Chapter 31 Aston
Aston
THE PRESENT
Dear diary,
I have a feeling tonight’s going to be a scream.
XOXO
-A
’twas All Hallow’s Eve, when all through the town, the creatures were stirrin’…
“Here, here, little mouse,” I finish softly, a wicked smile tugging my lips as I step fully out of Walt’s station wagon.
Up ahead, the sign for the Crowley-Whitmore Coal Company swings creakily in the breeze.
Beyond it, a ferris wheel rotates against the sky, lit up in alternating flashes orange and purple.
And past that, are the looming ruins of the processing plant and other various buildings that once made up the mining company, fanned by red spotlights that provide an eerie, hellish, hazy sort of glow.
One that is only heightened by the smoke curling up from food vendors, and the thick floor of fog rippling through the property.
According to Walt’s little history recap on the drive here, this mine was where the first discovery of anthracite coal in the United States was made, back in the late 1700s.
Since being shut down in the mid-twentieth century after the river broke through the ceiling, flooding the southern access point of the Crowley mines, and killing over a dozen miners—in turn, leading to the end of anthracite mining as we knew it; RIP—the Crowley-Whitmore Coal Company has been property of the town’s historic society.
Some parts, like where we’re heading now, weren’t at all affected by the disaster, and are considered stable thanks to what Walt referred to as the room and pillar method of mining.
A network of rooms are excavated within a coal seam, leaving behind strategically placed pillars of coal to support the roof of the mine, preventing collapse.
This has made it possible for the town to capitalize on its history, by making it safe for tours and shit during the warmer months, and in the fall, providing a creepy venue for Grady Prep’s annual senior trip fundraiser:
The Harvest Carnival.
And the main attraction? The Tunnel of Horror.
(If I had to hear all this boring nonsense, so do you.)
With my mask clutched at my side, I slam the door shut behind me and tip my head back to watch my breath steam up into the night.
It’s so bright—the moon, full and fat, where it hangs over the outskirts of Crowley—that not a single drop of starlight can be seen. Only white contrails, like a giant beast rose from the surrounding Appalachians and tried to claw the moon from the sky.
Another door slams shut, followed by Eden sliding up to my side a moment later, just as Tillie rolls down the window of the front passenger seat.
“This should be enough to get you some food as well as the tickets for the tunnel,” she says, handing Eden and I each fifty-dollar bills.
I have to hike up my robe to stuff it in my pocket.
Somewhere nearby, a high-pitched scream pierces the air.
Whipping around, my eyes widen along with my grin as I see some guy dressed as Jason chasing a cheerleader with a chainsaw.
Her screech fractures into laughter when he catches her, mingling with the music filtering from speakers hidden around the graveled lot.
I don’t recognize the song at first, until the lyrics register and I realize it’s a punk-ish cover of “Monster Mash.”
“You both have your phones, right? And you’ll stick together?”
I turn a bright smile on Tillie and throw an arm around Eden, yanking him against me. “Of course.” I give his head a little noogie, ruffling his hair. “Where Edie goes, I go.”
An elbow jabs me in the side. “Don’t call me that,” he grouses bitchily.
Tillie just shakes her head at our antics, fighting a laugh.
Walt must say something from the driver’s side, because Tillie rolls her eyes and says, “They’ll be fine. You worry too much.”
Whatever he says in response earns him a twinkling laugh. Shaking her head, she gives us a little wave. “We’ll be back for you guys at ten. Behave, you two.” It doesn’t escape me that her words might be for both of us, but the knowing, narrowed look is for me and me only.
“Yes, Mom,” Eden says.
“Yes, Mom,” I parrot sweetly.
Before I can catch her reaction to that, I steer Eden away. They drive off a moment later.
Outside the main entrance, Eden and I hang back to get our costumes in order before we go in and split up.
Eden, in black ripped skinny jeans and a matching oversized hoodie, adjusts the black fabric bunched around his neck, stretching it over the lower half of his face to line up with the white printed skull features with his own.
His idea of a costume. Not very creative, but then again…
I glance down at the hooded mask I shake out.
Tonight, neither is mine.
Tugging the material over my head, I adjust it so the rubber mask covers my face. I wiggle it around until I can see out of the netted eye holes, before raising the hood of my robe.
Spreading my hands, I whirl toward Eden, the black fabric draped around me swishing and billowing in the breeze. “How do I look?” I say, voice muffled by the rubber mask.
Eden cocks his head. He’s thrown his hood up, leaving just his hazel eyes visible. “Terrifying,” he says flatly, just loud enough to be heard through his own face covering.
