A Halloween Story

         John listened to his mother’s shuffling to the kitchen, and he held his breath as he listened to the clink of glasses against each other. He counted to ten as each passing second brought her closer. One. The faint tinkling of the ice in her cup. Two. Half mutters of a conversation she was having with herself. Three. The creak of the floor under her unsteady gait. Four.

         John's hands bunched under the covers, and he knew she was just outside. He jumped at the screech of the door opening. His mother stumbled through the room as he squeezed his eyes shut, swearing not to open them. The bed sagged just near the edge, and he still kept his eyes shut. He forced his face to relax as he felt her hand push the hair out of his eyes. John focused on the tickle of his hair brushing against his skin.

“My special little guy.”
         
         He cracked his eyes open and gave a halfhearted yawn. She wouldn’t suspect anything, not tonight. The stark contrast of moonlight and darkness made her seem younger, like an echo of herself. The deep lines that etched a permanent frown on her face were smoothed over. Her midnight eyes shined with a small spark of light. The corners of her mouth were played up by a small smile.

         Something's off, I know it. John searched his mother’s face, forgetting that he was playing the part of a freshly waken boy. He felt the small exhale come before the dull ping of teeth against glass. The smell of brandy washed over him, warmed by his mother’s breath. It wasn’t until his head began to ache that he realized he was grinding his teeth and unclenched his jaw. His head still thumped in time to his racing heartbeat, as he stared at the woman in front on him. That's not my mom. Her flabby skin sagged down like fruit that had rotted on the branch. Her dark eyes were lackluster except for the feverish glint from the alcohol. Her smile possessed the hollow smile of a fool. John finally figured it out. She looks like a jack o’ lantern.

“Hey Johnny boy”, her voice cracked. She leaned over and planted a wet kiss on his forehead. John grimaced at the moist sucking sound it made when she pulled away. He jerked away until he was against the wall. He could still feel the residue on his skin, but he resisted the urge to wipe it away.

“Ma, it’s late and I wanna get up early to watch some cartoons.” The past kiss felt like it was burning its way into his skin, almost like it was branding him.

“Aww, I’m sorry. I just wanted to check in on my baby. You don’t like that do you? Being my baby?”

         She peered at him over the rim of the glass, pinning him in place. John felt his breath hitch as images of his mother flashed across his mind. Like that time at the PTA meeting when she was laughing too loud with the other moms. Didn't even know they were laughing at her. He stared at his sheets until the pattern was engrained into his mind. Guilt made his face hot, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing up at her face.

“Ma, I-” he began.

“Shh, shhhh. It’s ok, I understand.” She waved off his explanation and reached over to tap his chin.

“Close your mouth John, or the flies will get in. You’re growing up now, and I get it. After a certain age, nobody wants to be their momma’s baby anymore.” She smiled and winked like they were co-conspirators. John exhaled a sigh of relief and peeked at her through his lashes.

“How about pancakes tomorrow huh? We’ll wake up early and make more mess than breakfast, and we’ll watch the cartoons and you can tell me about those Spider Hiders--”

“It's Spider Ryders mom, and I don’t watch them anymore.”

“Ok, ok we’ll watch whatever you want and we’ll eat the pancakes and it’ll be just like old times. Whaddaya say kiddo?” Her words slurred together now. Just leave. Please.

“Yeah, sure ma.” John closed his eyes and added what felt like a convincing smile. The silence thickened. He opened his eyes to see what he did wrong this time. His mom stared at him with tears pouring out, and he could swear he felt every indent the tears were leaving on his bed.

“Oh John. My baby, my baby, my poor sweet baby.”

         Her moan filled the room as the words poured out and dribbled together.  The words kept getting louder and running together faster as if each cycle was feeding off the last. John closed his eyes and waited. He crooned a song his mother used as a lullaby. Words are flying out like endless rain into a paper cup. They slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe. Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind. He opened his eyes to his mother’s sniffling.

“Well its late and we gotta get up early tomorrow.”

         The words were firm, but her face resembled hot wax that had cooled while dripping. John turned his back on her and didn’t move until he heard her door close, and the mattress moan as she laid down. Kicking the covers off, he kneeled in front of the window and pushed it up. When it was open, he stuck his head out and peeked around. The night was quiet, and the block seemed to be nestled deep in sleep. He glanced up to a moon covered by clouds. A cool, thick breeze sent fluttering chills against his face. He closed his eyes and inhaled. He turned and reached under his bed pulling out brown paper bag.

