story [Halloween] Fuzzy Biscuit

[Hippin_in_Hawaii 639]

 
 
 
 

 
Grandma Kelli had always been my favorite family member. I mean, even more so than my mom and dad, both of whom I love dearly, and more than my sibs, of whom there are many. There is no shortage of love in my family, and I know that I’m fortunate in that, but even so, Grandma Kelli was my favorite. That she was the first important person in my life to die broke my heart.
 
It caused some ruffles in the family when she left her entire estate to me. Not that Grandma Kelli was wealthy or anything, but she had a large house on a several-acre property, and had money invested to insure the continued maintenance and taxes. All together, the estate was worth more than a million dollars, U.S. Not a bad inheritance for a twenty-two year old, eh? 
 
My parents were quite sanguine about it and seemed excited for my prospects. My sibs, though… there were definitely some hurt feelings, and more than a few arguments as a result. But what could I do? I’d had no idea Grandma Kelli was planning such an extravagant gesture, and I certainly wasn’t going to dishonor her last wishes. 
 
There were some caveats and provisos and such, which my parents and the estate lawyer assured me were common enough. I was required to live in the house for five years, after which time, I could dispose of it as I saw fit. Grandma Kelli had a long-standing tradition of hosting an extravagant haunted house for Halloween, and I was obligated to keep that tradition alive. And I had to keep her cat, Fuzzy Biscuit, with me in the house for as long as she lived. 
 
I had no problem with any of these stipulations. Moving out of the family home, where we lived six-to-a-bathroom and I shared a bedroom with two sisters, into a mansion all my own seemed like heaven! As far as the haunted house, the house itself was already halfway there. It had that look, a house that had been grand in a former era, but had aged as architectural fashions had changed, and now looked somehow sinister. Think of the house from Psycho, but dial the creepiness back a few notches. It didn’t scream “EVIL!” but there was definitely an air about it which promoted uneasiness, at least from the outside. The inside was warm, comfortable, and inviting. I’d spent no shortage of nights, weekends, and holidays in that house, playing and talking and cooking and doing projects with Grandma Kelli.
 
The first several weeks in my new home were quite strange, and emotionally trying. Every time I’d walk into a room, I’d be overwhelmed by a memory. That was the chair where Grandma Kelli had held me in her lap and read to me. That was the staircase I’d fallen down, and Grandma Kelli had driven me to the emergency room. Those were the drapes I’d helped her sew. And the kitchen, there were just so many memories in there… I would break down and cry several times a day; sometimes from the joy of such wonderful memories, sometimes out of a sense of loss and self-pity, and sometimes just to express my thankfulness for the time we’d had together. Each time I cried, Fuzzy Biscuit was there, rubbing against my ankles, climbing into my lap, bumping my chin with her head, purring in my ear. Such a loving cat!
 
Fuzzy Biscuit had always taken to me. Now that she was my responsibility, it occurred to me that I had no idea how old she was. My earliest memories of Grandma Kelli, and of that house, included Fuzzy Biscuit. I’d have to find out who her vet was, and take her for a checkup straight away. 
 
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“Fuzzy Biscuit is fine. How old did you say she is?”
 
“I have no idea. I know I remember her at my fifth birthday, so she’s at least 17.”
 
The vet looked at me skeptically. “I think your grandmother may have tricked you. This cat must be a descendant of the original. She’s maybe five or six years old, certainly less than ten.”
 
Really? That didn’t sound like Grandma Kelli. I looked at the cat. “Is that right? Are you not the original Fuzzy Biscuit?”
 
Fuzzy Biscuit looked at me and meowed, clearly annoyed. 
 
“You heard her, Doc.”
 
He laughed. “Who am I to argue with a woman about her age? However old she is, Fuzzy Biscuit is in excellent health. If you don’t notice any problems before then, bring her back in a year.”
 
I thanked the doctor, wrestled the cat back into her carrier, and went home. To make up for the trauma of the visit to the vet, I opened a can of tuna for her dinner.
 
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As August was winding down, there came a knock at the door. A small group of old ladies stood on my front porch, all of whom I recognized from previous visits. Grandma had a pretty dedicated group of lady friends, and they had visited many times when I’d been here in the past.
 
“Ashley, darling, so nice to see you!”
 
“Hello, Mrs. Peters. Miss Sanchez. Mrs. Woo. Miss Campbell.” I greeted them each by name as they filed, unasked, into the house. Not that I minded at all! I had good memories with many of these women, and hadn’t seen any of them since the funeral. “What a lovely surprise! What’s the occasion?”
 
“Why, Halloween, dear girl! We have to start the planning and preparations. This is the first meeting, but we’ll be here every Tuesday evening for the next several weeks. Once we get closer to Halloween, we may need to meet more often, and at least a few of us will be coming and going constantly.”
 
“Um…” I began, wondering how to put the brakes on. I realize that I was committed to hosting a haunted house, and it had actually occurred to me that Grandma Kelli had probably had help, but I was not prepared to give up much of my life to the endeavor. Playing hostess to a weekly gathering was not high on my list of aspirations.
 
“Oh, don’t worry about us, sweetie. We’ve all got keys. You are welcome to be a part of this, but we know you have your own life to live. You won’t even know we’re here!”
 
