"Trick Or Treat"

"Trick Or Treat"

         The October chilling wind caused colorful leaves to spiral in the corner where cement steps joined the brick wall of our building. The dampness of this Kansas City evening made some of Autumn's leaves cling to the sidewalk with only the outer edges flapping at the final moments of daylight. Halloween, through the eyes of this ten year old, was the third most fun day in the year; outdone only by Christmas and my birthday. I watched anxiously from our 2nd story balcony while my sister Kathy, received final costume adjustments. The streets below prepared for the deluge of children seeking sweets. What seemed to be hours of primping prior to the unveiling of the wicked witch, was actually only a few impatient moments.
         Time escaped me during the fun of going house to house, receiving candy from strangers for no real reason. I was dressed as a vampire with my hair slicked back, fake fangs and a black cape. I had been around the block once with my buddies, the hobo and the clown and our paper sacks were full of sweets. We managed to stay a couple of houses ahead of my sister and her friends, the princess and the fairy. The streetlight on the drug store corner provided an opportunity to inspect our collected treasure. From that corner you could see little ghosts and goblins moving between pale porch lights and hear “trick or treat” echoing faintly in the distance. Dusk faded into darkness as I watched the elderly couple across the street being visited by trick or treaters.
         Their gray stone house had a large elevated porch and a stone wall that wrapped around the entire front; then down the right side to the lawn. The front of the house faced the grade school playground with centered stairs, stone pillars and a walkway to the street. The stone porch wall was shrouded with large evergreen bushes. Following the ring of the doorbell, a pale yellow porch light would cast an outline of the visitors at the door. Adult giggles followed “trick or treat” from the kids as a wooden screen door opened. Old hands distributed goodies into anxious paper sacks from a large bowl. The closing of the screen door and the absence of light followed a faint singsong “thank you”.
         Soon our parents would be calling for our fun to end, but I had devised a scheme for the finale of this Halloween. I brought along some firecrackers left over from the 4th of July and as I twisted three firecracker fuses to form one I said to my buddies,”Watch this.”
I ran across the street, up the stairs and looked back at them as I stood in front of the door on the porch of the elderly couple. I had a simple and flawless plan: open the door, ring the bell, light the fuse, drop the firecrackers and run before the inside wooden door opened. The screen door was spring-loaded and would automatically shut enclosing the explosion. I would be across the front of the porch, down the side stairs and into the darkness before the door opened and the firecrackers exploded. The elderly couple would be startled, disenchanted about kids these days; but I would be the epitome of cool.
         With the firecrackers in one hand, a lighter in the other hand and looking like a little evil vampire, I opened the flimsy wooden screen door. An unexpected audible creak echoed on the portch but I proceeded to wedge myself between the two doors. I could hear shuffling footsteps as I stretched toward the doorbell and simultaneously pressed the button while I released the lighter from my other hand. Everything was moving in slow motion now as I watched the lighter fall and heard it clatter on the wooden threshold. With the screen door pressed against my left side I displayed my superior hand eye co-ordination. I swooped down pushing the screen outward and grabbed the bouncing lighter. I flicked the lighter’s flame onto the firecracker fuses and heard the inner doorknob twisting open. I watched the hissing red fuses fall and scatter upon impact with the wooden threshold; then completely disappear when touched by the yellow porch light. The timing of my plan was dangerously deteriating.
         I straightened upward and turned as the bright light revealed the face of the old man with the old woman’s face floating just behind him. I pushed outward illuminated in the rectangle of light from inside their house as the screen door rebounded and the thin inside handle inserted itself into the folded seam of my vampire’s cape. I could see the startled look on their faces and the glass bowl of candy release from the old man’s hands while my vampire cape stretched tight from the screen door’s finger to the tied end behind my neck. I heard each firecracker explode and saw the glass bowl shatter in a sea of cellophane wrapped candy. In one smooth, fluid motion similar to a football running back's spin move, I plunged from a semi horizontal position while twisting backward out of the rectangle of light; face first into a gray stone porch pillar. My momentum carried me over the rock wall downward three feet through the evergreen bushes and onto the wet lawn.
         Dazed and bleeding I wobbled around the side of the house, through the back yard and across the street. I stumbled toward the drug store corner wiping blood, sweat and tears from my face with a torn and tattered vampire’s cape. The hobo and the clown were running toward me exclaiming my extreme coolness. Walking briskly behind them was the princess, the fairy and the wicked witch with a look of disgust while exclaiming my extreme childishness. She and her friends had witnessed the show from the grade school playground.
”You are a mess. Let’s go home.” she said, and led me toward the drug store corner. I heard the sound of broken glass being swept across concrete off to my right. I did not look.
         I asked my sister not to tell but my words were useless. When we got into the apartment I headed immediately into the bathroom to clean up my wounds. I began rehearsing the words of my fabricated story explaining my reddened raw nose, the golf ball sized welt on my forehead, multiple scratches, the scraped knuckles and torn costume. While walking through the dining room toward the table I began my explanation of how I ran into some trash cans in the alley. My sister interrupted with, “I already told them what you did!" That kept “lying” from being added to vandalism. The truth about my activities produced tears as I realized how terrible what I had done sounded.
         My mother re-cleaned my wounds using bubbling, stinging liquids, gauze and tape. She sent me to my room and told me to think about what I had done. In a few minutes my parents entered my room and the instant I said to myself, "Here comes the lecture." it began.
"Your sister did the right thing." my mom began.

"The truth is never wrong." my dad added.

"Now I know you don't want to hear a lecture", she lectured.

"Don't ever do anything to anyone that you don't want done to you." my dad said with that far away, philosophical look in his eyes.
         In the hallway beyond the looming presence of my parents, I could see Kathy making faces and doing the pointed finger (shame on you) peeling gesture. My mom reached out and touched my face to recapture my attention and the wicked witch jumped out of sight just before my dad turned to view my distraction. They went on and on, back and forth with cliches about knowing right from wrong; treating people and property with respect and why I shouldn’t have done what I did. Finally they asked what I thought my punishment should be. Knowing that the candy bowl mess had already been cleaned up I thought I might volunteer for that task. Of course that did not work.
         My punishment had me knocking on the elderly couple’s door with my dad. After my personal apology I agreed to rake and bag October’s fallen sea of leaves from their lawn. I offered my labor services for an hour every Saturday for the following six weeks. They were such a nice old pair of beings, always happy to see me and paid me more than my regular weekly allowance for that 1 hour of work each Saturday. There would be fresh cookies and a soda waiting for me after each task was completed. They always added,"Don't tell your parents about the money; that's our little secret."
They were cool.
         I learned a great many things from the events of that Halloween. Being cool is not cool when it damages others or your integrity. Timing is everything. Wooden screen doors make a loud creaking noise. Doing good deeds is always worth the effort. Many other life lessons that I pass on to my children, for their children.
Stephen Becker