In the Dark of Night – Best Halloween Ever
Hey everyone!
Halloween is my favorite time of year. The sweaters, the cold weather, the downtick in allergens. Then there’s the holiday itself. I love to express myself. In Path of Exile, in Magic the Gathering, in my writing. I love the chance to demonstrate the limits of my wit and my imagination through a creative medium.
Halloween is no different. The only limit on what you can accomplish is however far you’re willing to push yourself. I cannot imagine a more perfectly tailored holiday for how I choose to live my life.
I haven’t been able to do as much as I would like on that front the last few years. Eventually, things will calm down and I can once more have parties that evoke who and what I am as a person.
IN THE MEANTIME:
I have a wonderful story to tell that deals with supernatural themes and is set in an area of the country that I grew up in. So, for the first time ever, I present to you a side-story set in the In the Dark of Night Verse.
May your spooky season be full of wonder and delight!
In the Dark of Night – Best Halloween Ever
“You’re going to break it if you keep pulling it up like that.”
I delivered the gentle admonition to Ryan for what had to be the hundredth time in the few minutes we’d been walking down the gravel road towards town. Ryan stuck his tongue out at me then returned to swinging Anzi’s hand back and forth in time to whatever internal music drove him. Anzi looked down and raised an eyebrow at him. I also noticed the small smile she tried to hide.
Apparently I was the favorite no longer. The shameless little weasel didn’t even bother hiding his betrayal as he beamed up at Anzi. Then he ended the moment by pulling the hood up.
I snorted. In his defense, I might have made the batman costume he was wearing a tad big. I’d lived with the little snot long enough to know that he’d insist on wearing the costume long after the last piece of candy had been devoured. Anzi had given me a quizzical look as we spent the entire day shearing, sewing, and hemming the various costumes the Millers wore as they made their way down the lane. Much to my surprise and no small amount of alarm, Anzi had been highly proficient with all the sharp implements. If Tim hadn’t assured me of my safety, I’d start sleeping with one eye open after watching her slice fabric with gruesome precision all day long.
I was especially proud of Anzi’s costume. The halo and wings had been an argumentative pair to make, but the irony of dressing an angel in a chitzy angel’s costume had been too rich to pass up. I suppressed a giggle as I caught sight of the wings rocking side to side from Anzi’s rolling gait.
I was entranced by the gentle sway of hips until I realized what I was doing and turned my blushing face to consider the rest of the troupe. Jacqueline was with us because both the Millers and Jacqueline existed at the same time and some laws of the universe were constant. She was wearing a bold cocktail dress and her hair was adorned with an enormous flower. I had squealed with delight upon seeing it and we both immediately began singing ‘What a Little Moonlight Can Do’ in bombastic and off-key fashion.
She was pushing the Tweedles who were dressed as Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy. They were passed out, a tangle of limbs and red twine engaged in synchronized snoring. Even with all I’d learned, I still had no idea how they did that. Abigail was taking up the rear of the group, glasses flashing as she scribbled furiously in yet another notebook. She was, as she had done ever since dad left, refusing to participate. She wore shapeless jeans and one of his sweaters, this time a garish Christmas sweater. I had always found dad’s obsession with terrible Christmas sweaters morbidly fascinating. It had been like watching someone’s fashion sense die in real time; each sweater was somehow worse than the last.
Out in front was mom, the head of her progeny parade. She had dressed up like the thirteenth incarnation of Doctor Who. Exactly zero people in town would get the reference, but that hadn’t stopped her from glowing with pride when I’d been given the first viewing.
“I still don’t see the point in all of this.”
Anzi was looking back at me as she spoke. She was trying to scowl but her attempt at surly brooding was ruined by Ryan’s deplorable excess of personality. He was now using her hand to beat out a staccato rhythm on his tummy, to which he was singing a very garbled version of ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’.
“It’s simple Anzi; tonight is a night for all of us to celebrate what makes us individuals. Halloween is the purest form of personal expression!”
I wrapped my cloak around me dramatically and flashed my plastic fangs. I was Count Claireula, complete with white powdered face and ruby red lipstick. Jacqueline and I had stayed up late watching all of the classic monster movies and I loved Bela Lugosi’s take on the character. I didn’t have his stoic charm but I had nailed the costume.
After a brisk twenty minutes of walking, we came to the first house down the lane. It was Ms. Van DeBurg’s house. There were enormous jack-o-lantern bags full of leaves, as was tradition whenever I went over there to rake this time of year. She’d hung a few lights across the entrance and her love of spiders ensured there were plenty of cobwebs to be found.
We weren’t the only ones visiting. It was widely whispered among all the local children that Ms. Van DeBurg had a penchant for the finer candies in life. No puny sweet tarts or smarties would ever be found in her bowl. Nearly two dozen kids were lined up very politely as the spindly old lady in her witches getup went through practiced theatrics and exclamations with each child. Judging by the high-fives and fist pumps of the children as they left, it was worth the wait.
Mother and Jacqueline stood in the lane, engaged in their yearly debate of which Dracula was best Dracula while Jacqueline tucked her jacket on the Tweedles to make sure their nap wasn’t distrubed by the brisk evening wind. Abigail drifted in a distant orbit around the two ladies, never participating, always scribbling.
As I waited in line with Anzi and Ryan, I spied a little boy off to the side. He was looking down at the grass, burlap candy sack held at his side, toeing the dirt in indecision at whether he should join the line or not. His costume was outstanding, the ghoulish makeup done with care, the clothing perfectly torn and molded in all the right places. It must have taken ages to get it right.
