Abigail Rhodes and the Secrets of Allanda

© 2013 by Paul R. Jackson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/16/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-4056-2 (e)

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Wednesday, September 1

Dear Diary,

Well, we’re here at last. Early this morning mother and I, along with Mister Nickels of course, became official residents of 104 and 1/2 Grove Lane. Not that anyone really noticed, since we’re hidden behind the Smithers’ house in an old tool shed she’d converted into a cottage. Their great big mansion dwarfs our little house, but I like our place just the same. It is way cozier and it will be down right homey once we get some more curtains, and get rid of the stuff left behind by Mrs. Ferguson, the gardener whose position mother is taking. The old woman kept our new place nice and clean, but, and I feel so mean for saying this, she left a really weird smell behind, like wheat germ mixed with a dash of boiled broccoli. I feel horrible for saying that, but it is true.

No matter, this place will soon be our home sweet home. I even have the little plaque I brought from our old apartment that says just that: Home Sweet Home. I’ll hang it over the kitchen sink as soon as I can find a hammer and a nail.

Our new home would be an even better home if Daddy was here, but then I suppose we wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t gone away. I wish more than anything in the world that I could have both; to be in this nice place and have Daddy here with us too, especially without him and mother arguing all the time. But then I’d choose to be back in the city again, burying my head under my pillow to drown out their arguing just to have my parent’s back together again.

I haven’t mentioned any of this to mother because I don’t want to upset her. Instead I’ll follow the advice Nana used to give and think about the haves rather than the don’t haves.

Besides, it’s hard to be sad when there’s a beautiful garden right outside your front door. Well actually, right outside our front door there is a small patio encircled by a trellis draped with vines, but on the other side of that is a yard that looks prettier than any public park I’ve ever seen. There are violets, tulips, lilacs, petunias, orchids, tiger lilies, pansies and daisies along with various ferns mixed and matched throughout. But the most beautiful place of all is where the roses line the double banister leading up to the Smithers’ elevated patio. The flowerbed at the bottom of the wrap around stairway is dotted with roses of every color; some of which I didn’t even know existed. There are red ones, of course, and yellow ones too, but there are also white ones and black ones and even peach colored ones. Each color is separated into a wicked cool design and in the center there’s a little cherub spitting water into a fountain. He’s so cute.

It all looks totally awesome, like something found on the pages of Better Homes and Gardens, with some of the plushest, greenest grass I’ve ever seen. Both sides of the yard are bordered with more flowers and manicured shrubs, and across from our cottage there’s a gazebo lined with still more flowers and ferns.

Now I know what it feels like to live in the Garden of Eden, at least that’s what the Smithers’ yard looks like compared to our old apartment and I just can’t seem to stop rambling on about it. Mother has told me to hush up more than once. I suppose I’m embarrassing her in front of the Smithers, beings Mrs. Smithers is not only my mother’s boss, but also an old high school friend who is helping mother out with both a job and a place to live. Mother seems embarrassed enough for needing such charity without me going on about how nice their yard is, but I think the parents are too busy to even notice me. And their three daughters, Tiffany, the youngest and the twins, Brittany and Alexa, act like I annoy them. Jeez, I hope not because I really want them to like me, but they’re just so pretty and have such nice clothes that I can’t think of what to say whenever I’m around them. So I end up just smiling and staring at them and look like such a complete psycho that they think they have a stalker living behind their house. God, I hope not because I want so much for us to be great friends. It would be really nice to have someone show me around school when it starts. Being the new kid in school will be hard enough, but it will also be my first day of High School. It’s so cool to finally be done with Junior High, but at the same time I’m super nervous about how High School will be. Will I make friends or will I be sort of an outcast brainyack like I was in my last school? I hope not because I’d really like to make some friends. Maybe if I didn’t do so well at some of my classes I could know how it feels to be like other kids. But mother would have a cow if I even got an A—and I don’t want to upset her. Speaking of mother being upset, I better help finish unpacking before she gets just that. Bye for now.

