Halloween Story 2003

Recovering from vertigo, and praying that my short-term disability would be approved, I didn't have much of a chance to get into the Halloween spirit. I felt like Sally from It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, I had been cheated out of "tricks-or-treats". I suppose that's why, on October thirty-first, I got in my Honda accord and just started driving, hoping to catch something of this haunting holiday (as if the vertigo hadn't been enough).
I turned down a street that I had never been on before, though the name rang familiar: Mockingbird Lane. Arriving at dusk I was treated to the sight of children in costume with bags full of annual goodies from friendly neighbors. I drove below the speed limit and took in the magic as the radio played "Monster Mash". That's when I noticed a kid, about eight- or nine-years-old, who had a bag but wasn't in costume, he looked like he was trick-or-treating in regular school clothes. Before I knew it I was rolling down my window, ready to give this boy a lecture on Halloween etiquette as "Monster Mash" faded into "Purple People Eater".
"Hey, kid," I started, but just then a storm came up and most of the other children went into cars and minivans to escape the rain, my lecture turned into, "you need a lift?"
Immediately I regretted my offer. In today's world a child will think you're a kidnapper, or worse.
"No, it's okay, I don't live far from here." Came his response.
It was funny. He didn't sound frightened, but actually seemed to be enjoying the storm-lightning, thunder, and all.
The kid seemed to be heading toward home. I sat parked in my car a moment, listening to "Purple People Eater" and wondering what the next novelty song would be. It was "Bad Moon Rising" and as soon as the boy was out of sight I started driving again, singing along, but making up funny lyrics: "Don't go 'round tonight, it's bound to take your life, there's a bathroom on the right."
I had driven straight, the same direction the child had walked, but I was looking for a safe place to turn around. That's when I saw it. Wow! Here it was, Halloween, and I had managed to find a haunted house attraction right here in this neighborhood! I turned into the driveway and was a little confused that my vehicle, and some weird novelty automobile, were the only cars on the lot. Well, I figured, perhaps the storm is keeping everyone else away. After failing to spot a ticket booth I walked onto the porch and searched for a doorbell. There wasn't one. Nevertheless, it didn't occur to me that this could be a private residence. I took a knocker in hand and pounded on the door. To my surprise, the boy I had just spoken with answered. Oddly enough, now he seemed to be dressed in costume. His hair was combed like Dracula's in an old movie and his clothes looked like something a wealthy child of the 1800's might have worn. He wore a dinner coat, short pants, and dark dress socks that went up to his knees.
"Do you work here?" I managed to inquire.
He rolled his eyes and grimaced at me a bit, "No, this is where I live!"
"Oh," I replied, watching spiders spin webs from the ceiling to the floor, "I thought this was a," my explanation trailed off as I realized the kid was staring up at me with an innocent and intrigued face, obviously wondering what I thought his home was and "haunted house" didn't seem a kind thing to tell a boy who was probably only in the fourth grade.
When I didn't complete my sentence fast enough he asked, "Are you lost, mister?"
It isn't difficult to get lost in the maze of these residential streets, so, without being totally sure that I was lost I said I was.
"Gee, that's neato," he responded, smiling, "lost on Halloween!"
I thought it was an unusual response, but I smiled too and said, "Yeah."
"Well, I'm sure Grandpa or Pop can help you find your way back," before I knew it he took my hand and walked me into the living room, "they're with my Mom at a Halloween party, I'm home with my old cousin, Marylin." He stopped before we went into the living room and warned: "Marylin isn't beautiful like the rest of us. Oh," he realized he hadn't told me, "my name's Eddie."
"Hi, Eddie, I'm Mark."
The living room was an eerie mesh of ancient and modern, with outright weird thrown in for good measure. There was a harpsichord and a television, a sofa and a chess set and next to that could only be an electric chair, or at least, made to look like one. "Wow," I exclaimed, "your family really likes Halloween."
"You bet," Eddie said as he took a seat on an armrest on the sofa. "Pop goes wild for it, even more than a Friday the thirteenth!"
My responding laugh was a little more nervous than I had intended it to be. I noticed their television was tuned to AMC and a marathon of old horror movie classics was proceeding.
