Chapter 2: Bob and The Frighteningly Large Marshmallow

The streets of Lavender town became crowded as they rode through the town square and turned South, away from the omnipresent Tower. The old Victorian style homes that the town's populace had dwelled in for the last five hundred years had been decorated for the upcoming event. Carved Jack'o lanterns sat on their wide verandah's, small bits of ragged white cloth had been done up to resemble ghostly figures and hung from the branches of the twisting leafless trees, and everywhere, strings of orange and black Christmas tree lights stood ready to repel the coming darkness of the night.

It somehow seemed strange that the quiet cobblestone streets were filled with curious tourists, wandering about expecting to see a ghost on every corner, but quickly realizing that Lavender was indeed, just another town. But every year, for the last twenty or so, Lavender Town hosted what some called "The Halloween Party To End All Halloween Parties."

It would take place near the foot of the Lavender Tower. A five-story structure that had stood for the last five centuries, and was known as the single most haunted place in the entire world. It cast its long dark shadow over Lavender like a monstrous sundial, an omnipresent reminder of the town's grim past. The main celebrations, however, were to take place in a special field just north of Lavender Town's graveyard. Every year the town's inhabitants brought in papier- m∞ch≠ tombstones, and installed small hidden speakers to emit any eerie noises that the Tower ghosts didn't feel like supplying, as well as no shortage of fog machines to give it just the right feel. They then brought in the usual carnival trappings like rides and stage performances, not to mention the impossible to win carnival games, over priced food, and poorly made souvenirs.

In Lavender Town, Halloween wasn't just a day; it was a celebration that spanned an entire week. Local residents observed a plethora of odd traditions during that time, including setting an extra place at the dinner table and putting out small baskets of food to appease the restless dead. Some either very brave, or very stupid individuals even left the bedroom windows open wide at night, in hopes that hungry ghosts would visit them and steal their nightmares. So it wasn't unusual for the occasional duped tourist staying at the "Tiltin' Hilton Hotel" to wake up in the morning to find himself in need of immediate medical attention, for not all wild ghosts bothered to simply steal and devour the dreams of their victims at their leisure. Many actually preferred drinking them straight from the source.

At the South end of town, the Lilcamp Trading Company, amusingly enough, was located at 1313 Mockingbird Lane, at the far end of the dead-end street, a short distance from the jagged cliffs that overlooked the Eastern Ocean. It was made up of several buildings, seemingly fused together at different points in time by the many generations who'd lived within.

The main building, which was the first to be built, was a modestly sized two- story house, done in the typical Lavender style. The bricks that made up its walls carved from the same odd purple-hued stone that was mined from the mountains and were all but covered in twisting vines in places. The front porch, that also served the house's Eastern side, was covered by a slanted roof and protected by a railing that looked as though the person who'd carved it was trying to make some kind of artistic statement. And in keeping with the season, small ceramic pumpkins sat in every window, soon to surely glow with the arrival of night along with the large real one beside the front door.

The other attached buildings consisted of a large, squarely built warehouse/garage made from painted white stone that connected directly with the Lilcamp's place of residence. Near the roof, a large wooden banner that read simply "The Lilcamp Trading Company" in large purple letters on a white background, had far too much of the paint starting to peel. In of itself, the warehouse was rather boring, except for the small, single story building that was located directly in front of, and connected to it.

The small trading post/general store was like all the others like it, located in nearly every major city on the continent. A small, unimposing shop, made to look rustic with a wide wooden veranda, and walls that made from splitting logs in half that made one wonder how behind in the time the little shop was. It was only the large panes of glass in the windows, filled with products, and signs advertising sales, not to mention the electric lights that lit it up at night that assured one that the Lilcamp Trading Post's were not run by large hairy men clad in animal skins who spoke in grunts.

At the farthest end of the short string of buildings was what appeared to be a hastily constructed, single story establishment with a glowing neon sign advertising its presence as 'The Courier Club'. Even this early in the day, there were nearly a dozen mountain-bikes in varying stages of disrepair and cleanliness parked outside, and the laughing tones of their riders echoed through the two open windows on either side of the door in a gentle cacophony that beckoned further patrons.

"So this is where you live," commented Misty rhetorically as they coasted down the gentle incline of Mockingbird Lane, "What else can I say? Wow."

