Chapter One

“You’re not my dad!” the words of his eight-year-old niece echoed in Finn Dagdaman’s mind as he walked behind Chloe, her mother, and her mischievous little white dog along the narrow country lane toward the castle next door.

Overhead, the naked branches of oak trees rattled in the stiff breeze, promising a chilly Halloween day and perhaps spooky times this evening. To Finn, the trees seemed to watch him. Waiting for him to trip over their gnarly roots or slip on the leaves that had been shed onto the spongy ground beneath his feet. Providing proof he could never be as good as his brother or live up to Ethan’s example. Unless he agreed to the military’s proposal.

Then maybe even his niece would admire him. In the time he had been staying with them since his brother left for his current military assignment, Chloe had not been impressed with the human Uncle Finn.

But he didn’t have to decide until tonight–at the stroke of midnight on Halloween.

As they approached the driveway of Aunt Maddie’s castle, the driver of an old wooden wagon pulled by what seemed to be a sway-backed, bony horse came to “life.”

“Climb aboard, my pretties,” a robotic voice invited. “If you dare. Bwahahaha!”

As soon as they boarded the wagon and sat down, seat belts in the form of snakes slithered over their laps. The old nag whinnied and clattered up the driveway. The wagon slid onto the drawbridge just as it started to raise and made it across in record time.

At the heavy wooden door of the castle, the wagon halted, and the snake seat belts retracted.

“Welcome to Aunt Maddie’s Castle,” the driver’s robotic voice intoned. Then he and the horse went back to “sleep.”

Madelaine Ainsworth herself swung open the massive wooden door, dressed as the artist she was in a paint-spattered shirt and a beret perched at a rakish angle on her head rather than one of her larger, more audacious hats.

“I thought Uncle Horace was going to have a hologram of a ghost open the door.” The wings on Chloe’s fairy-witch costume seemed to sag with disappointment.

“He was waiting for you to help him finish it,” Maddie said. “Go on down to his workshop. He’ll be expecting you.”

“I get to go to Uncle Horace’s workshop? Squeezy peaches!” With her wings once more perky, Chloe and her little dog trotted toward the basement stairs.

Maddie greeted Chloe’s mom with a hug and winked at Finn over her shoulder.

“Thank you for making this night special for Chloe,” Adalie said. “She’s really missing her dad and has been giving her uncle Finn a pretty hard time.”

“Not having a beloved parent around can be devastating for a child,” Maddie said. “My niece and nephew were about Chloe’s age when they came to stay with us. That’s why we built this castle. To bring some magic back into their lives. Halloween was one of our favorite times. Everyone else is in the kitchen. Come and say hello.”

I don’t even have a costume. Finn forced himself to smile in spite of feeling like a misfit as he greeted the costumed characters who made up Aunt Maddie’s household. Would agreeing to the military’s proposal to become fully bionic make him feel more comfortable? An old television show had lauded the abilities of a bionic man, but the robotics that rebuilt his right side and saved his six-year-old life after a vehicle accident only made his growing body seem more klutzy. He fumbled physically and socially all through his adolescence and teen years, and well into his twenties.

Maddie’s nephew, Ryan, wore chef’s whites, complete with a tall toque blanche on his head. He handed Finn a sampler plate loaded with breakfast food. “Pumpkin spice pancakes and waffles with warm caramel syrup, plus pumpkin Dutch baby with caramelized apples. There’s also pumpkin spice oatmeal in the slow cooker and pumpkin spice granola to sprinkle on top or eat plain. Coming up later today will be pretzels, cookies with cinnamon cream cheese frosting, pudding shots, cheesecake bites and much more. All pumpkin spice or apple, of course.”

Finn carefully took the plate with his left hand rather than risk gripping too hard with the bionic fingers of his right hand and shattering the plate.

“Don’t forget your pumpkin spice latte or cider.” Dressed as bird watchers as they had been during their misadventure when they met, Maddie’s niece, Rissa, and her military husband ran the latte machine this morning.

Seeing Ian’s buzzed haircut reminded Finn of the decision he had avoided until today and he gripped the cup too hard, crushing it and spilling hot liquid down his arm.

“Omigosh!” Rissa pulled Finn toward the kitchen sink and turned on the faucet. “Put your hand under cold water so it doesn’t burn.”

She turned his hand over and looked at him strangely. “No cuts and your hand isn’t even red.”

“Been that way since I was a kid. Guess my body had to develop an immunity to my clutziness.” Finn set the plate of food on the counter to tear off a paper towel and dry his hand. Ian didn’t say anything but watched him closely as he handed Finn another latte. “Thanks.”

Finn picked up his plate of food–carefully–and sat at the far end of the table, wishing he could disappear into the faux gray stone wall.

“Today is open house for everyone in the neighborhood,” Maddie said. “We’ll have trick-or-treaters all day. Some will stay to party. Others will gather their candy and move on. The person who gets the orange straw in their latte will pull the first shift with the ghost hologram at the door to hand out candy while everyone else gets to eat and party.”

Seeing his chance to escape the party crowd, Finn said, “I’m not much for parties. So I’ll volunteer to pull the first shift to hand out candy.”

“Any trick-or-treaters who come to the door will expect a performance, even if they aren’t staying for the party,” Ryan said.

“What kind of a performance?” Finn wondered if he had made a mistake with his offer. He could follow up his cup crushing by taking selfies with the trick-or-treaters using the camera in his robotic eye or leaping onto the roof with the help of his bionic leg. But that would be breaking his personal vow not to use his bionic prowess like a party gimmick in hopes others would like him.

“Well, with the hologram being a ghost, you’d be expected to wear a sheet and make eerie sounds. Singing in three-part harmony is optional.”

“That might be something my daughter would enjoy,” Chloe’s mom suggested. “Since she refused to go trick-or-treating without her dad.”

And I’m not her dad, as Chloe often reminds me, Finn thought. Even with bionic vocal cords I can’t much stay in key, unlike my brother who was a soloist with the high school choir. “I’m not much of a singer.”

“Not to worry,” Aunt Maddie said. “Horace will pipe music through the castle audio system and you can lip sync. We’ll even come up with a costume for you.”

Later that day Finn found himself wearing a sheet and stationed near the massive wooden door of the castle with a not-so-enthusiastic Chloe, who looked down the hallway toward the kitchen and the laughter of the party about every thirty seconds. “When can we go back to the party with everyone else?”

“Half an hour until the next shift comes on.” Finn injected cheerfulness into his voice. “Here comes another little witch.”

“And a cat. Where’s my dog? Batzy loves to chase cats.”

As Chloe turned to look for her little white dog, Batzy spotted the orange cat and zoomed out the door after her, catching a black and orange table cloth over his head as he clipped a small table set in the hallway with a bowl of candy corn on top of it.

Finn grabbed for the bowl, juggling it from one hand to another as packets of candy corn bounced up and down.

“Batzy! Come back!” Chloe ran after her little dog and Finn awkwardly chased after them both, still clutching the bowl of candy, his sheet costume flapping as he ran.