Wilhelmina Wingely

Chapter 2

Annie Matters

“Don't worry about me, Annie. I'll be fine. Get yourself off to work.”

Annie Matters covered her dad's legs with a warm blanket and handed him the remote for the television. “Now, be sure you take your medication at suppertime, Dad.”

“I will. Go!”

“Don't forget, it's Halloween. I'll be late tonight. Dinner's in the microwave and I left the treats in the front hall. Turn the lights out at eight and lock the door.” She checked in the mirror above the fireplace to see that her black braided wig was on straight.

“How could I forget it's Halloween with you decked out like that? You look great, Chicken. There's never been a more beautiful Dorothy. Even the Wizard will be impressed.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She headed to the door. When she turned back she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her dad, sporting a realistic Count Dracula mask, had wheeled his chair up behind her.

“I vould like to keess your neck,”he snarled. Laughing, he took off the mask. “Scared you, didn't I?”

“Yeah. Just like you do every year. You'd think I'd expect it, wouldn't you?” She bent to kiss him on the forehead. “Are you sure you'll be all right?”

Annie's father shooed her to the door. “Positively sure! Good night Annie. Don't worry about me. I'll have a blast with all of those little trick-or-treaters. Oh, and don't forget Toto.” He picked up the little toy dog off the couch and threw it over to her.

“Right. Can't forget my faithful friend,” she said, stuffing the dog into her backpack. “Good night Dad. If you have any problems. Call me on my cell.”

“Will do, boss!”

Annie waved at her father and closed the door, trying to turn off the little voice in her head that was telling her not to go. Sometimes she felt like the parent. Ever since her dad's accident three years ago at the factory she was responsible for keeping their little house in order. She had taken on the job at Dingley's Department Store after school as a much needed addition to their small income from the disability insurance check that came every month. Since the young age of twelve, which was three years ago, her social life had been on hold.

Climbing onto her bike she wobbled out the driveway. “I should have waited until later to put on these silly red shoes,” she said, swerving to avoid the curb. As she rode down the street she noticed that the neighbourhood was pretty quiet. Everyone is probably having an early supper before the kids take to the streets.

She turned onto Ash and followed it all the way down to Sycamore. The woods here were said to be haunted. Strange lights had been seen and more than one of her friends had sworn that they had witnessed a ghostly presence beckoning them into the darkness. Annie doubted that any of the reports were true, especially today with the sun beaming down so prettily on the old maple trees. She took the shortest route onto the pathway that wound right down to Dingley Drive.

Pulling up in front of the store, she hopped off her bike and hurriedly locked it to the rack. She rushed up the front steps. The automatic door opened then closed, just barely letting her through, and caught her skirt in its grasp.

“Darn! Oh, for heaven's sake,” she muttered, pushing the big button on the wall which was “supposed” to open it. The door wouldn't budge. She pulled and pulled until the material ripped away. “Well, that's just great!” Breaking out in a sweat, and wig askew, she headed straight for the seasonal department. Rounding the corner she crashed right into a big round stomach. Santa Claus' stomach! She looked up. No . . . Mr. Dingley's stomach. Mr. Dingley . . . dressed . . . like Santa Claus.

“So. What have we here?” he said, picking up a wayward braid and staring into her face. “Hmmm? If I'm not mistaken it's a staff member. Now who could it be? Not Annie Matters. She would never come into work fifteen minutes late, would she?”

“Sorry, Mr. Dingley. I . . .”

“No need to explain, Miss Matters. I certainly am in no rush to greet all of those little trick-or-treaters who will be crowding in here in about an hour or so and I'm definitely not interested in selling anything to their wealthy parents who might like to browse around while their children are being entertained.”

“It'll only take me a few minutes to get set up, Mr. Dingley. I worked on the display last night after you went home,” Annie assured him.

“Good,” he said, checking his watch. “I called the Work for a Day agency and they promised to send someone over to help you, but they seem to have taken the long way around too, so, you may be on your own.”

“That's all right, Mr. Dingley. It's all under control.”

“I'm happy to hear that. Good night Miss Matters. I trust that you will handle everything. I'm leaving early tonight. I have an important engagement.”

“Okay, Santa. I mean, Mr. Dingley. And don't worry about anything here.” Annie let out her breath as he disappeared around the plastic pumpkin display at the end of Aisle three. Just like Mr. Dingley to be already thinking of Christmas at Halloween. His main objective is making money, whatever it takes.

How am I ever going to handle everything on my own? she worried, as she pulled out a box of decorations from under the checkout desk. She had stretched the truth a bit when she said that everything was ready. In reality, the black cat banner still had to be hung across the entrance to the haunted hallway that led into her department. Also the giant spook balloons waited to be filled with helium and the witch lamps on the shelf above the screaming skulls had to all be plugged in.

I don't know why Mr. Dingley wants us to go to so much trouble, she thought, bringing the step ladder out of the closet and dragging it and the banner over to the entrance. The kids usually hang out for an hour but Mr. Dingley never stays around to enjoy the fun.