Miranda nodded, giving a short wave to the driver of the old, rusting pickup that exited the warehouse and drove past them on the opposite side of the cobblestoned street. "It's not much, but it's home," she sighed, leading Misty up the driveway that wound around to the side of the house that faced the ocean before taking the three steps up to the wooden front porch, equipped with an aging front-porch swing, "I just hope someone's actually home."

Misty couldn't help chuckle as Miranda tried the door, found it locked, and had to resort to ringing the doorbell. She even cringed slightly for half a second, almost expecting the bell to be a scream or something, but it turned out to be a simple chime.

"Forgot your key?" she teased as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from within.

"Just being polite," said Miranda with a shrug before glancing at Misty with a bit of a worried look, "That and delaying the inevitable."

Misty sighed, and took Miranda's hand firmly as the main door was unlocked and pulled open by a tall man who grinned happily as he spotted Miranda. "You're here!" exclaimed Bob as though it were a miracle.

"'Fraid so," his step-daughter commented with a small smile as Bob pushed open the screen door, "I haven't missed a Halloween yet, have I?"

"You'd better not!" laughed Bob, stepping out onto the porch without his shoes on, "I think Vivian'd track you down herself and drag out here. Hey, you're Misty, right?"

Misty was surprised to find herself blushing as Bob grabbed her hand and shook it enthusiastically. "It's great to finally meet you," the man admitted before adding, "Well, for 'real' I mean. Vid-phones don't count."

"So, um... Is Mom around?" Miranda inquired, her tone careful.

"Ah, naw, sorry," replied Bob with a sad shake of his head, suddenly shivering against the cold wind off the ocean and quickly doing up the top button on his dress-shirt, "But you can come in anyway. I've got some tea on, and I can show you the new transposition-array we had installed. It's collapsible! And besides, now we don't have to use your Aunt's."

"That must have cost an arm and a leg," Miranda commented, half wondering what the problem with using Professor Laurna's array was, seeing as it so seldom got used by Lav'Brats, "But actually, I was thinking of dropping in on Joy and getting my menagerie their yearly checkup."

"Oh, well that's okay, then," said Bob, his voice full of disappointment, his expression looking glum, "Well, your Mom should be back from the Council meeting in about an hour or so, and I was thinking of having Frank and Laurna over for dinner. I ran over to the market this morning and managed to grab a few things before the tourists did."

"Frank's here?!" exclaimed Miranda, her subdued demeanor completely vanishing as she now stared wide eyed at her stepfather, her glasses slipping down her nose, "He actually came back to Lavender? Please tell me he made up with Aunt Laurna."

Bob chuckled to himself for a moment, a sound that seemed capable bringing a smile to the face of a stone statue. "Miranda, you really have to call home to just to talk more often," he chided amicably as he stole a second glance at Misty, "You keep missing all the good family gossip."

Miranda found herself unable to keep from chuckling. "Alright," she said, "We'll certainly be there. But when Mom gets back, tell her we're at the Club. I want to see who's in town this year. Besides, I owe Zack a favor."

It was Misty's turn to blush as she recalled the arrangement Miranda had made with her fellow courier. Having him use his abra to teleport her old bed out of her room at the Cerulean City Gym, and teleport a new on in, in its place. Misty had never bothered to inquire how much it cost Miranda, but she was certain that their first night upon it had more than paid the courier back for the expense.

"Oh, alright then," said Bob, looking disappointed, "I'll give Viv a call right now. Just don't you two go running off or anything!"

"I can't," laughed Miranda as Bob stepped back into the house, "I'd never hear the end of it from Wraith!"

Her stepfather cringed a little at the thought of the ghost, but managed to smile happily as he waved goodbye.

"He's not from here, is he?" commented Misty as they brought their bikes up onto the porch and walked back down the street.

"Oh? How can you tell?" Miranda inquired, having never really thought about it much before. She knew Bob was native to Maiden's Peak, a tourist town not far to the South where her Father had taken the family many times when she was a child, but it had never occurred to her that Bob was "different".

Misty chuckled. "You don't see it, do you?" she asked rhetorically as they crossed the street hand-in-hand and took the next left. "I've noticed a few things about you Lav'Brats," she explained slyly, "For one, you don't cringe whenever someone mentions the word 'ghost'. And for another, all the native Lavender Towner's seem to have the most peculiar eyes."

"Peculiar?" inquired Miranda curiously, stopping as they stepped up onto the sidewalk, "How so?"