The Gift Shop by Ari Jackson

Edgar Alan died in 1874, age ten, struck by the back-wheel of a horse drawn buggy. Some say the wheel found a deeper love within the strands of his burnt umber painted, feathery locks, and refused to part with them — for the wheel dragged him across the cobblestone by the knotted locks of his hair, forty-three feet past the starting mark before it finally let go. They say he painted the town red that night. The streaks of blood, splattered where he bounced, but painted beautiful straight lines down where he dragged. Crimson Valley, they call it now — the road that took Edgar Alan.

“I hope no one believes that,” Edgar whispers to me, from where he sits on my shoulder. He scratches his head — the back, where it first begins to cave in, a long diagonal line where the wheel rolled over him, leading to the shorter jagged parts of his hair, where the wheel grew attached.

“Why shouldn’t they believe it?” I ask.

We stand behind the gift shop counter, staring out into the l...

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Summary: Edgar Alan, who died at the age of ten in 1874, haunts the Alan family estate along with his brother...

Review: The story cleverly weaves together mystery, betrayal, and redemption. The suspense builds as Liza an...

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