Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
With whittling, the form was all contained within your hand. But this was a much larger project—the stump was nearly as tall as Bram. At first, he circled it, hoping the form would reveal itself. A witch? But Bram didn’t like the idea of witches being associated with Halloween. Magic and femininity weren’t scary—they were simply oppressed. No witches, then. He ran his fingers along the contours of the stump. It didn’t seem rotten, but you never knew what you’d find at the heart of the wood.
Bram had learned recently that the same was true of people.
When he got a sense of the shape, it was obvious. Bram double-checked that the chainsaw cord was knotted to the extension cord, that his hair was tied back. And that his goggles were on. Then he pulled the cord, and the whirring blade touched the wood—a permanent first kiss.
* * *
“Oh, damn, that looks good,” Moon said. Bram had FaceTimed her to show her the sculpture. “Why a vampire, though?”
He told her about the Casper Road Halloween Decorating Contest and she laughed.
“What, it’s fun!” he insisted.
“Yeah, totally. I’m laughing at the idea of you being in a contest. Mr. Can’t-we-just-call-it-a-tie when you won that ropes course thing in high school.”
Bram smiled. It was true: he’d never cared for competition. He didn’t see the value in investing in someone else’s outcome over your own. Winning and losing didn’t mean anything except the relative caliber of the competition. True valuable competition was always with yourself: how well were you doing compared to how well you could do. Nothing else really mattered.
“You weren’t complaining then,” he said. “When you would’ve lost.” Yeah, competition didn’t matter. But you never missed an opportunity to trash-talk a sibling.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Moon said good-naturedly. “So tell me what else is going on.”
He chatted with Moon for ten minutes or so, filling her in on the charms of Garnet Run.
As he was telling her about downtown, the Odeon, and the hardware store, and his meeting with Mrs. Lundy (whom he’d made a standing weekly tea date with and whom he wasn’t completely convinced had been joking about using her sculptures to communicate with her home planet), the shade in Zachary Glass’ front window rose, and then the door opened. It must have been 6:00 p.m.
Zachary strode down the driveway and crossed to Bram.
“What is that?” he demanded, pointing at the sculpture.
“Aw, you can’t tell?”
Bram was a bit disappointed; he really thought he’d nailed the cape and the classic widow’s peak/fang combo.
“It is an enormous vampire carved out of a tree trunk,” Zachary confirmed, and Bram’s heart lifted. “I meant, what is it doing here?”
Zachary’s dark eyes burned with anger.
“It’s...a Halloween decoration?” Bram said, not sure where the anger was coming from.
Maybe it had been foolish, but part of his motivation behind doing the sculpture was that he thought Zachary would be pleased—he seemed so invested in the Halloween decorations on Casper Road and he loved horror movies. Surely he was a vampire fan?
“Listen,” Zachary said, drawing himself up and squaring his shoulders. He was a small guy, but he certainly had presence. His narrowed eyes were fixed on Bram’s face and when he spoke his voice dripped with poison. He was the opposite of the excited, curious, awed man who had visited Mrs. Lundy with Bram the other day.
“I have won this competition for the last six years and I will win it again this year. I don’t care if you carve every Hammer monster in the world, my decorations have a concept and are highly complex in execution. So just...” He seemed to have run out of words, but not of anger. “Just don’t you forget it!” he concluded, with a finger jab in Bram’s direction for emphasis. It was a ridiculous threat and Zachary seemed to be aware of its absurdity as he winced, but he also clearly meant it. He turned on the heel of his fancy, uncomfortable-looking shoes, and stalked back inside.
Bram stood, deflated. Suddenly the vampire didn’t look so great. It was just a hunk of wood that made Zachary upset.
“OY, BRAMBLE, HELLO!!”
He’d forgotten Moon was still on FaceTime. “Sorry.” He lifted his phone hand from his side.
“Was that your neighbor?” Moon asked.
Bram nodded miserably and regarded the vampire. “Think I should chop his head off and dispatch him?”
“First of all, you stake vampires, not chop their heads off. Second of all, abso-freaking-lutely not. That pompous ass needs to be taken down.”
Bram laughed. Moon always cheered him up.
“No, I’m serious. You’re new in town, you don’t have a job, and you’re all messed up and brokenhearted.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” he grumbled.
“What else have you got in your life but grinding this guy into the ground?!”
“Didn’t we just agree that competition isn’t really my thing?”
“Bramble Aaron Larkspur. There is a time and a place for playing to your strengths and there is a time and place for doing something awesome! You need to take that guy down! I mean, have fun too, obviously. But you love making shit. Just make shit to win.”