Sleepy Hollow

It was the summer of my junior year in high school that my family moved to a small town located on the east bank of the Hudson River, about thirty miles north of New York City. I knew of this place before I even stepped foot into the town. I knew it by reputation, by the stories, by the myths. It was a town filled with legends, tall tales, and made up objects to be feared. I told my mom that moving here would be a huge mistake, but she almost never listened to me. The town went by the name of Sleepy Hollow in honor of the book that made it famous. Some people still refer to it, however, by its original name of North Tarrytown. This was the town synonymous with the alleged Headless Horseman, a ghost rider who chased people down in the dark of night and cut off their heads just cause. It was a stupid story written to scare little children out of leaving their houses at night.

Anyway, I grew up in the city. Small town life wasn’t really my thing. I preferred the fast paced rush of the city and was not looking forward to becoming a farm boy. Unfortunately for me, my mom grew up in Sleepy Hollow and had always wanted to move back but my dad was like me and preferred the city. He would roll over in his grave if he knew we were moving here. It had only been three months since he passed away from heart failure, something no forty-eight year old man should have to worry about. But I guess that’s the way it goes, a perfectly healthy man could have his heart fail him at a young age whilst another man who had spent his life in a bottle or with a cigar could live to a ripe old age. It wasn’t fair but I suppose that was life.

My mom said that moving away from the house where we had lived with my dad was a good thing. She said it would make things easier; the memories less raw. I suppose I could see some sense in that, but that didn’t mean I wanted to move to nowheresville. Needless to say, my mom won that argument and in about the span of a week we had moved everything out and were in the car on our way to our new home in the middle of a supposedly haunted village.

“Don’t look so down, Alec.” My mom chided, pulling me out of my sulky silence. “You will come to love the Hollow just as I do. Believe me, it is one of the most beautiful places on the planet.” She said enthusiastically. I doubted that. I’d seen some pretty neat places in my lifetime and I didn’t think any dinky town who’s biggest attraction was a made up headless guy was gonna beat them.

We entered Westchester County by late afternoon and in no time my mom was directing my gaze to the sign that let me know we were about to enter the town. Granted, the area was lush and had its own charm about it, but that still didn’t mean I liked it. We continued on through the town and to my dismay found it to be even smaller than I had imagined. Small and more on the run down side. We very quickly passed through the main area of town and continued on down a road lined with numerous trees and small houses. My mom slowed the car as we passed by this old looking little church with a fenced in graveyard. I turned to look out my moms window at the house directly across the street but didn’t recognize it as the one in the picture my mom had shown me.

“Why are we stopping here?” I asked. “That’s not the house.”

My mom didn’t seem to hear me as she had her gaze fixed out my window at the old church. I looked back at it and wondered what in the world my mom found so enchanting about it. It was just another tiny building in this forsaken place. There was nothing special about it. It had regular stone walls, a wooden double door, and a semi-tall turret. Nothing out of the ordinary.

I waved my hand in front of my moms face to get her attention. She blinked sharply and looked at me.

“Mom, why are we stopping here?” I repeated my question.

“That’s the Old Dutch Church and next to it is the cemetery.” She replied in answer. “It’s part of the legend.”

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously mom? C’mon, that stuff’s just made up. You don’t seriously believe in all of that, do you?”

“I’ve seen things.” she replied cryptically with a slight flash of a smile before continuing to drive.

I felt a little unsettled at this. What did she mean “she’s seen things?” What kind of things? I shook my head. This place was already getting to me. I needed to maintain control and not let my mind get filled with all sorts of foolish nonsense.

We turned onto Merlin Avenue and pulled into the worn drive of the house I recognized as the one my mom had purchased. It was a good sized two story home set on a small hill at the corner of the street. There were a lot of trees with several even semi covering about half of the house with their foliage. It was nice enough but I preferred our apartment back home.

My mom stopped the car and let out a long sigh of contentment. I could tell she was glad to be back even if I wasn’t glad to be here. I knew this meant a lot to her, that’s why I had agreed to come in the end, but I still didn’t understand it. I guess I was just more like my dad than my mom.

She turned to me. “Well, what do you think?” She looked so excited that it extinguished any thought of telling her my true feelings. I didn’t want to ruin this for her. After all, this was what she not only wanted, but needed. After three months of watching her struggle with grief, it was good to see her light up about something, even if it was something that dimmed my light.