Thursday, September 2

Dear Diary,

Something is wrong with Mister Nickels. He won’t stop following me around, which would be all right because I just love seeing his furry little face, but he won’t stay out from under my feet and I keep tripping over him. I’m clumsy enough as it is; at least that is what mother always says, so I certainly don’t need a cat’s help to fall down. I just can’t figure out what has happened to my baby boy. He’s usually so playful and now he just looks scared. Yesterday he went exploring and he was just fine last night, but this morning when I woke up he wasn’t in his usual spot, nuzzled up to my neck. Instead he was sitting on my pillow just staring at me with big, worried eyes. It was so weird and he hasn’t let me out of his sight ever since. If I happen to go outside he’ll be practically climbing up my leg. Maybe he’s scared of the Smithers’ big cat, Snowball; named that because he’s white and fluffy. Or maybe there’s another cat or even a dog that scared him because I haven’t seen Snowball even come out of their house yet. Whatever it is, I hope he gets over it soon because he’s driving me crazy.

Friday, September 3

Dear Diary,

A nice day, but a strange one, I went to the park with the Smithers sisters. They didn’t actually invite me or anything like that, but I had been trying to figure out what to do about Mister Nickels when I saw them walk through the back yard and then cut between the rows of bushes leading down into the park. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that there’s a park behind my Garden of Eden. You can see it through the kitchen window, just past the big oak tree on the back corner of the Smithers’ property, where the land slopes down into the park. The houses encircling the area on three sides look as if they are setting on the rim of a huge bowl. On the far side the ground levels off at the edge of the woods.

Anyway, when I looked from my kitchen window, I could see a bunch of kids my age down in the park. They looked like they might be having fun and I wondered if I should go down there and see what was going on. I really wanted to make some friends, but the thought of meeting new kids scared me. I debated about this for some time before I finally decided that I would have to meet them sooner or later.

Of course, in order to do so I had to lock Mister Nickels in my room. I felt horrible for being so mean to him, but I couldn’t have my crazy cat walking all between my legs, tripping me up while I’m trying to make friends. I really didn’t want to be so cruel to my baby Nicky, but it would be so nice to actually have some friends instead of being locked up in an apartment, all alone like I was before.

So, after closing Mister Nickels up in my bedroom with a bowl of milk and some Meow Mix, I assured him I’d be back soon and hurried to the front door. I had to be extra quiet though because mother was taking a nap on the couch. The living room is also serving as her bedroom, since there’s only one bedroom in this little place.

Moments Later I cut between the bushes in the back yard and strolled down into the park, which is really quite lovely. A baseball field to the right spills into the combination soccer field and football field nearest the houses encircling half of the park. Although I say houses they’re all beautiful mansions. Next to the baseball field is a small parking area and on the other side of that short stretch of asphalt are some walking trails that lead into the woods. To the left are the basketball courts and then further along, circling back toward the soccer field, are the tennis courts.

By the time I finally got there the boys had finished choosing up sides for a soccer game. The girls, eight in all, were gathered on the far side of the field where they had thrown down some blankets and were ready to watch the game. As I approached, I tried not to look like an intruder, while silently praying the girls would invite me over. All thoughts of a subtle and hopefully cool approach were abandoned when my attention was caught by a boy who looked to be a little older than me tossed a wave at the Smithers sisters before trotting onto the field. Tall, with wavy blond hair, he moved with an athletic grace, and when he cast a look my way his sparkling blue eyes made my heart skip a beat. He was simply dreamy. I know that sounds silly, but those are the first words that came to mind. I’d never before seen a boy like him, a cross between Justin Timberlake kind of cuteness mixed with the toughness of Brad Pitt, and the way he made my knees weak and my head feel like I was floating, it was like he walked right out of a dream.

His glance my way was brief, but it seemed to last forever. I swore he was going to wave at me like he had to the Smithers sisters, but just then I stumbled and by the time I looked up he was huddling up with his teammates. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. The game started and he bounded up and down the field for some time before the tiny chimes of girls giggling happened to pry my eyes away from him.

I realized then that the giggles were coming from the group of girls seated some twenty feet away and their attention was not directed at the game, but rather at me. I was so embarrassed I could feel my cheeks flush bright red, which made the group burst into hysterics. Glancing my way, they huddled together and whispered among themselves then laughed some more.

I must have looked like a total dweeb just standing there gawking at that boy like an adoring fan or something.

