by Scott, D. D.
“He’ll be there.” I brushed the hair from Nina’s eyes. Then I got their orange plastic pumpkin-shaped candy containers from the kitchen counter and handed them to the girls.
“I need daddy to see how green I am.” Nancy spun around, her black sparkly long cape flowing around the black dress. Her black shoes, complete with curled up toes, stuck out from the hem.
“You both are the prettiest witches around.” I crossed my arms over my chest and nodded my head.
“We aren’t supposed to be pretty. We are supposed to be ugly.” Nina frowned.
“Maybe you’re ugly. I’m pretty.” Nancy straightened her pointed hat.
“What do you think about just staying home and greeting trick or treaters like we do every year?” I hoped that they would agree and I could avoid the anxiety I felt about the night.
“Mahhhhhhmmmmm. You promised.” Nina stuck out her lower lip.
“Plus Timmy and Teddy are going to hand out candy.” Nancy crossed her arms over her chest, a pout on her lips. “We are the only kids in the entire whole world that never treat or tricked.”
Nina said, “It’s not treat or trick, its trick or treat.”
“Either way, we really don’t have to go,” I added.
“But Mom, you promised,” Nina said. “Please?”
“Yes. I promised.” I assured myself it would be fine. I mean, we would be in our neighborhood and only be gone for an hour or so. Then why did I feel on edge, like something could happen?
“So we’re going now to get some treats, right Mom?” Nancy pulled at the sleeve of my shirt.
“Are we going to do some tricks with the treats?” Nina asked. “Like do something funny to someone right?”
I sighed. I guess we were going whether I wanted to or not. “Remember, you both get one of my hands, and you must hold it at all times,” I said. “Okay? One hand in mine, the other on your candy bucket?”
They both nodded. Then I asked, “Any other questions before we leave?”
“Tonight’s okay to break the rule right?” Nina asked.
“What rule?” I asked.
“Taking candy from strangers,” Nina said.
“Um.” I grabbed my backpack purse, which held my wallet, lipstick, two metal flashlights and a can of mace. You could never be too safe. “But that is only because it’s Halloween and you are with me. Otherwise that rule still holds, got it?”
Nina and Nancy both nodded.
As we opened the front door of our craftsman style Ardsley park home, I spotted a man in a mask. He stood on the other side of our white wooden fence, on the sidewalk.
“Mom look. Mickey Mouse!” Nina shouted as she pointed at the person.
“A red Mickey!” Nancy added. “Cool!”
“Oh, that’s no Mickey Mouse. More like Creepy Mouse.” I watched the oversized eyes glow a bright white, from the red head. Huge round ears stuck on either side. The mouth took up half of his lower face, and appeared to light up into a wide grin. Like a television screen mouth which changed expressions. Otherwise he wore a normal black t-shirt and jeans. Still, Creepy Mouse freaked me out. I pulled myself together. Just a costume. There would be lots of them.
I tightened my grip on Nina and Nancy’s hands.
As we headed off down the sidewalk, Creepy Mouse followed, staying several feet behind us. Nina and Nancy didn’t notice. They were lost in the excitement of all the costumes and decorations as we made our way to the first porch. A slight wind caused a chill to run down my spine. Although it was in the high 80’s during the day, the nights were cooling off to the high 60’s. A good excuse to go home and get away from anyone that could harm my girls.
“It’s kind of getting chilly. What do you say we head back home and have some hot chocolate?” I asked.
“Maaahhhmmmm, I am not cold. Plus, we just started.” Nina wiggled her plastic pumpkin bucket. “I don’t even have any candy yet.”
“Me either.” Nancy tipped her bucket upside down.
Their big brown eyes pleaded with me.
A group of small costumed kids and a handful of adults walked around us to the door.
“Okay. Do not let go of my hand.” We climbed the few steps up to the white Victorian house. Orange lights were strung around the porch rails and spider webs hung from the ceiling. As the front door opened, I could smell hot apple cider.
As the girls got their candy, I glanced over my shoulder. In the distance, Creepy Mouse stood with a camera pointed in our direction.
What the heck? Okay calm down.
There are lots of people with cameras.
It was no big deal. I was letting my imagination get the best of me. Chuckling, I remembered the protection Andrew put over us so that nothing bad would happen. Wouldn’t that be great it if worked?
• • •
When we approached our tenth house—this time a Tudor style with a life sized witch on the porch—the girls let go of my hand and darted up, they were so wound up with all of the excitement of Halloween. Eating a few bite-sized pieces of chocolate sure didn’t help calm them down either.
Creepy Mouse still lurked behind us. He seemed to always stay a few feet away, just out of reach. But all the same, wherever we were, he was there too.
