I don't really live in Benton proper. But in one of the area's that was annexed around thirty years ago into the township. The local's call the area 'Haunted Hollow' for reasons that have never been explained to me. Many of the houses in this area are simple log cabin Unlike the wealthy people who live in town in creole-style cottages or the middle class people who live in simpler cottages that line the 'Town Creek' section of town. People here are mostly lower middle-class farmers. The descendants of the poor sharecroppers that came to this area following the Civil War.

All of these thoughts filled my head as the old style school bus rumbled down the gravel road. Oh that another thing I failed to mention, the roads here in 'Haunted Hollow' were not blacktop as you'll expect but gravel and dirt. After fifteen or so minutes, the bus came to a stop. Collecting my school bag, I stood up and exited the bus. Once I left the last step, the door behind me closed and the bus roared away.

Before me stood a simple log cabin. Behind the cabin there could be seen a tiny wooden shed and beside the shed a barn. And far behind the barn was a deep, round pond. This was my home, my daddy who works shift work down at Yazoo Chemical in Yazoo City had purchased this piece of property after his twelve year enlistment in the army. My Mommy told me once, that while he was in the army he had pinched, scraped and saved every penny he could for the twelve long years of his enlistment to gather up enough money to buy this tiny plot of land. My daddy was a proud man, and never felt comfortable in owning anybody anything, so he paid for this piece of bottom land in full. The plot even came with a little cottage that he made his castle.

All these thoughts swirled through my head as I walked down the gravel driveway. A few seconds later, I was walking into the kitchen of the tiny cottage. The air inside was warm, and the sweet smell of fresh baked cookies filled the air. My mother, a tall woman with flaming red hair, stood in the middle of the kitchen. My mom governed the kitchen as it was her own personal queendom. The large, wooden spoon she carried in the pocket of her apron was her scepter. The minute I crossed the threshold of the front door, her baby blue eyes fell upon me and taking graceful steps, she strode across the wooden floor and wrapped her arms around me and planted a little kiss upon my forehead.

“Welcome home. Daddy asleep, he's working the night shift all this month. So keep down the noise.” She said as she walked over the sink. She then reached up and filled the old, but polished copper kettle with cool, clean water, she then placed the kettle on the stove and lit the flame. She then motioned for me to sit down at the simple wooden table that formed the center of social life in our home. Smiling, I dropped my school bag on the floor and pulled out one of the wooden chairs. Then folding my skirt down, I eased my bottom down into the seat of the chair.

“So, how was your day sweetheart?”

“Pretty good. I volunteered for something.” I said smiling as I watched my mom waltz around the kitchen. Our kitchen looked like something from a story book. Copper pots and pans that had been scrubbed and polished till they shone hung upon hooks that had been screwed into the wooden walls. Bundles of dried herbs and garlic hung down from the ceiling. Old cooking books, their covers faded and their spines thread bare lined the shelf above the stove. Books that had been passed down from one generation to the next, handed down from mother to daughter. Beside them, one would find old leather bound volumes. Locked away in their pages was the knowledge of herbs magic. These books have been handed down from each generation.

“So honey.” Mom said as she reached into the cupboard and pulled down two, plain white porcelain coffee mugs. She placed the mugs down upon the counter top and then reached over and pulled kettle off the fire, right as it was starting to whistle. She picked the kettle up by the hand and poured a long stream of hot water into the mugs. Once she finished pouring she returned the kettle to the stove, reached over and removed the top from a old earthen jar. She then dipped a spoon into the jar and lifted up a large mound of cocoa powder she dumped one large mound into each mug and started to stir.

“What did you volunteer for?” She asked as she returned the top to the old earthen jar and picked up the two mugs and walked over to the table. She placed the mug down in front of me, before sitting down in front of me.

“The Anime Club, is hosting a dunking booth to raise money you know for like club stuff and there looking for a few brave volunteers. And like, you remember when we moved here, and they were having that thing down the the triangle.” I paused and reached out and wrapped my fingers around the warm mug. The heat from the water warmed cold fingers. Slowly I lifted the mug up and slowly I took a small sip of the warm liquid.

“Okay mom, remember that summer we just moved here. About a year or so ago. We were down at the library, like to get our library cards and to check out a few books. And remember that poster they had, the one with the girl in the dunking booth.”
Mom nodded her head and motioned for me to keep going.

