Читать книгу A Map of the Dark - John Dixon - Страница 6

1

Candy Land

Evelyn Schmidt got cancer in 1963. She found out the day before Halloween and was dead within a week. Halloween fell on a Thursday that year. It was the Halloween Chuck threw up, Carner went nuts, and Omsted’s brother killed Putzie Van Vonderan.

During recess on Thursday morning Chuck found Omsted smoking a cigarette with Carner and Rusch in the corner of the church doorway. Omsted was saying, “—she’s giving him a note this morning saying to meet her in Legion Park tonight at nine.”

Rusch saw Chuck and said, “This doorway’s only for sixth-graders.”

Omsted said, “Leave him.”

“He gives me the creeps hanging around all the time.”

Omsted took the cigarette out of Rusch’s hand, took a drag on it, and passed it to Carner. Carner stuck his head out of the doorway, looked around quickly, puffed on the cigarette, and passed it back to Rusch. Rusch took a drag off the cigarette and kept it.

Omsted punched Chuck on the shoulder.

Dale Lynkowski came around the corner chasing a kickball. Chuck slipped behind Omsted. Dale kicked the ball back towards the playground and ran off.

Rusch said, “My sister’s got one of the Schmidt kids in her class.”

Chuck said, “They ain’t in class anymore. The nuns took ’em out.”

“How do you know?”

“I got a friend—”

“Then why don’t you go play with him?”

Rusch tried to hit Chuck on the back of the head. Chuck jumped out of the doorway and Rusch’s hand hit the door instead. Carner and Omsted laughed. Rusch finished the cigarette, stepped on it, and said, “Let’s get outta here.”

On the way back to the playground Rusch asked Chuck if it was true he used to live in the house that Putzie Van Vonderan lived in.

“Might be.”

“I sure wouldn’t want a bunch of farmers living in my old house. They probably keep chickens in your old bedroom.”

“I don’t care if they keep Putzie in my old bedroom,” Chuck said. “I don’t sleep in it any more.”

Rusch started to chase him, but Sister Fidelas came out of the school clanging the recess bell, yelling for everyone to get in line. Chuck ran to the line for the fifth grade; Rusch, Omsted, and Carner walked over to where the sixth-graders were lining up. When the fourth grade line went past on their way back inside, Dale Lynkowski asked Chuck why that bigger guy was chasing him.

Chuck said, “He wasn’t chasing me. He’s a friend of mine.”

Sister Fidelas gave her bell a clang and yelled, “No talking in line!”

After lunch, Sister Brigitta, the principal, came around to each class and told them they should give up trick-or-treating that night and instead say a prayer for Evelyn’s soul.

When school was over, Chuck cut out before Dale could find him and walked up the hill behind Omsted, Carner, and Rusch.

Rusch mimicked the way Sister Brigitta had talked about Evelyn. He gave Chuck a shove and said, “I bet you believed her, too.”

Chuck said, “Nuns can’t make up sins, only priests can.”

Rusch poked Omsted and said, “See, I told you he was going trick-or-treating.”

Chuck said, “I am not.”

“Liar.”

“What are you guys doing?”

“None of your business,” Carner said.

They stopped at Erie Street to let a gas truck go past. Chuck said, “You’re probably gonna wax the windows at the priest’s house.”

Rusch and Carner burst out laughing. Omsted turned around and winked at Chuck. They all crossed Erie Street.

Chuck said, “Last year me and Dale Lynkowski waxed the windows at the convent and they blamed David Schmidt.”

“Waxing windows is for babies,” Rusch said.

“It’s probably better’n what you’re doing.”

Rusch stopped walking and turned to face Chuck.

Omsted said, “Don’t even think about it.”

Rusch started walking again, still facing Chuck. When Carner stopped at the corner, Rusch bumped into him.

Carner said “What?” and brushed his shoulder where Rusch had bumped him.

Omsted said, “Keep walking.”

Rusch said, “Omsted’s afraid I’m gonna spill the beans to the squirt.”

Omsted said, “You ain’t nuts” and crossed Huron Street with Carner.

Chuck tried to walk past Rusch, but Rusch caught him by the shoulder and said, “You wanna know what we’re doing tonight?”

“I don’t care what you’re doing.”

Omsted hollered across the street for Rusch to knock it off.

Rusch put his face close to Chuck’s.

Carner and Omsted came back across Huron.

Rusch said, “We’re going to Legion Park tonight. Omsted’s brother is gonna kill Putzie Van Vonderan.”

Omsted said, “Shit.”

Rusch straightened up, smiling.

Chuck said, “So?”

Rusch’s mouth fell open.

Carner hooted in a high, girlish voice.

Chuck said, “I don’t care if he kills the whole family.”

Omsted started laughing; then Carner, too. Rusch shoved Chuck backwards, called him a stupid little shit, and crossed Huron Street in front of a truck. The truck blew its horn, but Rusch gave it the finger and kept walking. Omsted sat down on a fire hydrant, laughing and holding his stomach.

After a while, Omsted said, “Squirt, you’re all right” and the three of them continued walking. They caught up with Rusch at Ontario.

Ontario Street was where Legion Park started. It stretched five blocks up the hill and ended in a picnic grove at the top. The grove was full of oak trees, their yellow leaves on the ground. On the flat part below, elms had dropped red leaves onto the street. A tennis court took up the corner by Ontario, and behind it were a swing set and a shack that gave out bean bags in the summer. There was a mound of dead leaves against the shack where kids had made a leaf fort.

Across the street, on the corner, was the house where Evelyn Schmidt lived. It was a crumbling white house with a front hallway shaped like a church steeple, crooked steps down to the sidewalk, and a bare apple tree in the front yard.

When the boys reached Rusch he was standing with his arms folded, staring at the house. Carner bumped him in the back of the knees and said, “What you looking for? Ghosts?”

Rusch said, “You think she’s still in there?”

Omsted said, “She’s dying. They took her to the hospital.”

“She ain’t going to the hospital. She wants to die at home,” Chuck said.

