by Mark Parker
Jed rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, man. Halloween only comes once a year!”
Todd didn’t know what this had to do with anything, but he knew it carried with it the implication of risk. “Our dad said we weren’t supposed to wander off from the neighborhood,” Todd offered, in solidarity with his brother.
“Why, cause it’s dangerous here? Cause we’re poor?”
“No, I didn’t mean…” Todd stammered, “That’s not what I…”
“Your dad thinks he’s so great living in his fancy house, driving his fancy car. But he’s one of us.” Jed paused, looked them up and down. “You’re not, though.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer said.
“You’re yuppies. You live in a safe little world with mommy and daddy who give you whatever you want. You ain’t got no grit.”
“I have grit,” Spencer said, rather unconvincingly.
Jed looked at them a moment, chuckling, then spat on the sidewalk and started down the road. Spencer watched him go, and Todd saw the change in his brother’s expression at Jed’s challenge, noticed the way his eyes narrowed and twitched at the corners.
“He said it’s not far,” Spencer said without taking his eyes off Jed.
“But it’s almost dark, Spencer.”
“It’ll be fine. Just stick close to me, okay?” Spencer said. He had their mother’s eyes—same shape, same color, and thus, for Todd, offered the same instinctual comfort. He supposed this was part of the reason he trusted his brother implicitly. When he nodded, Spencer slapped him on the back—a rare “one of the guys” gesture—that made Todd grin. In that moment he would have followed his brother anywhere.
***
Todd hadn’t thought it was possible, but the area through which Jed now led them was even sketchier than their father’s old neighborhood. The roads were especially bad, the asphalt looking like it had been struck by a meteor shower, loaded with cracks and crevices and shoddily patched—or not patched—chuckholes. The houses were sparser along this stretch. Those that remained were clad in sun-faded siding and vine snarl, or wore the blackened scars of arson. Most, however, were gone; leveled or burned, their concrete stoops, leading nowhere, standing like grave markers in the overgrown lots.
Eyeing the charred bones of one of the houses, Spencer said, “Why would we want to go to this school if it’s burned down?”
“It didn’t burn down, just burned up,” Jed corrected.
Todd tugged Spencer’s sleeve. “What’s that mean?” he whispered.
“The building’s still standing but it’s just a shell now.”
Todd nodded. As usual, he had more questions, but knew he was running the risk of being the annoying little kid, so he kept quiet and fished in his bag of sugary loot for a piece of sour apple Atomic Taffy. When he found one, he popped it in his mouth and dropped the wrapper on the ground. He knew this was littering—he would never have dared do anything of the kind at White Lane Commons—but he didn’t want the wrappers cluttering up his bag. And besides, it seemed to be what everyone else did around here. There was trash everywhere. Plastic bags, snagged in shrubs, flapped like battle-shredded standards in the chilly late-October gusts. Soda cans rattled bone songs along the crumbling pavement. The shards of shattered, multi-colored glass bottles formed abstract mosaics in the street.
As he chewed, Todd regarded all of this as if it were the setting of one of those late night horror movies he and Spencer watched on the weekends after their parents had gone to bed—movies in which scary things happened, but at a distance, safely on the other side of the glowing screen. Like most kids his age, Halloween gave him that same spooky feeling, as if he were actually in one of those films, though still safe in his costume as he went about his gathering of free candy. On this one night of the year, everything seemed more ominously symbolic, loaded with supernatural innuendo; the huge moon shrouded behind a murky cataract of cloud, the high wind making the brittle autumn leaves cackle, the hint of pagan wood smoke on air already beginning to smell of snow. Every rattle and bang was of ghostly origin, every dark place a haunted place, every creak and groan was some unthinkable inescapable monster shambling toward you from out of the shadows.
Jed stopped at a corner, looked up the road they were on, then down the intersecting road, from which came shouting and thumping music. “It’s this way,” he said with a tick of the head in the direction of the noise.
