TUESDAY AFTERNOON - 2:58pm 12/16/86 HQ

Standing at the entrance to the living room, Mike shakes his head. Jacob’s doing that think ahead of himself thing he always does. Jason’s still sitting on the sofa.

“Hey Kerwin. Ummm...if you just heard Jacob mumbling as he entered the room, allow me to slow down time and straighten it out for human consumption. (beat) Umm, were you planning on bunking with us in the HQ tonight? Lots of fun, winter merriment staying warm by the fire, s’mores, nog, giggles, Dream Date, scary ghost stories ho ho ho. And, if you are, can you give me a hand lugging some blankets and stuff out back?”

Mrs. Laberman steps in, handing Mike a pile of hunker down supplies.

“Thanks, Mrs. L.”

He hands half the pile and a roll of toilet paper to Jason, then starts walking back through the kitchen. Seeing Jacob near the large dry goods cabinet, Mike nods his head.

“Heading out, Laberman!”

The boys walk out to the HQ and deposit the stuff on the table. Mike realizes that he tracked snow across the carpet but yields to his purpose at hand. He heads to the back door.

“Give me a hand with some wood. It’s gonna be a ball shrinker tonight! Already bobbing at zero.”

He taps the wall mounted thermometer just outside the door.

“Three degrees. Even the Shadows are gonna get frostbite on this kinda night.”

He stops by the massive wall of cut wood and starts pulling logs.

“Stick out your arms, Kerwin.”

Jason moves over and strikes a worker bee ready to carry stance and Mike starts loading.

“You tell me when it’s too much.”

A shadow is hard earned in the winter dusk. This one cast the telltale outline of a tricorn hat.

“Or, yer could just drop the bloody burden and crush 'is skull over and over again wiv one of them logs. Right. Yer tell me wen it’s too much.”

Mike goes about grabbing a load for himself. Stanley tilts his head as if regarding Mike and his actions.

“Listen, boy. Them witches are tryin' ter destroy yer. These lads are yor mates. Yer can’t allow them cunts ter poison their minds. They want ter kill ole Stanley, that’s all. Burn 'im at the stake. Keep sharp, kid.”


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