Rusch said, “How would you know?”

Chuck said, “My ma’s friends with her.”

Rusch and Carner and Omsted all looked at him.

“She was.”

Rusch said, “I hope she ain’t touched her lately.”

“I didn’t say she touched her. I said they were friends.”

Rusch said, “I told you he was an idiot” and started down the block past Evelyn’s house. Omsted and Carner followed, laughing. When Chuck tried to follow, Rusch turned around and shoved him. “Stay away from us, cancer boy.”

Chuck fell on the sidewalk. He got up, wiping his hands on his jacket. “I don’t have cancer.”

Omsted told Rusch to knock it off.

A door banged in the backyard of a house a few doors down. A fat kid in an old coat threw a brown bag in a garbage can and ran back inside.

Rusch pointed through the yards and said, “There’s your old house, asshole. Why don’t you go back there and give Putzie’s brother cancer?”

Then a door creaked and someone was coming out of Evelyn’s house.

Carner screamed “Shit!” and ran into the middle of the road.

Rusch ran after him, waving his arms over his head, screaming, “It’s Evelyn’s ghost!”

Carner screamed again, like he meant it this time, and took off up the hill with Rusch behind him, still waving his arms. Omsted winked at Chuck and trotted off after the other two, picking up speed the closer he got to them.

The Schmidts’ front door banged shut, and David’s sister, Connie, was standing on the porch holding a jack-o’-lantern in her arms. She grinned at Chuck over the top of the jack-o’-lantern, but Chuck turned his head as though someone in the park was calling him and took off running towards the shack.

Halfway to the shack he cut up the hill, kicking up leaves as he ran into the picnic grove. He cut back to the road and came out of the park where the other guys should have been by now, but they were still a block below him, walking backwards, staring down the hill at Evelyn’s house.

As Chuck came up behind them, Carner was saying, “He’s probably in her house eating cookies.”

Omsted said, “He ain’t nuts.”

Rusch said, “Let’s clear out before he finds us again.”

“I already found you,” Chuck said.

They all jumped. Carner yelled, “Jesus Christ!” and wheeled around.

Rusch said, “She see you?”

“I think she chased me. I cut through the park.”

Carner said, “She’s dying. How could she chase you?”

“She ain’t dead yet.”

They walked up the hill, Carner ahead of the others. When a flock of geese flew over the park Carner stopped to watch them. Rusch collared him and spun him around to face Omsted and Chuck. Carner tried to shrug him off.

“Carner almost pissed his pants. I’ve never seen him so scared.”

“I was scared because you were screaming.”

Rusch messed up Carner’s hair and let go of him. Carner yelled “goddamnit” and walked out into the road to comb his hair.

“Get a crew cut,” Rusch said.

The others walked past Carner to Elm Street, the entrance to the subdivision where the nice houses started, houses with garages built into them and driveways in front instead of an alley in the back. By the time they reached Maple Street, where Chuck and Omsted lived, Carner had caught up with them. He and Rusch cut through a backyard to the street where the big houses were, the ones with yards like parks behind iron fences.

Chuck’s house was on the first block of Maple Street. Omsted’s was at the end of the second, where the road ended in a field of bare, black trees whose thick branches stretched across the sky. The sun was setting and the sky behind the trees was orange, then yellow, then green.

“God, I hate winter,” Omsted said, looking up at the sky, his mouth tight.

Chuck said, “You think what Sister Brigitta said was true? About God remembering when it was our turn to die if we didn’t give up trick-or-treating for Evelyn tonight?”

“By the time I’m ready to die, God ain’t gonna remember who Evelyn was.” They kept walking towards the black trees and the orange-green sky.

When they got to Chuck’s house, Omsted stopped by the mailbox and said, “My brother’s not really gonna kill Putzie Van Vonderan tonight.”

“He’s gonna beat him up though, ain’t he?”

“He might.”

“Did Putzie do something?”

“He’s a farmer. He don’t have to do nothing.”

A crow cawed over their heads, disappeared among branches at the end of the road.

“He tried to say hello to my brother’s girlfriend yesterday.”

The crow cawed at them from the end of the block.

“It’d probably be better if you didn’t tell anybody.”

“What do I care if some farmer gets beat up?”

“You’re all right, squirt.” Omsted punched Chuck on the shoulder, said, “later,” and took off at a run.

Chuck yelled, “What time are you going there?”

Omsted turned around, walking backwards, and said, “Late.”

“I could go there with you.”

“You got trick-or-treating to do.”

“I ain’t going.”

“You better. Next year you’ll be too old.”

“I’m already—”

But Omsted yelled, “Save me some candy,” and ran off down the block.

That night when Chuck came out of his room with his trick-or-treat bag his mother pushed her hair back with a handful of dishwater and asked why he wasn’t wearing his pirate costume.

“It’s in my bag,” Chuck said. I’m putting it on at my friend’s house.”

Lizzie said, “He’s lying. He doesn’t have any friends.” His sister was sitting at the kitchen table gluing pink sparkles to the back of her hands to match her princess dress.

Chuck said, “What are you gonna be? A Christmas cookie?”

Chuck’s sister yelled to her mother that Chuck was making fun of her. Chuck said nobody needed to make fun of her, she was funny enough herself. Their mother told them both to shut up or they’d be doing their trick-or-treating in their rooms.

Chuck said, “I’m going,” but his mother yelled, “Wait a minute” before he got to the back door.

Chuck waited, pushing the door open with his foot.

His mother pulled a plate out of the sink and rinsed it. His sister rubbed glue on her forehead, closed her eyes, and threw sprinkles in her face. His mother put her hands back in the dish water.

“Halloween’s gonna be over in three hours, you know.”

“Stay away from Ontario Street.”

“I will.”

Lizzie said, “He will not. He’s going with Dale Lynkowski.” She closed her eyes and shook some of the sprinkles off her face.

Chuck said, “She’s spilling that stuff on the floor.”

Chuck’s mother turned her head, snapped at his sister that the house wasn’t a pigsty, then turned back to Chuck.

