Date: Thu, 10 Oct 1996 12:50:03 MDT From: Robyn Meta Herrington Subject: SUB:CONTEST: The Halloween Spirit . . .and yet *another!* Critiques to ROBYN at rmherrin@acs.ucalgary.ca I will pass them along to the appropriate author. R ========================================================== THE HALLOWEEN SPIRIT It happened more than forty years ago on Halloween night, but I remember it as if it was yesterday. I was eleven and my brother, Tommy, was seven. That year, for the first time, my mother was allowing me to go trick- to-treating without her tagging along. I couldn't wait, but candy collecting was the last thing on my mind. There was a legend in Shady Hills that the Halloween Spirit came out every October 31st. Stories were told about what the Spirit looked like, but the grown-ups said it was a fairy tale. I didn't believe them and vowed to find the Halloween Spirit and finally put the legend to rest. I had a list of all the places I would look and couldn't wait to get started. Then Ma made her little announcement. "Tommy's going with you," she said that night at dinner. "Awww, Ma, I don't want to take Tommy with me," I whined. "You promised I could go by myself." "I said you could go without me. And since you're old enough to do that, you're old enough to watch your brother." I knew better than to argue, so with Tommy dressed in a skeleton costume and me as a hobo, we rushed out of the house followed by a stern warning from Ma. "Don't leave the neighborhood. And stay away from the railroad tracks." She smiled, then waved. "Have fun and get lots of treats." Candy was the last thing on my mind as I drug Tommy down the sidewalk. "I'm not going trick-or-treating," I said to him when we were out of sight from Ma. "I'm going to look for the Spirit." "No you're not. I'm not looking for some dumb Spirit," Tommy said. "I want to go trick-or-treating. Jimmy's Mom is giving out red and black licorice sticks." It was no surprise that Tommy was going to be trouble, so I was ready with a good bribe. "I'll give you half my marble collection if you go with me," I said. Tommy shook his head. "Nope. I have my own." He looked at me and flashed a toothless grin. "I want the shooter you used to win all of Billy Ray's marbles." "Not my lucky shooter!" "Then I'm going trick-or-treating and you have to take me. If you don't, I'll tell Ma." Ma only gave me two hours, so I didn't have time to argue. "Okay, you win. I'll give you the shooter," I said, grabbing Tommy's hand. "Let's go. We're going to Mr. Tucker's pumpkin patch." Tommy stopped dead in his tracks. "Are you crazy? Mr. Tucker is all the time out looking for pumpkin thieves. If he sees us, he'll tell Ma and we'll be sure to get a spanking." "Then we'll have to be quiet so he doesn't catch us," I said, yanking him down the sidewalk. Mr. Tucker's pumpkin patch was a large field behind his house. It was dark and spooky and the perfect place for the Spirit to hide. We couldn't go two feet without stepping on a pumpkin, so we had to be careful where we walked. I ran out of the house so fast I forgot the flashlights, so our only light was from the moon. Tommy followed me, but before we were halfway through the field, he tripped over something and fell down. "Why don't you watch where you're going?" a deep, throaty voice said. "Who said that?" I asked as I pulled Tommy to his feet. "I did," the voice said. "Mr. Tucker? Is that you?" I asked, straining to see through the darkness. I couldn't see anything, but I knew it had to be him. Who else would be here this time of night? "I'm sorry, Mr. Tucker," I continued. "We were looking for the Halloween Spirit. We weren't going to steal any pumpkins. Honest!" "I'm not Mr. Tucker," the voice said. "And who's this Spirit you're talking about?" "All I know is it comes out every year on Halloween night. That's why I'm here. I'm trying to find it." "You mean you haven't found the Spirit yet? Tsk, tsk. What's taking you so long?" "I just started." "Really? Then I suggest you get moving," the voice said. "But next time watch where you're going." Just as I nudged Tommy to get moving, a gust of wind came out of nowhere, blowing dry leaves all around us. I heard twigs snap under the weight of someone walking beside me, but I couldn't see anyone. Then, into the moonlight, walked a big, black cat. "Whew!" I exclaimed, breathing a huge sigh of relief. "It's only Shadow." Shadow belonged to Mr. Tucker. "That's not Shadow!" Tommy cried. "Look at those weird eyes!" The cat's eyes glowed bright green and were as big as my lucky shooter. He glared at us, then suddenly, flashed a big, toothy grin. "I'm getting out of here!" Tommy cried, running full speed out of the