The young wife pulled her sweater tight as
a sudden gust whipped a handful of dead leaves past her ankles. Sure was starting to get cold, she thought.
Glancing down at the half-empty candy jar
at her feet, she was thankful she’d bought enough goodies for the hordes of
trick-or-treaters which continued to rampage through her neighborhood.
With only an hour to go, she breathed a
sigh of relief. At least she wouldn’t
have to break into last year’s stash of petrified candy corn. Or, worse, the spare change lodged in the
back of the sofa.
In a pinch, she wondered whether she’d be
able to get away with handing out those ketchup packets stashed in the cupboard
over the stove.
Although she doubted the kids
would buy her assurances that ketchup was “nature’s candy.”
So, mercifully, her house would be spared
the ravages wrought by pint-sized wrecking crews denied their sugar fixes.
With a break in the action, she picked up a
Fun-Size Milky Way bar. No, check that. TWO fun-size Milky Ways-more fun that way. With a weary sigh and mouth full of chocolaty
goodness, she plopped into the chair set by her open door.
No sooner had she sat down then four miniature
super heroes-Batman, Spiderman, and the unfortunately-named Captain Continence
and his sidekick, Wet Nap Boy, came trooping up her driveway.
Quickly hiding the empty candy wrappers in
the pocket of her sweater, she stood to welcome her visitors. They looked harmless enough, even the one kid-Captain
Continence?-who held his trousers up with one hand while dragging a sack full
of tooth decay with the other.
Greeted by a cheery chorus of “Trick or
Treats,” she smiled, extending the candy jar to the tiny defenders of truth,
justice, the American way, and proper hygiene.
Their needs sated, the junior crime
fighters excitedly scampered towards her neighbor’s house. Relieved her home continued to be spared, she
noticed a lone figure standing next a row of hedges at the end of her driveway.
Her visitor was fairly large. She figured he was one of those kids from the
middle school-the kind who refused to let go of his childhood. Usually they just grabbed a pillowcase
and headed door-to-door, their menace masked only by a surly, “I’m an
egg-thrower” when asked what their costume was.
This one was dressed up, though, although all in black. Kinda creepy, but innocuous enough, she supposed. But, what really spooked her was the hockey mask he wore and...was that a knife
in his hand? He looked just like
that...Freddy? Jason? No, he looked like Michael Myers! Yeeks!
With a trembling hand, she presented the
jar to the motionless figure. “Hey,
there. Do you want some candy?”
No answer.
Hmm, she thought, not too crazy about
this. Why doesn’t he just toss a couple
rolls of toilet paper in my trees and be done with it?
She closed her door, frantically trying to
figure out what to do.
At that moment, her husband’s car pulled
into the driveway.
“Oh, look,” he thought as he parked, “one
of those Halloween trick-or-treaters. Kinda
big, though.”
He got out of his car and cheerfully called
out to the kid, “Hey, howzit goin’?”
Nothing.
“That’s weird,” he thought.
Quickly turning his back, he entered the
side-door and saw his wife. She looked a
little freaked-out. “Hey, you see that
nut out there? What’s going on?”
Wide-eyed, she shrugged her shoulders and whispered,
“You got me. He’s just been standing
there for the past ten minutes. Uh...you
didn’t see if he had a knife or anything, did you?”
His eyes went wide and he stepped to the
closed door. Glancing through the
curtains, he said, “Yeah, sure looks like one.
Man, I don’t like this. I’m
turning off the outside light.”
Casting the porch into darkness, he motioned
for her to join him. Together, they
peered at the motionless form bathed in the yellow light of the streetlamp.
“Maybe he’ll get the idea we’re done for
the night,” she hoped.
“Yeah, I-hey! He’s starting to walk this way.”
His wife shrieked. Clapping her hands to the side of her head,
she dropped to the kitchen floor. “Oh,
my God! What’re we going to do!?”
He joined her. “I don’t know. I’d better call the cops!”
They heard shuffling footsteps as their
visitor scraped along the loose rocks of their driveway.
Starting to lose it, she begged, “No, don’t
leave me!”
Her husband scrambled on his knees to the
kitchen island. Maybe he’d find a knife
or....ladle!!?? What the-that won’t
do! He kept rifling through the
drawer. Cheese grater...potato
peeler...garlic press...ah, finally, a knife!
As he turned toward his almost-catatonic wife,
he heard the footsteps suddenly stop.
And the doorbell ring.
The two of them inched their way to the
window and gingerly peeked through the bottom of the curtain.
They heard low snickers of laughter behind
a hockey mask which bounced up and down.
Standing bolt upright, the husband flung
open the door and shouted, “You idiot!
You gave us both heart attacks!”
The Moral of the Story: It’s a good thing my brother has a sense of
humor. Otherwise, I mighta got stabbed
that night.
Happy Halloween!
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