For quite some time, I have admired the style of the one and only Jenocidal Doll on Facebook (http://facebook.com/Jenocide13). I love her flair and how she adds a splash of colour to her gothic style, although I don’t know if you can really pin a label on her…How do you pin a label on someone who is so eclectic, so unique? She doesn’t really fit the mold when it comes to alternative fashion. She breaks it. She’s just herself and I think that’s what I admire about her most. She’s an artist, a true artist, in a world where real and raw art is on the decline. And you can tell that from her answers in this interview.
13 Questions! Interview with Jenocidal Doll
Q: You have *AMAZING* fashion sense! I love how you have your own unique style. Who or what inspires you when you are thinking of the perfect outfit for a particular occasion?
A: thank you very much!! honestly i dont have too much inspiration just general. i have basic things i like and end up wearing them. most times if i have a goal it never comes out right. lol!
Q: Do you consider yourself to be dressing up, expressing yourself, or just being you? Maybe even a combination of all three, or maybe even something more?
A: i never considered either of those options really, its whatever i feel in that morning and what the weather allows. im not going to do full velvet in 90 degree heat. :p
Q: Whenever you have an “off-day”, where you don’t feel like getting dressed, let alone putting on makeup, what do you do?
A: depends on who is coming over or if i have to leave the house. I dont like people to see me “naked” and feel uncomfortable without my “mask”. i dont do full on make up to go grocery shopping but i probably wont take my sunglasses off. only a few people can see my face. for some reason that is very private, but if someone asked me to do a a tasteful nude photo shoot i would be butt naked.
Q: If you had to “tone down your look” so to speak, what would you wear? How would you do your makeup? And what would be absolutely non-negotiable?
A: I have a few times, clothes would usually be the same, maybe i have to cover my tattoos. long sleeves. less black in make up and pink lip gloss. must have, i would die without is a choker. i need a choker, like the face, i feel weird without something on my neck.
Q: Do you wear things that have meaning or symbolism behind them? Maybe something that takes you back to your childhood?
A:meaning and symbols? not sure anymore. i wear a coffin necklace that ive had since high school and im never without my bondange bracelet. i do have a necklace that i never take off. it has random charms: a key from my dad’s cigar box that had random Marine corps days trinkets, a dagger through a skull that my aunt gave to me, a pentagram that my friend gave to me in high school (which im considering retiring it), an anchor for my cousin and best friend (One is in the navy and the other is out), and a handcuff key that a friend gave to me.
Q: Describe your style with five words.
A:….. Spooky causual with nerd flare?
Q: What are some interesting things others have said about your style?
A: dont remember too much, it’s a mix or positive and negative, mostly “i love your style!” or “Are you a devil worshipping whore and that’s why u look like that?”
Q: NAME FIVE FASHION STAPLES YOU CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT! (Either specific or generally speaking.)
A: …. i barely have one! LOL. I love tripp, they have good quality and fit well. other than that i dont look at brands, just clothes and price tags.
Q: What is the best colour to compliment black?
A: Depends on my mood, all colors mix well i think, but my usual colors r blue, purple, pink, red, burgundy or neon green.
Q: I like mixing goth with classic ‘80s looks, or sometimes a little 1920’s. And, being from Texas, I tend to mix in some Western gear, like cowboy hats and boots. What are some of your favourite styles to integrate?
A: I guess i like the throw in something nerdy if i can every once i a while. Something ironic or funny. i guess i like cyber because ive always kinda done a mix of spooky hard core goth and raver and cybers are just the bastard children of both. they will never admit it but they are…. they are. DANCE GRAVER DANCE!!!!
Q: Do you have something that you are known for wearing? A trademark of sorts?
A: Bondange braclet
Q: What kinds of music do you like?
A: I like a lot of stuff. EBM. Industrial. Goth. 80s. Rock. Mostly dance stuff. Electronic.
Q: How do you feel about the commercialisation of goth and vampires(i.e. Twilight)?
A: I want to kill every last one of those little twilight fans. I love vampires. If u want vampires go back to Interview or the true blood series. I loved vampires until twilight.
Wow! I was lucky enough to snag an interview with the Mod Ghoul, Horror Host Extraordinaire! Needless to say, it was quite exciting! He welcomed me into his crypt, which I must say was *lovely*, and I enjoyed gaining some insight straight from the Ghoul who knows best!
