Chapter 1 No Man''s Land Charlie was there again, in this familiar place, with its windswept sand and jagged rocks, its vast emptiness. For a moment, he thought he saw the boy out on the open plain in the distance. He had seen him here before and called to him, but there was never an answer. This left Charlie to wonder if the boy was ever really there, or if instead, he was seeing nothing more than the other shadows that stretched across the horizon. The name he called out to the boy was Billy, and in this place Billy always walked alone, in silhouette, toward a setting sun. "Charlie, Charlie Cooper." Charlie opened his eyes. There was a puddle of drool next to his hand on the yellow plastic grain finish of his desk.
"Would you care to join us?" Charlie''s fifth-grade class laughed, and someone--even the teacher, Ms. Hatchet, wasn''t sure who--was making cartoonish snoring sounds. "Come on, Charlie, sit up. You may be surprised. You might actually find this interesting." Ms. Hatchet clapped her hands. "And, class, that goes for the rest of you too.
We''re almost there. Class!" Another clap. "Class!" Charlie blinked, slowly focusing on his notebook and the tattered photograph that was propped up against it. The picture was of two boys standing in front of a large barn. Charlie was the smaller of the two, although it was difficult to make out his cousin Billy''s face through the sun flares that had dappled the camera''s lens that day. Both boys were wearing vampire capes and smiles that exposed pointed, plastic fangs, and surrounding them were pumpkins, piles and piles of pumpkins. Charlie lifted his head and stared blankly at the map that was pulled down in front of the blackboard. He wasn''t ready to be back in Ms.
Hatchet''s class yet. He was tired and wished he could just keep on sleeping, but he knew that wasn''t an option-- there had already been plenty of warnings. Charlie folded the photograph and returned it to the pocket of his sweatshirt. "Now, this area, which would eventually become part of the Oklahoma Territory," Ms. Hatchet was saying, "was known as No Man''s Land. It was thought at the time to be the hangout of outlaws and other questionable characters." Ms. Hatchet paused as the rest of her class sat up slightly.
The students, a gruesome assembly of smeared makeup, hooded capes, and rubber-molded masks, were almost all in costume. "Yes, outlaws . I thought that might get your attention. You see this region." Ms. Hatchet pointed at the northwest corner of the map. "When they divided up the land into the Oklahoma, Colorado, and Kansas Territories, they forgot this section." Charlie studied the faded region of the map.
Sure enough, the mapmakers at the time had missed a section. "But the authorities learned their lesson. Just because a place isn''t on an official map doesn''t mean it doesn''t exist," Ms. Hatchet lectured. "And although this strip certainly did exist, it did not formally become part of the United States until the passage of the Organic Act of 1890, which assigned the land to the newly appointed Oklahoma Territory." "Okay, class, so let''s remember, ''Ok-la-homa Territory.'' Repeat after me: ''Ok-la-homa Territory.''" "Ok-la-homa Territory," the class robotically returned.
Charlie''s gaze wandered to the window. It had rained on and off all morning, and through the cotton ball cobwebs and rubber spiders that decorated the window''s frame, he could see that a heavy gray mist still hung in the treetops surrounding the playground. "I think there may be a lesson here for all of us," Ms. Hatchet continued. "Could you imagine, a no-man''s-land? Hundreds of thousands of forgotten acres that some surveyor failed to include on any maps?" Charlie looked at the clock. It seemed to be stubbornly hovering a few minutes before the top of the hour. "Sounds to me like this is the story of one mapmaker who didn''t do his homework." Ms.
Hatchet glanced at her watch. "Well, looks like All Hallows'' Eve is almost upon us!" Ms. Hatchet turned, concealing her face for a moment, and then spun back around, wearing a wrinkled green witch mask that muffled her voice. "Remember, have fun tonight, but be safe. And please make sure you are home before the clock strikes twelve, for midnight is the bewitching hour, when the monsters, ghouls, and goblins roam our streets looking for girls and boys who do not obey their parents, or teachers, and who refuse to brush their teeth ." The entire class looked at "Stink Mouth" Sam, who conspicuously covered his mouth. "Oh, come on," Sam called out. "I brushed this morning!" "That''s good, Sam.