Coming to a decision, I stepped out of line and over to the young boy. I got down on my haunches in front of him, looking him squarely in the eye. He seemed surprised at the attention. I could see him furiously deciding on the appropriate course of action. I held out a hand and grasped his in a firm handshake, forestalling any attempt at flight.
“Good evening young sir. My name is Claire. Do you want to come trick or treating with us?”
The young boy seemed to come alive at the contact, eyes widening, skin practically glowing as we shook hands.
“Golly miss, I’d sure love that. It’d be so swell to have a chance to show off my scary costume. Are you sure that’s okay?”
In answer, I pulled the young man over towards our small party. Ryan was now cloaking himself in his cape and throwing it out dramatically with his hands on his hips. Anzi was trying her best not to laugh, but the smile on her face gave away the game and Ryan loved hamming it up for an audience.
“Hey everyone, this young man will be joining us for trick or treating this evening. What’s your name?”
Anzi looked down at the young boy, then up at me. Her smile had been replaced by a stern frown. I shook my head, once, and made it clear without words that I would hear nothing on the subject of him joining us this evening.
“Hi, I’m Richard! Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Richard reached out his hand to Ryan to shake it. Ryan, having reached an internal decision, moved past the hand and gave him an enormous bear-hug. Richard was surprised, but only for a moment. After that, the two were thick as thieves. While the line moved steadily towards payday, the boys took turns shambling after one another. The other children, noticing how much fun the boys were having, soon joined in.
“I don’t think this is a good idea Claire. I don’t like it at all.”
Anzi was standing next to me, arms crossed, scowling after the children as they started playing a game of zombie tag. One of the older children, rolling their eyes and sighing, stepped in to referee when the inevitable arguments began. After a quick and merciless sorting into proper teams, the squealing laughter once more filled the evening.
“Anzi, you’ve been placed in my care to learn what it is to be human. This night, our costumes, these children. They’re all a part of the answer to that question.”
Anzi turned her head, huffing irritably. She hadn’t interrupted me, however, so I continued.
“If you truly wish to make something of your time with me, then I would ask that you keep your mouth shut and your eyes open.”
After a half an hour of squealing laughter and toddler sprinting, it was our turn to go before Ms. Van Deburg. She had a great act; spooky without being off-putting. She lavished attention on each child, then filled their bags with two enormous handfuls of nothing but the best candy. As they came back to us, Ryan and Richard flashed matching puppy-dog stares, and with a laugh I relented.
“You each get one. And only one!”
I almost choked when Ryan offered Anzi one of his beloved Butterfingers. Anzi took the candy and offered a fist towards the tiny batman, who bumped it with enthusiasm before stuffing his own candy bar into his mouth.
Richard looked at the candy in his bag, head cocked as he stared down at it.
“I’m not familiar with any of these, miss. Which one would you recommend?”
I smiled down at the young ghoul and picked up the twin pack of Reese’s Cups that he’d been given.
“These are God’s most perfect candy young man, so be sure you don’t take them for granted.”
I broke the package open with all the solemn grace of a religious rite before handing him one of the cups. I peeled the other and took a bite, claiming my due while also showing him the ropes.
He bit into the cup and immediately began shedding silent tears.
“This is the best candy ever, miss. I’ve wanted to show off my costume and have some candy for so long now.”
As we walked back across the yard and to the party waiting out front, I lingered in the back with Anzi and Richard. Ryan shot forward to offer Jacqueline and mother some of his candy. Bag held before him, he immediately began gabbling an excited toddler version of his encounter with the Witch of Plenty.
“I think I’m finally done waiting, miss.”
Soft blue light began to chew at the edges of Richard’s silhouette. The power I had gathered up and offered him with my handshake was running out. I was honestly amazed it had lasted this long.
“I can’t believe how much fun that was. I’m glad I got a chance to meet you. Thank you for the best Halloween ever!”
The light crawled inward, across the ghoul makeup that had been perfected by the slow rot of the young boy’s body. The clothes were moldy and stained from the dirt which had been thrown over him when he’d been carelessly buried. In the pale light cast by my power, Anzi and I could see the bruises around his neck from where he’d been strangled.
Before the light could finish the exorcism I had begun, Richard leapt forward for one last enormous hug. I squeezed him for all I was worth, crying just as hard as he was. What had been done to him was awful; that he had stayed so long out of longing for the thing he had been denied was even worse.
I couldn’t fix what had been done to him, but I could give him a chance to move on.
“Thank you, Claire.”
The whispered gratitude faded as the light finished it’s work. In the end, I was left hugging empty air, shedding tears for one long dead who was finally allowed to go home. I stood up, wiping the tears away as I smiled through the pain.
“That’s humanity Claire. Innocent desire and naked evil all jumbled together in the same package. I want to believe in the good things, in the nights of candy and laughter. I want to believe that humans are more than the marks on that young man’s neck.”
I looked at her, voice and backbone stiff as my smile became less forced.
“That is why I fight, Anzi. I fight to protect the passion that infuses this night. I love the joy that we find in finding each other. I will never stop protecting that joy, Anzi. No matter how many wrongs I am forced to right. We are more than our evils. More than our weaknesses.”
I nodded, once. Then I walked towards my family; towards the love and the laughter and the headache and the heartache they represented. Anzi, looking back at the fading light that had once been Richard, wrapped her arms around herself before she followed after us.
The End.
Halloweenfully,
The Unsheathed Quill