Acting as if I hadn’t seen them, or been star gazing for God knows how long, I bent down to tie my sneaker, which was already tied, then I stood up and walked over to the baseball field where I sat down in the dugout and watched the game from there. My attention was primarily focused on the blond haired boy. He was very good, but there was another boy whose athletic ability demanded notice. He was short and kind of wiry, with tufts of red hair going in every direction. He wore a pair of black cutoff sweatpants that were nearly as grass stained as his shins. His once white, sleeveless T-shirt was also stained with streaks of grass and dirt, some old, some new. Had he not looked so different from the other boys, I would have thought there was more than one of him on the soccer field because he was everywhere; making a pass across mid field one minute, and attempting a shot on goal the next, then he’d be knocking someone down and stealing a pass at the other end of the field. He scored his team’s only two goals to tie up the game after nearly an hour of play. What really impressed me about him was that even though the other kids didn’t appear to like him and most of them were bigger, he didn’t seem to care in the least. He ignored every insult while dodging any attempt to slow him down. He played the game like he was the only one on the field, just him and the ball. I wish I could be like that.

The score still tied; they eventually took a break. I thought about wandering over and introducing myself, but I just never seem to fit in with other kids. They always look at me like I’m some kind of freak or something. Besides, I’d already kind of made a fool out of myself by staring like a zombie at the cute blond haired boy who I later learned is named Travis. So, I just stayed in the dug out and watched.

Apparently the twins, Alexa and Brittany, are competing for Travis’s attention along with another girl. Like the twins, she’s tall with blond hair, but she also has the figure of a grown woman. The beauty and sophistication of the Smithers girls was paled in comparison to this girl. The funny thing was that Travis seemed too occupied with talking to his friends about the game to pay attention to any of the girls.

I started feeling weird for kind of spying on them, but I couldn’t pull myself away. Eventually the boys started playing soccer again and I watched for nearly an hour. The red haired boy scored two more times and so did the other team. Travis got one of them. I was just getting ready to leave when a hair-raising scream came from the woods behind me.

I emerged from the dug out to see a little girl of 7 or 8 running from one of the trails on the other side of the parking lot. Her arms were outstretched and tears were streaming down her cheeks as she ran towards me. All the while she screamed for her mother. Not knowing what to do, I took a few steps toward her while looking around for her mother. There was a foursome of women playing tennis who were showing some interest, so I pointed in their direction while asking the little girl if they were over there. Instead of answering, she tripped over her own feet and fell down. Now it was I who was running. Rushing to her aid, I helped her get up. She was crying more hysterically now. The pavement skinned both her hands and knees. I asked if she was all right, but she was off and running without a response, desperate to get to her mother, who was in fact one of the tennis players.

Following the little girl, I didn’t know what to do or what had happened. Just thinking about it now is upsetting me, but I have to write it down while it’s still fresh. Why? I’m not sure. Somehow it does seem to help to write down my thoughts, at least it usually does.

The girl soon ran into her mother’s waiting arms. From a ways behind I watched in relief. Cradling her daughter, the mother asked the sobbing girl what happened. The other tennis players gathered behind them while the other kids gathered around me. Someone asked me what had happened, but I was too busy trying to figure out that same thing to acknowledge who had asked. Then I heard the same voice ask if she was all right? I glanced over to my left and saw that Travis was standing right next to me. Had I not been so caught up with what was happening, I might have fainted. He was so tall and totally cute. His body was gleaming with sweat, making his muscles more defined. All I could do was stand and stare at him. His jaw was strong, with a little dimple in his chin. A pair of perfect lips set beneath an equally perfect nose. His most striking feature, though, were his crystal blue eyes. Even from the side they made it hard to look away.

When the little girl tried to speak, I finally did turn my gaze away from him. Between sobs she explained that something had reached from inside a hole in the ground and grabbed her. There were claw marks on her leg to prove what she said. While her mother wiped the scratches with a tissue, four other girls of roughly the same age ran up to their own mothers. Each was claiming there was a monster in the woods but the mothers were convinced it was some sort of animal and stressed that they shouldn’t have been digging around holes. Judging from the marks on the little girl’s legs, I thought the mothers were probably right. Through her tears the girl said something that silenced everyone and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. She insisted that the thing grabbed her with clawed hands while walking on two legs.

The crowd dispersed as the mothers gathered up their children along with their rackets and went to their cars. They left me standing there with the little girl’s words echoing in my head: It had claws and walked on two legs. Her statement sent a shiver through me. I felt small and all alone until someone spoke. It was Travis. Like me he hadn’t budged. He was saying something about those woods being haunted by goblins.

