The Candy Tax / The Missing Baby Sister

         Picture if you will three siblings elbowing each other in their haste to scoot out the front door. The make-up has been spackled on upturned faces and everyone has agreed not to rub it as it will surely smear. Three Halloween costumes have been tugged on over warm snow suits and the children resemble smaller versions of a cross-dressing Michelin man, bulky. Three heads nod as they hear the usual warning.

         "Remember, stick together. Oh, and don't run and look both ways before you cross the street."

         With tight grips on their fluttering pillow cases they wave and waddle to join the throng of festive trick-or-treaters prowling the neighbourhood.

         This candy gathering marked the first solo foray for my children. Despite my better judgement and plain old Mom worry I'd heard their cries of "please, we're old enough, nothing will happen". I'd swallowed my fear and let them go. They had a point. What could go wrong? They had each other's backs. Once their sacks were too heavy to lug anymore they'd return home, content and in one piece.

         My wait for the return did not pass with me pacing the floor and wringing my hands. Answering the knocks on the door and shelling out treats kept me busy. I had plenty of creative costumes to admire and smiling 'creatures' to greet.

         Before I knew it the heavy door crashed open and familiar voices shouted, as if I hadn't noticed, "We're back!"

         The two eldest made a bee-line for the kitchen floor and wasted no time dumping the contents of their bulging pillow cases. First things first, they needed to peruse and assess their new-found riches. I swung around searching for the third member of the crew. I stepped to the door and pulled it open thinking she had lagged a bit behind her brother and sister.

         I crossed to the sisterless duo and asked my question.

          "What are you doing?"

         I'll admit I was not specific and preoccupied they replied, "We're sorting our candy and making a pile for Dad. He likes the red licorice and caramels."

         "Yes, I know that. It's The Candy Tax. If you share with him he promises to leave the rest of your candy alone. Where's your sister? Isn't she with you?"

         Two sets of shoulders shrugged. Carrie and Christopher shook their heads, Nope."

         "What do you mean nope? Where is she?"

         "She didn't stay with us. She was too slow. We dunno where she is."

         In a panic and imaging the worst I summoned my husband screaming, "Danielle's missing!"

         With an over the shoulder glare at the unconcerned escorts surrounded by mounds of candy, hubby hurried out to the car and disappeared. Long moments ticked by in excruciating slow motion. Was Danielle lost and alone, crying? Had she been kidnapped? Could her father find her in the dark?

         Relief flooded through me when a grinning Danielle, make-up smeared and eyes glistening, pushed her way into the house struggling to hold up an overflowing pillow case. How could she appear to be none the worst for her ordeal? I flashed unspoken questions at my husband and he shook his head. Danielle accepted my fierce hug as she kicked off her boots.

         "Daddy said I had to come home. It's okay, I gots lots of candy. He says he still likes licorice and 'carmels'."

          Leaving our youngest to join her siblings I took my partner aside and asked my burning questions.

         "Danielle wasn't upset? Where did you find her? How did you know where to look?"

         "I didn't have a plan. I just started driving down the streets until I spotted her. As far as I can tell Danielle joined up with other trick-or-treaters and followed them. She wasn't worried and seems happy. I don't think she missed Carrie and Chris at all."

         He shrugged and accepted the annual offering of The Candy Tax. Everyone was home safe and sound. There was candy to enjoy.

         Yes, Danielle had been temporarily misplaced. Yes, I stewed and survived an unexpected fright. I suppose this had to be the most harrowing, hair-raising Halloween in my life, just one more motherhood stress test. The three kids never seemed to be traumatized? ( 702 words )