Spencer hesitated, glanced back over his shoulder and then at Jed. “How much further?”
Jed either didn’t hear, or was pretending not to hear as he started off. Spencer gave Todd a pained smile before continuing on.
Eyes peered at them from the shadows of sagging porches, behind bucking screen doors, through the windows of parked cars. The Disadvantaged, Todd thought. For some reason when his mother had said this, he’d pictured beggars with no teeth waggling tin cans at passersby for spare change. But these were not hapless, clichéd vagabonds ingratiating themselves for a random dime. There were no cordial nods or little smiles like people gave one another at White Lane. These were hostile faces, threatening, territorial, and despite it being a public street, Todd felt very much a trespasser here. Even Jed seemed uncomfortable, walking quickly, head down and mumbling for the others to do the same.
Todd shrieked as something struck him in the arm. He looked down at the half eaten chicken leg at his feet, and then up at the boy who had thrown it. He was around Todd’s age, wearing a torn black-hooded sweatshirt and bleach-stained jeans, instead of a Halloween costume. One of his blown out shoes gaped at the toe like a slit throat. A little chorus of laughter from the porches and the cars then, accompanied by more bones, a volley of them as the voices grew loud again, taunting.
Spencer, Todd and Jed broke into a run, pelted by an array of random trash, which escalated to bottles shattering at their heels by the time they reached the end of the road and rounded the corner. They ran another five blocks until collectively winded, they stopped, heaving breaths. Jed was laughing.
Spencer, cheeks mottled red, said, “What’s so funny?”
“That was awesome! That’s one of the worst streets in the whole city.”
“And you took us down there?”
“I should have thrown one of the smoke bombs!” Jed mused. “Damn…”
“What the hell is your problem? You could have gotten us killed!”
“Come on man, I thought you had grit?”
Spencer clenched his teeth. “So where is this school?”
“This way—” Jed said, with a vague wave in no particular direction.
“You’ve been saying that for the past hour.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“It’s eleven thirty! We were supposed to be home an hour ago!”
“Then go home,” Jed said with a smirk. The smirk faded suddenly when he saw the group of kids, led by the boy in the black sweatshirt, coming toward them. They were shouting, and Todd saw something gleam silver in one of their hands.
“Run!” Jed shouted, taking off without waiting for Spencer or Todd. Behind them, Todd heard a war cry, and then Spencer was pulling him. “Go, go, go!”
Together, they sprinted down a side road that dead-ended at a shallow patch of scrub grass, and, beyond that, a black wall of trees. Todd lagged behind the older boys, slow in his baggy green Sergeant Surge pants, which turned out not to be so super-hero-ific in the face of real danger. His eyes widened as a rock whizzed by his head. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the boy in the black hooded sweatshirt not fifty paces back.
“Throw your candy!” Jed screamed.
Todd hugged his bag to his chest and shook his head.
Spencer turned and fired his bag at the kids, striking the leader in the gut, and buying him just enough time to scoop Todd up. From his view over his brother’s shoulder, Todd saw that most of the kids had given up the pursuit and were now fighting amongst themselves like hyenas on a carcass over the contents of Spen
cer’s trick-or-treat sack. Some of them kept following right up to the line where the pavement gave way to field and trees. But here, they unexpectedly stopped.
Todd regarded them curiously. Maybe they’re afraid of the dark? He knew that he certainly was, let alone the woods in the dark. But then another thought occurred to him, this one much more disturbing. What if they were afraid not of the dark itself, but something they knew to be in it?
Jed, squatting behind a massive deadfall which had been rotting in-situ for a generation, waved them over. For several minutes they huddled there in silence, listening.
“Alright. I think we’re okay,” Jed said after some time.
“Okay?” Spencer said. “Where are we?”
“The south woods.”
“Where’s that?”
“South of the city,” Jed snapped.
Spencer stood. “Take us home. Right now!”
