The next day woke up earlier than he normally would have. He decided to introduce himself to the new neighbor kid today and the excitement he felt rivaled Christmas eve. When he came home the day before, he put his jacket back into the washer to get it cleaned back up; not listening to his grandmother rubbing it in his face that she was right. (He did get a bit of revenge when he hugged her, sharing the mess with her.) He sat up and was ready to spring up and get ready for the day, but he knew that his rushing around would probably wake his grandmother up. He layed back down on the bed and silently waited for at least dawn.

When dawn finally came, he jumped up and ran right for the bathroom to have a shower. While in the shower, his grandmother knocked on the door and poked her head in.

"You, taking a shower, twice in one week? I must have died and gone to heaven during the night."

"Ha-ha." he said.

"So what's the special occasion?" she asked.

"Can't a guy just take a shower in peace and not get asked 20 thousand questions about it?"

"Alright, alright," she sighed and walked out of the bathroom, "breakfast will be ready in ten minutes."

After getting out of the shower and dressing up in not his nicest clothes but his second best, he headed down to the kitchen to eat breakfast. During breakfast, Wybie ate his oatmeal quickly and quietly, deciding not to tell his grandma where he was going. He had come to the conclusion that grandma had rented the middle apartment to the family as a surprise for him, so he didn't want to ruin it for her.

"The weatherman said on the news last night," grandma said after taking a sip of her tea, "that it was going to rain today. The paper says the same, so I don't want you outside all day runnin' around when it does."

"I won't be," he said after rinsing his bowl and putting it in the dirty dish side of the sink, "I'm just going out to do the usual."

"Oh, lost interest in the new renters have you?" said grandma looking up at him.

"No," he said grabbing his mask off the corner of his chair, "I'm going to see if they move in today. And no, I won't go inside the Pink Palace." he said without even giving her the chance to say so.

"Hmm." is all she said.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours." he said while walking out. He went to the garage; hopped on his bike and went out into the woods.

Several hours went by very slowly for him. Normally there weren't enough hours in the day for him, but today there were just to many. Occasionally, he would check to see if the new renters had moved in yet, but every time he was disappointed. While waiting, he did what he normally did, crawling up trees and under bushes; taking pictures of local wildlife and just using up the day. Around ten o'clock the sky started to get angry looking, and he could hear in the distance thunder rumbling. He sighed, he was running out of time; soon his grandmother would call for him and he would have to go back and have to wait another day. He decided to check one last time before heading back home. He was close to the old orchard where his great-grandfather had planted and farmed apples to sell locally. Now it was only used by people who wanted to come and pick apples for themselves, and that hadn't happened for years. As he was pedaling his way along, he heard someone call out:

"Hello? Who's there?"

Wybie didn't say anything, he stopped peddling for a moment and listened. Nothing was said for a while, so he hopped off his bike and walked it along for a moment until he heard someone scream. He hopped on his bike again and slowly made his way along until he could see the open area of the old well and could see the same girl from the day before yelling at the cat who was on the tree stump. As she was talking to the cat, she mentioned something about a well. That's when he noticed the forked branch in her hands. Now, it did occur to him to walk up normally to her and introduce himself properly, but it wasn't every day when the conditions were just right to give someone you didn't know a good scare. He lowered his mask and quietly positioned himself just right and waited for the right moment. When it came, he honked is air horn and revved the engine and did a wheelie. The weather was on his side, because when he did this, the thunder and lightning had perfect timing. He rode down the hill as if he had been doing it his whole life and did another wheelie. She screamed out and started to swing her branch at him in selfdefence yelling out:

"Get away from me!"

Deciding not to simply turn away or stop, he reached out and grabbed the branch from her and rode past her, pulling her down in the process. After grabbing the branch, he hopped off the bike and walked up on the tree stump and looked down at her using his mask to get a closer look. He could see that she was still freaked out and decided not to continue teasing her. He flipped up the mask and decided to look at her branch.

"Ohh," he said seeing what kind of branch it was and figuring out what it was probably used for, "let me guess, you're from Texas or Utah; someplace dried out and barren, right?" he continued to look at the branch, almost forgetting about the girl.

"I've heard about water-witching before but it doesn't make much sense; I mean it's just an ordinary branch."