“I promised Dale a long time ago.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“He has to go with Dale,” Lizzie said. “All the guys up here think he’s a baby.”

Chuck said, “I’m going.”

He went out the back door, kicking the storm door open so it would slam behind him. His mother caught it before it closed, and gave him a hard stare.

“What?” Chuck said.

“You stay away from David’s house. His mother’s sick.”

“Like the whole town doesn’t know that.”

“And don’t take any candy from him either.”

“I know what cancer is.”

In the kitchen, his sister said, “He swore.” His mother turned and yelled at her to get the sparkles off the goddamn floor, and Chuck ran for the gate.

The moon was hiding at the edge of the sky when Chuck came out onto Maple Street. By the time he got to Legion Park it had climbed behind the trees, glowing orange, with clouds like black mountains behind it. At a white house with pillars across from the park, a fat guy in a tie was handing out candy to a crowd of kids. Chuck pulled his pirate mask out of his bag and ran up on the porch; the guy threw a purple Dum-Dum into his bag. Chuck ran back to the street, shoved his mask back in the bag, dug the Dum-Dum out, and walked down the hill sucking it.

A block further down, Rusch and Carner were waiting under a street light. Carner was holding onto a street sign with one hand, swinging around it in a slow circle. Rusch spotted Chuck and walked into the middle of the road to block his path. He pulled the Dum-Dum out of Chuck’s mouth by the stick and said, “Look who’s trick-or-treating.”

“I am not.”

Carner said, “Where’d you get the sucker then?”

“My ma’s giving ’em out.”

Carner came out into the road. “What about the trick-or-treat bag? She giving those out, too?”

Chuck said, “It’s a present—for Evelyn.”

Carner stepped behind Rusch.

Rusch said, “Bullshit.”

Carner said, “You don’t give presents to people with cancer.”

A warm hand clamped itself around Chuck’s mouth, and Omsted hollered, “You’re dead!” He spun Chuck around and winked at him.

All three of the guys were wearing dark hooded sweatshirts.

Rusch said, “Don’t touch him. He’s got cancer.”

Omsted said, “I touch you and you got cooties.”

Carner said, “He’s bringing that bag to Evelyn Schmidt.”

“So? She ain’t touched it yet.” Omsted took his hand from Chuck’s shoulder and wiped it on the front of his sweatshirt.

Something squealed in the dark, making Carner jump, and Spinelli slid to a stop on his bike. He was wearing a high-school letter jacket, red with white leather sleeves, and his blond hair was greased and combed into a curl over his forehead. He flicked his cigarette butt at Omsted’s feet and asked, “Where’s your brother?”

Rusch said, “Home practicing his swing.”

Carner giggled.

Spinelli said, “Shut up, you two.”

Rusch said, “Make me.”

Spinelli said, “I don’t make shit.”

Omsted walked behind Spinelli’s bike, snickering. He tapped his toe against Spinelli’s back tire and said, “I hear Putzie almost wet his pants when your sister gave him that note this morning.”

Spinelli said, “I asked you a question.”

“I wasn’t listening.”

“Where the hell’s your brother?”

Omsted shrugged and said, “Probably out looking for you.”

“Shit.” Spinelli shook his head at the group, spotted Chuck for the first time and said, “Who the hell are you?”

Chuck said, “Nobody you know.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way,” Spinelli said and stood up on the pedals of his bike.

Omsted said, “See you at the park.”

“You stay the hell out of there,” Spinelli said.

Rusch said, “It’s a free park.”

“Not tonight it ain’t. You go near that park, you’ll get your asses kicked.” Spinelli slammed his feet down on the pedals, his back tire shot gravel, and he took off down the hill.

Rusch dived down by Omsted’s feet and came up with Spinelli’s cigarette. He shoved it in his mouth and drew hard, but it had already burned out. He tossed it back to the curb and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Omsted waved over his shoulder and said, “Later, squirt.”

“Where you guys going?”

Omsted said, “Out.”

Rusch said, “And don’t try to follow us or I’ll kick your ass.”

“I ain’t afraid of you.”

Rusch said, “You will be.”

Carner giggled.

Omsted said, “You get any licorice, save it for me.” He rapped his knuckles on Rusch’s head, hollered that the last one down the hill was an asshole, and the three of them took off running. Halfway down the hill they started walking again, punching each other and laughing until they got to Ontario, then they ran screaming past Evelyn’s house and disappeared in the dark under the trees near Erie Street.

Dale’s house was next to Chuck’s old house, on the same block as the Schmidts’. Chuck walked down the hill until he was almost to Ontario; then he ran past Evelyn’s house and didn’t stop until he got to Dale’s. Dale was on the front steps in a superman costume, the mask tipped up on his head. A fat kid in a Spiderman costume was sitting on the steps behind him.

“Who’s that?” Chuck asked.

The fat kid said, “I told ya he wouldn’t recognize me.”

He tipped his mask back. It was Putzie’s brother, Little Lee.

“What’s he doing here?”

Dale said, “My ma says we gotta ditch David.”

Little Lee grinned and said, “So he asked me instead.”

“Well, I’m unasking you.” Chuck shoved him off the side of the steps. Lee fell on his back in the grass and cried out.

“Look, it’s a talking blob.”

Dale said, “Leave him alone.”

Chuck put his mask on. “Anybody sees us, you tell ’em the ­farmer’s with you.”

Dale pulled his mask down over his face.

Little Lee said, “I live in the same house you used to.”

Chuck said, “Yeah, but I moved when I heard the farmers were coming to town.”

They skipped Little Lee’s house because Chuck said he wasn’t wasting his time on cheap farmer candy.

Little Lee said, “Banana chews ain’t cheap.”

“Maybe not to a farmer,” Chuck said, and ran ahead of them to the Pflugers’.

Mr. Pfluger was a beekeeper, so the Pflugers gave away Bit-O-Honeys every year. Chuck hollered, “Trick or treat,” and when Little Lee and Dale came up on the porch behind him, Chuck stepped in front of Little Lee so it looked like Chuck and Dale were together and Little Lee was by himself. Mrs. Pfluger wore a black and yellow bonnet with antennas. She said any monsters that wanted treats from her were going to have to show their faces.