"This is my cousin, Marylin," Eddie announced, I looked up from the tube to see, "I told you," Eddie whispered, recalling the warning about her appearance. Either it was because they were relatives, or because Eddie hadn't hit puberty, or a combination of the two, but according to my eyes there wasn't anything wrong with cousin Marylin. "This is Mark," the boy introduced us.
Marylin was carrying in a cookie tray from the kitchen, loaded with baked goodies; she put it down and shook my hand. "Hello," we greeted each other in unison and smiled.
"I just finished making these for Eddie and I," she glanced at the tray of cookies, "would you like one?"
I said thank you and was amused as I looked at the tray to find sugar cookies in the shapes of spiders, bats, pumpkins, ghosts, and cats. I selected a pumpkin. "Very good," I acknowledged after a bite. We sat on the sofa; Eddie grabbed one of each cookie and sat on the armrest next to me. I was between them, as Eddie enjoyed The Brides of Dracula Marylin and I started to converse. I explained how I had become lost in the maze of suburbia. Then I told her a little about myself. About God's call on my life to be a pastor.
"Oh," Marylin remarked, "they preside over funerals."
"Yes," I grinned, surprised that was her only frame of reference for ministers, "among other things, like weddings," I hinted.
"Uncle Herman and Aunt Lily are at a Halloween party, I'm sure Uncle Herman or Grandpa can help you get back home."
"Wonderful," I said, but the thought of leaving soon was unpleasant.
We continued to talk and occasionally glanced at the television. I noticed little Eddie was all eyes and ears. "Won't this frighten him?" I asked Marylin.
She glanced at her young cousin and then at the teevee. "No, he's used to it from Grandpa's stories."
I didn't really take her meaning, so I just shrugged.
At about midnight I realized I was probably over-staying my welcome. We were having such a nice time I hadn't been looking at clocks. Suddenly, the front door opened, like someone had torn it off its hinges. I jumped and Marylin smiled, "Oh, good, that's them."
I sat transfixed, wondering if one or more of them was angry, or worse, drunk. Nevertheless, Marylin and Eddie had been so nice; it was hard to believe they came from a troubled family. Eddie, in fact, had rushed off of the couch to tell them about me. He returned with three strange looking figures. The female looked like vampira, but she had a friendly voice and thanked me for spending the evening with her son and niece. There was a tall fellow, whose skin had a green hue, who was holding Eddie and whom Eddie called "Pop". So the old man in the Count cape had to be Grandpa.
"Pleased to meet all of you," I extended my hand; they all shook it, the grandfather seemed to attempt to bite it, but Lily stopped him.
"What do you think of this character, Eddie?" Grandpa inquired in a whisper.
"Nice, but strange," the boy replied, then lowering his voice further, he added, "he thinks Marylin's pretty."
Grandpa nodded, "Still," he told his grandson, "it would be nice to have some fresh blood in the family."
"Eddie!" Herman shouted, noticing the television screen. He went over to the machine and shut it off. "I told you about those movies, son," then his voice grew sensitive, as though his feelings had been hurt, "they make us look like not-nice-people."
I thought all of these were a bit peculiar, but it had been Halloween, so this was that time of year.
"Well," I began, "thanks for everything, but I should go." I turned around toward Marylin, "I'm attending First Baptist Church of Dublin, you're welcomed to come anytime," then I looked at the others, "everyone's invited, of course."
"Oh," Lily said, "I'm afraid Grandpa and I couldn't go."
"That's right," the old man added, "anytime our side of the family sees a cross we fall to pieces."
"Dust particles, actually," Herman laughed.
I smiled nervously.
Herman and Grandpa-I was never given his actual name-argued over how I could best get back to Roberts Road, but between the two of them I figured I could find the way.
"Well," Herman waved, "feel free to pay another visit to 1313 Mockingbird Lane."
I waved absent-mindedly and got back in my car and the radio came to life as the engine turned over. "Well, folks," the DJ was saying, "we're fifteen minutes into November first, but on this station it's still Halloween, here's the "Theme from the Munsters".
As I listened to the tune and recollected the evening I wondered what just happened. And how had it happened?