1. First of all, I’d like to get a little background on the Mod Ghoul. How did you become a ghoul, and where did you pick up that lovely accent?
The ghoul just seemed like a neat little thing to be and I chose to make him a combination of two of my favorite things. Horror and The Who. I played with the name The Mad Ghoul, which is a great old movie with George Zucco. I changed Mad to Mod which is my homage to The Who and the whole Mod scene that the band came out of. The accent came with that Mod persona. Mod’s were a youth subculture in Britain in the 60s and The Who came out of that scene. So the Mod Ghoul is a kind of Quadrophenia meets Dracula.
2. How old are you?
3. I noticed you have an interesting list of musical LIKES on Facebook. What are some of your favourites?
The Who of course but also the punk/new wave scene of the 80s. Bands like The Clash, The Jam, XTC, The Damned and The Sex Pistols.
4. What are some of the things the Mod Ghoul can’t live without?
Meat, snacks like Ring Dings and Moon Pies, music and a good horror movie.
5. What are some of your goals? International super stardom? Global takeover, perhaps?
I just want to continue to do my show and entertain all you lovely people. Who knows where this will go.
6. What type of diet must a ghoul follow to stay healthy?
Meat and junk food
7. LIST FIVE HORROR FLICKS THAT EVERYONE JUST *HAS* TO SEE!
Night Of The Living Dead
8 What is your favourite horror movie of all time?
There are so many that I love but if I had to pick just one it would have to be Horror Hotel. Grew up with that one and it still has such a creepy feel to it. Of course The Wolfman has a soft spot with me since that was the first horror movie I ever saw.
9. Is there anything that scares you?
Heights and religious judgmental people. Judgmental people in any walk of life.
10. I’m sure the life of a ghoul is pretty busy. What do you do to unwind?
I just crank up the tunes, sit back with a cold beverage and jam. Don’t think of anything. Well, I’m always thinking of the next show but still…
11. Are there any current or future projects that you’re working on that you could tell us about?
Always thinking. Look out for me mate Ewan MacDaddy, Scottish rapper. He will be popping up here and there.
I want to give the Mod Ghoul a *HUGE* thanks for taking the time to answer my questions. I had so much fun! Great things lie ahead of him!
Don’t forget to check out his Facebook page:
You can find the videos of His Ghoulishness right here:
To chat with fellow horror fans, you can join the good folks at Tinger TV (hosted by the Mod Ghoul himself!):
Take a peek at Weird Web Theater, created by A. Ghastlee Ghoul and the Mod Ghoul, another great place for all of you horror fans to hang out.
Shapeshifting is generally associated with Native American culture and legend, but I can’t say for certain whether or not it is regarded as truth among Native Americans themselves. However, it has become a sort of mainstream interest with paranormal and occult enthusiasts, with books and websites that explain how to shapeshift and documented sightings of shapeshifters. The idea behind shapeshifting is that one can become just about anything they want, whether it’s an animal, a tree, or a chair!
There are so many stories of werecreatures. Werecreatures are generally large bipedal canines or felines, but I’m sure there are others. Maybe there are werehorses, werebutterflies, and weredolphins. Who knows! It might seem a ridiculous stretch, but to someone who believes in werewolves, anything is possible!
The main difference, to my understanding, between shapeshifters and werecreatures is that a shapeshifter does not only have the ability to choose what they want to become and can will it at any time, but that they take on the appearance of your average every-day housecat, or maybe a common raven. And no one is the wiser. With a werecreature, legends usually state that the transformation is usually out of the person’s control, and they do not appear as a normal animal, but something larger and monstrous.
( THIS JUST IN! My friend, Audrey, who is quite the werewolf expert, enlightened me a bit more upon these creatures. I had her read this because if you need to know something about werewolves, she’s the one to go to. I was so intent upon the story rather than the legend, I failed to mention one of the more interesting takes! But it’s okay, because Audrey was there to remind me. She responded: “In many cultures, the were can also shift at will. Like European legend of a man who puts on the pelt of a wolf, or wears it like a belt can take on the form. Then take it off again when he doesn’t want it anymore. Or even in old Norse Mythology, those who follow Fenris were given the ability to take on the form of his children at will. =)” If you’re interested in reading some of Audrey’s inspirational writings, you can find it here:
But werewolves, my friend…Werewolves are a whole ‘nother story!