I asked him to explain, but the Smithers sisters, who had retreated to the edge of the parking lot, were calling him. Turning back to me, he shrugged. Then, to my astonishment, he stuck out his hand, said it was nice to meet me and told me his name was Travis. I took his hand in mine and told him my name. He repeated it back to me as if tasting it on his lips. Abigail! That’s a pretty name, he said before releasing my hand and walking over to where the other girls waited with exaggerated impatience. I could hear one of them say something that made the other girls giggle, but my head felt like it was swimming and I couldn’t comprehend what was said.

My knees weak, I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. I’m glad Travis didn’t turn around to see what I looked like. I couldn’t believe what had happened, and was so dumbfounded that I wasn’t even aware of someone standing almost directly in front of me until he started laughing. My cheeks turned bright red when I realized the red headed soccer player was standing several feet in front of me. He just continued chuckling in a deep tone that sounded like a grownup being amused by the silly antics of a child. Then he said he could see Travis had yet another fan.

I blushed even more and wished I could stop because I didn’t want to admit to the feelings I was having, even if they were obvious to a complete stranger. Trying to play it cool, I told him that I was confused by what Travis had said about there being goblins in the woods, which wasn’t a complete lie.

He just shook his head and smiled. He knew I was telling a tiny fib but was kind enough not to say so. Instead he offered to walk me home, mentioning that I must be the girl the Smithers sisters had been talking about. When I asked him what they had said, his only answer was that they were not nice girls. When I inquired about Travis, he gave me that deep, knowing laugh again and said he thought I was wondering about the goblins and not Travis. Blushing, I asked him to just answer the question.

He was very easy to like, his confidence putting me at ease, which is sometimes difficult. He told me that for a pretty, little, rich boy Travis was all right. Then I asked him about himself and he told me he was the enigma of Connor’s Grove, which is the name of our housing development: a mansion speckled road that loops gracefully back around to the entrance gate.

He said his name is Liam O’Reilly and he lives two houses down from me in a white Victorian. As we neared the opening in the hedges leading to the Smithers’ back yard, he reminded me about my interest in the goblins that Travis had spoken about. He mentioned this with a knowing smile, then went on to explain that he’d lived here all of his life and had heard ever since he was little that there were strange things living in the woods on the far side of the park. He told me that he’d tried for years to trap one but had finally given up last summer.

I asked him if he had stopped believing the tales and he told me no, he had gotten tired of failing.

Now I was the one laughing. I told him he couldn’t possibly believe those stories and he surprised me by saying he did. Then he went on to ask me if I had ever noticed that none of the pets living on Connors Grove ever go near that part of the woods and most of them rarely ever leave their houses. Mister Nickels immediately came to my mind and the cold finger of fear sent a shiver up my back. Then he said it was nice to meet me and said good bye. He left me at the entrance between the bushes with the hair standing up on the back of my neck for the second time today.

Dear Diary,

It’s very late, but I’m too upset to sleep. This evening the Smithers, Dale and Madeline that is, invited mother and me over for dinner. They are nice people I just can’t understand how they can have daughters who are so mean. I don’t know what I did to make them dislike me so much, but for some reason they do. Maybe it’s because I’m not as pretty as they are, or maybe because I’m not rich like them. I don’t know. Right now I don’t know what to think or do. I don’t really feel like writing, but I’m so upset that I can’t sleep and if I just lay here with nothing to occupy my thoughts I’ll just keep crying, so I might as well write about this and get it out so I can get some sleep.

The evening started out nice enough although I had to be mean to Mister Nickels again and lock him in the house to keep him from following me. Even though I left him a big bowl of food, I still felt horrible. The way he’s looking at me right now is making me feel guilty, but I’m sure the Smithers would not appreciate my cat coming along for dinner, so I had to leave him behind.

Anyway, mother and I both wore dresses for the occasion and I thought we looked nice enough. The servants brought out each part of the dinner. Can you believe it? We had a chef salad for starters and chicken cordon bleu with stuffed cheese potatoes sprinkled with chives. It was all very delicious. For dessert we had Bavarian creme pie. Oh my gosh! I could feel myself getting fat just from eating one tiny slice.