         He slipped out the window and closed it leaving a crack for later. He cut across the front lawn and ran down the block until he reached the corner. Its like another world. The block was all lights and laughter set to the sound of adults’ talking. A group of kids dressed up as superheroes, ran by him. John stared after them for a moment, studying them for a clue. I wonder if Shawn is somewhere in there, or maybe Mark or Robert. He searched for a hint, but no one whispered as he walked by or refused to look him in the eye. While the costumes varied, all the trick or treaters all hid behind a mask of anonymity. Everyone was a freak tonight.

“And what you are you dressed up as sweetie?” John peered at the closest door to him, there, a girl was clothed in a sheet and a red beret covered with white dots. She held out her bag to the woman cradling a bowl.

“I’m ‘possed to be a mushroom ‘cause my brother wanted to dress up as Mario." The woman laughed and dropped a couple pieces of candy into her bag. John hid behind a tree and thought of going back home. For a second all he wanted was the dry sheets against his skin, and the quiet snore his mom made lulling him to sleep. He took a couple deep breaths and studied the moon. It was half eclipsed and a dusty yellow, and John thought it resembled a grin. He melted into the fresh wave of kids approaching the house.

“And what are you suppose to be honey?” The old woman leaned in and peered at him displaying the wrinkles carved into her face. Never gets old. Every time John heard that question a fresh ripple danced across his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Her indigo eyes blazed from her wrinkles as she waited. John didn’t answer but smiled as he stuck out his bag. The woman’s smile wavered for a moment and somewhere in the house a phone rang. His feet hurt from all the walking, but he refused to go home until he got what he wanted.

“Don’t go nowhere, be right back dear.”

         John waited a second after she left his sight and got a few pieces of candy out of his pocket before sticking his hand deep into the bowl. He grinned a bit at the feel of the smooth plastic rubbing against his skin, and snatched his hand back before he was caught. When she returned he was staring at his shoes, feeling the water squish into his socks as he wiggled his toes. The lady held a phone to her ear in one hand and offering the bowl with the other. She smiled and tucked the phone into her chin to wish him a happy Halloween. Even though it had started to drizzle, John waited until he was around the corner to start running again. He cut across lawns and through backyards until he was at his window. He lifted it and savored the feeling of his warm sheets when he slipped in. He shucked off his clinging clothes and slid the window home before relaxing into the pillow. He grabbed a piece of chocolate from his pocket and another from his bag. He held both pieces up to the moon and memories rushed back as he studied them.
         
         “Mom! Mom come on, I’m ready.” John sat on the floor with the candy fanned out before him like a king on his throne. He would pick up one piece before abandoning it for another. The television was buzzing in the background encouraging his agitated excitement.

         “John, love, my special little guy. While I live to serve and serve to live, the most I can offer is my abject obedience at best. Gimme a minute and I’ll be out there.”

         Then John spotted it. The granddaddy of all Halloween spoils, a king-sized bar.

         “Mom, somebody was giving out king-sized candy tonight! Please, please, please just this one bar and I’ll wait ‘till you come out”

         “No, John wait until I check all of the candy.”

         “Come on mom please? Nothing’s wrong with this piece.”

         “Fine but just that one bar and nothing else.”

         John ripped the wrapper away from the bar, and licked the melted chocolate off before turning his attention to the bar.  John heard the small pop of his punctured cheek more than he felt it.  It wasn’t until blood seeped through his lips that he started to scream. This caused the embedded razor to slice deep into his tongue. John’s mom rushed out at the sound his yelling, when she saw all the blood she screamed too.

         His skin prickled as he let the thrill of what he had done sink in before popping the candy inside his mouth. He didn’t taste any of the finer points of the confection, and he couldn’t even begin to guess the name of brand. It all tasted like hot copper now, flowing over his tongue and filling his mouth. He could almost feel the sharp pain in his right cheek again from the bite of metal. John slowly squeezed the remaining candy. He didn't stop as the candy slowly molded itself into his hand, only when the shards of metal broke into his skin did he pause. He watched the blood ooze through his fingers and dripped onto his face. John closed his eyes and sank into the bed as he smiled. He felt the tissue in his mouth pop a bit and the skin crackle in on itself from the scar. It didn’t bother him now, after this night he wouldn’t be the only one . He would have lots of friends now. He opened his eyes as he smiled back at the moon through the raindrops. No, it wasn’t a smile anymore, the whole sky was laughing with him.


Word Count:1,971