The Hollow (7 page)

"Have you lived in Sleepy Hollow long?" I asked him.

Ah, well, I never claimed to be the best conversationalist in the world.

"Actually, I'm from White Plains. I moved there about two and a half years ago, with my dad."

"Where did you move from?" I persisted.

"We moved from West Virginia. My dad got a job as the manager for an auto body shop. He's going to eventually take it over when the owner retires. New York offered better money than West Virginia, so we moved." He shifted the book he held from one hand to the other. "I transferred to the White Plains high school halfway through March and graduated the year before last. You go to Hollow High, right?"

"Yup." I gave a halfhearted sigh. "I'm a junior. I can't wait till graduation."

He was quiet for a moment, and then spoke again. "What about you, Abbey? Have you lived here long?"

"Born and bred. Mom and Dad grew up here, went to school together here, and got married here. The whole nine yards. I've never lived anywhere else."

"Wow." He laughed. "I bet you can't wait for college, then, to get out of this town."

I smiled at him. "Yeah, right? Actually, other than moving out of my parents' house, of course, I wouldn't mind staying here. Beautiful parks, scenery, this cemetery… and some of the best pizza I've ever tasted."

He laughed again, louder this time. It was a very nice laugh. "I agree with you on that one. New York definitely knows how to make good pizza."

We smiled shyly at each other.

"I want to start a business downtown," I blurted out. "I already have the store picked out for it and everything. It needs some work, but it has a beautiful bay window."

"Really?" He sounded surprised. "What type of business?" Suddenly I grew hesitant at the question. I'd already said too much. I couldn't believe I had just told him that. Kristen was the only other person I'd ever talked to about it.

"I'm not really sure yet," I mumbled, looking away.

"No? No ideas at all?" he prodded gently. "I find it hard to believe that someone who already has the location picked out for her business doesn't have
any
ideas for what type of business to actually run there."

"Okay, okay," I groaned. "Yes, I have some ideas."

He cocked his head to one side, waiting patiently for me to finish.

I sighed.
Since I've already come this far
…

"I make perfumes, and I've thought about having a place where people can come and get their own scent custom made for them. I've also dabbled a bit in making soap and shampoo, although my last creation was a disaster and it will take a while before I get the formulas correct." The words came spilling out of me in a rush. "Basically I just want to have a little handmade bath and body shop, and call it Abbey's Hollow… in honor of Washington Irving." I peeked over at him, silently willing him not to say how stupid it all sounded. I wasn't up for rejection.

To his credit he didn't even look bored. "I like it."

"You do?" I asked him, a tiny bit shocked. "But what about the name? Do you think it's corny?"

"No. I don't think it's corny at all."

I gave him a tell-me-the-truth look.

"Seriously," he replied with a straight face. He leaned in a little closer to me, and his eyes held mine. "I really do like the idea, Abbey. I think it's great. And the name is the best part."

I didn't even think twice about telling him more. "I have a business plan started for it," I confessed. "But Mom and Dad are pushing me to go to some prestigious university. All I really want to do is take a couple of local business classes, and maybe apprentice with someone who runs their own herb shop. Or go to Paris and see what I can learn there." I shrugged halfheartedly. "I don't want to waste my life in school for something I have no interest in, you know?"

Another thought intruded, and I frowned. "Of course, all of my plans could end up going nowhere. Kristen was going to…" My voice caught, and I broke off. Looking down at the limp violet in my hand, I played with the stem and concentrated hard on not crying. "Kristen was going to help me with the shop. She had the most amazing ideas for the perfume labels and…"

A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye and I hastily wiped it away, trying not to smudge my makeup.

"It's okay, Abbey/' Caspian said softly. "Don't cry. I think it's a good idea to open your shop. You'll be making Kristen happy by continuing on with your dream."

"Do you think so?" I asked, trying vainly to keep the quiver out of my voice.

He nodded gravely and then deftly turned the conversation back to my parents. "What if you compromise with them?" he suggested. "If you tell your mom and dad what your ideas are now, then maybe they won't waste their time planning a different future for you. You never know. It's worth a shot."