When dinner was over, the grown ups started discussing grown up stuff, and the girls invited me upstairs to their rooms. The way they had ignored me at the park I thought we weren’t going to be friends, but I was starting to think otherwise because they were being so nice to me. I started thinking that maybe we were going to be friends after all. How could I have been so stupid and thought such a thing? They didn’t want to be friends; they were only playing with me like a toy and I just have to face the fact that we’ll never be friends because we’re simply not on the same level. They’re pretty and popular and rich, and I am not, so the sooner I face that the better. But I still don’t see how being pretty and rich would allow them to be so cruel. Just thinking about it makes me want to scream, so let me stop acting like a cry baby and just write this down so I can hopefully get some sleep.

We started out fine. I told them I was kind of nervous about starting school and being the new kid and all, but they told me not to worry, I’d be fine. I actually felt relieved too. God I’m so gullible. Anyway, they showed me their individual rooms. Each girl had so much stuff I thought I was in a department store. There were TVs, computers, video cameras, CD players with hundreds of CDs and clothes packed in closets that were bigger than my bedroom. They all had separate bathrooms with Jacuzzis and dressing tables that looked like they were meant for movie stars. It was all so awesome. I felt like I was in a dream but really I was only dreaming.

We started talking about what happened to the little girl at the park earlier today. I asked them about what Travis had said about there being goblins in the woods. They looked at each other and then Brittany, I think it was, said we shouldn’t talk about it because it would only scare me. Well, of course we had to talk about it then.

By then we were done with the tour of their rooms and had moved on to the guest wing. Yeah, their house actually has a guest wing. They showed me a pair of bedrooms joined by a bathroom. The curtains were drawn tight and the rooms were a bit stuffy. They turned on some lights and that’s when they started to tell me about the strange things that had happened in the woods on the far side of the park.

They began by telling me that things had calmed down over recent years, but back when they were little girls they were forbidden to even go near those woods. They’d never actually seen anything, but they’d heard the stories. Anyone who lived in Connors Grove knows, though it’s kept pretty hush-hush to outsiders. Because I was now an insider, they would tell me.

They made me feel like I was a part of something really cool. I was an insider now, after all. Even though I wasn’t actually a part of the upper class that lived in this cove of mansions, I still at least got to hear the gossip, or so I thought.

While I sat on the bed in one of the guest bedrooms with the three sisters gathered round, I was told that several years ago there was another little girl who came running out of those woods with scratches on her. This girl had more than one set of scratches on her too. There were scratches and bite marks all over her arms and legs. Even her clothes were torn. She said a two-legged creature with claws for hands and rows of sharp little teeth for a mouth had attacked her. A year before that the same thing happened to a pair of boys except they were attacked by a pack of creatures and had to be hospitalized.

I couldn’t believe it. They said it was all true and with each year gone back in time the more incidents there were. Five or ten years ago any kid that went around those woods was attacked by goblins and before that kids were actually coming up missing. I said that couldn’t be true and all three girls insisted it was. Then Tiffany, the youngest, told me that when they were babies a girl, who was around my age and actually looked a lot like me, was found dead in the woods.

No way! I exclaimed.

Yes way! They continued, saying she was found not far from the parking lot lying in a pool of her own blood—Oh God! This is too horrible to even write—but she’d been clawed and bitten to death by razor-sharp rat sized claws and teeth.

This couldn’t be true, but they said there were newspaper articles about the story in the local library. The media had been saying it was a serial killer of some sort, but no one was ever caught.

I should’ve never asked what happened, because my questions sprang the trap. One of them explained that the goblins must have gotten their fill off of that little girl or they just didn’t want to attract too much attention because they seemed to go into hiding before they could become hunted. But every so often they get hungry and climb out of their holes and snatch a kid.

Tiffany said this while standing at the doorway and her words made my skin crawl. Then Brittany, who was sitting next to me, added that they seemed to like little girls the best. From behind me Alexa went on to say that they must be getting hungry again because there have been sightings of them more and more in recent weeks. They’re probably lurking around right now, looking for a tasty girl to snatch. Tiffany no sooner said that than suddenly Brittany screamed and pointed towards my feet. Oh my God! There’s one coming from under the bed.

Before I could jump something clamped around my ankle. I screamed and the lights went off. For an instant it was pitch black. My breathing stopped.

I know I’m a teenager now and I’m supposed to be almost grown up, but I’m still afraid of the dark. Actually it wasn’t long ago that I was completely terrified by darkness and slept with a night light on. I only use that once in a while now, like tonight.

My fear began one night many years ago when I was awakened to the sound of daddy and mother arguing. All I could hear was their angry shouts. Nothing could be seen because it was pitch black in my