I am not talking about lyncanthropy, where a person believes themself to be a wolf and sometimes possesses super-human strength during a full moon while staying in human form. People suffering from lycanthropy actually visualise themselves in the form of a wolf, and bite and claw at people, and when they are locked in a room they sometimes tear at the walls or doors at an attempt to escape. Some even act on their desires of bloodlust, whether it is upon small animals, raw meat, or even people. It has been noted by some that people with this affliction actually show more agility and coordination when they are walking on all fours than they do when they are walking upright. Although lycanthropy is an interesting topic, my motive in this article is to give a little background on your Everyday-All-American Blood-Thirsty Werewolf!
Generally speaking, werewolves are regular people who turn into wolves when the full moon rises. There are many theories on why someone is cursed to dwell among the damned. Gypsy spells. A bite from another werewolf. A pact with the Devil. Yes, there are some who become a werewolf by choice. Their history is rich, dating back centuries ago and from what I’ve read, seems to have started in Europe, though there are werebeings in so many cultures from all over the world. So, technically, our “American” werewolf is actually a mixture of legends and myths (and perhaps some truth) of the European werewolf, along with the eclectic mixture of cultures that we find here in the U.S.
But, as a true-blooded Texan, and I wanted to write about some down-home werewolf stories. I turned up a couple of creepy tales, along with a very special story which was told to me firsthand! So, read on…if you’re not easily scared. Mrs. Gregg of Greggton, Texas, had a brush with a strange creature in the late 1950’s. Her husband was away on business, so she was alone that night. There was a storm rolling in, so she decided to push her bed closer to the open window to enjoy the cool fresh air. She drifted off to sleep, and shortly thereafter was awakened by the sound of something clawing at the window screen. There was a sudden crash of lightening, and that’s when she caught a glimpse of a large creature with the face of a wolf. She described him as “huge” and “shaggy”, and his eyes, she said, were “baleful”, “glowing” and “slitted”. She grabbed a flashlight and watched the thing run into a cluster of bushes, waiting for it to run out from the shrubbery so that she could get a better view of it. She fully expected to see the monster pop out, but instead, she saw an “extremely tall man” walking quickly toward the road before the black night swallowed his form.
One of my favourite werewolf stories takes place in Lawton, Texas. In 1970, there was an outbreak of sightings over the course of three days, and calls were flooding into the police department left and right! One man had a heart attack when he looked out his window and saw a beast having a drink from his fish pond. A group of soldiers stationed in the area also saw the monster. There was another man who looked out of his apartment window and saw it leaning against a railing. I don’t know what railing he was leaning against, but everything I’ve read on the Lawton werewolf says that he was leaning against a railing, so that’s all I know. Anyway, he thought it was someone in costume until the beast jumped nearly twenty feet to the ground and ran away with the gait of a monkey! The part that I find most amusing about this story is that the wolf-man was wearing pants that were a few sizes too small for him. In most real life werewolf stories I’ve heard, the werewolves are just gallivanting around in the buff! I think the clothes gives the creature a more humanistic quality than some of the other tales I’ve heard.
Now, I cannot leave out the Converse Werewolf! I live fairly close to Converse, so this story hits home and makes me wonder what might have become of the creature. In the 1800’s, a farmer sent his son out to kill a deer and bring it home for supper. The boy, aged fifteen, set out to do just that. It was two or three days before he came home, and so the farmer went out to find him. He heard a sound and set off in that direction with a ray of hope, but what he found was an eight-foot-tall creature hovering over the young man. The poor boy had been eaten, and when the farmer approached, the animal disappeared into the woods. It was said that the man became very depressed and died because he couldn’t cope with what had happened, and quite possibly felt as if he was to blame for his son’s death.
I have heard about the Cleo Face, but I don’t know what to make of it because I haven’t been able to turn up a lot of information about it. N.Q. Patterson was one of the early residents of Kimble County and had an interesting background. He carved gravestones for a living, and during a bout with tuberculosis, he spent a lot of time carving things on the rocks that lined Bear Creek which ran along his property. I would love to view an image of the Cleo Face, but there’s very little info that I can find on this particular case as it is. Time had made it harder to discern the image, so I wonder if it’s visible now since it was carved near the turn of the twentieth century, or if anyone had taken pictures of it. The face could have been that of a bear, but it was rumoured that it was actually the face of a werewolf. Who knows? But if anyone is interested in finding out about the image, maybe we should plan a roadtrip to the little ghost town of Cleo! I would love to stop at little diners and gift shops along the way and collect stories about the local legend.