What he said made an incredible amount of sense. The simplicity of it made me feel stupid for not thinking of it myself. "Thanks for the advice, Caspian. I never would have thought of such an obvious answer. It was right there in front of me the whole time."

"You're welcome," he said. "Sometimes all it takes is looking at the problem from a different angle. You can always ask my advice, Abbey. I'll try to help whenever I can."

Was I hearing more behind that statement than he actually meant? I couldn't tell.

I cleared my throat. Time to move on to happier things so I didn't drag the whole day down with my sniffling and crying. "Do you want to see something? There's a tiny waterfall on the other side of the bridge. We'll have to walk a little bit to reach it. It's sort of hidden." If he noticed my sudden change of topic, he didn't mention it.

"Okay." He put his book on the ground. "I guess I'll leave this here for now and come back for it."

"No one will run off with it," I reassured him with a grin before standing up. Carefully tucking the flower into my jean pocket, I tried to brush off the back of my sweater to remove any stray rocks or dirt that might be clinging on. I did
not
want to find out later that I had been parading around with pieces of nature all over my ass.

Caspian stood too and once again motioned for me to lead the way. Turning, I led him out from underneath the opposite side of the bridge and we settled into silence as we walked along the riverbank.

"Have you… read anything by Edgar Allan Poe?" I ventured. I had to keep him talking. He would think I was a freak if I just stayed silent the whole time. "I loved his story 'The Tell-tale Heart.' Talk about creepy."

"I'll have to check that one out," he said. "I've heard of 'The Raven,' but not that one."

"'The Pit and the Pendulum' is another good one. Look for that one too," I said.
Am I actually getting better at this small talk thing?
Maybe it was because he was so easy to talk to. And he loved books. Could he be any more perfect?

"I guess living in the town of Sleepy Hollow means that you've read the story by Washington Irving, then, right?" He stooped to pick up a small handful of tiny pebbles, rattling them around gently as he spoke.

"Are you kidding me? They teach it in first grade at the elementary school. This town
idolizes
Mr. Irving. His other stories were good, but nothing can top 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.'"

"I think it's cool that his house is near here. Talk about truly loving the town you live in."

I nodded my agreement. "He's buried here too. On a hillside in the Irving family plot." I paused to turn back and point in the general direction of the cemetery. "I stop by there a lot. I'll have to show it to you sometime."

"It's a date," he said softly, catching my eye.

"Okay. It's a date," I repeated back to him. The butterflies started swimming around in my stomach again, and I felt my cheeks start to burn. I ducked under a low-hanging tree branch, holding on to my hat with one hand while also trying to slow my racing heart.

Inhale and exhale. Think calm, cool thoughts.
What he'd said was no big deal. It wasn't even an official I'11-pick-you-up-and-we'11-go-to-dinner date. I was simply going to show him an old tombstone. No big deal.

So then why did I feel like hyperventilating?

He interrupted my mini freak-out session. "I actually have a little confession to make. Wanna hear it?"

I was cool. I was calm. I could answer him now. I shrugged.
Urn, YES!
"Sure. What is it?" I was really getting good at this whole not-acting-too-eager thing.

"I haven't read the story yet," he said.

My brain must not have been functioning properly. That's the only excuse I have. "What story?" I asked dumbly.

He laughed. "You know, the story we've been talking about? 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow'?"

I came to a dead stop and turned to face him. "Wait. What?
Seriously?
You've never read 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow'? Good God, don't let the natives hear you say that. You'll be tied up and roasted for non-book-reading historical duty or something."

He winked at me, and I could almost hear the grin in his voice as he leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "I'll have to count on you, then, Abbey, to fill the gaps in my education before any of them find out. Think you're up to it?"

My cheeks burned fire, but I managed to keep my voice normal. "I
guess
I can… but let's wait until we get more comfortable."

Hearing my words, and immediately realizing all the wrong ways that they could be taken, I jerked back around and pitched forward. I was a freak. A complete and total
freak of nature.

We reached a split in the path, and I led us to the left.

