“Don’t cheat,” Audrey barked.

  She reached over the two suitcases jammed between her and Garrett in the compact back seat and plucked the puzzle book from her brother’s hand.

  “I’m not,” Garrett said.

  Audrey dangled the book in front of Garrett’s face. “I just saw you look at the answer key.”

  Garrett snatched the puzzle book back. “I was

  just peeking.”

  “That’s called cheating.”

  “I call it a hint. Plus, this one is hard.”

  “Well, here’s a hint: don’t cheat, and next time pack a few that are for your grade level.”

  “I like the challenge, and that’s easy for you to say. You have a photographer’s memory.”

  “A photographic memory,” she corrected him. “My brain takes a picture of everything I read, and then when I need to, I can remember everything in perfect detail…as if I were looking at a photograph.”

  “Whatever, Elephant,” Garrett said as he tugged on his ears. “It’s still not cheating.”

  Audrey turned and pressed her nose against the window as an old graveyard sped by. “How many of those did you pack anyway?”

  “Enough to get me through the summer.”

  Their Aunt Dolores gripped the steering wheel of her little silver sports car as if she were racing for the checkered flag, only taking a hand off to brush back the long, red curl of hair, which fell in front of her purple-rimmed glasses, or to turn up the business news playing on the radio.

  “Children, pack up your things,” she said, peering at them from the rear view mirror. “We’re almost there.”

  “Do we have to stay with Grandpa Edgar?” Audrey groaned. “Have you thought about all the weird smells and chorus of uncontrollable gases Garrett and I are going to be subjected to over the next few months?”

  “Yeah, can’t you send us to camp for the summer or something? Anything?” Garrett added.

  “Now, we discussed this last night. Your father needs me at his company’s new building site in Shanghai, China, for the entire summer. Your grandfather is the only person willing and able to take care of you for that length of time.”

  “But it’s going to be boring,” Garrett whined.

  Aunt Dolores laughed, “My father, your grandfather, has never in his life been boring. Eccentric—yes, but never a bore.”

  Garrett leaned over the suitcases and whispered to Audrey, “Excellent-ric?”

  “Eccentric. It means he’s weird.”

  Garrett rolled his eyes. “Great.”

  “Children, please. I need you to promise me that you’ll behave.”

  Garrett stuffed the puzzle book into his backpack. “It will be hard to misbehave when there’s nothing to do.”

  “He always had great stories,” Audrey said.

  “I don’t remember. Last time we saw him was three years ago at Mom’s...” He paused and looked out the window, “You know. I just turned seven.”

  “I remember Dad saying he lived in a tree house on some tropical island at the time.”

  “Wish he still did,” Garrett said. “That might be entertaining.”

  Audrey leaned forward and retrieved a shoe box from under the front seat. “Don’t worry about us, Aunt Dolores,” she said as she placed the box on her lap and removed the ribbon from her hair. “Everything will be fine.”

  The box was once an ordinary shoe box, but now a collage of black and white horror movie photos covering all sides and the lid made it as unique as every ribbon contained inside. Not only did Audrey have every color to match any mood, but she had taken the time to personally decorate each with hand-stitched thorns, barbed wire, bats, ghosts, dragons, and other images inspired by scary stories and frightening fairy tales.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Audrey selected a dull gray ribbon with swirls of green smoke stitched into it and tied her ponytail back.

  Garrett made sure the pencil that was always behind his right ear was securely in place, then adjusted the “Junior Detective” badge covering the Ravenswood Private School embroidered logo on his navy blue blazer.

  “Just make sure you tell Dad he owes us a real summer vacation,” he said.

  “Someplace interesting and exciting,” Audrey added.

  “I will.” Aunt Dolores whipped the car into the driveway of an old apartment building and screeched to a stop. “We’re here.”

  Audrey and Garrett crawled out of the backseat, set their suitcases down on the sidewalk, and stretched their legs.

  Grandpa Edgar’s three-story apartment building stood like a tombstone in a forgotten graveyard. The entire building seemed to lean forward, casting a dark shadow across the lawn and over Audrey and Garrett. Deep cracks in the building’s concrete face branched out from the frames of each window and door like wrinkles around

  the eyes of an old man. The pale green paint on the

  twisted railings of the four balconies—two on the third floor and two on the second—peeled away and exposed the rusted metal underneath.