And here is my final short, the reason for my delay in getting this piece done. I wanted to make sure I got down the important details to this one, and I was finally able to sit down with Joe and my laptop and ask the questions I needed to know.
This happened in Devine, Texas in 1963, around midnight and about a week before Christmas. It was a moonlit country night. Joe, a teenager at the time, was taking shortcuts through fields after watching a picture show. As he made his way home, he came upon a large German Shepard, larger than any he’d ever seen. At first all he could see was a pair of glowing orange eyes, perhaps a reflection from the moonlight? Thinking the dog was friendly, he leaned over and put his hand out. “Here, boy!” But then the dog started growling, slowly making its way toward Joe. He thought at first that the dog must have been rabid; living in the country, it is not rare. And that’s when he ran, two miles back toward the highway that he had just come from. The dog was nowhere in sight, and it was late and he wanted to go home. So, he walked back toward a creek. It was about a mile from his home, but there was a lot of brush and it was hard to see, so he made a detour toward a trailer where his friends lived, right next door to their parents’ house. There was still no sign of the dog, and he was going to go through the corral to get to the trailer where his friends lived. He looked around, and was right about to go through the gate, when in the blink of an eye, there was the dog on the other side of the gate! It was as if it was waiting for him. It seemed nearly impossible! It was clear that this was no ordinary animal. There was a large post, about ten feet tall, six feet around, where they would tie the cows to milk them. He climbed the post to safety, even though it was smooth and took some effort, and sat at the top. Again, there was no sign of the dog. When he thought it was safe, he climbed back down, went through the gate and toward the trailer. He knocked, but his friends weren’t home. Luckily, the door was usually unlocked. But the dog was still lurking outside. Joe was in the living room, in complete darkness, and the dog started to pound and scratch against the walls of the trailer. “BANG-BANG-Scraaaaaaaatch…BANG-BANG-Scraaaaaaaatch…” No matter where he went in the pitch-black trailer to find safety, it was right outside. BANG-BANG-Scraaaaaaaatch….
The dog pounded hard, rhythmically, and clawed on the outside of whichever room he tried to seek refuge in. Somehow, it knew which room Joe was in. So, Joe began to pray. Soon he heard another dog. He was sure it was the family dog, a little collie they called Lassie. He heard the two dogs fighting, and then he heard one of the dogs give a few final whimpers of defeat. There was no doubt about it. One of the dogs had been killed, and he was sure it was that little collie. It didn’t stand a chance against the German Shepard. After that, Joe passed out from fear and exhaustion.
The next morning, he went outside and his friend’s mother was tending to her garden. She was shocked to see someone come out of the trailer since her sons were working with their dad at the cotton gin. He told her what had happened, and she didn’t say a word. There was no air conditioning in her house, and her window was open and had been all night. She didn’t hear the dog fight, and here’s the kicker: It was right near her open window. There were no traces of the battle, and Joe was sure he would have found blood or even the ragged body of the collie, because it was a very vicious fight. But then, Lassie trotted right by, as if everything was fine, and without a single scratch on her! Interestingly enough, it was thought that some people on the property engaged in white magick. Was this dog a normal dog? A demon? Or some sort of shapeshifter?
On a sidenote, someone who lived in the vicinity had problems with the radio and television coming on in the dead of night, all by itself. There were other strange things, like disembodied voices speaking in Spanish in a little barn. When they looked through the windows, they could see shadowy people, but when they opened the door, there was nobody there. When walking the empty fields at night, people would hear someone walking next to them…in shackles! They could hear the chains as clear as a bell, and when they would stop, the sounds would stop. Most people refused to go out by themselves at night! But those stories are on a whole ‘nother topic completely!
I can’t help think of the bazillions of possibilities that could explain any given one of these stories. Myth. Local legend. Hoaxes. Pranks. Undiscovered or misidentified creatures. Delusions. Vivid imagination. Or, could it be, that there are things out there that exist beyond our knowledge? Something unexplainable? Something terrifying? Something evil.
