Porch Light The plastic mask purchased that afternoon was wet from perspiration and, actually, kind of smothered me as I tripped and groped my way in the dark along the shoulder of the narrow street. There were no sidewalks, so we walked through the high wet grass from house to house, the three of us with our little plastic masks sometimes going askew on our heads and blocking our vision. We each carried a small poke, Piggly-Wiggly grocery sacks, hoping to fill the sacks to the brim. I opened the chain-link gate to the next house, the porch-light was on as a signal that we were welcome to approach the door. The kind, elderly couple opened the door, the man feigning surprise and amazement at the masks. The little wife, Mrs. Sims, steps forward with a plastic jack o'lantern, "Oh, my, what gruesome little goblins. Who could they be?" Little Brother lifts his mask up, "It'th just me, Mrs. Thims. "So it is", she smiles. Middle Brother smacks him on the back of the head when the door shut, "You're so dumb, you're not supposed to tell 'em who ya are!". They scuffle for a moment outside the chain-link gate, "C'mon," I said, "Let's go to the Thomases' house next".. to which we break into a near trot, the Thomases were always generous with the Halloween candy. A loud, deep bark comes from inside when knock on the door, and we hear Mr. Thomas shoo-ing the big German Shepherd back, "Get back, Kaiser." "Trick-Or-Treat!" we say in unison. Kaiser sniffs my leg and then throws that big pink tongue out and literally smiles. "Hey, Kider!" Little Brother says and reaches out to pet the mammoth. Middle Brother kicks Little Brother on the leg, "You're so dumb!" "Here, Boys", Mr. Thomas lets us grab a handful of booty, not like some of the folks who would give you one or two pieces, no sir, Mr. Thomas let each and every one of us grab what we could. "Thank you, Mr. Ththomas", Little Brother lisps. "Dang it," Middle Brother says, and takes off the hot, sweaty mask, "Why are we even wearing these if he's gonna tell everybody who we are?" "It's okay," I said. "No it's not! We're supposed to not let them know who we are, you know, like......like........" "Like what?" I ask. "Forget it" Middle Brother replies and puts the mask on top his head and takes in a big deep snort of air. On we go, into the night, house to house, "Trick-Or-Treat!!?" Mom is waiting in the pickup at the end of the street, ghosts and goblins running amok under the dim glow of porch lights and the few street lamps. We start to pass by her and go over to the next street, but she flashes her headlights at us as a signal it was time to go. "Dang it!" Middle Brother says. Little Brother breaks into a dead run towards the pickup, I'm looking worriedly down the lane back and forth, "Whew", no cars coming, Mom would've had a fit if he would've gotten hit while under my watch. We pile into the truck, Piggly-Wiggly bags filled to the brim, the little plastic masks, a devil, a mummy, and a frankenstein, pointed up towards the roof of the truck, examining our loot. Someone gave Little Brother an apple, "Ah-ah-ah!" Mom says and snatches it away from him. "Let me have that". He looks at her in bewilderment. "Can we go to Granny's house?" I ask. Mom started to say no, but changed her mind and twenty minutes later, we're piling out of the truck onto Granny's porch. Middle Brother knocks on the window pane of the door, the little lace curtain on the other side parts, and Papa opens the door. "Trick-Or-Treat!" He smiles, and steps aside, Granny comes up "Oooooh! Such scary things! Who could they be?" Little Brother pushes forward, "It'th me Granny!" Completely flustered, Middle Brother takes his mask off and goes to the couch. Mom allowed us to stay for about fifteen minutes and then tried to corral us towards the door with each of us begging, "Can we stay with Granny and Papa tonight"? "No", she flatly said. All that sugar and excitement would be too much for the Elders to handle. We drove the blacktop home, dodging trees that had been cut down across the road, and the occasional white-sheet clad prankster who would jump out of the bushes on the road-side as a ruse to scare the returning goblins. Dad was out with the neighbor men clearing the road with the axes and saws from the downed trees. He was worn-out when he came in, but still managed a grin as we flew towards him, "Daddy, look what we got!" We sat in the floor and piled up the candy in the middle of the living room floor, like pirates and their treasure, gleefully feasting on hard candy, popcorn balls, orange slices, elephant peanuts, candy-corn, caramel blocks, penny-candy, etc., etc. "Alright, that's enough. You're all gonna have belly-aches tomorrow if you keep it up.. go to bed, save some for tomorrow.. go on," Daddy said. We pile under the covers, the three of us, in one bed, still buzzing from the sugar, "That wath fun!" Little Brother says. Years later, I went along with Little Brother as he took his own children to a church that was having a Halloween for the kids. No more did they go house to house, and all the candy was 'known' to be 'safe'. The kids all wore elaborate costumes as if they were at an adult masquerade party. It was a nice affair but lacked the mystery of going house to house, or seeing the Old Couple come to the door, or having Kaiser welcome you as a friend. No crisp Autumn air against the perspiration. Middle Brother and his kids were there. He sat back and watched as his young ones played 'musical chairs', his daughter runs up, a tear in her eye, as she was 'out' of the game. He plops her up in his lap, and she forgets the insult. He strokes her hair, and all is alright with the Cinderella look-alike. The party over, I begin the drive home. I pass the old house where the Elderly couple once lived. The porch light is off. The chain-link gate long-gone as is Kaiser. Feeling melancholy, I drive on into the night with the ghosts of yesterday riding with me. I smile at the memories of the plastic five-and-dime masks, and the Piggly-Wiggly pokes.. of the long trek down the lane, running from house to house, and knocking on the doors, the excitement when the door opened, and the hint of danger which never really came.. of the plastic devil-mask and the hokiness of it all. It 'wath' fun. I turn onto my street, the porch light is on. |
"Porch Light" © Wauhilau as posted in
alt.discuss.clubs.public.talk.friends.owizzardo
on Fri, Oct 19, 2007, 8:40pm (EDT-3)
bead bar courtesy of Greasy Grass
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