“Jack Junior answer the damn door,” my Mom bellowed from inside.
I popped my busted bike chain into place, stomped up the crumbling cement slab steps, & puffed under my breath as I passed through the threadbare house, “It’s JJ.”
“Enough out of you. Get the door. I’m not expecting anybody,” she huffed.
The misshapen metal hinges screamed.
Glowing under the front porch’s spotlight was a kid my age, but a girl. She was dressed like a witch with a pointy black hat. She had cornsilk blonde hair, whisps of golden fairy floss in little beaded braids.
The Witch’s voice was so sweet it made my teeth tingle with the sensation of grocery store icing.
“Trick or Treat,” she said, and smiled.
“Halloween’s not for a few more weeks,” I replied. My Dad taught me it’s easy to make friends when you have gum, so I pulled a body-temp pack of Juicy Fruit from my pocket, the 3 remaining sticks sticking to the silver paper, & held them out.
Still smiling, The Witch took the gum, dropped it in her sack, and walked off, her hair floating behind her in the phosphorescent dusk.
The front room glowed with enlivened moonlight breaking through crooked blinds, flickering with a cackling laugh track.
I went to my room to work on my costume for the upcoming Halloween parade.
I was going as a ghost; I had a white hoodie from my baseball team two years ago: it wasn’t really white anymore, & it didn’t really fit anymore, either. I pinned a faded fuzzed sheet around the hood and into a cowl-cape short enough so it would snap behind me on my bike when I rode & not jam the chain. It felt like a costume I could relate to: stuck in a house with no voice, invisible to a world that controlled my existence. So, I made up my mind that I wanted to be a ghost who could fly through the parade & up to the north side for the good candy!
A second knock on the front door startled me & I pricked my finger on the pins, a bead of blood blooming. Well-trained, I was at the front door before Mom even yelled.
Another trick or treater, so little I was surprised there was no one with them, stood on the stoop dressed as Spider Man, their head & hair fully covered by the mask, identity concealed.
Spider Man’s voice was tart like a curd with no cream, the squeaky clench of your jaw.
“Trick or Treat.”
“Is there an early trick or treating trend I should know about?” I asked as I rummaged in my abandoned-by-the-front-door book bag and put a package of pretzels leftover from lunch into Spider Man’s plastic pumpkin pail.
Spider Man didn’t respond, just toddled down the steps holding the railing tightly.
I shut the rusty door with the extra push so it would lock loudly.
“Who was that now?” hollered Mom, muting a commercial.
And then –
There was another knock at the door.
Mom heaved herself up, the couch springs creaking in relief as she stood heavily, the narrow house leaning into her mass as she hurled toward the door.
“Who is coming here Jack Junior?” she bulldozed past me with attitude, the force of her yanking the source of the door’s unfortunate unhingings.
It was a giggling high school kid in a stuffed, bright yellow banana costume, silly sauced & delighted off the costume experience of transforming into a friendly fruit for a night of innocent identity swapping & candy mayhem.
“What the hell do you want?”
The Banana did an exaggerated thrust, laughing on the edge of the stoop. His voice was balanced and blended, shaken sugar and citrus, an oceanside, fresh-squeezed crush, the perfect blend of gritty sugar & smooth ice.
“Trick or treat. Halloween came early.”
Mom slammed the door with force & thudded to the back room.
I ran back to my room, pulled on my ghost costume, crept out the back door, & hopped on my bike, riding as fast as I could to the front skidding up alongside The Banana, Witch, & Spider Man at the end of my crooked, cracked walkway. I handed the Banana a full-size candy bar that he immediately opened, peeling the cello like banana skin.
I peddled away, the sheet of my past flickering fast as I sped down the only street I’d even know, then the weight of my life flew away into a neverland of mind and time, the spooky dam of Halloween leaking into lives, thinning the veil earlier every year.
Halloween came early, so I got in the spirit: forever the fun of the changing season & identity, the tastes & smells of the season’s story from door to door, evermore.