Jed got up. “What a bunch of sissies. One night away from home and you’re crying for your mommies!”
“You know, I’m getting a little tired of your smart ass mouth,” Spencer said.
“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”
The two glared at one another, Todd looking from Spencer to Jed, Jed to Spencer, waiting to see who would be the first to strike. Or blink.
It was Spencer. He checked his watch, pressing a button which made the screen glow. Todd was envious of this watch because it was the same sort of device and the exact shade of green that Sergeant Surge used to summon the Interstellar Gang. Spencer glanced around at the woods, then looked at Todd and said: “This way.”
“This way?” Jed scoffed. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Home.”
“You don’t even know where you are!”
“Neither do you,” Spencer said flatly.
“So you’re just going to walk off into the woods?”
“Well we can’t go back that way,” Spencer said pointing toward the dead end.
Jed opened his mouth and closed it.
“So? What do you suggest?” Spencer asked.
“There’s a path here that is supposed to lead back to my block, though I don’t know that for sure.”
“Great. Is there anything you do know for sure?”
“Yeah, you can either follow me or go your own way and…” Jed paused to pull his mask down, “…get eaten by the wolves.”
Todd could see Jed grinning madly at them through the mouth hole in the gaping rubber werewolf jaws, his teeth slick and grey as old bone in the moonlight.
***
Of course there were no wolves. Still, it took several reassurances from Spencer before Todd felt confident that he wasn’t about to be devoured whole, costume and all. They followed Jed along the moonlit trail, their progress slow and tedious, until arriving at a place where the trail unexpectedly forked. Jed chose the left tine and the three boys walked silently for the better part of an hour, until Todd, exhausted and half paralyzed with terror, sunk down onto a large stone just off from the path. The further they’d gone, the more his behavior had reverted to that of a small child, refusing to let go of his brother’s hand, and whimpering at the slightest noise, of which there were plenty.
What were all those cracking and clambering sounds? Todd was beginning to wonder if those kids really were following them after all, corralling them deep in the woods where no one would hear their screams. And what of the perpetual movement in the dark, always glimpsed out of the corner of his eye? During one such glance, he was sure he’d seen a pair of faces peering back at him, their eyes bright, their countenances slick like oiled ebony, before receding back into the darkness. Now he sat hugging his bag of candy to his chest, his Sergeant Surge outfit in tatters, the mask lost long ago (a tree branch had snagged the cheap rubber band, ripping it off his head). He no longer had that singular Halloween feeling. There was nothing hauntingly enigmatic or mystically furtive about the gravestone-grey clouds against the black, starless sky—or the cold wind murmuring like breaths through the lips of the dead.
This is what happens to little boys, he thought, who don’t listen and wander off on their own. They find themselves outside of safety, far beyond protection.
Spencer sat down beside him on the rock. “You’re right, we should take a little break.”
“What the hell are you two doing? I thought you wanted to get out of here?” Jed said.
Todd picked up on the tinge of worry in his cousin’s tone, which made him feel even more frightened.
“I have a very important job for you, Toddy,” Spencer said, removing his wrist watch. He put it in Todd’s hand. Todd looked up at him with confused wonder. “I need you to be the time keeper while I help Jed get us out of here. I can’t do both, and I think it’s really slowing us down.”
“Fine. I’m leaving! You two have fun on your faggot rock,” Jed said as he tromped off through the brush.
Todd looked down at the watch resting in his palm. It was his brother’s most prized possession; the one thing he was allowed to see but never touch. He knew that Spencer was just trying to cheer him up by letting him hold on to it…to get him back on his feet and moving again. And it worked. Being entrusted with the stewardship of the watch, in addition to the prospect of helping them get out of the woods by keeping time—even if only in some ceremonial way—changed his mood in an instant. He looped the watchband around his wrist and slipped the notch finder three holes past Spencer’s usual spot.
“Press the lower left button to make it light up,” Spencer said.