I gave my best attempt at a smile. “It’s cool.”

“That’s the spirit!” She cried enthusiastically, stepping out of the car and surveying the house in its entirety. “This house is perfect! Even better than I remember it being when I toured it.”

I climbed out of the car and looked up at the house too. “Yeah, it’s pretty great. Um, when will the truck get here?”

She opened the trunk and started unloading bags. “The man said it wouldn’t get here until tomorrow.”

I walked over and grabbed the bags from her. “I’ll get these for you, mom. You head on in. I’ll be right there.”

She smiled at me warmly. “Thanks sweetie. Don’t worry about anything, alright? You’re going to love it here. You just have to give it a chance. Trust me.”

I nodded and watched as she headed inside, running a hand through my hair. “Give it a chance” I repeated in my head. I would need to keep reminding myself of that.

I turned to start grabbing loads of luggage but instead came nose to nose with a kid who looked to be about my age with tan skin and messy, sorta puffy black hair that stuck up in just about every direction. I took a step back, slightly alarmed at his huge smile that stretched across his entire face. He pushed up his glasses and stuck out his hand. “Hi there! I’m George. I live across the street from you. I saw you pull in and thought I’d come over and introduce myself.”

“Uhhhhhhh.” I seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Shy, eh? Well, that’s okay. What’s your name?”

I hesitated, unsure if he was truly done talking.

“Man, you gotta loosen up! You’re among friends here! I’m so glad you guys bought this house. The previous owners were a retired couple. Nice enough but not exactly what I was looking for. Made pretty solid cookies though. It’ll be nice having another dude to talk with. We’ll have a blast! Sleepovers, hang-outs, parties-”

“What did you say your name was?” I couldn’t honestly keep up with this guy’s rate of speech. I had only caught about half of what he said and I didn’t know which alarmed me more, the fact that he seemed convinced we were going to buddy up or that he had used the word “sleepover.”

“George. George Truant. So, are you gonna tell me your name or do I have to guess; cause I’ve got some good ones.”

“Alec.” I said quickly, trying to avoid another ramble. “Alec Range. Um, I gotta take this stuff inside but it was, uh, great to meet you, um, George.” I finished with what I hoped looked like a genuine smile.

“I’ll help you with those! That way we can keep “bonding” as my mother would say. She said we’d never get a neighbor who was my age. According to her only old people move into this town and all the youngins are growing up so we’re losing the youth. She sure will be surprised. I wonder why we never get new people here, I mean, other than the tourists. Maybe it’s cause our town’s haunted but still, I mean, there are younger people here. Surely they want to have kids. I mean, why do you think they aren’t having kids?”

“Um, I don’t-”

“Alec! Wait until you see your room! It’s- oh! Who’s your new friend?” My mom stopped short at the end of our walk.

I opened my mouth to tell her I didn’t know who this weirdo was but George got there first. “Hi! I’m George! George Truant. I live across the street from you. Where did you guys come from? Are you guys gonna stay here? You should. I know there’s a lot of talk going around about some stuff that goes on but it’s not that bad. I’ve never run into any problems. The trick is to know the places to avoid. Anyway, do you like butterscotch?”

I felt my brain break trying to find the connection between butterscotch and all the other stuff he had been talking about. My mom laughed and gave George her most dazzling smile. “I grew up here and Alec and I decided to move here after my husband passed away a few months ago. We intend to stay, and yes, I do love butterscotch.”

I don’t know how my mom did it. Somehow she was able to keep track of everything he was saying.

“Great! I was just telling your son about all the fun stuff we could do together! I’m sorry for your loss. My Mother made you guys cookies! They’re butterscotch so that’s why I asked.”

“Oh how sweet! Thank you George. Would you like to come in? The house isn’t furnished yet but you’re more than welcome.”

“I’d love to but I promised my mom I’d hurry back so I should probably go. I’ll stop by tomorrow though and bring you those cookies. It was nice to meet you Ms. Range. See you tomorrow! See ya Alec!”

He waved enthusiastically and started back down the drive leaving my mom smiling and me in a state of utter confusion with my hand held up somewhere between a wave and a face rub.