Chuck pushed up his mask and grinned.

Mrs. Pfluger dug a Bit-O-Honey out of her apron pocket and said it was good to see him in the neighborhood again. He thanked her and jumped off the porch.

When Little Lee lifted his mask she said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” He told her he was Leroy Van Vonderan from the house next door. Mrs. Pfluger said, “That’s right, the farm family,” and gave him his candy bar.

On the sidewalk, Chuck told Little Lee to keep his mask down and if anyone asked who he was to say he was the mystery guest. Dale told Little Lee he could say whatever he wanted. Chuck said, “Remember that when the kids at school hear you been out trick-or-treating with farmers.”

The house next to the Pflugers’ was Evelyn’s. Dale said they should cut across the street and go back up Ontario, but Chuck said if they ran past fast enough they could cut through Legion Park to the Kolbs’ and nobody’d see them.

Little Lee said, “What if David’s looking out the window?”

Chuck said, “We’re wearing masks, stupid.”

“He was with us when we bought ’em, stupid,” Dale said.

Chuck said, “I ain’t so stupid I hang out with farmers.”

Little Lee yelled, “I ain’t a farmer!”

Suddenly the Schmidts’ front door creaked open; all three of them jumped behind the bushes next to the Pflugers’ porch.

David came out of the house carrying a big white bowl, held the door open and set the bowl in front of it so it wouldn’t close. The bowl was full of candy. David came to the bottom of the steps and stood there looking in the direction of Dale’s house, his hand over his eyes. He kicked at the frozen grass for a minute, then went back in the house.

Dale said, “He’s looking for us.”

Little Lee said they should go before David came back.

Chuck told him to shut up.

Little Lee said, “It smells here.”

“Yeah, like manure,” Chuck said,

Dale whispered, “Shut up,” and clamped his hand over Little Lee’s mouth as David came back out carrying a jack-o’-lantern so big he couldn’t get his arms all the way around it. He dropped the jack-o’-lantern against the door next to the bowl and came back down to the sidewalk, looking up and down the street this time. He was wearing long underwear dyed red and had a devil’s mask tipped back on his head. His sister came out of the house in beat-up yellow pajamas, a mouse mask around her neck. She took a piece of candy from the bowl, unwrapped it and ate it. David came back to the steps and sat at the bottom with his back to her.

Laughter broke out in the dark. David looked up. Connie scrambled down the steps and past him to the sidewalk. A big girl ran out of the park chasing a smaller girl; both were wearing duck masks. They ran past Connie, giggling, and on to the Pflugers’ porch, hollering “Trick or treat!” and collapsing against one another. Connie came back to the steps.

David said, “Your friends ain’t coming.”

Connie said, “Neither are Chuck and Dale.”

“Chuck and Dale ain’t babies.”

“They’re assholes.”

“You don’t even know what an asshole is.”

Connie climbed past David and sat down next to the candy. The ducks left the Pflugers’ and ran off down Ontario Street, passing Aunt Jemima and the president’s wife coming from Little Lee’s. The president’s wife saw David and poked Aunt Jemima. Aunt Jemima threw her hands up and screamed. They ran past David and Connie and vanished into the park.

Little Lee pulled Dale’s hand off his mouth and said, “I ain’t spending Halloween under a porch.”

Chuck muttered, “Why not? You probably spent last Halloween in a barn.”

Little Lee raised his voice, “I did not—” but Dale clamped his hand so tight around his mouth that Little Lee gagged.

Dale whispered, “Shut up or I’ll rip your tongue out!”

Little Lee’s eyes got wide behind Dale’s hand. He nodded his head up and down fast. Dale rook his hand away. Little Lee started to whisper he wouldn’t do it again, then there was another noise on the Schmidts’ porch and they all turned to look.

“Holy cripes,” Chuck whispered.

Evelyn was standing on the porch in a purple house dress, her hair in pin curls, a cigarette dangling from her lips. Loose skin hung from her arms, and her legs were like sticks. She said to her kids, “Where are your friends?”

David said, “What do you care?” He was staring through the railing at the Pflugers’ bushes.

“Don’t you play smart-ass with me. I’m not in the mood,” Evelyn said and undid one of her pin curls. She ran the hair between her fingers, then nudged the candy bowl with her foot and said, “If you’re going to sit there, you can hand out candy while I take down my hair.”

David said, “Nobody wants our candy.”

“And I suppose that’s my fault.”

David turned to look up at her, his mouth hanging open.

Two little ghosts and a pumpkin-head came running out of the park. Evelyn reached down for the candy bowl.

“Don’t,” David said.

Evelyn picked her way down the steps between Connie and David, the candy bowl shaking in her hands, and reached the sidewalk as the ghosts and the pumpkin-head ran across the street. She took a handful of candy from the bowl and held it out to them.

The ghosts and the pumpkin-head froze when they saw Evelyn blocking their path. She raised the handful of candy, and when they didn’t move to take it she said “Happy Halloween” in a shaky voice. The pumpkin-head screamed, then the ghosts screamed, and all three ran out into the street, past Evelyn, past the Pflugers’, and disappeared into the darkness.

A skeleton coming in the opposite direction saw Evelyn, shrieked, and ran into the park.

David ran out to the sidewalk and yelled, “You pig, Neumeyer!” after the skeleton. The skeleton shrieked again in the darkness. The candy in Evelyn’s hand fell to the sidewalk. David knelt and scooped the candy into a pile.

Evelyn said, “It’s okay.”

“It is not okay!”

She reached down to put a hand on his shoulder and grabbed him by the collar when he tried to break away. She staggered as he jerked and turned, but held him tight by the back of his costume, the candy bowl tucked under her other arm. She shook him and yelled, “Listen to me.”

David stopped struggling.

“I want you to take your sister and go trick-or-treating.”

Connie yelled from the porch that she was waiting for Linda and Jane.