“You can’t tell, but I’m smiling.”
He rolls his eyes and starts heading off in the direction his parents went. Hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.
Or rather, my jeans.
It took some convincing, but he finally relented after I convinced him just how good his butt looks in them, versus the baggy ones he’s always so insistent on wearing.
Jogging to catch up, I say, “Soooo,” bumping his shoulder with mine.
He shakes me off, shifting out of my reach. “What?”
“Whatcha got underneath there?” I ask brightly, pinching at his dreadfully oversized hoodie. Gotta pick my battles. “Somethin’ pretty?”
He rocks to a stop, snapping a glare my way that would rival my little mouse’s. It’s downright scary. I can’t see his mouth, but I just know he’s gotta be snarling something fierce.
I round my eyes, smiling innocently. Only…I’m wearing a mask. All he’s got to work with is the droopy white face frozen in a scream peering back at him.
“What? It’s Halloween. If there’s ever a time to experiment…or be your true self, babe, it’s tonight.”
He darts a paranoid look around us. “Shut up.”
Now, I’m the one rolling my eyes. Not that he can see it. “No one’s paying us any attention.”
And it’s true. Families pass right on by, hardly sparing us more than a glance.
Normally, I would be offended to go so unnoticed. But seeing as stealth is the name of the game tonight, it’s a sacrifice I’m more than willing to make.
I sigh. The things we do for love.
Speaking of…
“Here,” I say, shucking up my robe to get at my pocket. Between my trusty knife, the crumpled fifty, a couple Blow Pops, and balled up wrappers, it takes a hot second to find what I’m looking for.
My steps slow to a stop.
Where is it…
“Aha!” Whipping out the black tube, I run up to Eden, grab him by the wrist, and drag him toward the fence separating the parking lot from the carnival itself.
“What are you—”
Faster than he can catch onto what I’m doing, I unscrew the mascara and tug out the wand.
He tries to flinch back when I grab his jaw, pinching his cheeks together. Eyes twitching, he tries and fails to get away.
“Stop moving or I’m gonna stab you.”
He freezes.
“Oh, jeez, not like that. I meant—” I wave the wand, nearly poking him right in the eye, proving my point. I sigh, shaking my head as I apply the mascara to his long lashes.
They flutter, and his eyes redden—watering—clearly unaccustomed to having anything so close to his eyeballs. If I’m not mistaken, his chest is moving more rapidly than it was a second ago. Rising and falling against my elbow.
I’m honestly surprised he gave in so easily.
Not gonna lie though—it’s a lot trickier doing this to someone other than me. It isn’t as if I’ve had much practice. I’m not really a fan of wearing the stuff, and tutorials are not as easy to follow as one would think.
Not to mention, there’s my somewhat limited vision to take into consideration. But taking off the mask wouldn’t just blow my cover should someone walking by recognize me…but it would likely blow his too, if it’s someone from school.
And that’s the last thing Eden’s poor jittery butt needs right now.
“There,” I say proudly. I go to step back, but then reconsider, and lean forward instead to give him a lil smooch on the nose.
Only…I’m wearing a mask.
I forgot.
Again.
“What the fuck?” Eden complains, shoving me away when my mask smushes his face. Somehow, his mascara doesn’t get smeared by the assault.
Fixing his face covering, he glares at me, drawing stark attention to how thick and pretty his lashes look.
Not that they aren’t naturally thick and pretty.
But a little brown mascara really goes a long way in adding some oomph.
The effect is only heightened by the brightness of his hazel eyes and the loose tendrils of brown hair curling over his exposed high cheekbones.
I whistle lowly. “Damn. If you weren’t jail bait, I’d—”
“Do not finish that sentence.” With a huff, he hikes his shoulders to his ears, and storms away. Fists balled at his sides.
I cluck my tongue, and yell after him, “You’re welcome!” Then with a wave, “Enjoy your date! Make good choices! Don’t do anything I would do!”
He throws up a middle finger.
I sniffle and press a hand to my chest. “They grow up so fast.”
When Eden told me he’d been talking to some boy he met online—
Okay, when I stole his phone while he was sleeping one night to see what had him smiling down at it earlier that day—Eden! Smiling! Imagine!
—I was simultaneously offended and impressed.
Offended because he didn’t tell me!!!
And impressed because he actually managed to keep it secret for a whole week. At least according to the timestamp of the first messages exchanged.
(I was worried about him, okay?! And maybe a little jealous…just a smidge.)