Grim Business

Chapter Three

Branches crackled underfoot, the soft moonlight filtering through the trees and forming fanciful patterns on the damp, leaf-covered ground. It was a full moon, and one could see all the different shadows drifting in and out of the trees. To most people, this would be frightening, but Phoebe wasn’t bothered. Maybe it was because of her name—Phoebe being the name of the female Titan associated with the moon—but she had always enjoyed moonlit nights like this one, and walks in the woods often settled her nerves after a long, stressful day.

Up ahead, a shape began forming. It was an old treehouse—it had been there since Phoebe was just a tiny tot, but it had been dilapidated and crumbling back then. She and her friends had spent many summers rebuilding and personalizing the old treehouse to suit their own needs and meeting there as often as they could. It was a bit later than usual for them to be meeting, but Phoebe was still stressing about her father and she needed some input from Dru and Rambo.

As soon as Phoebe reached the house, she moved to grab the dangling rope ladder, pulling herself up into the house. It was a nice sort of hangout; there were beanbags situated throughout—three of them, one for each—and books, magazines and mix-tapes decorating the floor. Old brightly colored scarves hung on rusted hooks above the windows, giving the place a homey feeling. For light, they had an old gas lantern they’d found in a junk-yard. They had cleaned it up and filled it with kerosene, and it worked like a charm. She turned this on now, lighting up the old treehouse before climbing into one of the beanbags.

Phoebe wrapped her arms tightly about herself, feeling a light chill in the late October air. Halloween would be upon them soon, she knew, and then they’d be heralding in the Christmas season with snows and wind storms. She wasn’t looking forward to the cold weather at all, but at least Halloween would be over and everyone would be singing Jingle Bells instead of calling her Lady Death.

A sound of movement caught her attention, and a bright red head peeked up from the ladder leading up to the door of the treehouse, followed shortly by narrow shoulders and long legs. “I got your SOS,” Dru said as she moved over to Phoebe’s beanbag and wrapped a slender arm around her shoulders. “What’s up?”

Rambo cursed as he struggled to get his entire body up into the lighthouse. He was so tall and ungainly that he struggled far more than the girls did when it came to getting into the house, something they took a great deal of pleasure in. When they were younger, he used to race them to the ladder and into the house and he would always win, but ever since his growth spurt, he could barely get in, let alone beat them in a race. Finally, he plopped down on the floor and heaved a relieved sigh. “Damn, that gets harder every day. What’s the matter, Pheebs?” he said, grinning at her as he moved to join Dru by Phoebe.

“My dad,” she said, “He’s home.”

“What? But Pheebs, that’s great news!” Dru said, moving her arm in reproach, as if offended that Phoebe would dare make her feel bad for her over nothing.

“No, that’s not the bad part,” Phoebe said, rolling her eyes and smiling despite herself.

“Then what is it? Is he alright?” Rambo asked, his voice oozing concern. He did comforting a lot better than Dru most of the time, and Phoebe was thankful for his mellow nature. You could count on Dru to snap you out of a funk, but Rambo would pull you out gently by the hand.

“He’s fine…at least, I think so.” Phoebe sighed, standing and beginning to pace the treehouse. The eyes of her friends were following her, waiting for her to say more. “It’s just…do either of you have any idea what he does for a living?”

Dru and Rambo exchanged a look, then Dru shrugged. “Isn’t he some kind of businessman? I always thought he was a CEO or some other kind of executive.”