“I want you to go with your brother. Go get your bags.”

Connie got up and stomped into the house.

“I ain’t going,” David said.

“I need you to take Connie. She can’t go on her own.”

“Then why don’t you stay home and take her instead of getting drunk?”

Evelyn flung him away from her and he fell backward against a tree.

“I don’t want none of your games tonight, buster. You take your sister and you go trick-or-treating, and if she comes home crying you’ll wish I was drunk.”

David began to snivel. His mother went back up the steps and into the house, banging the candy dish down next to the door.

Chuck whispered, “What a crybaby.”

Little Lee said, “She could’ve hurt him when she slammed him into that tree.”

Connie came out with two grocery bags with pumpkins drawn on them, her mouse mask over her face. She stood by the tree next to David, holding one of the bags out to him.

David turned his face away.

Connie cried, “Mom said!” from under her mask.

David stood up, grabbed the bag, and marched out of the yard with Connie running after him.

Chuck jabbed Dale in the back and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

They climbed out from behind the Pflugers’ bushes and ran down Ontario Street, not stopping till they got to Dale’s house. Little Lee was out of breath and the front of his costume was stained with sweat.

Chuck said, “If you weren’t so fat, you could run faster.”

“He ain’t fat,” Dale said.

“Tell me that ain’t blubber hanging out from under his mask.”

There was screaming nearby. Little Lee jumped behind Dale. Omsted, Rusch, and Carner came running down the middle of the road, hoods pulled up, grabbing eggs from their sweatshirt pouches and throwing them at a couple of passing cars. They disappeared down George Street, heading for downtown.

Chuck said, “Let’s work our way down to the stores. We’ll get really good stuff if we get to Red Owl before it closes.”

Little Lee said his mother didn’t want him to go downtown.

Chuck said, “Good. You can trick-or-treat on this block and me and Dale can go by ourselves.”

Dale said, “We can work our way up the hill. People up there were giving out caramel apples and stuff last year.”

They walked to the corner of George and Ontario. A few blocks down, where the lights of the stores started, the guys were still hollering in the middle of the street.

Chuck said, “Ford’s Grocery is probably giving out candy bars.” He turned down George, nodding at Dale over his shoulder to follow him.

Dale said, “The Huevelmans are probably giving out Slo Pokes again. Last year they ran out before we got there.” He turned up George towards the hill.

Little Lee said, “What’s a Slo Poke?”

“Like you only not so fat,” Chuck said.

Dale headed away from Chuck up George Street. Little Lee raised his mask to stick his tongue out at Chuck, then followed Dale. Chuck watched until they were almost to the first house then ran to catch up to them. He elbowed Little Lee in the side as he went past.

Little Lee said, “Ouch.”

Chuck said, “Watch where you’re going,” then cut in front of Little Lee to walk next to Dale and said, “After the Huevelmans’ I’m going downtown whether anyone else comes or not.”

The first house had all its lights off. The second house was where Mr. Cotter, the undertaker, lived; nobody went there. The third house was Mrs. Beno’s. She gave out candy kisses. Chuck tried to trip Little Lee going up the steps, but missed and tripped a first-grader instead. When they were back on the sidewalk Chuck said, “Your farmer friend tripped that kid and almost killed him.”

“He’s not a farmer,” Dale said.

Little Lee swallowed the candy kiss he was eating, but before he could speak Chuck said, “Let’s cut across and see if the Gerkes are giving out popcorn balls again.”

They ran across to the Gerkes’, then back to the Hagers’, then down to the Danens’ on the corner. The Gerkes had popcorn balls, the Hagers gave out Tootsie Rolls, and the Danens had candy corn. On Huron Street they got candy corn at three more houses, and the Lietermans gave them Baby Ruths.

There were kids running everywhere by now, and people just stood in their doorways, handing out candy as the kids ran up. There was a crowd at the Huevelmans’. Chuck took his mask off and went through the line a second time. When he got back to the sidewalk, Little Lee told him going through the line twice was a sin.

“So go tell a nun,” Chuck said.

Little Lee peeled the wrapper off his Slo Poke and took a bite.

“No wonder you’re so fat.”

“You’re supposed to eat candy on Halloween.”

“Not all of it.”

Dale said he was going to the Johnsons’ and cut across the street. Little Lee followed, his mask tipped back on his head and the Slo Poke sticking out of his mouth. By the time Chuck crossed the street, Dale and Little Lee were already on the porch with a bunch of other kids. Mrs. Johnson, dressed like a witch, yanked the door open and cackled, “Who wants my ginger snaps?”

Chuck ducked behind a tree at the curb. Dale tried to jump off the porch but Mrs. Johnson collared him, saying, “Not so fast, little boy,” and led him into the house with the rest of the giggling kids. Mr. Johnson, dressed as Frankenstein, pulled the door shut.

Chuck ran back across the street and trick-or-treated his way down the block. He got home-made fudge, Dum-Dums, and a Clark Bar. He heard more screaming from downtown and saw guys running in and out of traffic by the school, but before he could tell who they were they ran off down a side street. He worked his way back to the Johnsons’, getting there just as Dale and the other kids came running out to the sidewalk. Mrs. Johnson was still cackling on the porch behind them.

Chuck said, “You stupids.”

Dale said, “She made us eat cookies.”

Little Lee said, “She tried to make us drink toad soup.”

Dale said, “It was apple juice.”

“Like a farmer’d know the difference,” Chuck said.

Dale scanned the other side of the street and said, “I think I’ll go see what the Vandeheys are giving out.”

Chuck said, “I was already there. They’re giving out cookies, too.”

Dale said, “What about the Hansens’, and the house on the corner?”

“Cookies.”

“What kind of cookies?” Little Lee said.

Dale said, “Who cares?” and started down the street towards the park.

“I thought we were going downtown,” Chuck said.

Dale kept walking. “We can cut through the park to the Kolbs’. The houses are closer together there.”

Little Lee stuck to Dale’s side. He asked if they shouldn’t be scared to walk through the park at night. Chuck waited until they’d crossed the street before running to catch up with them.