“And how many of you are there?”
 
“A dozen, all told, but you won’t see us all together before Halloween.”
 
While I wasn’t sure how I felt about these women having keys to my house, it turns out they were right; I barely knew they were there. They took over the downstairs sitting room, but other than that, they were terribly conscientious guests. They cleaned up the kitchen after making themselves snacks, and they always made extra for me, whether I was there or not. Honestly, the only thing different was that Fuzzy Biscuit preferred staying in their meetings to hanging around with me. 
 
Don’t get me wrong, I participated. I helped to lay plans, and I worked on crafting items, and spreading cobwebs, and did some shopping for the massive baking yet to come, but I didn’t plunge in totally. Grandma’s friends seemed perfectly happy and competent to handle this on their own, so I let them do most of the heavy lifting. If I were in a meeting, Fuzzy Biscuit would be in my lap. If I were elsewhere in the house while one of the friends was over, though, I’d not see the cat at all until they had all left.
 
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A week before Halloween, the doors opened. Suddenly, my house was not my home, not between the hours of sunset and eleven. Families traveled for hours to attend; Grandma Kelli’s haunted house had a decades-old fanbase. And, as promised, I finally had all 12 of the committee members in my house at the same time. I was surprised to find my mother was one of them; she’d never mentioned it before, and I’d not seen her come to any of the meetings. What a fantastic surprise, though! Something we could do together to help keep the memory of Grandma Kelli alive.
 
“That’s a lovely sentiment, dear,” Mom said when I shared that thought. “You be sure to cherish this time; I know I will look back on it fondly!”
 
Fuzzy Biscuit became obsessed with me. Maybe it was the constant stream of strangers tromping through the house; maybe it was the cacophony of delighted screams, terrified whispers, shreiks, and giggles; whatever the cause, the cat was never out of touch. Literally. She was so underfoot that I took to simply carrying her with me everywhere I went. Since my role in the haunted house was to stand on the front porch, dressed as a witch, and greet the incoming families, having a cat at hand worked out just fine.
 
The crowds were pretty constant, and surprisingly (to me at least), the crowd on Halloween night wasn’t than much bigger than the nights leading up to it. I really enjoyed the whole thing, although I could definitely see that doing this for more than a week would start to get old. 
 
The night passed quickly, as had the last several, and all too soon we were gathered in the kitchen. Mom took care of making a round of hot toddies for everyone. Apparently that had been Grandma Kelli’s preferred libation, although I’d never seen her drink. 
 
“This one’s for you, honey,” Mom said as she sat my drink next to me. 
 
“Halloween!” said Mrs. Woo.
 
“Halloween!” we all responded. Glasses were clicked, drinks were sipped, and much chattering ensued.
 
“Did you see the face on that little girl…”
 
“We should put more candles on the walk…”
 
“My feet are positively KILLING me! Next year, this old witch is wearing Crocs…”
 
As I listened to the assorted conversations, and sipped my drink, a delicious lassitude swept over me. I felt tired, and happy, and almost dissociated from my body. I watched with detachment as the other ladies gathered around me, gently helped me to stand, and started walking me to bed. But we didn’t go up the stairs; we went into the library. One of the bookshelves swung open, revealing a staircase down. Cool! I didn’t know my house had a basement! And did they build the secret door just for the haunted house? Why hadn’t we used that?
 
The basement was a work of art, straight from the pages of a Stephen King story. There was a stone altar in the center, with a large pentagram circumscribed around it on the cement floor. Thirteen wrought iron candelabras stood in a circle outside the pentagram, providing the only light in the room. 
 
They walked me up to the altar, laying me gently down. It was cold, but smooth, and not completely uncomfortable.
 
“I’m cold,” I whined.
 
“Don’t worry, honey, you’ll be warm and comfortable soon. Warmer and more comfortable than you’ve ever been before.”
 
Fuzzy Biscuit jumped up onto my chest, rubbing her face against mine and purring. I wanted to pet her, to hug her, but my arms were so heavy. I struggled against gravity, and with a valiant effort, managed to wrap Fuzzy Biscuit in a loving embrace.
 
In the distance, I was vaguely aware of the sound of chanting. Fuzzy Biscuit was looking into my eyes, and I into hers. Those eyes seemed so deep, so bottomless, like tunnels to another place, and I was Alice, falling down the rabbit hole, and my mom was right, I was feeling warm now, and loved, and so comfortable, resting on something warm and soft, feeling it breathing beneath me, feeling its heartbeat through my tummy. But then it moved, and lifted me, and set me aside, and I was on top of the altar again. I watched as my body got up and moved to the one empty spot in the circle.
 
“Welcome back, Mom,” said my mother.
 
“Welcome back, Kelli” said everyone else.
 
My body nodded to them all, and smiled, and joined in the chanting.
 
I stretched, and yawned, and wished someone would bring me a saucer of milk.

[Krill_300 113]

Happy Halloween,Guys so how was it going this Halloween

 

I only caught 1 gold box  :ph34r:  :ph34r:  :ph34r: 

 

Enjoy the Contests!

[Adab 2,896]

Fuzzy.