Dad

'Dad, quit. I'm too old to go trick or treating. Those days of costuming your kids for glory are over.' Sean chided his father

"You kids had just as much fun as I did," said Martin, the father of three, as he relived the days their childhood in his mind.

When I was little I have admit that it was cool to have a dad that came up with the most bizarre costumes, but we need to move beyond that now."

What was your favorite?'

"You ask me this every year. It was the Thomas the Train costume. It was pretty cool of you to make all of the kids in the neighborhood different train costumes so we could all trek through the neighborhood linked to each other. That earned you the dad of the year award."

"Twenty kids choo-chooing down the block together was incredible! Got that on film. Every train had their own lantern. Good times!"

"Are we done reminiscing?'

"My favorite was the cuckoo clock. I put antlers on your head and golden acorns hanging on your belly. I made your face the face of the clock and the catcher was it actually kept time. That took me awhile to accomplish. Remember I put the hands of the clock and the movement on the glasses. Ha, ha you hated those glasses but it worked. The bird that popped out of your forehead when you squeezed the plunger. Contest judges were impressed with that little trick. Good times."

"It's amazing that you were ever able to hold down a job in the month of October with all of the time you spent making our costumes."

"Show your elders some respect, please."

"I did love it when Melody was so mortified because you made her costume an out house. Complete with toilet paper and magazines."

"She still hasn't forgiven me for that one! At least, your brother was always in the spirit of the season."

Yeah dad he is into it way too much, Going all out for the creepy and spooky stuff.

"Oh cut Michael some slack. He is just a fan of the sinister costumes."

'He hangs out at the cemetery. That's a little much for my taste. "

"That is just his job after school. You know he works for the funeral home now."

"Dad, last week he told me about wanting to learn how to embalm people. We had a whole conversation about how they do that. More facts than I needed. He's twelve and just supposed to be sweeping and cleaning the place."

"It's just a job! He's not too big to go trick or treating with me this year. What do you say I think we can fit one more year under you're belt. You could hang with Michael and I."
'

"Dad, I'm twenty. I'll buy my own candy. I gotta go. I do love you and I promise that when I have kids, you will be the first person we visit when we need a costume! "

"Deal. Be safe."

Just after five, Martin's third child, Michael, entered the house. Dressed in black from head to toe, his skeletal thin and pasty sullen face added to the Goth appearance. Not yet old enough to get a real tattoo, the boy had penned his own version of a casket on his forearm. The details on the casket were artistic and morbidly real, with a demonic face staring down into the casket. Flames were consuming the casket in a fiery inferno as the demon smiled a sinister smile. Earbuds tied loosely to his phone hung from Michael's ears, with loud Metalica sounds bursting forth. Martin turned in his chair to acknowledge his son's arrival. Michael gave one casual nod in his father's direction. His father motioned for the boy to remove his earbuds with boy complying as he rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Love the tat! Are you practicing for your Halloween costume? The details are awesome."

"Yeah, costume."

"So, what are we going to do for a costume?"

"Grave digger."

"Don't know how they dress? You'll have to fill me in, is it a specific costume?'

"Got clothes from work."

"What about a mask? I can fix you up with something very radical and evil looking," Martin said with a gleam of hope in his eye.

"Sure, Dad," Michael said in his monotone and noncommittal tone.



That was all of the encouragement Martin needed. He researched satanic faces and costumes. Finally choosing one, he worked on it morning and night until Halloween. He was proud of his work but Michael had long since forgotten the conversation.

Michael exited his bedroom wearing the muddy overalls and boots of an actual grave digger. Both of his arms were covered in graphically penned tattoos of the dead, making it look like he had on a long sleeved shirt. At closer inspection, the artwork would cause a person with sensibilities to shiver. Martin was immune as he loved the spookiness of Halloween.

"Wait til you see it. You're going to love it!"

"See what?'

"Your mask."

"Dad, I don't need..."

"Oh yes you do! It will complete the look." Martin said, cutting off his son's objections.

"But,"

"Nope, you gave me the okay. I'll go get it. Mom has your candy bag and I'll get the camera too. Have to immortalize the holiday."

Michael's eye roll could be felt for blocks away by every teenager conversing with a member of a different generation. Martin left the room to retrieve his prize, ignoring the pouty antics of his son. He returned with the mask beaming from ear to ear.

"I have to say this is the best work I've ever done," he said as he peeled back the tissue paper he had placed on it for protection from dust.

The mask was the shade of ebony with paint illuminating it in a haze of green. The eyes were amber lighted screens that twitched with electronic pulses. The nostrils were decorated with images of corpses that matched the burning souls on Michael's arms. The lips were flamed in red.

"Whoa, that is cool!" Michael screamed with more animation to his than he had shown in the last ten years of his life.

"I knew you'd like it!"

"What's this?" Michael said as he pointed to the place on the mask that looked like a hole had been carved out.

Martin smiled an enormous smile of pride. He squeezed a bulb from behind the mask and it happened just like he had planned. A slithering rubber snake rolled out from behind the doors of the mask. The tongue flicked in a deathly and venomous arc. Spiders mechanical and lighted danced across face of the mask. It was a sinister mask of the souls that lay rotting in the graves Michael dug.

'Dad, I love it! You are awesome."

"Anything, for my kids on Halloween. Now, let's get your picture out by the tree. I put extra batteries in the candy bag. Where are you heading to trick-or-treat?"

"Uh, Funeral Home and then the cemetery," Michael said returning to his casual and uninterested tone of voice.

"Alrighty then, bring home lots of candy!"


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