It was windy in the park, and the street lights creaked on their wires, making shadows that reached down from the trees. The moon was behind the clouds by now, gleaming high and white. Little Lee pointed up at it and said it was creepy.

Chuck came up behind them and said, “So go back home if you’re scared.”

“I didn’t say I was scared. I said it was creepy.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You’re creepy and I’m not afraid of you,” Little Lee said.

Dale laughed.

Chuck shoved Little Lee into a pile of leaves and kneeled on his chest. He tore Lee’s mask off and yelled, “You afraid of me now, farmer?”

Lee shouted for Dale. Dale put his hand on Chuck’s shoulder. Chuck shrugged him off. He grabbed a handful of leaves and shoved them in Lee’s face. “I asked, are you afraid of me now!”

Little Lee spat and choked on the leaves. Dale put his hand back on Chuck’s shoulder, and when Chuck tried to shrug him off again, Dale shoved back hard, knocking Chuck into the grass. Chuck scrambled to his feet, facing Dale over Little Lee, who lay on his back squealing.

Dale yelled at Little Lee to get up.

Chuck said, “He can’t get up. He’s too fat.”

“Nobody’s asking you,” Dale shouted. He picked Little Lee’s mask up from the grass. Broken elastic dangled from one side.

Chuck said. “I ain’t going trick-or-treating with anybody that ain’t got a mask.”

Little Lee pushed himself to his knees, yelling, “You broke it, asshole!”

Chuck went after Lee, hollering, “What did you call me, you farmer?”

“You’re an asshole!”

“Both of you shut up,” Dale said. He stepped between them, putting a hand out to protect Little Lee.

Chuck yelled, “I don’t gotta take lip from farmers” and tried to break past Dale, but Dale backhanded him, catching him right in the mouth.

Chuck stepped backwards and shook his head. His face stung and his ears were ringing. Dale held his ground, his eyes on Chuck. Little Lee was on his feet now, shaky hands twisting the top of his bag into a knot.

Chuck dragged his feet through the leaves over to a picnic table and sat on it.

Dale tied the elastic back on to Lee’s Spiderman mask and handed it to him.

Chuck said, “What are you now? His maid?”

“At least I ain’t an asshole.”

“I’d rather be an asshole than a farmer’s friend.”

Little Lee put on his mask and pushed it up to the top of his head. He and Dale headed out of the park without looking back at Chuck.

Chuck watched them until they got to the tennis court then hollered, “Don’t worry about that mask breaking again. You can always go as a farmer and scare people to death.”

He dug a handful of candy corn out of his bag and ate it one piece at a time as he watched the two of them leave the park. When they disappeared into the crowd, he folded his bag under his arm and followed.

There were lots of kids on the street , running down the sidewalks and up onto porches, jumping off porches and cutting across yards. Most of the houses had jack-o’-lanterns on their steps or ghosts in their trees. One house had a trellis with bats hanging from it. Chuck spotted Dale and Little Lee on the porch of a house with cobwebs in the windows. He went on to the next one. When they caught up with him at the third house he cut across the street. He passed them at the corner, crossing to the opposite side. Dale glared at him like he wanted to say something and Little Lee stuck his tongue out just as they went past. Chuck picked up a rock from the road and tossed it at Little Lee’s head, but it missed and hit Wilma Flintstone in the back.

There was more screaming down by the school and a group of bigger kids ran out into George Street carrying a jack-o’-lantern over their heads. They were close enough for Chuck to see their hoods and he could almost make out Omsted’s face. Chuck tucked his mask under his arm and ran to catch up with them, but before he even reached Huron Street they’d smashed the pumpkin on the roof of a passing car and disappeared back into the dark.

Chuck put his mask back on and turned down Huron. Kids were moving in mobs by now and Chuck was trick-or-treating at the same house as Dale and Little Lee before he noticed he’d caught up with them. They were in line ahead of him and he thought about jumping off the porch, but it looked like they were getting Snickers bars so he stayed. Little Lee stuck his nose in the air as he went past and almost fell down the steps. Dale stared Chuck down, then nodded at the last minute. Chuck laughed in his face.

Chuck cut over to Erie, but after three houses he ran into them again. It was an old house with a big porch and no railing. As Chuck was leaving he elbowed Little Lee in the side and knocked him off the porch. Lee fell into the bushes and screamed.

Chuck said, “Stupid farmers can’t even walk straight.”

A kid on the porch laughed and another kid mooed.

The guy handing out candy said, “That’s enough of that.”

Chuck oinked and jumped off the porch, landing in the front yard in time to see Omsted, Rusch, and Carner run down George Street with a leaf dummy on their backs.

Chuck dashed to the corner. There were trick-or-treaters down by the stores, and the leaf dummy was lying in the road between the church and the Texaco station, but the guys were already gone. A car full of Draculas ran over the dummy; it exploded and the Draculas laughed.

Chuck headed downtown.

The first store on George Street was Ford’s Grocery. Little Lee and Dale were standing outside the building in the dark just off George. Lee’s hands were shaking again. Dale grabbed Lee by the front of his costume and pulled him into the light from the store just as Chuck came across the street. They saw Chuck and froze.

Dale nodded at Chuck again. This time Chuck stared back, but smiled like he was thinking of a joke. He didn’t take his eyes off Dale until he’d stepped up onto the curb in front of him.

A beat-up station wagon jerked to a stop in front of the grocery, banging and shooting out smoke. Lee saw the station wagon, let out a cry, and ran off into the dark down Superior Street.

Dale yelled, “Little Lee! “

Chuck pointed down Superior and laughed.

The back door of the station wagon opened, and a pile of kids wearing paper-bag masks fell out. A tall kid in a white shirt with a Frankenstein bag on his head lifted out a little girl in a pink dress and a bag made into a crown through the front window. The other kids, all around Chuck’s age, spilled out of the back door until the sidewalk was full. The skinny guy at the wheel told the kids he’d meet them at the end of the block.

