Dedicated to
SiennaPJS

   Her mind raced with so many questions, she wondered if her brain might implode.

   Who was he?

   Why did he help her escape from the bully?

   Why did he act cranky and mean the day he moved in?

   How did he now her last name?

   How did he know Coco's last name?

   Had he talked to her parents?

   But instead of doing the civil thing, and introducing herself, she looked around, and wrinkled her nose at the smell that had just filled the air.

   "Ew," she muttered to herself, "what is that smell?"

   She suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth. Mr. Forkle was still staring at her and the smell of stinky feet was permeating off of him so strongly, she nearly choked.

   "Sorry, I wasn't..." she began, stumbling over her words.

   "No need to apologize, Miss Foster. I understand things are stressful for you. I would like to talk to you in private for just a moment. I'd also like to meet your family," he paused. "You are my new neighbours after all!" His enthusiasm sounded a bit forced. "Now, please," he gestured to a tree root coming out of the ground. He walked over and sat down. She joined him.

"Have you ever experienced anything out of the ordinary in your lifetime?"

   Coco's sneering voice, telling her that she must be like Harry Potter echoed back into her ears, and she almost laughed. Except, Mr. Forkle's face was stone serious.

   "No," she answered, trying to remember if she had ever spoken Parseltongue to a snake. She was pretty sure that would be a fairly memorable moment in her life. She never remembered doing or seeing anything weird, or wizard-like.
But then she remembered the cloaked figures following her. And the tingling feeling down her back. And the mysterious figure in the neighbouring yard. Not to mention the time she thought she had seen someone disappear when she was six.

   Right.

   The day she had tried to forget since it happened.

   It had been a sunny summer day, and Jamie had been enjoying it to its fullest. All the sprinklers on all the lawns on her street had been spraying. She'd been running through them all morning. Then she had found a towel, and laid down on the grass, looking for pictures in the clouds. Her parents had been bringing her snacks all day, and her six-year-old life had been good.

   Until it wasn't.

   The sky had darkened slightly, and the sun was blotted out by smoke. She heard far off sirens of fire-engines racing to put out the fire. She had wanted to go inside, but a strange instinct inside of her told her to stay. The instinct persisted, until a beautiful lady, walked over to her yard. She looked to be in her mid thirties. She had ice blue eyes, and long blonde hair. She was wearing a red and silver jewelled cape, that made Jamie think she was a queen or celebrity.

   "Hi! What's your name?" she had called, in a happy, soothing voice. Jamie had become still, and silent. She had remembered the 'stranger-danger' lessons she'd been learning in kindergarten. She had to stop herself from telling the woman her real name.

   "Sidney," she mumbled. She felt strangely scared.

   "Well, Sidney, you have a great day!" The pretty woman nodded in her direction, and smiled warmly.

   Jamie had felt suspicious, so she had followed the woman. She walked quietly, her bare feet aching on the hot pavement. Twisting and turning through streets in her town. The familiar streets now felt colder. When Jamie peeked around the next corner, the woman was holding a magic wand in the air. But instead of waving it, she simply stepped forward, and disappeared.

She had felt a terrible feeling after that. She become sick, and missed two weeks of school.

   Back in the present, Jamie nodded to Mr. Forkle.

   "Yes." The simple word had too many meanings.

   "Jamie," Mr. Forkle's voice took on an urgent tone, sounding worried. "The first time you ever saw me, was your first instinct to trust me?"

   "I—" she thought of telling him she had spied on him, but decided against it. "Yes. I thought—yes. I trust you. And I really don't know why." Now Jamie wondered why she was spilling like this. There was a warm feeling inside her chest when she told the truth to him.  And she trusted him, strangely, even though she had just met him. There was a sense of familiarity about him. Maybe he had been a family friend when she was little. Maybe he had been one of her grandparents' friends. Maybe that was why her parents had chosen this particular house.

   "How do you know my name?" she asked, breaking up the silence that had fallen between them.

   "I know many things, Miss Foster. Your name, one of them," he replied vaguely.

   "Okay." She suddenly felt an urge to walk away. The perfect excuse arose, when her mother called for her to come eat. "Sorry, I gotta go. Maybe I'll see you around here? Perhaps we can invite you for lunch sometime. See you."

   He just nodded, appearing lost in though, hands on his temples, rubbing vigorously. Staring at her, as if looking into her brain. He must have a terrible headache or migraine. Finally Mr. Forkle slouched down on the grass, looking defeated.

   It seemed that her neighbour had changed from mean, to just plain weird.

   But that didn't worry her.

   What worried her, was the tingling feeling down her spine.

933 words