"It's a dowsing rod," said the girl, not even trying to cover up her annoyance and anger at him. He then felt a sharp pain in his knee and let go of the branch to grab his knee. As he was jumping up and down the girl continued, "and I don't like be stalked. Not by psycho-nerds or their cats!"

He looked first at the girl and then at the cat who jumped up onto the stump next to him.

"H-He's not really my cat. He's kind of feral you know, wild. O-Of course I do feed him every night and sometimes he'll come in my window 'n bring me little dead things." he said bending down and petting the cat. The girl sighed loudly with annoyance then said:

"Look, I'm from Pontiac." He thought about it for a second and could only think of the car brand.

"Huh?"

"Michigan," she said in a 'duh' tone, "and if I'm a 'water witch', then where's the secret well?" she said stomping the ground within the fairy ring.

"Y-You stomp to hard and you'll fall in itཀ" he said pointing to the ground where she was standing. She cried out and jumped out of the ring. He jumped down and kneeled down by the lit and dug at the mud covering the well's lid, exposing the wood underneath.

"See," he said looking up at her, then knocking at the wood to make the well echo. He stood up and grabbed a large nearby branch and wedged the branch underneath the lid to open it up.

"Supposed to be so deep that if you fell to the bottom and looked up, you'd would see a sky full of stars in the middle of the day." He smiled at her. She looked up at him and her face softened slightly.

"Huh." was all she said. She bent down to feel the lid of the well.

'Well,' Wybie thought, 'so far, so good.' he looked down at the Pink Palace and thought of something else to talk about.

"Surprised she let you move in," he said to her, "my grandma. She owns the Pink Palace. Won't rent to people with kids."

"What do you mean?" she asked, he could hear the disbelief in her voice. He realize what he had said and knew he had to change the subject quickly.

"Wh.....Uh, I'm not supposed to talk about it," he said shrinking back slightly and looking down, not wanting to lie to her right off the bat, "I'm Wybie, Wybie Lovat." he said extending his hand to formally greet her. She took his hand and he vigorously yet limply shook her hand.

"Wybie?" she asked. He knew this part was coming.

"Short for Wyborne," he said walking away from her, "Not my idea, of course. What'd you get saddled with?"

"I wasn't saddled with anything," she said, her annoyance returning, "It's Coraline."

"Caroline what?" he asked, only half-listening to her, the cat had distracted him a little.

"Coraline. Coraline Jones." she said agitated. He did hear her this time, but decided to tease her again.

"Hmm...It's not real scientific, but I heard an ordinary name, like Caroline," he said chasing after the cat and then kneeling down by it, "can lead people to have ordinary expectations about a person." It was the same explanation his grandmother gave him every time he asked her why they decided to name him Wyborne. But he still thought it was cruel of them to do so. He heard her growl from his comment and he was about to say something else when he heard, "Wyborneཀ" called from the distance.

"I think I heard someone calling you, Wyborne." she said the last part with a bit of venom in it.

"W-W-What," he said standing back up with his back towards Coraline, "I-I didn't hear anything."

"Oh I definitely heard someone, Why-were-you-born."

He ignored the insult for a moment, listening for anything. He then heard his grandmother ringing that stupid dinner triangle and calling out his name again.

"Grandma!" he said under his breath and rubbing his hands nervously. He forced some laughter to Coraline while backing away toward his bike. She looked daggers at him. He looked away rubbing his neck, not really knowing how or what to say 'good-bye'.

"Well, great to meet a Michigan water witch," he said bending over to pick up his belongings. Coraline was now taping the branch she had earlier in her hand as if she would like to throw it at him.

"But, I'd wear gloves next time."

"Why?"

" 'Cuz that dousing rod of yours? Uh, it's poison oak." She cried out and dropped the stick. He smirked at her and with a jerk of his head, lowered his mask and rode off back towards home.

On the way back, he thought about what she had said to him, about his name. Well, he had to admit, no one had ever called him that before. By now, he was use to being called names by Jonas, so it didn't really bother him much. Actually he was surprised no one had called him that before. She was certinatly creative, and perhaps her attitude was because she had moved from so far away. It would sertinatly make him a little adgitatted as well. All in all, he was pleased on how well things went today, it was the first time he had an extended conversation with someone his own age. He pulled up to the house and put his bike away and wipped his feet before entering the kitchen. Grandma was standing in the kitchen waiting for him; she scowled at him then at the window watching the rain start beating down on the glass.