The tall kid said, “We wanna go to the drugstore.”

The guy hollered, “The end of the block!” and drove off.

The little girl in the pink dress grabbed the tall kid by the hand and the whole gang followed her into Ford’s.

There was a crash inside the store and the kids in the paper-bag masks ran back out. Somebody laughed inside and somebody swore; the door flew open and Omsted, Carner, and Rusch ran out, old man Ford chasing them. He got tangled up with the kids on the sidewalk, and by the time he got free Omsted and the other guys were already at the end of the block. Old man Ford shook his fist and yelled, “I know your names, you little bastards!”

The tall kid put his hands over the little girl’s ears; the other kids giggled.

Rusch yelled, “We know yours, too, asshole!” and the three of them ran down a side street by the dentist’s office.

Old man Ford cursed and went back into the store. The kids from the station wagon piled in after him. Chuck and Dale went in last and elbowed their way to the front. Casey Ford, the old man’s son, was sitting on the counter dressed as a vampire with red lipstick on his neck for blood and a plastic pumpkin filled with candy on his lap. The candy rack behind the counter had been tipped over and there was candy all over the floor.

Old man Ford yelled at the kids not to step on anything. Then he yelled at Casey, “Are you just going to sit there and let hooligans take over the entire store?”

Casey banged the pumpkin down on the counter and stormed into the back room, slamming the door behind him.

Old man Ford looked at the kids, the floor, and the broken rack behind the counter. He pointed to the pumpkin and said, “Each of you take one piece of candy and get out of here.”

The kids crowded around the pumpkin. Old man Ford yelled at them not to step on the candy on the floor unless they meant to pay for it; then he started kicking the candy into piles. There was a Slo Poke on the floor next to Chuck. He kicked it away from the rest of the candy and it slid across the floor and hit Dale’s foot.

Old man Ford yelled, “I saw that.”

Dale said, “I didn’t do nothing.”

“He didn’t,” Chuck said. “I saw him. It was that guy there.”

Chuck pointed at the tall guy in the Frankenstein mask.

The tall kid said, “That’s a lie!”

He was holding a Tootsie Roll he’d taken from the pumpkin. Old man Ford grabbed his hand, pulled the Tootsie Roll out of it and threw it back in the pumpkin.

The tall kid shouted, “That’s not fair!”

Old man Ford said, “I’ll give you fair. You’re too damn old to be trick-or-treating anyway.”

The tall kid stared at old man Ford, breathing hard through his mask, then turned and went outside.

Old man Ford said, “The rest of you get your candy and get out of here.”

Casey came out of the back room wearing a white T-shirt, the blood washed off his neck. He pulled on his letter jacket and left the store without looking back. While old man Ford was watching Casey, Chuck grabbed two handfuls of candy from the pumpkin and walked out.

Outside, the tall guy had taken off his mask and was smoking a cigarette. He had big ears and a pimply face. The girl in the pink dress dug a sucker out of her bag and offered it to him, but the tall guy shook his head. Dale was in the doorway eating a Dum-Dum. When he saw Chuck, the tall guy threw his cigarette down and began to lead the other kids away.

Dale nodded at Chuck.

Chuck said, “You lost Little Lee?”

The girl in the pink dress turned and said, “Little Lee?” She came running back up the block, calling out, “Little Lee’s here!” When she got to Chuck she said, “Where’s Little Lee?”

Chuck said, “He’s dead.”

The tall kid hollered, “Deena, get back here.”

The little girl’s lip started to shake.

“A cow ate him,” Chuck said.

The girl started bawling and ran back down the block towards the others. The tall kid came to meet her, picked her up, and carried her to the corner where the skinny guy was waiting in the station wagon.

Dale stared at Chuck and rolled the Dum-Dum around in his mouth.

Chuck said, “So where’s your friend?”

Dale said, “I guess he’s afraid of stores.”

Two small mice ran past them into the store. Old man Ford yelled, “We’re closed! Get the hell out!” and they ran off screaming down the block.

Chuck said, “I bet the drugstore’s giving out chocolate pumpkins again.”

Dale said, “You want to go see?”

Chuck shrugged. They began walking together down the block.

Danen’s Bakery was closed; so was Hansen’s Hardware. The dummies in the dress shop window were all wearing Lone Ranger masks and funny hats, but the store was closed. The dentist’s office was open and so was the De Pere Theater. Kids were running back and forth across the street between them.

The station wagon went by. The little girl was sitting on the tall kid’s lap. The guy who was driving pointed his finger across the seat at the tall guy and yelled at him.

Chuck asked Dale if he wanted to see what the theater was ­giving out.

Dale said, “It’s probably Jujubes.”

“It might be popcorn,” Chuck said, and dodged between the cars over to the theater. Dale followed. They got Milk Duds, then ran back across the street to the drugstore.

There was a party at the bar next to the drugstore on the corner. They had a jack-o’-lantern in the window and leaf dummies with beer bottles hanging by their necks on either side of it. A song about dancing monsters blared out through the doorway.

A woman in a swimsuit ran out of the bar with a champagne glass in her hand. When she saw Chuck and Dale she screamed, “Oh my God, monsters!” and ran back inside.

A woman inside the bar shouted, “Happy New Year!”

Chuck said, “You think they’re giving anything?”

Dale said, “Probably cigarettes.”

“Maybe beer.” Chuck cupped his hands to the window to try and see inside.

“I wonder if Evelyn’s in there?”

Dale said, “She’s dying. They wouldn’t let her in.”

The woman in the swimsuit pointed out the door and screamed, “Monsters! Monsters!” Chuck and Dale ran around the corner to the drugstore.

Little Lee was waiting outside the drugstore, holding his candy bag with both hands. It was torn at the top from where he’d been twisting it, and the bottom was starting to show holes.

Dale asked him why he didn’t wait outside Ford’s.

Little Lee said, “I took a short cut.”

Chuck said, “It must have been a farmer’s shortcut—five times around the block.”

“I got here before you did,” Little Lee said.

