Return To Sleepy Hollow (work in progress for my kids)

The man wanted badly to raise his head but knew better. There would be plenty of time for that later. Presently, he sipped his ale and returned his wandering attention to the book he held close to his face. The ale was of common variety but the book had been chosen with purpose, though it had yet to elicit the response he had hoped. A tome on witchcraft in New England was rarely seen outside of the parsonage; even there it would have been behind glass on a high shelf, safe from the wandering eye of a godly inhabitant of the town. It was obvious to the man that such godly folk were not apt to be in a pub at a time well after dark, which was all for the better. He had no qualms with them.

His eyes were darting from his book to keep close watch on a group of three men at the rear of the bar. One was inconsequential and did little else than constantly obstruct the view of his two companions. The other two however were loud enough to track even without constant view. The wide, squat man was bright red from drink. The unkempt state of the ring of gray hair along with his flush gave an indication of the headache he was to nurse in the morning.

Ah! But the other man. He was the reason for the faux reader's visit. He was to blame for the return of this specter of a man.

He was to blame for everything.

Him.

Brom Bones.

He stood at the bar next to his father-in-law, Baltus van Tassel. Both stood, drank, laughed, and went about raising glasses to a good harvest. They acted as though nothing had happened the previous October 31ˢᵗ. As if they hadn't conspired to drive the schoolmaster out of town and away from Katrina.

Unbeknownst to them the reader made a slight move with his glass, a sort of toast. He spoke, almost to himself but still giving the words breath. “Drink to your health, you pair of fools. And rue the day you crossed me. Ichabod Crane will have his revenge."