"You better not get no cold from that rain out there," she said looking back at him, "because I'm in no mood to have to waide on you hand an' foot."

"Geez Grandma," he said setting down his mask, "I'm not even wet."

"You are caked in mud," she said looking him up and down, "per-usual."

"You call this caked," he said pointing to himself, "this is nothing. Well, anyway I'll get in the tub then."

"Hold on Wyborne," she said shuffilng into the living room, "I need you to do something for me first. That's why I called you."

"What" he asked following her into the living room.

"I need you to go up into the attic and dust up there for me," she said pointing up the stairs and at the attic doorway, "I'd have done it myself but I'm not as young as I use to be. My hips wont let me up those silly steps today." Normally, any kid would eaither whine and complain or be afraid to go up, but Wybie almost jumped at the idea. He had always wanted to go up into the attic and look around to see what was there, but his grandma always said he was too little to go up there.

"Sure thing grandma," he said almost flying up the stairs in his hurry. She called him back and he grabbed the little hand-held dust buster and broom and dustpan and went back up the stairs. The attics' door handle was still way up high for him, so he used the broom's handle to jimmy the door open and pulled the ladder down. He climbed the steps and reaching inside of his coat pulled out his little flashlight and had a look around. The attic was very much like Mr. Bobinskies appartment, as in that the roof was low, there were lots of things that he wanted to see and there was a musty smell in the air that mixed with dust. He stepped up and walked a little ways in, looking at the boxes and thing covered in sheets. He looked up and found the dangling light and pulled the string. The light bulb took it's time to light up. It was an older bulb, probably from the forties or fifties he wasn't sure. The old bulb casted a deep yellowish light inside the attic that matched the mood of the attic. He really wanted to open all of the boxes and just explore every last corner of the attic, but he decided he'd better get going at dusting.

After sweeping and dusting for about half an hour, he decided he'd take a break. He went to go down into the kitchen and make a sandwitch or something when he heard a scratching noise. He paused for a moment, but then decided it was nothing and continued downstairs. Grandma was in her chair watching a talk show on tv and only looked up at him for a moment.

"Taking a break, grandma." he said walking into the kitchen.

"Alright Wyborne." she said turning back to her show. He entered the kitchen and made himself a nice BLT sandwitch with ham, chicken, tuna mixed with mayo and cheese, beets and mashed potatos and was about to take the first bite when he heard his grandma cry out in terror.

"OHཀ Wyborneཀ Come quickཀ" He set his sandwitch down and ran into the livingroom and saw his grandmother curled up into her chair, holding her legs wit one hand and pointing with the other underneath the older armchair with the lace on it.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"A ratཀ" she called out, arm still outstretched and pointing to the chair; quivering in terror, "There's a rat underneath the chairཀ I saw it go underཀ Oh, Oh,Ohཀ Ugly, nasty, filthy thingsཀ"

"I'll get it." he said grabbing a towel from the fridge and walking over to the chair.

"Oh, be careful Wyborneཀ" she wailed, "don't let it bite youཀ"

"I won't." he said and pulling out his flashlight again, he looked underneath the lace of the chair and turned it on. Underneath the chair in the corner was a little creature too small to be a rat, in fact it was a mouse.

"It's only a mouse." he said to her looking up at her. None the less, she still squealed and covered her face with her hands. He shook his head and looked back at the mouse to grab it but then it jumped out from the chair and hopped away. Grandma cried out in terror and wailing:

"Get it, get it, get itཀ" He chased the mouse around the living room and up the stairs, noticing that it wasn't an orinary mouse, but rather like a kangaroo mouse that he had seen on television on that animal show. He didn't think too hard about it though, as he was trying to catch the thing. As it hopped up the stairs he thought to himself where was that cat when you needed him. He reached the top of the stairs when he lost sight of it. He looked around, but didn't see where it could have gone too. Then he heard a squeeking sound above him and saw a tail just disappear from sight in the attic doorway. He went back up into the attic and saw it enter a small hole inside of an old hope chest that was sitting in the back of the attic.

