Autumn

Orange leaves gently swayed in a light breeze as twelve-year-old Chris Weaver walked down the dirt road. He kicked up dust as he mosied. The house at the end of the dirt road was red. It had a quaint porch, being swept by Granny Bloche. She wore simple attire: blue jeans and an ankle-length skirt. The orange sun was starting to set as Chris stepped onto the porch. ‘’Where am I?’’ Chris asked.

She spoke into a voice sweeter than honey dipped in sugar. ‘’This is Autumn House.’’

‘’What is that?’’ Chris asked. ‘’How did I get here?’’

‘’You slipped through the tiny rift between your world and mine,’’ Granny Bloche said. ‘’It’s invisible, as you most likely have deduced. Your love for the season and Halloween enlarged the gateway enough to slip through.’’

Her gray eyes watched Chris, a gleam ever-present in her kind eyes. ‘’Care for some cider or a pumpkin muffin?’’ Granny said.

Chris rubbed his chin. ‘’Not hungry or thirsty.’’

Granny Bloche chuckled. ‘’No problem.’’

‘’How do I get back to my world?’’ Chris asked.

She whistled and out came a goblin, maybe two feet tall. He wore blue and had a shaggy red beard. His eyes were green and he stared up at Chris. ‘’Pinch him,’’ Granny Bloche said.

‘’What?’’ Chris asked.

‘’You want to go home?’’ Granny Bloche said. ‘’Pinch the gnome. It’s the only way.’’

Chris reached out and the gnome ran away. Chris chased after the gnome. He ran inside the home and Chris followed closely behind. A quaint fire roared in the fireplace. It made a lovely crackling sound as it warmed anyone nearby. ‘’It’s a nice place ain’t it?’’ The gnome asked.

‘’It seems nice enough, but I want to go home,’’ Chris admitted.

‘’Home, where you feel invisible?’’ The gnome asked.

Chris shook his head. He stared into the face of this tiny mythical creature and felt confused and embarrassed. ‘’How do you know that?’’ Chris asked.

He heard an unknown voice. ‘’ I see all in my crystal ball,’’ the wizard said.

Chris spun around and found the wizard glaring at him. He held a cup of piping hot cider in his hand and took a sip. ‘’Your father does not give you the attention you seek ever since your parents' divorce,’’ the wizard said.

Chris’ head started spinning. ‘’How long have you been spying on me?’’

‘’We observe all lovers of the fall and Halloween,’’ The wizard said. ‘’It is my job.’’

Chris lunged at the gnome and missed. He ran through the boy’s legs. ‘’What the heck does that mean?’’ Chris asked head cocked, mouth agape.

‘’You must be deemed worthy to pinch the gnome,’’ the wizard said.

‘’How do I know if I’m deemed worthy?’’ Chris asked.

The wizard reached into Chris’ chest and pulled out the boy’s heart and weighed it, feeling the girth of it. ‘’You have a conflicted heart,’’ the wizard said. ‘’You want to leave this place, but you don’t necessarily want to go home.’’

‘’Come catch me, boy,’’ the gnome said, bending over and wiggling his butt at Chris. He chased the gnome into the kitchen. The gnome danced as he climbed up onto the table and Chris was able to grab the little guy by the back of his shirt and pinched the gnome’s cheek. He found himself back at his own home, the house with green paneling and the giant oak tree in the front yard. He grabbed the door handle and knew his father would be waiting inside, but that did not fill him with as much dread as it once would have.