Will You Be My Maestro?

Chapter 1: Someplace Else

     I struggled as my father tugged me along behind him. Following us was a large group of townspeople, holding flaming torches as they marched somewhat reluctantly.
     "Come on, Elizabeth," he said as he pulled me along.
      He was treating me like a baby, the way he held my wrist, as if I would wander off if he let go. I was eighteen for heaven's sake!
     The path was covered in long dead grass. Flowers that were long past withering littered the ground, muffling our many footsteps. The whole patch of land seemed as if it hadn't been cared for in years.
      As we reached the familiar gate, we paused. It towered over us, making it look even more intimidating than it already did. We carefully peered through the cold iron bars. Awaiting our eyes was a mansion, tall and dark, even more chilling than I had expected.
      I had been there before, though it had always been relatively light outside. Never before had I seen such a sight; just one glance sent shivers dancing down my spine.
     I looked back at the younger kids, the ones I babysat, Luke and Thomas, and saw that they were not happy to be here.
      Luke was only eight, with short ginger hair that matched his freckled face. Thomas' dark complexion made Luke's fair skin seem even paler.
     Thomas was nine and had short black hair. He and Luke were great friends, but they got along with me pretty well, too.
      We loved to visit the mansion, but when half the town is with us, carrying torches, we were scared. What was Dad going to do?
     The name plate seemed to gleam tauntingly, mocking us all. 'SOMEPLACE ELSE', it read and when my father's eyes scanned over it, he sneered in disgust.
      In his opinion, everything and everyone had to be perfectly normal, and if anything, no matter how small, was out of place or seemed odd, he would go out of his way to return 'his town' to peace.
     You see, he was the Mayor of a small town called Normal Valley. The name fit his personality. He was average. Or in other words, he was boring. That was probably why Mom had left. If only she had taken me with her.
      "Why don't we just leave him alone?" Thomas suggested, looking pleadingly at his mother.
     "Yeah, he hasn't done anything," Luke tried to assure them. It didn't work. "Can't we just go?"
      "It's your fault," his brother, Andrew, blamed, pushing Luke, "you just couldn't keep your mouth shut."
     For that, their mother rapped Andrew across the back of his head.
     Andrew wasn't my favourite person. He was almost twelve, but no matter how young he was, he was a bully. He never stopped picking on Luke.
      "He did the right thing," their mother insisted, looking at my father, as he stared at the house with hatred burning in his eyes.
     "He's a weirdo. There's no place in this town for weirdoes," he spat.
      Just as the words left his mouth, lightning cracked above us, lighting up the dark, starless sky. The heavy gate swung open, as if by magic. I could see the torches shake as their holders became frightened by the unnatural behavior.
      Mr. Hunter, a man who was in the front of the group, pointed at the house, his finger twitching rapidly.
     "Th-th-that ain't a good sign," he stuttered, his face frozen in fear. My father just continued to stare at the building before he slowly approached it, his hand still securely wrapped around my wrist.
      We were only a few feet away from the front door when it, too, creaked open, causing everyone to look around, wordlessly.
     "Just like last time," Luke whispered, "it's the ghost."
     "Shut up," Andrew slapped his head.
      "Don't hit your brother," their mother scolded, yet her hand again made contact with Andrew's left temple.
     Thomas's mother rubbed her son's shoulders, speaking somewhat confidently, "There is no such thing as ghosts, honey." When she finished her sentence, even she seemed to be questioning her words.
      Father turned to my friends and I, looking me deeply in the eyes, "I'm gonna prove it to ya, kids," he muttered, then turned to the crowd, "Let's go."
     As our feet carried us closer, Ms. Warbler, a nervous-looking woman who was standing next to Thomas's mom spoke up.
      "Did anyone call and make sure this is a good time? Maybe we should come back later," her eyes were hopeful, though doubtful, too.
     "Yeah like when it's light out," another lady added.
      As we stepped inside, we found ourselves at the bottom of a black staircase. Every inch of the house was either black, grey or blue, making everything seem dull.
     The slam of the old wooden door echoed through the musty air, successfully making everyone jump. That is, everyone but my father.
      An older man at the back of the group tried to open the door, but all he managed to do was wiggle the doorknob.
     A sudden breeze surrounded us, blowing out the torches. The usual warmth that I felt when I had earlier visited was gone, instead replaced by a cold, unwelcoming feeling.
      "Oh, damn," muttered Mr. Hunter, his body scared stiff.
     Father didn't seem to have any sort of reaction to any of that though, as he just continued to lead us through the hall. However, when he tried to enter a room, the door closed.
      It was as if we were being guided through the house to a certain spot; doors would open to let us through, but close when we were going the wrong way.
     We were led to a large room. The fireplace burned brightly, lighting the space. We heard a loud sound from the right, but when our heads whipped around to see what it was, we only saw a black curtain.