"Must be it's nest." he said to himself and went over to the chest.

"Did you get it?ཀ" called out his histaricle grandmother.

"Not yet," he yelled out, "it went inside a old chest up here, I think it's where it's nesting." he heard his grandmother wail in terror at the thought that the mouse may have been living there for some time. He went over to the chest and went to open it but it was locked with an old fashioned lock that required a skeleton key. He looked around to see if there was anything he could use to open it, but as luck would have it, there on one of the main support beams was an old set of skeleton keys on a nail.

He hopped on a box and got the keys down and one by one tried each key until the right one opened the lock. He put another box in front of the hole to make sure that the mouse would not excape, then placed one ear to the side of the chest trying to hear it to make sure it was still inside. He could hear it squeeking so he opened the chest and had a look. Inside were old fashoned girls dresses and shose that looked like they were for younger children. He moved things around and saw more and more young girl things like toys and old books of 'Dick and Jane' and other old things. The smell coming out of the box smelled old and unmoved, of an gone time that would soon be forgotten again once the box was closed. Finally, he thought he found it, and he raised his hand quietly up into the air and snatched it with his hand and went to put it inside the towel he had broght with him, but then he realized it wasn't a real mouse he had grabbed. It was a little doll kangaroo mouse with rosey cheeks and little black button eyes. He set it back into the chest and contiued looking for the real mouse when he saw it. Underneath everything, wrapped inside what looked like a baby blanket was a old doll, that looked uncanilly like Coraline.

He picked it up and had a closer look at it. It was an older doll, dirty and warn in some places, so it couldn't have been made resently. It had a raincoat on and blue hair, just like Coraline as well as her freakles. He raised his eyebrows, why on earth was there a doll that looked like the new neighbor kid inside his grandmothers trunk that probably hadn't been open since World War 2.

"Did you find it yet?" called out grandma. He looked down at the hole and said:

"Not yetཀ" he set down the doll and continued to look for the mouse, but it wasn't inside at all, and there wasn't anyway for it to escape otherwise. He huffed through his nose and looked at the old Coraline doll and desided to do something he had never done before. He put the doll inside of his coat, closed the lid of the trunk and went back downstairs and pretended to have the mouse in his hands.

"I-I-I g-got it, g-grandm-ma." he stuttered out, not really use to lying to her. She sqwealed out in panic, but still opened the door for him to let it out.

"Take it far from the houseཀ Make sure it don't come backཀ"

"I w-will." he said and ran out into the rain far out of sight of the house. Then he just stood there for a moment, and then ran back into the house. When he came into the house, his grandma was running around getting the vacume cleaner out and a can of disinfectent to clean the living room with.

"Horrible, nasty, desease ridden things," she was saying to herself, "hope we don't get sick from that discustin' thing." she looked up at him.

"Wyborne, give me your coat and gloves. I'm goin' to wash them to get any germs off of them." Wybie tried to think of something to say, to not give her the coat that had the doll inside of the pocket.

"Wh-w-well...uh, g-grandma. I-I'll j-just..." she lowered her hand and looked dagers at him.

"You didn't put that thing in your pocket now did you, 'cuz if you did Wyborne,"

"No, no of course not," he said, "I w-was just going to say that...uh, that I was going to get ready to get into the tub and wash up." he looked at her, hoping she wouln't find anything suspishious about it. She looked at him and then at the attic opeining.

"Before you do, close that attic door. You can finish dusting later on in the week." He nodded and did what he was told to do. He went into his room and closed the door and quickly pulled out the doll and hid it inside his clean clothes in his drawrs, knowing she wouldn't go looking in there. He then got some clean clothes and went into the bathroom to have a bath.

Later that night, after he and his grandmother went to bed, he got up and went to the dresser and pulled out the doll. He went back to bed with the doll in his hands and studied it. He was trying to figure out what where the odds of a doll that was made probably seventy years ago would look like a person in the present day. He then thought of a brilliant idea. He was sure that his grandma had forgotten all about the doll, heck she couldn't even go up the ladder anymore to the attic. It wasn't like she would find out anytime soon. And since it looked so much like Coraline; perhaps he could give her the doll and perhaps in the process get a friend in return. Atleast it was worth a shot, what could possibly go wrong.

Sorry for the long break of the story. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!