Ask yourself what you honestly believe. In the daytime, it’s easy to identify such tales nothing more than campfire stories to give a thrill of frightful fun. But when you close your eyes to drift off to Dreamland, or when you’re walking on a path dimly illumed by the moonlight, and suddenly you visualise a pair of glowing “orange” or “baleful slitted” eyes staring at you unblinking, you just may think a little differently.
My dad was always telling me about this music box that, every now and again, would go off all by itself. It wasn’t a real Hummel, but an imitation that to the untrained eye looked quite similar to the real deal. Yeah, right. Suuuuuuure, I thought to myself. I knew of the music box. It was one my mom had for years and years. If it was going off all on its own, why didn’t I ever hear it? Even in the middle of the night when I was sound asleep, why didn’t the thing ever wake me up?
One day he was talking about it, and curiosity got the better of me. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in this stuff. We’ve had all sorts of weird and unexplainable things happen here. For instance, one day as my parents were sitting at the kitchen table, a magnet flew from the fridge and landed right in front of them, and there’s no logic as to how the thing could have achieved such an angle and such a distance without any help. And one time my brother (who would probably say he was making a sandwich at the time), along with my dad, saw me flash by them. But it wasn’t me. Anyway, I guess I just wondered why I had never experienced anything with the Hummel, and maybe I felt a bit left out.
While my dad was at work one day, I went to their room, picked up the music box, and I wound it up. I wound it pretty good, but the gears inside (which you could see when you held the hinged lid up) didn’t move. Okay, the stupid thing is broken. The gears weren’t moving. It must have been some other sound he was hearing. I don’t know, maybe the Ice Cream Man was making his (or her) rounds in the middle of the night and he was hearing the music from the Ice Cream Truck. Maybe it was some alarm on some new-fangled machine that we’d just gotten and neglected to read the instructions to. Who knows? But there was no possible way it coulda been the music box.
Now let’s fast-forward. It’s a few days later, maybe two or three, and my dad’s at work. I’m in my room. I hear a happy little song. It was like little chimes going off in a melodic tune. “Hmmm,” thought I, wondering where it was coming from. Now, I would have thought it was a cell phone, but at that time, my mom’s cell had a ring like a regular phone. It is significant to point such things out today because the first question asked by our modern youth would be, “Could it have been your cell?” I didn’t even have a cell phone at that time. Oh, and by the way, I’ve noticed the majority of teens and pre-teens have cell phones, but it wasn’t like that then. I didn’t have one, but the majority of my peers were still using landlines like I was, so it wasn’t unusual.
Back to the story. Suddenly, I thought of that music box!I took off like a bolt of lightning to my parents’ room which was just across the hall, but I didn’t want to miss out! I still heard the music playing. I stared at the music box, which was playing at a normal speed. I picked it up and held it in my palm, careful not to jostle it too much. I sloooowwwwwly lifted the lid so I could watch the gears. And as I lifted the lid, the music slowed, chimed the last few notes, and stopped before I could even get a glimpse of the gears to see if they were moving.
I figured that when I wound it up, maybe the gears didn’t move because the pin was down, holding them in place. But if memory serves, I tried moving the pin and tried a few things before giving up on it the few days before. However, maybe that’s the way this music box worked. I don’t know. There are lots of reasons the gears may not have budged. And maybe, even though it took a couple of days, maybe there was some vibration that jiggled the table and in turn the music box, setting the gears in motion. That, I can explain. But for ever logical reason I come up with, I find myself asking more questions.The thing just didn’t seem to work at all, so how did it manage? Why would it take so long for the box to go off on its own? Why would it go off in the middle of the night if no one was messing with it the other times? And the music box was just one weird thing that happened, so how could I ever explain all of the others?
While most instances with the Hummel were random and unprovoked, I think my interest in it may have sparked something. Since I had been playing around with it, trying to see what made it tick so to speak, whatever entity that made it work knew just how to get my attention.
If you haven’t checked out the sample chapter of Forever Gothic: Witchery and Rivalry, you can check it out here:
And if you’re interested in learning how Marnie, one of the main characters, got her name, well here’s the story!
But for now, I’m going to focus on a complimentary character in the Forever Gothic series, which is currently unpublished. This character is from the second book, Forever Gothic: Curse of the Diva Mummy! His name is Basti, after Bast the cat-headed god of ancient Egypt. You can click the thumbnail to get an up-close-and-personal view of what Basti may have looked like. Or maybe you picture him fluffier. Or chubbier. But after I had written about Basti, I came across this cat statue and had to buy it! And yep, I named him Basti.