  Thirsty flowers and plants around the porch and along the walkway drooped their heads in the yellow, crab-grass-infested lawn. In the middle of the yard, the Sterling Oaks Retirement Village sign swung from rusty chains on an old wooden post. It waved Audrey and Garrett towards the front door.

  “Hic!” Garrett hiccuped.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Audrey asked.

  Garrett pointed up at one of the third-floor balconies. Grandpa Edgar stood there, wrapped up in a lime green blanket. He held onto the railing with a trembling hand, his back hunched, and his face concealed by dark shadows. He slowly raised his free hand and waved.

  Audrey and Garrett looked at each other with matched expressions of horror.

  “We’re doomed,” Audrey whispered.

  Aunt Dolores, still in the driver’s seat, leaned towards the passenger side window and yelled out, “Be good, don’t make a mess, and listen to Grandpa Edgar.”

  “Are you sure we can’t go with you?” Audrey asked, already knowing the answer.

  Aunt Dolores put the car in gear. “I’ll be too busy with work,” she said, pointing to the front door. “Now go on. Tell Grandpa Edgar I said hello. I’d walk you up to his room, but I’d be late for my flight.” She smiled, adjusted the rear-view mirror, and stepped on the gas.

  A cloud of dust kicked up from the rear tires and swirled around Audrey and Garrett.

  “Have fun, children,” Aunt Dolores yelled as she disappeared over the hill at the end of the street.

  A Frankenstein monster-like “Humpf!” came from the balcony.

  Audrey and Garrett looked up. Grandpa Edgar continued to wave. The lime green blanket still hid

  his face.

  Audrey and Garrett forced themselves to smile and wave back.

  The old man leaned against the railing of the balcony, but the rusted metal—weak and brittle from neglect—couldn’t support his weight. It snapped like a dead tree branch, and Grandpa Edgar fell.

  “Grandpa!” Audrey screamed.

  The lime green blanket flew from Grandpa Edgar’s head and shoulders, revealing the powerful man underneath the disguise-—a man as big as a bear with broad shoulders and a child-like gleam in his eye. He

  wore a dusty, brown leather jacket and baggy, tan pants with over a dozen pockets on the front, back, and sides.

  He held onto the end of a rope with his right hand.

  “Wooo-hooo!” he howled.

  Grandpa Edgar swung down, the other end of the rope tied securely around a flagpole on the roof of the building, and did so with the grace and agility of a monkey in the jungle.

  A man half his age wouldn’t attempt such a stunt. And seeing Grandpa Edgar do it so effortlessly made Garrett wonder if he had ever been a circus acrobat. The only telling signs of his age were the gray whiskers of a thick mustache that danced above his lips and the top of his head, which was bald. But what he lacked on the top, he had plenty of on the sides and back. His pure white ponytail flapped behind his head like a horse’s tail in

  the wind.

  Grandpa Edgar released the rope, somersaulted across the lawn, leapt over the bushes, and landed right in front of Audrey and Garrett. He reached into his jacket

  and pulled out two gifts, each wrapped in plain brown paper and tied up with ordinary string.

  “Bienvenue! Benvenuto! Willkommen! Welcome, children!” Grandpa Edgar bellowed, greeting Audrey and Garrett in four different languages: French, Italian, German, and English.

  “Grandpa…hic!…Edgar?” Garrett asked.

  “Indeed, and I must say, your impression of the Central American bullfrog is spot on.”

  “He always hiccups when he’s nervous,” Audrey said.

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Grandpa Edgar assured them.

  “Mr. Font!” a woman shrieked from the balcony.

  “Uh-oh, I spoke too soon,” Grandpa Edgar handed the gifts to Audrey and Garrett as he spun around towards the voice.

  Standing at the broken railing of the balcony, with her hands on her hips, was a young, dark-haired nurse dressed all in white.

  “Mister Font!” the nurse repeated. “How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t swing down from the balcony!” she scolded Grandpa Edgar, waving a stiff finger in the air.

  “Yes, of course, Nurse Rays,” Grandpa Edgar said, bowing to the nurse as if she were the queen of the tilting tombstone. “My sincerest apologies. I assure you that it will never happen again.” He turned his back on Nurse Rays and winked at Audrey and Garrett—a wink that said, “Yeah, right. I’ll be swinging down from that balcony as soon as you’re not looking.”

  Nurse Rays snorted in disgust as she stormed back into the building.

  “Come now,” Grandpa Edgar said, snatching up Audrey and Garrett’s suitcases and lifting them over his head. “I have something exciting in store for you.”