Lester of Two Evils

The Other Side

Two glowing jack-o-lanterns flanked the Giles Hollow Post Office's broad front porch. The pumpkin's candles flickered yellow and orange beneath a string of bright skeleton lights that danced gently in the soft breeze. The rest of the space was blanketed in a patchwork of fake spiderwebs. Given the building's age, these did not look entirely out of place. However, the drooping gray threads had the added impact of obscuring the front door and its neighboring round dark windows, creating the impression of a leering face. Altogether, the scene became magnitudes spookier than perhaps originally intended. Unfortunately, the haunting result was seemingly lost on the older man sitting and smiling at the center of it all.

Lester waited across the street on the stone bench in front of the library. He watched costumed kids in groups of three or four tentatively make their way forward. After chorused cries of "trick or treat!" they happily made selections from a large metal washtub filled with candy. The older ones helped themselves and hurried off to the next house. Younger kids took longer. Their little hands picked up each piece of candy, determining which was bigger, had more chocolate, or might be sour. Ben Titus, dressed in his ever-present uniform, rocked in his chair, laughing as they thanked him and ran back to their parents.

The flow of trick-o-treaters continued unbroken for nearly forty-five minutes before a gap in the procession appeared. Finally, as the third werewolf of the night and a kid dressed as a bad report card exited the porch, Lester stood and approached.

"There you are," Ben said, his face lighting up. "I was wondering if you were going to come by. Thought maybe you'd gotten too old for trick-or-treating. What, no costume this year?"

"Hi, Ben," said Lester, stepping up onto the porch. "I was wearing one, but I kind of had to ditch it."

"Is that so? I suppose I can't say much myself since I'm going as a postmaster. Not that scary, and I guess it doesn't count as a costume, especially if it's the one you hide behind every other day of the year."

"Ben," Lester said, looking around to make certain they were alone. "Can we talk?"

"Sure we can. What's on your mind?"

"Inside? It's serious."

"Oh — of course. Give me two seconds."

Ben got up and placed what Lester thought was the world's most optimistic sign in front of the washtub full of sweets. Please Take Just One. Then he grabbed a couple of candy bars and handed the larger of the two to Lester.

"Chocolate's some of the best serious conversation food there is," said Ben.

Lester peeled back the wrapper and took a bite as Ben brushed aside spiderwebs and used his key to open the door.

The inside of the post office was dark.

Following the dim glow of light from the back room, they passed the wall of mailboxes and stepped through the half-door next to the customer window. Ben took a seat behind his desk, and Lester plopped into the chair beside it.

Sitting in silence, Lester tried to figure out where to begin while Ben busied himself by pretending to sort through a stack of papers.

"You're going to think I'm crazy," Lester said, deciding on the direct approach. "And I wouldn't blame you. But sinister things are happening in Giles Hollow."

Ben stopped his shuffling and shifted his chair to face Lester. "What kind of sinister things?"

"You know the rumors about The Council? How people are always saying it's a front for organized crime? Well, they're wrong. It's actually something much worse." Lester studied Ben's face. "What would you do if I told you there was a secret war that had been going on for centuries? One that no one but those fighting it knew about?"