But before introducing him, I’d like to give a little background about where he came from. In Forever Gothic: Curse of the Diva Mummy, Princess Ankhanahra, an ancient Egyptian mummy, comes back from the dead and is as beautiful as ever. She was known for her jealousy and for her cruelty when she reigned as Princess. And, much like the fashionable women in Hollywood who carry little chihauhuas in their purses, Ahnah (pronounced just as it looks, and don’t call her Anna! She just might have something to say about that…) had a black cat named Basti whom she dressed in jewellery to match her own and who ruled beside her on her throne in ancient times. In fact, Basti probably had his own little thrown to sit on.
Now fast-forward to modern times. Lo and behold, some idiot awakens the mummy at the museum. Marnie loves to wear lots of black eyeliner, much like Ahnah who still dresses like it’s 3000 BC, which makes Ahnah see Marnie as a rival to her beauty. When Ahnah is not busy hanging out with the popular crowd or admiring herself in her new cheerleading uniform, she has but one goal: Destroy Marnie so that she will be the most beautiful girl in Morning View High.
And when Ahnah is awakened, Basti comes to life, too. Now, not to give a spoiler, but we know that if there are going to be other Forever Gothic books, it’s safe to assume that this one probably has a happy ending (with lots of suspense in between)! And Rhonda Drake, Marnie’s friend, ends up taking Basti in when all is said and done; after all, witches need a familiar, so why not adopt Basti to help her along in her magick? After all, black cats are said to be good for that sort of thing. (For those that aren’t *familiar* with the term “familiar”, a familiar is an animal that acts as a sort of assistant to a witch and can sometimes shapeshift into other animals, or possesses magickal powers.)
But Basti is no ordinary cat, which you may have guessed already. After seeing some of the horrific things that the Princess is capable of and being forced to stay by her side and wear that ridiculous jewellery and used as a fashion accessory, he may have just had enough. Not to mention the fact that he has been living in some sort of spiritual Afterlife before being brought back to modern times in his physical body, so he has a knowledge that is thousands of years old. He’s a very wise soul, and people who meet him are always taken aback at how he seems to know what they’re saying. And sometimes, it even looks as if his eyes are twinkling with understanding, or that he is actually smiling contentedly to himself.
Basti wasn’t with Marnie, Willis, and Rhonda from the beginning of book one (Forever Gothic: Witchery and Rivalry), but I think he makes a nice little compliment to the stories. This cat doesn’t just catch mice; he helps the kids keep the streets monster-free!
It was a Sunday evening. Jessie walked home from her best friend’s house, just as she did every Sunday. It was still early, but as the seasons had changed, the sky grew dark earlier than it had over the summer. She knew she shouldn’t have brought her backpack, but it was full of fun stuff that she and Abigail liked to do. Arts, crafts, odds and ends. Next time she would take a few things out so she wouldn’t have to lug all that extra weight around.
All of a sudden, Jessie heard something behind her. She turned to look, but nothing was there. She shrugged her shoulders and went along on her merry way. But then, she heard it again. This time she stopped, and started walking slowly. The sound slowed to her own pace. She kept walking, hoping to get home soon. And then she came to a lamplight and curiosity overtook her.
She turned cautiously, squinting her eyes to see in the distance. Nothing there. And when she looked down, all that she saw was her own shadow which startled her at first. Weird, she thought. It looked really tall. Then she laughed at her silliness when she realised that the noise was coming from the mass of keychains dangling on her backpack. So, she continued to walk.
When Jessie came to the next street lamp, she felt something, maybe a rock, in her shoe. She caught a glimpse of her shadow, which looked bigger than before. The light can play funny tricks with shadows sometimes, she thought. As she knelt down with the weight of the backpack upon her, struggling to take off the shoe, she wasn’t paying attention to the shadow which had grown even more in size.
Suddenly, it peeled off the pavement in the shape of a huge person, red-yellow glowing eyes fixed upon her. She wasn’t paying much attention to it as it rose up and swallowed her, because she knew that the light can play funny tricks with shadows. The shadow-thing flattened back out on the sidewalk and merged into the other evening shadows, which Jessie was now a part of.