Chapter 19b: The Legend of Primenet Com

(A Special Halloween Chapter)

"Well, it's certainly not what I was expecting," ade said, hitting hard on the 'I'.

"Nor I," countered jdean, her partner in Ye Olde Lower-Case Shoppe, a second-hand store off the main dirt road in Primenet. "He claimed we were to be much more important, yet here we are, in God's good grace, with little but a walk-on cameo part."

"Well, at least you got two lines, against my but one."

"Nonsense," jdean scorned, "just then was your second."

"And that your third!"

"And that yours!"

"It was NEVER."

"Four!"

he women of the town had gathered in the bye-meeting hall. The squirrels and chipmunks of the hollow were promising a hard winter, and the ladies had met in order to get a jump on the next month's rumor production. The fire burned in the stove, and the knitting needles flew, occasionally sproinging in the wall like javelins.

"So, have you heard the latest about him tonight?" asked Sonja, carefully placing a just-completed rumor on the square stack in the corner. "He let out his class early, instructing of the students that he was meeting with a lady this evening."

"Get out of town," gasped Eyrika. "A date? Old Nickabod?"

"That's what I hear. I got it straight from Brad Van Brunt himself."

"Brad? You've spoken to him? He's hardly ever seen outside of his home," exclaimed Mama Nan.

"Well, I hear that Ms. Van Brunt has him pretty much tied up," rumored Trey. At this, they all laughed, though still knowing it was probably true. "So, Nickabod's going to get lucky, hmm?"

"Hardly likely," said Mama Nan. "He only seems out and about after his classes when he's taking bread with the parson. He's probably at home right now, playing his own instrument, if you know what I mean."

"Well, the rumor is that tonight, he's - let's say - hired an outside musician." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I hear it's the Van Tassel wench."

The women simultaneously gasped, and the sudden vacuum caused the fire in the stove to dim momentarily. "There'll be naught left of him but - but a ghost!"

Rob's loud yawn interrupted the eerie shopkeeper's tale. The gaunt old man had become inured to Rob's protestations, however, and simply gave him the cold shoulder. Helen took it gently from Rob and added it to the growing collection in her pocketbook.

"Longest damned boring story I've ever heard," he whispered to Helen.

"Shh," she scolded. "Look, it appears that we're going to have to hear it if we ever hope to see anything happen back at the Museum, so just humor him."

"Damned boring is all I'm saying."

"Shh."

Nickabod was veritably spinning in his home, fussily trying on one bolo tie after another, determining which was the most fashionable (ed.'s note: none of them). Settling on the silver and turquoise one, he next threw open his top dresser drawer, and scrambled through a collection of about a hundred red Monkee watches looking for any that might have continued to run after the first week (ed.'s note: none of them).

On the top of the dresser lay a white lily, and beside it an opened envelope marked with the crest of the Panderfleshes. The invitation itself, scented faintly with talc and rose essence and (inexplicably) creme filling, was folded neatly in Nickabod's left shirt pocket, over his heart.

Throwing on his Sunday-best jacket, he checked himself once over in the mirror. Removing the underwear from his head, he darted out the door and jumped onto his horse.

He jumped back off the horse and into the house again, where he exchanged his orange shorts for something with a sturdier cut, and remounted his horse, a little slower this time. With a snap of the reins he started towards the woods that lay between him and Ms. Van Tassel.