Piper and the Gren - Part 2

Thursday October 12, 1995

Piper’s bedroom window looked across the circle drive and straight down Blair Street, giving her a perfect view of the caretaker’s cottage and the old Blair cemetery, its age-worn tombstones sheltered under the branches of countless old oaks. She was unable to see the base of the gren’s tree, but its dark branches loomed behind the small house. They swayed in the cooling autumn breeze and cast wicked shadows across the Old Man’s roof.

And though she took breaks to nap, or to read, or to watch the other children go to and from school, she spent most of her isolated day staring from her window at the crooked limbs, imagining the creature that hid within. She tried to compare the branches of the gren’s tree to those around it, but couldn’t tell if they were truly more twisted and finger-like, or if she was imagining it.

In her dreams that night, Piper watched from a tree branch as a boy her own age threw rocks at another boy that had been tied to a tree. The bound child begged through bloody lips for his tormenter to stop as a stone cracked against his cheek. Piper clapped her hands in joy from her high vantage point. And though she was so enjoying the show, she considered what would be the best way to frighten the children. She could take her time with the rock thrower since the other was unable to escape. He would have to sit and wait his turn. She licked her lips at the beauty of it and awoke with a start to the sound of rustling tree limbs outside her window.

She lay unmoving for over an hour as the dim moonlight slowly crept across her wall. When she finally fell asleep, she could still remember the feeling of her claws digging into tree bark and the slick feel of her tongue against pointed teeth.


Saturday October 14, 1995

“Can I go to the library today, Mom?” she asked over breakfast.

He mother looked up from her coffee. “No, you’re grounded.”

After a few minutes of silence, Piper tried again. “Then could you pick up a book for me?”

With a far away look in her eye, Piper’s mother considered this. “Yeah, I’ve gotta pick up my Prozac at that pharmacy next to the library anyway. What do you need?”

“A book on goblins. You know…fairy tales about…little monsters and stuff.”

Once she had scrutinized her daughter for a few long seconds, Piper’s mother finally nodded absently.

After another day in which Piper stared sullenly out her window, her mother came home with a bag from the pharmacy, but no book.


Wednesday October 18, 1995

“Could you please pick up that book today?”

Her mother nodded absently without looking up from her instant oatmeal.

That evening she found a copy of British Goblins waiting on the kitchen table. It was hard to read and far more boring than she had expected, but she was able to find a few interesting details.

That night, she dreamed she was surrounded by the chaos and mud of a large battle. She scurried among horses and men with strange-looking uniforms and rifles. One side of the battle seemed to be Asian of some sort, but Piper knew no more. Her ears rang from the explosions as she scampered from shadow to shadow. She was desperately searching for someone and terrified that she was already too late. The silhouettes of men and flags flashed against distant explosions.

She squealed in panic as she awoke to the sound of rain against her window. She shook her head to jostle loose the water in her ear, and then remembered that she was dry. In the morning she found what appeared to be the marks left by a face pressed against the outside of her second story bedroom window.


Friday October 20, 1995

“Mom?” Piper asked tentatively over dinner. “Do you think it’s possible to talk to someone who’s died?”

Her looked up from her oatmeal and looked sadly at her daughter. “No, honey, I don’t. But, we’ll see Daddy soon enough. You know he’s waiting for us up in Heaven.”

“Yeah, I know. But…this book says that goblins can talk to the dead.”

“Are those the kind of ideas that book is giving you?” She looked at the copy of British Goblins sitting on kitchen counter. “I think you’re done with that book, Pipe.”

“But, Mom…”

“And I also think you’ve been cooped up too long if crazy goblin stories are doing this to you. You can go play with your friends tomorrow.”

“My friends are back in Indiana.” Piper spat bitterly as she pushed her plate away.

After a long pause, her mother replied, “We’re both making a lot of adjustments,” to no one in particular. “Look, Pipe, I know getting expelled has been tough on you, but….”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Piper’s mother started to say more, but instead turned back to the simplicity of the food before her.


Saturday October 21, 1995

“I didn’t expect to see you out and about so soon,” called Simon as he tucked a copy of “The Hobbit” into his back pocket. Piper slid her bike to a stop.

“Yeah, my mom called off the grounding early. I think she felt sorry for me.”

“Wow,” replied Simon, “I wish I could get my mom to feel sorry for me when I’m in trouble.”

Piper rolled her eyes, not feeling particularly lucky. “I was looking for Toady. You know…just kinda curious how he’s doing.”

“I don’t know.” The thin boy pushed his glasses back into place. A cartoon man asking “Why does the sun shine?” peaked from behind Simon’s flannel shirt. “Toady seems fine, I guess. We don’t really, you know, talk much. I saw him and Ryan heading down the bike path with a bunch of plywood, though.”

