Ripples Novel Chapter 3--Revision 3

[ChristopherSea]

I thought I would tackle another chapter Todd and the action is definitely picking up! I have marked up the typo’s and some alternative edits as before. Some comments are in all caps. ‘Movie titles’ need quotes or italicization as any reference source. Here we go:

Chapter 3



After school Tyler had about two hours to himself before his mom got home from work. She worked at Millie’s, a boutique downtown. Her boss Janet would often keep her late, sobbing over her latest failed relationship. Mom thought of this as her ministry to other wronged women and often invited her to church. He got to hear these stories at dinner, prefaced by: Here’s why you should never do this. At least she had stopped adding, “This sounds so much like your father.”

He grabbed a Fresca from the refrigerator and headed to his room to change into his costume. He settled on black jeans and a maroon turtleneck, and then draped the cape over himself. It was about six inches too long and dragged slightly on the floor. He’d have to remember to get Ally to help him fix the length, if she was still speaking to him. Next, he headed to the garage to get the garden trowel and recover the shoe box, which was hidden under bags of frozen corn in the outside freezer.

The garage door was sticking again. He knew that he should take it off its hinges and . He and his dad had worked together on weekly honey-do lists that his mom had stuck to the side of the refrigerator. The list still included: un-stick garage door, fix leaky upstairs faucet, put bleach in A/C, and clean out gutters. She hadn’t added anything new in the last six months. It bothered him to see that unfinished list. Forcing the door open, He located the shoe box, checked to make sure the tape was secure on the lid, and stuffed it and the trowel into his overnight bag. He left his mother a note that he was heading to the church, and went to meet Ally at the cemetery. After their yearly ritual, he’d have to convince her to come to Michaela’s party with him. Standing around alone in a happy crowd was not his idea of a fun night; she had to come.
#

The cemetery was about as ominous as a strip mall. There were no mausoleums, no gargoyles, just small stone partitions scattered over grassy acreage with sugar maples and oaks strategically placed. The plots were all family style like some buffet restaurant. The newer graves had the traditional headstones<,> while the older part of the cemetery was decorated with iron crosses name plaques affixed to them—some only bearing family titles like Grandma. Tyler had pulled out a few of these crosses and switched them around. After his dad left though, he’d returned them to their proper places. It suddenly seemed important that families should stay together.

Ally was late. He hoped she was coming. He checked his watch every few minutes. Finally, he unpacked the shoe box and began to dig a hole with the trowel.

“I can’t believe you started without me.” He looked up and saw Ally dressed in a sheer green outfit with a pattern of ivy running up the side. She had a pair of dragonfly wings on her back, and her blond braided hair was encircled by a tiara of leaves.

“Wow, you look...beautiful,” he said. She never did pretty for Halloween. She usually went for something darker. He had always assumed she was self-conscious—not tonight though. It could have only been the moonlight but her face seemed to color and open up like a blooming flower.

“Midsummer Night’s Dream fairy walk-on costume for Titania’s court,” her lithe dancer’s body twisted in a smooth pirouette. “Are we ready to start?”

Each year since they were nine, they shared a Halloween tradition. They would reenact some aspect of a Stephen King book. Last year (when Halloween was allowed in his house) it was <’The Stand’>. Tyler went as Randall Flagg and Ally was a victim. This year the book was <’Pet Sematary’>. He peeled the tape off the shoebox lid to reveal a frozen chipmunk that had been hit by a car. Ally scrunched up her face at the sight of it. “Eww…maybe we should have gone with <’Firestarter’> this year, or <’Carrie’>.”

“No, I’d have a hard time explaining why I needed pig’s blood to my mom. She already has enough issues. I don’t need to add to them.” He picked up the chipmunk with the trowel and dropped it in the hole he had dug. He began to bury it with the loose soil, patting it down with the trowel. <“Now we wait for it to rise from the dead/’Now ve vait for eet to rise from da dead>,” he said in his best Igor imitation.

“Seems like a waste to use any of the magic that way,” A raspy voice said from behind them. Startled, they spun to see a gaunt man leaning on a shovel. He was angles and bones without an ounce of fat. If a scarecrow could come to life, it would surely look like this; his smile resembled a stitched seam. He wore an untucked white linen shirt that hung loosely over baggy gray tweed pants stopping about four inches below the knee. His two-toned black and white lace up oxfords held a bright military shine. He looked like he had stepped out of an . “Don’t you kids know anything? There’s power for the taking on this night. The veil between worlds might as well be a soap bubble.” He shook his head. “And You…” His gaze took them both in, and he pursed his lips, “you waste it on a chipmunk. I pity the future.”



Tyler motioned for her to get behind him. Crazy man with a shovel was not what they needed right now. They both back slowly so as not to startle him.

He laughed. “I thought you kids wanted to see something. Here!” He struck the shovel hard against the earth. All at once there was a wind that sounded like moaning and smelled like leaves. “Remember, it was your idea.” The abandoned garden trowel rolled off the chipmunk mound. The dirt there began to stir like it had bugs moving in and out of it. Two paws pushed up through the mound followed by the head of a slightly decomposed, slightly frozen chipmunk. It spotted Tyler and snarled. Its back half was crushed but it began to drag itself toward him with its front paws.

Tyler’s feet weren’t working. He remembered every horror movie he’d ever seen with his dad. The monster or killer or zombie or angry toy would the victim. They always stood frozen. He had always thought they were idiots. He would yell at the screen for them to run, but they never did. Staring at this zombie rodent , he finally understood.

The man’s shovel came down with a resounding thud, pulping the chipmunk beyond recognition. “Zombies are nasty things,” he said. “You should use the magic with more wisdom.”

Tears welled up in Tyler’s eyes. “What the hell just happened?” He meant the question to be heard but it came out as a whisper.

“Funny you should mention Hell, Tyler Maltz. Didn’t think you believed in it. Do you believe in it, Allison Parker?” The man’s gaze pinned her.

“Who are you?” her voice sounded shrill.

“Well, I’d say I’m a friend, but let’s not start off with lies.” His eyes appeared to glow with an inner light, though it might have been just a reflection. “You’re barely out of the caves and you want to know who I am.” He rubbed his lost in thought. “I walk between your choices in their ever constricting circles. I remember the forgotten: the taste of moonlight, and tears, and the seed upon your tongue. Magic doesn’t always have to be—” He flipped over the bottom of his shovel admiring the stain, “messy.”

“Look I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but we’re going to leave. You can keep your magic.” Tyler slowly stepped backwards.

“It’s never that easy boy.” The man rested the shovel against his shoulder. His face grew somber. “You’ll be visited by three spirits.” His body shook with rasping laughter. “No, no it’ll just be me. Since you don’t want to listen now, I think I’ll go to that little party tonight. We’ll, talk later Mr. Maltz, Miss Parker. He struck the ground with the shovel and the stench of rot rose from the ground .

Todd, you bated the hook, fixed it to the line and attached the sinker in this chapter. Some might think the Steven King approach is wanting for a novel approach, but I would say that it just makes the story believable and relatable. My only concern would be the connection to these children at the age of nine. Would they have been allowed to watch these movies at that age? Were they nine in the early 80's? If so, shouldn't this story be taking place in the 90s? Maybe, its not that important, but it did make me wonder. Good job overall Todd!/Chris