HALLOWE’EN | HORROR STORY
The Mango Tree
Newly arrived in a small town, a boy meets a strange local girl who tells him about a magic tree
“Aw, I dunno, Penny. I think you’re fibbin’. I ain’t never heard of a mango tree dropping plum fruit tasting like a fizzy.”
“Oh, Michael — you’re from Sydney,” Penny answered with a roll of her sparkling green eyes. “An’ no one from the city knows what kinda good secrets we Bogans keep past the black stump.”
“Where’s that? The ‘black stump?’”
With hands upturned and thrust to the heavens, Penny shook her head, sending her braided, blonde pigtails flailing, “It’s not a real ‘black stump’; it means it’s far off — like a long way out of the way.”
Michael stood there looking at this girl. Since his family moved to Bowral last week, he’d hardly seen any kids his age. School was still more than a month off, and even though this rural town was only a couple hours from Sydney, it felt far away — past the ‘black stump’ far. And it was odd. This girl was weird, too, but she was also cute — in a silly sort of way.
Penelope Hathaway shrugged, turned and began walking away in a slow, knee-dip, toe drag in the dusty trail. “Suit yourself, Michael. C’mon, if ya want. Go on if you…