“Remember how I wanted to volunteer for the dunking booth. But the girl at the desk said I was too young to volunteer, plus they already had a volunteer for that year.” I will confess at this point, I was quite honestly lost for words. None of the words I could think of seemed powerful enough to convey what I wanted to say. And that frustrated me to no end.

Mom nodded her head again and took a long sip from her mug of tea. “I remember, you wanted to volunteer for the dunking booth because it seemed like something a normal teenager would do. And we'll I think at this point you want to be a normal teenager, and do normal teenager things. I guess, if you really want to do this thing, I can't stop you. So go ahead sweet heart, give me the permission slip and I'll go ahead and sign it for you.” She said rolling her shoulders in defeat. Then all of a sudden a mischievous grin crossed her face. “Just so you know, I'm totally going to dunk you.”

I could not help but roll my eyes and just smile toward my mom. We kind of had this special bond, ever since I came out as a transgender girl, mom had kind of accepted me as the daughter she always wanted and yet could never have. And well that had started to thaw the icy relationship we've had most of my life. We still had a lot of ground to cover, but we were making up for lost time by leaps and bounds.

“So, given the event is going to be on or around Halloween. Have you given any thought as what you'll like to be? And you know my rules, nothing too revealing, skirts can only fall a little over the knee-caps and above all it must be in good taste.” She said holding out a finger for each condition she rattled off. Kind of reminded me of a shopping list, you know, bread, eggs and milk. Anyway I ramble.

“We'll since its Halloween, and since the Anime Club is hosting the event. I thought about going as a cheerleader. That's always a popular cosplay. I mean go to any anime convention and you'll see a lot of them, its like the third most popular choice of costume. The first being the carbon copy sailor fuku. You know mom, a white and blue sailor top, blue pleated skirt, those extra large socks that you need some kind of special glue to hold in place and some brown penny loafers, and lets not forget the classic, but all too revealing bunny girl outfit.”

Mom blinked and blinked again as she reached down, raised her mug of strong herbal tea to her lips and took a nice long sip from the cup. She then peered back at me and taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it she said. “Okay, I can allow a cheerleader costume.” She said sighing. “Its though other thing I don't approve of, those other costumes. The ones that show way too much skin. I don't care what the popular critics say, or what 'Women's World' or 'Sweet Sixteen' or even 'Tween Disney' say, slutty Halloween costumes are not cool. And Halloween does not give a girl the right to let all of her bits and pieces hang out.” She said finishing her cup of strong tea and setting it down with enough force the wooden table started to quake.

“So, you okay with me going as a cheerleader?” I said tilting my head to the side.
“Sure, as long as it's not one of those tacky witch costumes or something that looks like a tween slut. I mean, we get enough flack as is.” She paused and took another sip of her tea. I could tell she was about to climb up on her soap box and spew another little speech. Steeling myself, I settled into my seat, smoothed out my skirt and decided to wait out this storm.

“I mean every year it's the same thing. We go unnoticed for most of the year, we live our quite, simple life's here in this hallow. Then the week before Halloween, everyone and their grandmother seems to just suddenly remember there a coven of witches here in these hills. And there has been for years and years. And before you can shake your head, groups of thrill seeking teens are stalking through our fields, through our woods, looking for any signs of devil worshiping or animal sacrifice and stone altars they can find.” Mom said placing her head in her hand.

“It's just curiosity mom.” I said smirking. “Anyway,” I said draining my tea. And pushing my chair back, slowly I made my way across the wooden floorboards of the kitchen and placed my mug in the pan of dishwater mom had prepared. Like I said before, we were on the lower end of the social spectrum of the town, somewhere in the gray. I guess you could call us upper, lower middle-class if that makes a lick of sense. Heck the only reason I could even attend Benton Academy was a small fortune my grandmother and grandfather had set aside for my education. I use that term 'Fortune' loosely too.

“I have homework I need to do, and extra lessons in math.” I said turning toward mom who was easing her own cup into the warm dishwater. Mom then smiled and wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug, she held me like that for a good five seconds before turning toward me and saying.

“Aright honey, do your work, and keep those grades high. I know you got a lot going on. So keep at it honey.” And so another day in my life came to a close. I returned the permission slip the next day to the GC and the very next day she informed me that the anime club had accepted it. I was also informed that the event was to be held in the parking lot of the newly opened Sonic Drive In. I Think that honesty is growing in a goodway.