Chuck started into the drugstore, then stopped, his hand on the door.

Little Lee said, “You gotta open the door to get in, you know.”

Omsted, Carner, and Rusch were standing at the register with their arms folded. Mr. Giese was behind the counter shaking his head. Chuck moved back from the door and said, “Go in, if you’re in such a hurry.”

“I will.” Little Lee turned his nose up at Chuck and went inside. Dale looked at Chuck then followed Little Lee. Chuck took his mask off, put it in his bag, and hid his bag in the doorway of the doctor’s office next door. Then he counted to ten and went into the drugstore.

Omsted was leaning over the counter towards Mr. Giese, Carner and Rusch tight behind him. Dale and Little Lee were whispering by the postcard rack.

Omsted was saying, “This is my Halloween costume. I’m Elvis’s brother.”

Mr. Giese said, “I don’t care if you’re Elvis’s sister. Get out of my store.”

Carner looked round as Chuck came into the store and said, “Here’s Elvis’s dead baby. What does he get?”

“A ride to the police station with the rest of you in about fifteen seconds,” Mr. Giese said.

Chuck came down the aisle past Dale and Little Lee and stopped at the counter behind Omsted and the other guys.

Little Lee whispered, “Where’s your mask?”

“I’m wearing it,” Chuck said.

Dale took Little Lee by the arm and said, “Let’s get outta here.”

Omsted said, “Hey, squirt.”

Rusch said, “I thought you weren’t trick-or-treating.”

“I’m not. I came in to rob the place.”

Dale dragged Little Lee a few steps backward.

Omsted and Rusch and Carner laughed.

Mr. Giese leaned over the counter and yelled, “You what!”

The older boys looked at the younger boys. Little Lee looked at the floor. Chuck grinned at Omsted.

“You came in to what?”

Little Lee looked up and said, “Trick or treat?”

Carner laughed.

Rusch roared.

Chuck stepped up beside Omsted and said, “Trick or treat my ass.”

Omsted clapped Chuck on the back.

Mr. Giese said, “That’s it,” pulled a telephone from under the register, and put the receiver to his ear. Before he could dial, Chuck reached over the counter and knocked a rack of gum to the floor. Omsted whooped, Rusch howled. Carner grabbed a handful of gum and ran out the door, knocking Little Lee into the postcard rack. Mr. Giese tried to dial but he was watching the boys and his fingers kept missing the holes. Omsted and Rusch grabbed handfuls of gum. Chuck made a grab for a candy bar but Giese dropped the phone and grabbed him by the arm.

“Let me go, you fuck!” Chuck yelled.

Mr. Giese’ mouth fell open and he let go of Chuck’s arm. Omsted grabbed Chuck by the back of his jacket, spun him around and pushed him towards the front of the store, knocking over Dale who was trying to pull Little Lee out of the broken postcard rack.

Rusch and Carner were hiding in the doorway of the doctor’s office. They jumped out screaming when Omsted and Chuck ran past. Rusch had Chuck’s candy bag. It was torn open, and Chuck’s pirate mask was smashed on the ground. Rusch was stuffing the candy into the pouch of his sweatshirt.

Omsted slapped Chuck on the back, yelling, “Trick or treat my ass!”

The door to the drugstore flew open. Dale and Little Lee stumbled out, and the door banged shut behind them. They stood together on the sidewalk, glaring at Chuck. Carner and Rusch stopped laughing.

Chuck said, “What are you looking at?”

Dale said, “He called the cops.”

Omsted said, “The cops don’t even know who he is.”

Little Lee said, “I know who he is.”

Omsted said, “Then if the cops find out it’s gonna be your problem, ain’t it?”

Little Lee ducked behind Dale. His hands began to shake.

Dale said, “We’re going.”

Chuck said, “Be sure you take cowface with you.”

“I’m not a cowface!” Little Lee yelled. His bag rattled, and his head and shoulders began to shake, too.

Rusch said, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s Putzie’s brother,” Chuck said.

Carner said, “It figures.”

Rusch said, “He’s as ugly as his brother, too.”

“My brother ain’t ugly,” Little Lee said.

Chuck said, “Your brother’s a retard.”

“Ignore him,” Dale said and began to drag Little Lee across the street.

Little Lee pulled away and yelled at Chuck, “He ain’t too retarded to beat you up!”

“Your brother ain’t beating up anybody—”

Carner hollered, “Danger! Danger!”

“My brother can pound you all to pulp!”

“Your brother ain’t making anybody into pulp! Your brother’s gonna be pulp!”

Omsted said, “Squirt—” and grabbed for Chuck’s shoulder.

“Omsted’s brother’s gonna kill him in Legion Park tonight!” Chuck yelled.

Everybody froze.

Rusch hollered, “Shit!”

Little Lee shouted, “You’re a liar!”

Rusch lunged at Chuck, but Omsted had already pushed him hard against the drugstore window and was holding him by the throat.

Lee shook so hard that candy flew out of his bag.

Mr. Giese yelled, “I called the police!” The lights in front of the drugstore went off.

“Tell him it was a joke,” Omsted hissed at Chuck.

Chuck made a gasping noise and pulled at Omsted’s hand on his throat.

“You’re coming over there with me and telling your little friend you were making a bad joke.”

Omsted spun Chuck around, grabbed him by the collar, and marched him over to Little Lee. Rusch and Carner followed close behind. Little Lee dropped his candy bag, covered his head with his arms, and shouted, “Leave me alone!”

Omsted said, “Your friend wants to talk to you.”

Dale moved closer to Little Lee and said, “He ain’t our friend.”

“You’re gonna listen anyway,” Rusch said.

He pushed Dale off the curb, grabbed Little Lee by the neck and pried his arms away from his head. Little Lee screamed. Carner went out to the curb and looked up and down the street.

Rusch clamped his hands on Little Lee’s shoulders and said, “Shut up. Nobody’s hurting you.”

Little Lee stopped screaming and started to sniffle.

Omsted said, “Squirt’s got something he wants to tell you.” He shook Chuck by the neck.