Lesson learned," Ms. Hatchet continued as the bell rang. "All right, Happy Halloween!" The class erupted, running for the door. "Keep the mayhem to a minimum and don''t eat all your candy at once!" Ms. Hatchet shouted over her students'' exit. Charlie got up from his desk and slowly pulled on his backpack. His foot had fallen asleep, and he stomped as he stood to shake the pins and needles free. "Hold on there, Charlie," Ms.
Hatchet said. She was still wearing the witch mask, so it was difficult to understand exactly what she was saying. "Aren''t you forgetting something?" "Forgetting something, Ms. Hatchet?" Ms. Hatchet held out an old pillowcase with Charlie scribbled across the front in smeared orange and black Magic Marker. Earlier in the week, they had decorated the trick-or-treat sacks in art class, Charlie with less enthusiasm than his classmates. "I know it''s just the candy from school today, but it''s a start, right?" Charlie took the sack from Ms. Hatchet.
"Oh yeah, the candy. Thank you. I must have left it in the cafeteria." "And, Charlie," Ms. Hatchet said, removing her mask. "About the quiz. A little better, but I know it''s not your best. Still having trouble concentrating?" "A little.
" "Well, these things take time, so keep trying, okay?" Other than a quick look toward the door, Charlie did not respond. While he appreciated Ms. Hatchet''s checking in on him, he really just wanted to leave. Charlie always wanted to leave, to be somewhere else, anywhere except for where he was. "I have something for you." Ms. Hatchet opened her desk and presented a pair of plastic glow-in-the-dark fangs to Charlie. They were taped to a full-size Hershey''s chocolate bar.
"I remember you saying you lost yours." "Thank you, Ms. Hatchet." Charlie peeled the plastic fangs from the Hershey''s wrapper and dropped the chocolate into the sack with the other candy he had collected at lunch. "There will be plenty more candy after trick-or-treating, right?" "I don''t know, Ms. Hatchet. I don''t think I''m going trick-or-treating this year." Ms.
Hatchet set the witch mask down on her desk. "You sure?" "This''ll be enough," Charlie said, swinging the sack over his shoulder. "No trick-or-treating. Well, you are still working in the pumpkin patch tonight, aren''t you?" "Yes, ma''am." "I doubt Old Joe would have it any other way. It''s good having it back, isn''t it? The pumpkin patch?" Charlie shoved the fangs in his mouth and nodded. "The town--well, everyone--really missed it last year." Ms.
Hatchet smiled. Charlie tried to smile back, but with his mouth full of glow-in-the-dark plastic, it was hard to tell if he was succeeding. "All right, I will see you there." "Okay, Ms. Hatchet, see you there." Charlie turned to the door, but stopped just before opening it. "Yes, Charlie?" He held up the candy sack. "Thanks again," Charlie said.
Then he bit down on the fangs and walked out the door. Chapter 2 The Orchards A whirlwind of leaves, red, purple, and gold, swirled around Charlie''s sneakers as he walked across the playground, counting his steps home. Usually, counting things made him feel better, but today it was somehow harder to keep track with the plastic fangs in his mouth. He wasn''t sure why. He wasn''t counting out loud--he was counting to himself--but still he was having trouble concentrating. Following the cracks in the sidewalk, Charlie passed the other kids from his class, going largely ignored except for a sad, sympathetic smile from a girl named Birdy Fargus. Charlie tried to wave back; however, Birdy did not seem to notice, so he kept on moving, careful to go the long way around the rock outcrop that marked the start of the high school playing fields. From the cover of the tree line, he could see a group of older kids, some already in costume, lingering on the rocks.
To avoid their teachers and coaches, Billy used to laugh. But now, Charlie thought, looking out over the open fields, Billy was gone. Charlie glanced back at the older kids and decided to stick to the high trees. Even though it took a little longer, he knew the detour was worth the effort, and was soon on the main street that went through the middle of town anyway. Char.