pumpkin patch. I tried to catch him, but I tripped over a big pumpkin. "Wait for me!" I cried as I jumped to my feet. Tommy headed toward the railroad tracks and didn't stop running until he came to the trestle. The trestle was a wooden bridge that supported the tracks suspended over the creek. I was gasping for breath when I finally caught up with Tommy. "Get going," I said. "We have to get home before Ma finds out we were in Mr. Tucker's pumpkin patch." Tommy wouldn't move, so I shoved him. "What's the matter with you? This is no time to be chicken. Move." Tommy pointed to the creek bank. "Someone's down there cooking over a fire." "You're crazy. Why would anyone be cooking by the creek?" "How would I know?" he answered. "But someone is doing it." I looked to where Tommy was pointing and saw a large person hunched over a big pot, stirring something with a broom handle. The fire was giving off an orange glow, and I saw that the person was wearing a long, black coat and a big, pointed hat. "Who is that?" Tommy whispered. "I don't know," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "It's probably a hobo cooking his dinner." "That sure is a funny way to cook dinner." The hobo heard Tommy talking and turned to look at us. The fire lit up its face, and I swear the creature's snout hung clear down to its chin. Glaring at us, it smiled a toothless grin that, for some reason, reminded me of Tommy. "Let's get out of here," I said. I reached for Tommy's hand, but he was already running across the trestle. "Tommy! Wait for me!" I hollered. "No! I'm going home!" I had no idea Tommy could move so fast, and I had to run double-time to catch him. "We can't go home yet," I said, when I finally caught up to him. "We didn't get any candy. Ma will know we were up to something when we don't come home with treats." "I don't care," Tommy whined. "Besides, it's your fault we don't have any candy. You and your dumb Spirit!" Tommy ran ahead of me and didn't stop until he reached our front porch. "Look," he said, eyeing the two brown paper bags sitting on the top step. I grabbed one of the bags and looked inside. "Wow! It's full of candy and fruit," I said. "Where did they come from?" Tommy asked. "Maybe from the Spirit." "Will you forget about that dumb, old Spirit stuff." "Well? How do you think they got here?" "Maybe Ma put them here for us." Tommy sat down on the porch and looked through one of the bags. "Oh boy! Red licorice!" I sat down next to Tommy and grabbed one of his licorice sticks. "It sure is dark out here. I wish Ma would turn on the porch light." "Why do you need a light? Are you a 'fraidy cat?" "Don't call me names," I said to Tommy. "I didn't say nothin'," Tommy answered, his mouth full of candy. I punched Tommy in the shoulder. "Quit goofing around. There's no one else here." "Says who?" the voice said. Suddenly, the outside light came on and sitting on top of the porch railing was the same black cat we saw in the pumpkin patch. "Meow," it purred. Tommy and I stared blankly at each other, too scared to speak. The cat jumped off the railing and pranced up the sidewalk, its tail high in the air. It stopped for a minute, turned to look at us, and with a toss of its head, smiled that same big, old grin. Tommy's eyes were about to pop out of his head and mine weren't far behind. "I'm telling Ma!" Tommy cried, jumping to his feet. "No you're not," I said, pulling him down beside me. "If you tell her, she'll find out we didn't go trick-or-treating. You have to keep your mouth shut." "What will you give me?" he asked. Here we go again, I thought. "I'll give you half of my treats," I said, holding up the bag. "No fruit," he countered. I rolled my eyes. "Okay. No fruit." We sat on the porch until I divided up the candy. When we finally went inside, Ma looked at us kind of funny. Tommy's skeleton costume was dirty and torn at the knees and by then I really did look like a hobo. I was ready with a good excuse, but, for some reason, she didn't ask any questions. And Tommy kept his mouth shut, but I had to give him the rest of my candy *and* my lucky shooter. Now after all these years, the legend lives on. The kids in Shady Hills still look for the Halloween Spirit every October 31st. And every year they never find it. It's a shame they don't ask me. I could tell them where to look. ========================================================== -- -------+++++++-------+++++++ +++++++-------+++++++------- Robyn Herrington Operations Manager, Microforms Services University of Calgary, MacKimmie Library Ph: (403)220-6903 http://www.ucalgary.ca/~rmherrin rmherrin@acs.ucalgary.ca -------+++++++-------+++++++--------------+++++++-------+++++++-------