Squeezing between two large boulders, I motioned for Caspian to follow me as I tried to erase my words from just seconds ago. "Like I said, it's a tiny waterfall, but I still think it's pretty neat." We stepped all the way through, and a panoramic view spread before us.

Dozens of rocks had been spread out like giant stepping stones, and water rushed and pooled and trickled from one stone to the next. It ended with a free fall into a basin that was less than two feet deep.

I moved closer and settled onto a smooth, flat rock that offered the driest surface. It was wide enough for two, but to my instant regret Caspian perched on a hollowed-out tree trunk beside me. He tossed his handful of pebbles into the river and they made loud plunking noises before sinking to the bottom.

Then he angled his body so that he was facing me. "So, about this legend…"

A large smile crossed my face and I forgot all about my embarrassment from before. This was
my
story. I knew it backward and forward, and I couldn't
wait
to tell the tale.

"It starts with this gangly schoolteacher named Ichabod Crane, who also happens to be the choirmaster, town gossip, and general all-around errand boy. After teaching his classes during the day, he went from house to house to gossip and tell ghost stories at night. One of the favored stories of the time was about a Hessian soldier who had lost his head and was rumored to haunt the bridge and cemetery by the church. He was named the Headless Horseman."

I watched to see if he was getting bored or restless yet, but Caspian's eyes were focused solely on me. His eyes were gorgeous, and I had to fight not to get lost in them. It took me a second to pick up where I'd left off.

"So Ichabod Crane is happy teaching his little school and being the gossip bringer, until one day he sees Katrina Van Tassel-daughter of Baltus Van Tassel-and falls madly in love with her. Of course, / think he probably fell in love with all the land, animals, and obvious wealth that Baltus displayed, but either way, he was bound and determined to have her."

I lowered my voice and gave it an ominous tone. "What Ichabod quickly realized, though, was that Katrina was a flirt and already had several suitors. The most popular one being Brom Bones. Brom was basically everything that Ichabod wasn't. Strong, well built, boisterous, and full of himself. A very manly man."

Caspian snorted, and I gave him a quick half smile.

"When Ichabod starts trying to court Katrina, Brom plays practical jokes on him. Terrorizing Ichabod's students, ransacking his schoolhouse, making fun of his singing voice… that type of thing. Then it all comes down to a big harvest celebration that the Van Tassels throw one evening. Ichabod is invited, and tries to finally win Katrina's hand. But something goes wrong, and Katrina turns him down. Brokenhearted, Ichabod leaves the party on his old, lame, borrowed horse, to wander home through the dark.

"You have to know where it goes from here, right?" I interrupted myself and asked Caspian.

He grinned. "Keep going. This is getting good."

I shifted my weight to one side and readjusted my legs. "Okay, then… So as Ichabod is wandering home, every little noise is scaring him half to death because all he can think about are all the ghost stories he's been told. When
suddenly
he hears a horse following him. Closer and closer it gets. The hoofbeats echo around him, louder and louder. And then… he sees it. The Headless Horseman-riding a huge black horse and carrying his head on the saddle-is coming straight for him! Ichabod urges his horse on, but the Horseman is just too close, and Ichabod sees him rear back and throw the head directly at him!" I paused to take a breath, and shifted again.

"And then the next morning Ichabod Crane is declared missing, a shattered pumpkin is found beside his lonely horse, and Brom Bones marries Katrina Van Tassel shortly afterward, laughing all the way to the altar."

Caspian looked at me in disbelief. "That's it?"

"Pretty much," I said. "Of course it's much more entertaining when you read the actual story, instead of just listening to the abbreviated version, but that's it."

"So it was Brom Bones all along. There never was any Headless Horseman or menacing rider. Just someone who pulled a nasty trick on a gullible person."

"Well, I wouldn't say that there's not a ghostly horseman. There are always stories floating around about him; Washington Irving didn't just make that up. But I don't think that it was the Headless Horseman who pulled that stunt. I think it was Brom. Jealous, pitiful Brom, trying to make sure he got his way. And he did."