A Guest for Halloween: Redux Edition

What Readers Are Saying

Very interesting take on a persistent legend from a culture thousands of years old that we know nothing about. In a time when writing is populated by vampires and zombies it is refreshing to find a book with a real historical mystery.

-- Stephen Lewis, reader Barnes & Noble

Great tale from the wilds of British Columbia using the idea of a legend that seems very real. Great characters and good descriptions. I liked this book.

-- TJ Flynn, reader Smashwords

A Guest for Halloween

A Lex & Ricky Mystery

REDUX EDITION

by William Henderson

Copyright 2011 William Henderson

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter 1: The Coming Home

It’s my turn, now, Ricky was telling Lex for the third time, as he turned up the music even louder on his iPod, just to annoy him.

Shut up, you wiener! Lex dismissed him like he was brushing off a mosquito. The older brother was busy competing on-line with some guy named RangerBob to kill the most Nazi zombies.

C’mon, Lex. It’s my turn! implored Ricky, as he reached for the game controller.

Buzz off, puke! Lex turned his shoulder away from his little brother. Awww, look what you made me do, you jerk! cried Lex as he punched Ricky in the leg. Here, you killed me anyway. You might as well have it now! Lex tossed the controller at Ricky who had retracted into a ball with his knees drawn up to his chest at the far end of the couch.

Ricky didn’t just want to play the game, he wanted to play with Lex, like they used to. Let’s play Little Big Planet so we can both play, pleaded Ricky.

You always want your own way. I hate you, declared Lex as he got up and walked toward the game console.

Turn it off, Alex, the boys’ mother, Karen appeared in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen.

Oh, hey Mom we didn’t know you where home from work already, declared Lex looking surprised.

Obviously, or you wouldn’t be playing the game until the kitchen was cleaned up like I asked you. And if I ever see you hit your brother again you won’t be playing that bloody game at all! Karen chided Lex. You should be ashamed of yourself. Look at the size of you!

At twelve years old Lex was already taller than his mother and he had the raven black hair and tanned skin that she inherited from her father, a Gitselasu from Kitselas Canyon.

Now there’s at least an hour until supper. Go out and see if you can meet some of the other kids in the neighborhood. Just be back in an hour! Karen commanded as she unloaded the groceries onto the kitchen table.

The boys felt lost since moving to the small town of Terrace in northern British Columbia. The pace of life and number of distractions were nothing like those in Vancouver. They didn’t know what to do with themselves. They missed their friends and they missed their dad. To make matters worse they didn’t even live in town. Their place was out in the boonies several miles southeast of town off a main road, called Old Lakelse Lake Drive. They were told that the house was left to their mom and her brother Jeff, by their grandfather when he passed away two years ago. It was the house she grew up in.

There were a few streets to the west on the other side of the main road but the bush seemed more worthy of investigation. Especially considering the mood Lex found himself in. Ricky found some branch and was thrashing the brush as he tagged along behind. Lex felt guilty for resenting his constant companion. Their new place was one of two lots at the dead end of a gravel street. A large field of tall grass was straight out the kitchen door. Lex wandered aimlessly across the field until he came upon a trail in the bush that gradually climbed the hill before them. They followed the trail through the close bush for a while until it gave way to a stand of old growth Western red cedars, Sitka spruce and Hemlock trees. What little light made it through the canopy nourished the saplings and ferns that seemed to completely cover the forest floor. The boys stood for a moment and marveled at the sheer size of these ancient trees. Their uncle told them that many were over 150 feet tall and hundreds of years old.

Do you think it will be easy to make new friends, Lex? asked Ricky as he swatted every flower, berry and bush he could find.

For you, sure. That is if you ever shut up long enough for anyone else to do the talking, spitted Lex catching himself being nice to his bothersome little brother.

How come you are so angry all the time, Lex? You’re always mad at…

Shhhh, be quiet! Lex hushed Ricky as he instinctively crouched to lower his profile on the trail. Did you hear that? he whispered pulling Ricky down beside him.

Crack, crack, crack, came the sound of what? Gunfire? They didn’t know. Neither one of them had ever heard a real gun shot. It sounded as if it came from over the next rise in the trail. Lex motioned Ricky to follow and they did their best commando stealth moves up the trail to lay on a ridge and crawl up to peer over.

Some forty feet in front of them was a kid around Lex’s age loading a short clip with shells. Beyond the shooter was a clearing about the size of a baseball diamond infield with a rock face a little taller than the kid firing the rifle. A short log lay on the ground parallel to the rock face with an assortment of cans resting on top. The shooter took aim and fired. Crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, reported the rifle. The clip was spent and the rifleman hit only one of the cans.

Gawwd. He sucks, remarked Ricky, realizing too late that he was a little too loud.

I hear ya! yelled the shooter in their direction as he removed the clip and leaned the rifle against the stump that tabled his box of shells. Show yourselves! commanded the shooter as he began to load the clip.

The brothers stood up and revealed themselves to the kid with the rifle.

You know, it’s not polite to spy on people in the bush around here. Besides, you could get shot! Why don’t ya come down and introduce yourselves? he yelled tucking the ammunition clip into the front pocket of his of his jean overalls; standing squarely facing them with his hands on his hips.

The boys moved forward slowly, cautiously. They had never met a kid with a real gun before. Hey, Lex offered a pensive greeting, waving his hand in a short arc in front of him.

Hey yourselves, the shooter returned the greeting. Where did you guys come from?

Ah, we’re new around here. We just moved into our grandfather’s old place down on Crystal Road, offered Lex. I’m Lex and this is my little brother, Ricky.

I’m Tommy, responded the shooter sticking his right fist out for knuckle bumps from Lex and Ricky.

So what grade are you both in? asked Tommy.

I’m going into grade five and Lex is going into grade eight, offered Ricky.

Hey, so you’ll be going to Thornhill Junior with me, Tommy replied to Lex,