Nice to meet you as well, little one. You seem to have found a friend in my daughter.”

Grace eyed Leslie for a moment and then nodded eagerly. “I have.”

“Where are your parents Grace?” Leslie returned the conversation to its earlier topic with a tinge of annoyance creeping into her tone. She hadn’t expected a visit from her mother and the drop in caught her off guard. Not that she had anything to hide. But maybe that was the problem.

Grace gave a devious smile that made the hairs on the back of Leslie’s neck stand on end. “It’s the season of trick or treat, and this is the only place I’ve gotten treats.”

A silence descended over the group. Leslie met eyes with her mother who now appeared alarmed. Neither of them had the same site Grace did and they knew how dangerous someone with the power could be. It was more than reading energies. It was more than reading body language. Grace could read thoughts and with that she was able to discover everyone’s weaknesses and their next moves. It made them a dangerous opponent and a dangerous friend.

Leslie wondered what sort of trick the young child had played and was preparing to walk over to her neighbor’s house to search for the missing parents when two adults came running around the corner, completely out of breath. The mother had red and green streaks in her blonde hair and the father’s dark clothing was sprinkled in white spots as though someone had decorated it with bleach. Which Leslie assumed had been the case. She met her mother’s gaze, both were visibly more relaxed than a moment ago.

“Grace May Sampson, we’ve been looking all over for you. Don’t do that again,” Grace’s mother dropped to her knees, pulling her daughter into a tight hug. The chastised child laughed.

“I’ve been okay mom, I came to bother Leslie.”

Her mother looked up, staring into Leslie’s face for a brief moment before turning her face back to her daughter. The two stared into each other’s eyes and Leslie wondered what exactly was happening between the two. It was clear that Grace was not the only one with the power of sight. Her father stood awkwardly behind them, rocking back on his heels with his hands in his pockets.

“She locked us in our own house.” He said in disbelief. Leslie wasn’t sure if he was actually speaking to her or thinking out loud. He shook his head.

“Trick or treat dad,” Grace responded before rising to her feet. “Well, Leslie I will see you around. Not sure if mom approves of this one.”

Her mother’s cheeks turned pink. “That isn’t what I said.”

“Actually,” Leslie stood, holding her hand out to the woman, “You didn’t say anything. Which is quite the trick.”

Grace’s mother tentatively took the woman’s hand. Her skin was cold and clammy against Leslie’s too warm palm. “I’ve been your neighbor for six years and I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Lucinda Samspon, my husband is Derek.”

“Derek Glee,” Grace added, “You didn’t take his last name.”

Lucinda rolled her eyes, but smiled.

“I’m Leslie. I’m, well, we are protectors. Your secret is safe with us.”

Derek tilted his head to the side. “Secret?”

“Nothing honey,” Lucinda shook her head, “We should get going.”

Leslie sat back down beside her mother and gave Lucinda a reassuring smile. “Trick or treat neighbor.”

“Trick or treat.”

Katrina Thornley is a nature poet and novelist that resides in Rhode Island. She has two poetry collections currently published, a novel, as well as a short story anthology. Her poetry collections "Arcadians: Lullaby in Nature" and "Arcadians: Wooden Mystics" were inspired by a local park and life in her small rural town. You can find them on Amazon now!

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