Piper groaned. Of course he’d be with Ryan.

Simon, noticing her reaction to the news, smiled. “I’ll tag along if you want. Maybe take the brunt of the insults.”

They found Ryan and Toady on the dirt trail that wound its way behind all the houses on the eastern side of Banner Street.

“Riddle me this, Crack Pipe,” called Ryan as they approached. “Who’s nerdier? You for hanging out with Nerdman, or Nerdman for hanging out with you?”

Piper noticed that Toady didn’t chortle along with the joke as he would have previously. “You are,” she said as she leaned her bike against Toady’s and took a seat on the plywood ramp the boys were building. “Cuz now you’re hanging out with both of us.”

“Yeah, it did get suddenly lame around here. Come on, Toady…let’s get out of here.”

Toady shrugged meekly. “You go on…I…I kinda want to talk to Simon and Piper,” he managed finally.

After a few seconds of disgusted silence, Ryan finally managed, “Don’t go gettin’ all geek on me, Toady,” before pedaling away.

The three children stared awkwardly at each other for a few long moments, unsure what to say now that they had the opportunity, until Piper broke the silence. “Anything new from the gren?”

Toady shook his head. “We’ve been steering clear, pretty much.”

Piper sighed in disappointment. With her book gone, she had been hoping they would have more information for her. She stared into the distance as she remembered the dreams that had awoken her at such odd hours.

“You ok?” inquired Simon as he waved his hand to gain Piper’s attention.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired,” she replied as she wiggled her fingers to shake away the memory of claws. “What do you know about the gren, Simon?” she asked at last.

“Not much,” conceded the taller boy casually. “No one’s ever seen it.”

Toady smiled, “He’s always going on like he’s the expert…but he’s never even got as close as we did, Piper.” His smile faded and Piper knew that he was remembering the glowing eyes from inside the tree.

“I never said I did!” objected Simon, clueless to Toady’s mood change. “I have no intention of upsetting that thing. I just watch and I learn. People get too close, see some weird thing that no one on the sidewalk can see and then run away. That’s it. Now, if you want to talk records…I’m your guy. I can tell you that you two are tied with Erica Jensen’s older brother for getting closest to the gren. And since Toady spent longer in the lead position…he’s the current record holder the way I figure it.”

“Only because I couldn’t get away.” Toady conceded modestly. Despite his humility though, his posture straightened noticeably with pride as he considered his role as record holder.

“Hey, a record’s a record,” continued Simon as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “And using the Old Man’s house to keep you from running is no different than the samurai. When they wanted to make sure they didn’t retreat…they’d tie themselves to a stake during battle.” He smiled at Toady. “I mean…that’s how I’m gonna tell the story.”

“But nothing about the gren itself?” interrupted Piper, bringing the conversation back to what she thought was more important.

Simon shook his head. “I’ve looked it up in the library….nothing. Far as I can tell, there’s no such thing as a gren…well, aside from the fact that we’ve got one just down the street.”

Piper idly spun her bike’s pedal with her hand as she thought. Her mind drifted back to the look of regard that had passed over the gren’s eyes in the moment before it let her pass. She felt the hair on her arms arch into goose bumps. Somehow, the idea of a thinking gren, a gren with some small degree of compassion or at least a pragmatic grasp of the situation was more unnerving to her. An unthinking force that scared kids away from the oak tree was fascinating, but no more threatening to her than a rotwieller the O’Neills kept in their back yard. However, the eyes she had seen…they understood. And now this newly terrifying, thinking gren had taken an interest in Piper. She recalled watching her own window and suddenly a vision flashed into Piper’s mind of the gren crouched in the dampness under Medry’s tree at that very moment thinking about the girl who had said, “please.” Piper stood up and paced in an attempt to distract herself from the image.

“So, who knows more than you, Simon?” she asked.

“Well, my Dad grew up on the street, but he doesn’t like to talk about the gren. He tries to tell me there’s no such thing,” Simon explained as he rolled his eyes. He thought for a moment. “I guess you could always go knock on Medry’s door.” When both Toady and Piper shook their heads, he continued, “And I know Oliver Blair goes and visits Medry every once in a while. He may be able to tell us something.”


Piper considered this, “He’d just tell Old Man Medry that we were asking.”

“Well yeah, that…and he’s a vampire,” added Toady.

Simon rolled his eyes. “He’s not a vampire, he’s just an undertaker.”

“No, seriously,” insisted Toady. “He won’t go near a mirror. He doesn’t even have mirrors in the bathrooms at the funeral parlor.”

“Fine, he’s a really weird undertaker,” reasoned Simon. “That doesn’t make him a vampire.”