Todd did this, and for a second his trepidation evaporated. But then he saw what time it was. Dread tunneled through his chest like a long black root, as he gawped at the digital numbers. Could it really be 2:56 a.m.? He couldn’t recall ever having been awake at that time before in his life. It was a place unfamiliar as a foreign country.
“If we get separated, just press that button, and I’ll come find you, okay?” Spencer said, his face half illumined in the absinthe green glow.
Not for the last time that night, Todd marveled at his brother’s composure. There wasn’t a trace of fear in his expression. In fact, he was smiling.
Suddenly, Jed was shouting for them to “Come quick!”
The two brothers got up together and made their way down the rambling path. Jed stood at the top of a rise in a breech in the trees.
Home, Todd thought. Home is just ahead…
But as they came up alongside Jed, it wasn’t their cousin’s poorly lit street they saw, but a massive ruined building leering back at them like a blackened skull through the tangle of trees. Jed, Todd noticed, was gazing at the school with an expression of palpable wonder, like an archaeologist discovering a place long fabled to exist.
Grinning wickedly, he gripped each of his cousins by a shoulder. “You guys ready to have some real fun?”
“What are you talking about?” Spencer said gravely.
“Now we can see if there really are any skeletons!”
“Skeletons?” Todd whispered.
“The ones of the kids who burned up in the fire.”
“I want to go home…” Todd moaned, soon beginning to cry. He’d held out as long as he could. Being lost was one thing, but lost with the potential of skeletons was too much.
“We are going home, okay?” Spencer reassured him. “There are no skeletons, just like there aren’t any werewolves.” Spencer glared at Jed, who was sniggering against a tree.
“Give me those fireworks…”
“No.”
“Come on, give me them!”
“Why?”
“I’m going to shoot them off from the roof, so that people will see that we’re here!”
“You’re actually going to go in there?” Jed said.
“No…!” Todd shrieked.
“Give me the god damned fireworks!”
Jed flinched, regarded Spencer with a raised eyebrow, then reached in his coat and came out with three arrow-shaped rocket
s.
Spencer grabbed them and immediately started off in the direction of the school.
Todd was right behind him, hands reaching, and then clenching, at the back of his brother’s windbreaker.
“I’m coming with you!” the boy said.
“No, Toddy. You have to stay here with Jed.”
“I don’t want to!”
“You remember what dad said? Abandoned places can be very dangerous.”
“Then why are you going?”
“Because, I’m the oldest. And, because if anything happens to you, my ass is grass.”
This expression had always made Todd laugh. ‘Your ass is grass…and I’m the mower,’ their father said on occasion, when he was really angry. It never failed to make them laugh. Even their father would crack up, the threat of punishment momentarily averted. But Todd didn’t find it humorous now. “I don’t care,” he whined. “Please let me come too!”
Spencer crouched before his little brother and lifted Todd’s left arm, the one on which he wore the watch. “Flash me a signal in fifteen minutes, so I know where you are. This is very important Todd. Do you understand? You are my compass now. Without you, I won’t know how to get back.”
“Alright,” Todd said reluctantly, swiping at his tears with one of his tattered plastic sleeves.
“Good,” Spencer said, pressing his lips into a tight smile. Then he turned and hurried off through the snag of trees.
Todd watched his progress until he disappeared into the school’s shadow, cast by the back-lit blazing moon. It seemed to swallow Spencer, this shadow, a void deep and tenebrous as a plague pit.
***
Todd would remember that night for two reasons. It was the last time he trick-or-treated on Halloween. And it was the last time he ever saw his brother.
He’d checked Spencer’s watch diligently, counting down the tense minutes one by one. When 3:15 a.m. arrived, Todd flashed the green light. He did this over the next several minutes. But as 3:25 approached, without a single red rocket blast, Todd’s anxiety reached a crescendo.
“We have to go look for him.”
“I’m not going in there,” Jed said, picking his nose and wiping his finger on a nearby tree.