Four mischievous boys find out there's more to Halloween than free sweets |
There are a few days every year That, on the face of it, appear To me to be invented for The benefit of children. Or Why else would we have Christmas Day And all those brand new toys for play? Or Easter Sunday when, in case You weren’t able to fill your face With chocolate bars enough throughout The year before, there’s little doubt You’ll gobble down a baker’s dozen’s Worth of Easter eggs (who doesn’t?). But if you ask me I believe From New Year’s Day to New Year’s Eve And all the days and dates between There’s no day quite like Halloween. On that day, when the sun goes down And darkness falls, in every town The strangest sorts of sight emerge And sinisterly swell and surge In dedicated droves through your Own neighbourhood to your front door. But they’re not there to steal your soul: They want the sweets inside that bowl Inside your door - and it could be The Wolfman waiting there; maybe The Grim Reaper who rang your bell; The devil from the depths of hell; Or Dracula; Or Frankenstein To send a shiver up your spine. But fear not - they needn’t stay. Some sweets will send them on their way. It seems to me it’s almost funny Santa or the Easter Bunny Have to show up any other Day for there to be another Reason to be pleased as punch: You get your breakfast, then your lunch, Your dinner, then put on a sheet And strangers give you sweets to eat. Whoever, and I really mean this, Thought of it must be a genius. There’s no beating all that eating Sweets you get from trick-or-treating. Before you get the wong idea I wouldn’t simply volunteer Halloween as being so a- -mazing just ’cause kids can go-a -grazing, taking sweets from strangers Not imagining the dangers That can lie in store should you Bite into more than you can chew. The part of it that makes me feel This day alone has such appeal Is not a lot of people know That to this very day although This day’s become synonymous With candy every one of us Should stay indoors and say a prayer For evil’s on the loose out there. Or were you really that naïve To nonchalantly misconceive And misinterpret Halloween As harmless fun? If so you’ve been Plain lucky so far, honestly, I kid you not - take it from me - That in the very dead of night On any Halloween you might End up a victim of the foul Accursed creatures on the prowl. On this night, and this night alone, From worlds uncharted, lands unknown, A thousand spirits flood the land In ways you wouldn’t understand To terrorise and terrify You, mesmerise and scarify. The dead become undead and rise From out their graves to demonise And ghosts and goblins, ghouls galore Are gallivanting by the score. It’s only fair that I prepare you For a story that will scare you And, on that note, here’s a sober Warning for you. Last October Four friends, all fifteen years old, Put on their coats and braced the cold And met where they’d arranged to meet That afternoon to trick or treat. But neither Paul nor Jonathon Had any sort of costume on. The same for Gary and for Steven: None had made an effort. Even So, and never mind the fact They ought to know enough to act Their age (it’s really a routine For children younger than fifteen) There’s no way they weren’t going out With all of those free sweets about. So out they went, this fiendish four, For every household, door to door, And knocked on each or rang the bell, Behaving themselves very well Like decent youngsters, standing neatly In a line and smiling sweetly So whoever answered would Assume the four of them were good. But that would be the worst mistake That anyone could ever make. This wasn’t child’s play: if perchance a Miserly adult should answer And, quite rightly, plain refuse To be a victim of this ruse They’d soon find they had cause to worry And be oh so very sorry. Though nice boys they appeared to be This wasn’t the reality. All four were well-known trouble-makers, Uncontrollable lawbreakers, Certain to end up in jail (And much less certain to make bail). That being said, it didn’t pay To tell these kids to go away. Paul had packs of bottle rockets Stuffed inside his jacket pockets And a few more in his socks To fire through every letterbox Of every household he’d been told: ‘You shouldn’t be here - you’re too old!’ And Jonathon just as prepared To turn on anyone who dared Tell him the same - he had a crate Of eggs well past their sell-by-date, Each one as rotten as this boy Who threw them with unbridled joy At every house where anyone Said: ‘You don’t have a costume on.’ Steven, even by this standard, Since his infancy was branded Dastardly, and on his person Carried something so much worse than Fireworks and rotten eggs For by his side, next to his legs, He had a giant super soaker Water pistol. You may joke a- -Bout it. Then again you oughta Know - it wasn’t filled with water. And that’s not forgetting Gary Who could barely even carry All the horrors in his bag From hazardous to harmless gag: Five toilet rolls; a tube of glue; Assorted crepy crawlies too; A pellet gun, a tin of paint, And precious little self-restraint. Four anarchic juveniles With earnest eyes and angels’ smiles And bad intentions driving them To inconceivable mayhem. And neither did it matter what They weren’t given, or what they got. Without an ounce or hint of shame They treated everyone the same. Just rotten devils on the make All leaving chaos in their wake. And even younger children dressed Up properly were promptly pressed And patted down and firmly frisked For all their sweets. None of them risked A puffy eye or bloody nose Or worse besides. And so it goes That anyone they saw departed Empty-handed, heavy-hearted, For their homes without one sweet Or any sort of treat to eat. Before you start to shed a tear I daresay you’ll be pleased to hear This was the final Halloween This evil gang were to be seen, And why they were not seen again Nobody knew or could explain. But I can - and I’ll tell you how This happy mishap happened. Now While on their travels though they found Their way to every house around There still was one place on the block No boy or girl would ever knock. And not because to get there you Would have to walk a mile or two Along a creepy path beset By trees that make you quite forget Yourself for fear of what you’ll find And long for what you left behind. They’d heard the stories: Steve and Paul And Jonathon and Gary all Knew kids too numerous to name Had disappeared, and what became Of them remained a mystery. They up and vanished - history. The only real connecton being Each time someone somehow seeing All these children somewhere near This house before they disappeared. (The town police gave this a thought: Two officers went to report Any unusual occurrence And give people reassurance, Proving a disaster when They both were never seen again). Young Steven was the instigator By exclaiming loudly: ‘Wait a Minute - we should really see, That is if any of you three Are brave enough, what really lurks In that old mansion. If it works Out we might end up getting more Sweets than we ever bargained for, And if it doesn’t we can still Throw everything we’ve got until There’s nothing left to throw and we’re All satisfied our work’s done here.’ But this bravado wasn’t shared By all - the other three were scared To death but weren’t about to show it Or let one another know it: ‘Great idea,’ ‘Wicked plan,’ ‘Nice one Stevie, you’re the man.’ And off they set, making no mention Of, though paying close attention To, the eerie groans and creaking Like the trees themselves were speaking. Neither could they see each other As the fog and darkness smothered Any light and scant respite Provided by the pale moonlight. And as they grimly marched they felt A certainty that something dwelt There in the dark, anticipating, Salivating, watching, waiting. And as the house grew large and loomed Above them thunder clapped and boomed And lightning ripped across the sky In sheets, as if to notify Them these were not the sorts of places Four young boys should show their faces. This was not a good beginning, What with how the house was grinning At them: two windows for eyes That seemed to further emphasise The row below, like pointed teeth On each side of the door beneath. Two gargoyles, heavy-set and thick Like something from a horror flick, Made all four children stare and stop In fear. The creatures perched atop Above the door looked back And even on this near pitch-black October evening in each head The eyes were blazing crimson red. No longer were the boys so bold: Their inner fears had taken hold, But pride, they say, precedes a fall So, though the rest were silent, Paul Said loudly, in his toughest voice: ‘Well now we’re here we’ve got no choice But to go in there. What’s the worst That can happen…who’s going first?’ And what did they say? This unlawful Inconsiderate and awful Foursome? Not a single word Was spoken. Not a sound was heard. Until, in an almighty din That made them jump clean out their skin, The massive door swung open wide Revealing nothing more inside Than darkened hallway, empty space, But no-one standing any place. The boys’ eyes moved from left to right Erratically, as if they might Learn or discern some information Or some kind of explanation From each other. But they couldn’t Say a thing, but thought they shouldn’t Stick around here any longer As their hearts beat ever stronger, Thumping loudly in each chest, Each boy as frightened as the rest. But just as they were on the verge Of all succumbing to the urge To turn around and run a mile The very thought became futile. They couldn’t move and wouldn’t dare As these words pierced the cold night air: ‘Well what a wonderful surprise! Most kids round here don’t think it’s wise To take a detour round this way On this or any other day.’ And right in front of them they saw, Where nobody had stood before, A frail figure, stooped down low; Bedecked in black from head to toe; Around her feet a jet-black cat; And on her head a pointy hat; Beneath, her face had skin as green As any grass you’ve ever seen; Her chin all hairy, warts and all. Still, Gary had the wherewithal To try, despite the fact that he Was stricken with anxiety To lighten up the chilling mood By teasing her and being rude: ‘Well blimey, there’s no doubt about it That’s the most convincing outfit I’ve seen anywhere tonight - You really are an ugly sight. A proper witch, spot-on costume, Except that you forgot the broom.’ The witch responded with a vile And positively evil smile Revealing rows of broken yellow Teeth inside. ‘My dear young fellow What you see is no disguise And no witch I know ever flies In thunderstorms - it’s suicide To be flying about outside. So now we’ve got that settled then my Pretties you can tell me why The four of you have come to see A little old lady like me.’ Paul took it on himself to break The silence: ‘We came here to take All of your sweets and make a pickup. It’s a good old fashioned stick-up. Get ‘em now, and if you know What’s good for you you won’t be slow.’ She cackled heartily, a chilling Laugh: ‘You boys could make a killing. What a fine coincidence For you to have the impudence To pay a visit. How exquisite! Why, this isn’t Christmas is it?’ ‘This is Halloween you hag. You see the sweets inside this bag? We ring your bell, you give us stuff, And we don’t think we’ve had enough. So go ahead and give us nothing If you fancy that we’re bluffing.’ She smiled another evil smile: ‘Well I must say it’s been a while Since I can last remember meeting Children up here trick-or-treating. What a pity! On my shelves (And you must keep this to yourselves) Are many a sugar-coated thing To make your taste buds dance and sing. There’s candy of all colours, lolly- -pops, gobstoppers by the trolley, Everything from sherbert dips To bubblegum to walnut whips. ‘Oh how it’s pained me all these years That local children have these fears Of coming here. Their parents say: “You’re not going up there. No way!” When all I want to do is share These sweets with all the kids out there. So tell me, each of you in turn, What’s the one thing for which you yearn?’ Up first was Gary: ‘I want all The liquorice you’ve got.’ Then Paul: ‘The thing I want’s a nice and icky Toffee apple, warm and sticky.’ Jonathon was next: ‘I crave a Jellybean of every flavour.’ Lastly Steven spoke: ‘As long As chocolate’s there you can’t go wrong.’ She nodded after each request, Then said: ‘Perhaps it isn’t best I give you any candy what With all that you’ve already got. ‘No, what I think I’ll do instead Is see that all the kids are fed Who had the sheer misfortune to Be bullied by the four of you. Let’s give them liquorice, and lots Of jellybeans and tasty chocs, And toffee apples - it’s no fun That you have lots and they have none. And so I think a certain spell I know will do the job quite well.’ And promptly she began to speak In hushed tones shrouded in mystique And babbling black incantations Seldom heard in generations. And in a whizz and pop the four Boys standing there stood there no more. Instead four bags, filled to the brim With liquorice right to the rim, And toffee apples, jelly beans, And chocolate, bursting at the seams. The boys were gone - and who would miss A gang as horrible as this? And with a wheeze the witch bent down Picked up the bags and went to town And mingled with the other folks In pointy hats and witches cloaks And fancy dress, and gave a treat To every boy and girl she’d meet Until all the contents were gone; No Gary; Paul; no Jonathon; No Steven left; no trace; no tracks. Just more delicious treat and snacks To eat along with all the others By a bunch of candy lovers. All of whom, I regret to say, Reported feeling the next day As poorly, sick, unwell and green As they had ever felt or been. And why did they not feel so great? It must have been something they ate. |