Piper listened quietly, weighing her own dilemma. Whatever Oliver Blair may or may not have been, he was certainly an undertaker, and the thought of going to a funeral home brought back too many memories. She stepped onto the bike ramp. “Simon’s right, Toady,” she began playfully.”This book I’ve been reading says there are all sorts of monster things that hate mirrors. He doesn’t have to be a vampire.” She gave Toady just a second to digest this before changing the subject. “Who else would know about the gren?”

“There’s always Critter,” Toady offered with a shrug, still pondering what other sort of monster could be living in their midst.

“That guy gives me the creeps,” grimaced Piper. At thirty-six, Jeff Creedor was the oldest delivery boy at the local Pizza Hut and lived in his mother’s basement two down from the Erdmann house.

“I don’t know,” agreed Simon. “My Dad went to school with that guy and he made me promise never to be alone with him.”

Toady nodded, “Yeah…but Critter says he spoke with Old Man Medry about the gren.”

“He also says he sees UFOs flying signal patterns over his mom’s house,” laughed Simon. “He doesn’t strike me as an expert.” Simon kicked a loose rock up the bike ramp and into the trees. “But,” he conceded, “he is the only one who’s likely to talk to us.”

Toady crossed his arms in the silence that followed. “Guys,” he paused. “Should it be telling us something that the only person willing to discuss the gren is Jeff the Critter? I mean…it took every bit of courage I had to get that close. But what if,” he licked his lips as he stalled, “What if there really isn’t a gren?”

Piper jumped off the ramp. “What? You and I both saw it!” she exclaimed.

“I don’t really know what I saw,” sighed Toady. “It was dark.”

“No, it wasn’t, Toady,” responded Simon. “It was broad daylight. The only ones who thought it was dark was you two.”

“Well, maybe…we just imagined it, Piper. What if we just got scared and saw what other people say they saw…ya know?” Toady twisted his foot into the dirt.

Piper lowered herself back onto the make-shift ramp. “Look, Toady, I don’t buy that. You’re braver than that.” She smiled as she saw Toady look up with pride. “And both of us seeing the same thing? That seems a bit of a stretch, doesn’t it?”

“I know,” conceded Toady, “but Ryan says …”

“Forget Ryan,” spat Simon. “He can say whatever he wants, but I didn’t see him so much as put a toe off that sidewalk.”

The three waited quietly as the wind rustled the leaves overhead. Finally, Toady nodded firmly.

Piper shivered. “And if the only person who is willing to tell us about it is Critter…then I guess we need to go talk to Critter.”

Another silent moment passed as Simon hesitated to speak. “Where’s this coming from, Piper?” he asked at last. “I mean, I know it was scary…but out of nowhere you want to march down to Critter’s basement to figure this thing out?”

Piper licked her lips and recalled far sharper teeth. “I don’t want to go into details…but I think the gren has been watching me this last week.” She paused as the boys made confused faces. “I…know this sounds crazy, but the gren listened to me and let me get Toady. And now it’s…messing with me.”

“Piper…” Simon began.

“For instance,” she continued. “Did either of you climb up the side of my house so you could leave an imprint of a face against my window?”

Silence.

“But that doesn’t mean,” said Toady carefully, “that the gren did it.”

Piper sighed. “You just have to trust me on this. I’m not asking you to go back to Medry’s place or anything. I’m just asking you to help me find out anything I can about the gren. And if Critter knows something…then I’m going to go talk to him. I mean…surely someone who faced down the gren isn’t going to let a girl show him up by being less afraid of Critter.”

She grabbed her bike and waited at the path that would lead back to the street.

“We’ll keep you safe, Piper. Right, Simon?” smiled Toady after a moment, clearly enjoying his new role as protector.

“Well,” Simon began. “’Whose more foolish? The fool or the fool who follows him?’ Huh?” He waited for a moment, but saw no recognition of the quote. “But, all right. I guess someone’s got to save your skin.”

“You can ride my back tire,” said Toady as he pushed up his kickstand. “But, um…can we take the trail through the woods if we’re going?” The other two looked at him questioningly and Toady sighed in resignation. “Not that I’m…you know…gonna listen to her or anything. But I’m…my mom says I’m not supposed to be hanging out with Piper.” His embarrassed eyes drifted to the ground.

“What? That’s so unfair,” exclaimed Piper. “I saved you from the gren and everything.”

“I know, I know,” reassured Toady. “Like I said, I’m gonna ignore it. We just might want to keep clear of my end of the street so my mom doesn’t see us. You know…until this whole drug thing blows over.”

Piper’s jaw clenched and she swung onto her bike. She muttered a terse, “Fine,” as she pedaled down the thin path that lead into the woods. She kept the boys behind her for the entire trip so that they wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.


...Continued in Part 3