      A small crow swooped down, soaring right above our heads, distracting us all. Lightning filled the room, and all of our eyes returned to where they had previously been. We caught a slight glimpse of a black cape as it followed its owner's body into the darkness of the small side hallway.
      I noticed that my father's grip was loosening, so I took my chance to slip my hand away, unnoticed by him.
     Everyone was looking at each other, hoping that they had an explanation.
     Three bolts of lightning lit up the hallway, letting us see the outline of the person, but on the third strike, they were gone.
      Dad tried to get a better view. He probably thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him. He began to make his way over to where we had seen the person, closely followed by the crowd and I.
     With one final crash from the weather outside, the hallway was revealed again, but this time, instead of just an outline, a skull, covered slightly by a cloak, popped up in front of us, causing my heart to beat wildly and everyone behind me to scream.
      It came closer, making us all back away, some cowering against others.
     It stopped and waited for a moment, observing us, until its face slid down, revealing himself to be a man holding a mask.
     I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth as I saw his familiar face. He must have noticed, for his deep brown eyes met mine and I could tell he was smirking behind the mask, which he held in front of his mouth.
      As soon as he had removed his mask, sighs of relief had come from the townspeople.
     He revealed the rest of his face, asking teasingly, "Did I scare you?" To which they all nodded vigorously.
     "That's him mom, that's the gho-," Thomas tried to say to his mother, but she shushed him.
      "Hi," Luke smiled at the Maestro.
     Since my father would have been furious if I had said anything, I just smiled at him kindly, shaking my head. He did scare me a bit, but it was fun to tell him the opposite, just to see him smile knowingly.
      "Well you didn't scare me," Dad spoke, stepping up. "Maybe you scared them, but you didn't scare me."
     Of course, both the Maestro and I had seen him jump, even the slightest bit. We knew that he had been startled.
      "Well, that's too bad isn't it? I guess I have to try harder next time," the Maestro smiled, seeing through his lies.
     He moved to place his mask on one of the dust covered chairs.
     "There won't be a next time," Father told him, ice in his tone.
      "Oh really?" the Maestro asked doubtfully.
     "Oh really," came his reply.
     "No next time, huh?" he questioned, removing his cloak and placing it beside his mask. He was wearing a clean baggy white dress shirt, which stood out in contrast to his dark surroundings. "Why is that?"
      "We want you out of town," Dad spoke bravely, though in my mind he was still a coward. I looked at the Maestro apologetically, letting him know that I didn't feel the same way as my father. The townspeople didn't seem too persistent, but they didn't oppose. "We have a nice normal town, normal people," he said, walking around a bit. "Normal kids," he briefly looked back at me, "and we don't need freaks like you telling them ghost stories."
      The Maestro just walked to the center of the room, rubbing his hands together.
     "So you don't believe in ghosts?" he asked.
     "I do," Thomas cut in, smiling at the Maestro.
     "Me too," came the voice of a cowering lady.
      "Hush up," Thomas's mother spoke up, turning to the Maestro. "You see what you've done? Aren't you ashamed? Young people are impressionable." She was going to go on, but Luke interrupted.
      "Show them the neat stuff you did for us!" When he said that, his brother slapped his head again.
     "Shut up, that's supposed to be a secret," Andrew complained, causing their mother to hit Andrew.
      "Don't hit your brother." What she didn't expect was to feel a strong sudden wind blow itself against her head, showing her how Andrew felt. She lifted her hand to feel her right temple, gazing around, shocked.
      We all looked at the Maestro, who turned toward us, his face holding an extremely annoyed expression.
     Dad and the Maestro seemed to be having a stare down.
     "You're weird. You're strange. And I don't like you," Dad sneered, "You're scaring these kids. Living up here all alone." So badly did I want to scoff at my father's excuses.
      "I'm not alone," the Maestro told us, "and you're right; I do like scaring people. Yes, but it's just for fun. Don't you kids enjoy when I do my little, you know," he waved his arms, not knowing what word to say.
      Luke, Andrew, Thomas and I all nodded our heads without hesitations.
     "Well the fun's over," Father announced, "Back to the circus, you freak." I looked at Dad in disgust. How could he have said that? "And do yourself a favour, okay? Don't force us to get rough with you. Because we will if we have to."
      Throughout his speech, the Maestro's eyes had been filled with hurt, but you had to look closely to see it.
     The townspeople seemed to oppose to my father's threats. I didn't blame them; I didn't want to hurt the Maestro, he was too kind.
      "You're trying to scare me, aren't you?" the Maestro asked, "I'll tell you what, we'll play a game. Anybody here like games?" His voice was gradually getting louder, until he yelled, "Hello! Game time!" He clapped his hands twice and I could see that this was only the beginning.