Benny heard the words, "I want you, I need you, I love you," blaring from inside the house as he opened the front door. Older sister Bonnie had the hi-fi turned up to full volume, and he ran to turn it down.
"You turn that back up," Bonnie's voice shouted from upstairs. "I can't hear it up here."
"No. You know Mom doesn't want you listening to Elvis Presley, anyway. She thinks he's a weird-o."
"No he's not. He's cute and he's cool. All the girls in my class like him."
"He's a dope. Why don't you listen to nice guys, like Pat Boone instead?" She didn't answer and Benny snitched a Tootsie Roll from the candy dish. "What are you wearing tonight?"
"I'm going to be a gypsy. What are you going to be?"
"A pirate."
"Good. I'll put some lipstick on your face and head. It'll look just like blood."
King followed Benny up the stairs to his room. Along with the silk shirt, slick pants and sandals, Mom had laid the rubber knife on the bed. He quickly got out of his baseball uniform and dropped it in a pile. He didn't like the smell of his shorts, so he got a clean pair from his dresser drawer.
Five minutes later he was fully dressed except for the false mustache and the bandana on his head. The mustache kept falling off and he decided on crayon instead. He put on several coats, but it didn't even show up. Maybe he'd have to forget it, as much as he wanted one. Bonnie would have to help him with the bandana.
He knocked on her door. She answered and he could barely believe his eyes. "Mom's going to kill you if she sees you like that. You look like a prostitute."
"Do not. And how would you know, anyway?"
"Help me with my bandana, will ya?"
"Okay, but you have to let me put some blood on your face."
Benny sighed. "Okay."
After she finished, he took a look at himself in her mirror. He had to admit he looked like a real pirate. All he needed was an eye patch. "Thanks, sis. Do you think you could make a mustache for me, too?"
"Sure," she said. "Come here in the light." He did. "Now pretend you're sucking on a lemon."
Benny saw her pick up an eyebrown pencil. He felt it press and move under his nose and wanted to sneeze.
"Heh, heh, heh," Bonnie giggled. "Done."
"What did you do?" Benny asked angrily.
"See for yourself."
He looked into the mirror and understood while she was laughing. She had drawn on a flowing mustache, but one side curved up and he other curved down. "Why you..." he got out before he started to laugh, too. "Thanks, sis. See ya."
Tommy was waiting for him near the mailbox under the street light, with a grocery bag in one hand and a smaller one in the other. The moon was just a rind and wouldn't provide much light that night. Just the way the boys wanted it.
Decked out in chaps, a black hat and cowboy boots, Tommy did look quite a bit like Hopalong Cassidy.
"You look cool," Benny said.
"So do you," Tommy replied. "Your mustache looks kinda funny."
"Yeah. But I like it."
"Where ya been?" Tommy asked. "I've been waiting for you?"
"I got back late from finding King. It was really scary. He was at the mound. Coach and I had to drag him down from the hill, and everything smelled like that dead rat we found in the garage."
"Ooo.Then I'm glad I didn't go with you," Tommy said.
At the words, Benny wondered just how good a friend Tommy was. "Why do you have two bags?" he asked.
Tommy laughed evilly and opened the small one. "Smell. It's something for our barberque tomorrow night. Dad's gonna fix it on his new grill."
Benny did and quickly backed away. The smell was all too familiar. "Poop?"
"Fooled ya, didn't I?"
"Yes. Did you do that all yourself?"
"I've been saving it up for three days."
"Yuck. What are we going to do with it?"
Tommy moved closer. In a conspiratorial tone. he said, "We're gonna put the bag on Mr. Howard's steps and light it on fire. Then we'll ring the doorbell and hide. I can hardly wait to see his face when he tries to stamp it out."
Benny didn't like the idea. Mr. Howard had kept their baseball when they had hit it in his yard, but he wasn't really a bad guy. He sharpened Dad's lawnmower and fixed bikes. "That sounds kinda mean to me," he said.
"Of course it's mean. It supposed to be."
"Let's do it to someone else, instead."
"Why? You chicken?"
"No. I just think there's other people who deserve it more, that's all."
Tommy looked unhappy. "Aww, Then you decide. It's too good a trick not too use."
"How about the witch?"
"Mrs. Dracula? Cool idea. But you have to be the one who puts it on her doorstep."
Benny hesitated. Why me, he thought. "Okay. Did you bring matches?"
"How dumb do you think I am?" Tommy asked in a disgusted voice. "My Dad would kill me if he found out I have them. Let's get going, I hear some kids coming. We want to be the first so we get all the good stuff."
The first houses on Oak Street were quickly looted. After disappointing stops at the Walkers, where they got Tootsie Pops, and the Newlands' with their candy buttons, they came to the Fox house. Missus Fox' dropped 7-Up bars in their bag. They were so heavy they nearly went on through. "These are for my special customers," she said. Their luck held out at the next house. Mrs. Travis had Butterfinger bars. She insisted on taking their picture.
They posed with their hands around each other's necks and their tongues hanging out the side of their mouths. Mrs. Travis nearly died laughing.
So did the boys. Butterfinger bars were great for eating, and even better for trading. The first after-Halloween swap meet would be held the next day in Jimmy Wilson's garage and their Butterfingers would bring the most and best candy in return.
At the next house, Mr. Stanhope came storming out of his house and chased them away. That left the last house on the block, the Taylors.
As they approached it, Benny felt a chill. He didn't like the leafy bushes that lined the front of the house. They were getting away from the light from the street lamp, and now he could hear crickets chirping. The porch light was out, but bright light streamed out from the living room windows.
Benny grabbed Tommy's arm.
"Whatsamatter?" Tommy asked. "You aren't afraid, are you?"
"Nah," Benny lied.
They followed the leafy barrier to the gate and were about to open it when they heard a cry. They both shouted in terror as Frankenstein jumped out of the bushes at them. His green face grimaced, and the bolt holding his head on trembled as the monster growled.
Tommy dropped both bags, nearly producing more material for their surprise bag.
"Trick or treat," said a gruff voice.
Shuddering in fright, Benny held out his candy bag. Frankenstein reached in, took a look at the cherry Tootsie Pop, and threw it back in disgust. "What else you got?" the monster asked.
"Uh...Uh," Benny stammered. He caught sight of Tommy fleeing toward Oak Street. After picking up Tommy's bags, he took off on the fly after him. Frankenstein laughed evilly at the sight.
Running at full speed, they finally ducked behind a garage and stood trying to catch their breath. Given a moment to think, Benny realized that the monster was wearing green paint and one of those fake arrows with the ends broken off for the bolt. Finally able to speak, Benny said, "What are we so scared of? It was only Mr. Taylor."
"Yeah? Oh, I know that. He just surprised me. Let's leave the poop bag on his doorstep. He deserves it for scaring us away so we wouldn't go to his house for candy."
"Maybe later." Benny looked around and frowned in puzzlement. "Why do ya think so many of the lights are out on Oak Street?"
Tommy shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose they musta run out of candy. Mrs. Dracula lives third house kitty-corner. Do you wanna go there?"
After his recent fright, Benny wasn't sure. "Her light's on. It looks like she's home."
"No one else will go there, for sure," Tommy said. "I will if you will. I dare ya."
"Okay. Let's."
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