Should I worry? Asking myself the question didn’t stop me. I was worried in spite of the fact that there were lots of people we’d repeatedly seen over the past hour. But still, I wanted to see if Creepy Mouse was following us, or if it was just coincidence.
“Hey girls, why don’t we go across the street to that house?” I pointed to a white ranch.
“Mom, we need to go down this way,” Nina pointed up the sidewalk.
“Mom, we are supposed to stay in line, like at school right?” Nancy offered.
“That rule is not for Halloween. Plus, there’s no wait for candy over there. And it is my friend Patricia’s house. What do you say? C’mon.” I smiled. This way I could see if Creepy Mouse would follow us.
The girls took my hands again as we crossed the street. Creepy Mouse crossed the street behind us. He had to be following us.
Should I call the police? Andrew? Okay. Calm down.
Maybe I just needed to talk to Creepy Mouse. Make sure he wasn’t some kind of serial killer child molester. Right?”
When we reached the sidewalk in front of the ranch-style house my friend Patricia greeted us.
“My, don’t you two look cute,” she said to the girls.
“We’re not cute,” Nancy said. “We’re scary.”
“Watch the girls for a minute,” I said. “I have to do something.”
She nodded and continued chatting with the twins.
I whirled on one heel and stormed over to Creepy Mouse. He jerked, startled, as I approached. His head swiveled from side to side as he looked around.
Poking him in the chest, “Who are you and why are you following my girls?”
“Dead mouse.” A muffled, “I am taking pictures of your girls.”
“You will be a dead mouse when I get through with you.” Rage filled me as I took that as an admission to stalking my twins. I grabbed my backpack purse and whipped it around, swinging at him. My breath coming out in short pants, adrenaline surging in my blood. My dark brown hair flying in my face so that I could barely see.
As my purse hit the large head, he tumbled to the ground. I leaped on top of him and pummeled him with my backpack. I grabbed my can of mace. “You coward. Show me your face. I will not have you harassing my children. Stalker!”
From the porch, Patricia yelled to me. “Oh my goodness, Cat. Why are you beating up that mouse! Do you need my help? Should I call the police?”
“Mommy is wrestling the mouse.” The girls squealed in delight as they stood on the porch next to Patricia. They must have thought this was a normal part of trick or treat.
I screamed at the mouse, holding the can of mace near the mask, “Who are you?” My husband Andrew ran over and pulled me off Creepy Mouse.
“Cat, why are you beating up George?” Andrew held me.
Almost sobbing I said, “George?”
“Yes. It’s me,” the mouse answered, as he lay crumpled on the cement sidewalk, in a pile of leaves.
“George? You’re Creepy Mouse?” The surge of energy drained me as I caught my breath, Andrews arm around my shoulder.
“No. Dead mouse.” George retrieved his iPhone from a pile of nearby leaves.
“Dead mouse? You’re not dead. I didn’t kill you,” I said.
“Cat, you were really pounding on him. It looked like you were going to kill him. What was going on?” Andrew stood back from me and shook his head, a slight grin on his face.
“I am so sorry. I didn’t know it was you.” I said to George as I helped him off the ground. My shirt soaked with sweat, my heart still speeding. “And what is a dead mouse?”
“Not a dead rodent.” George brushed dirt from his pants, then removed the head which was now a little crushed. “Deadmau5. He’s a techno music artist. This is my Halloween costume I was trying to tell you about it.”
“Oh.” My paranoia really had gotten the better of me. I had just attacked an employee and almost used mace on him. “I am so sorry for tackling you. What’s going on?”
“Cat, I asked George to take pictures of the girls trick or treating until I got here,” Andrew said helping George with his costume head.
“Yeah, Mr. Thomson wanted to finish the shipment, and I had the party to go to. So I said I would leave and take pictures. And I had to get dressed for the party anyways, so I thought why not wear my costume.” George adjusted his eyeglasses, the wire frame a little bent. “It was no big deal. Well, until you tackled me”
“Really, I am so very sorry. Are you all right?” I put my hand on George’s shoulder. “I really thought you were some weirdo stalking us. Why didn’t you just come over and tell us what you were doing, instead of following us?”
“Because I think candid shots are much better than posed ones, so I stayed back to get some good ones of the girls.” George sighed as he held his camera. “If my iPhone isn’t broke. You are pretty tough for such a petite lady.”
“I didn’t mean to crush your head, or your glasses or phone. Really, I feel so horrible.” I grimaced.
“Well, I’m sorry I scared you.” George examined his phone.
“Thank you George for covering for me. I’m sorry about the mix up,” Andrew offered.
“You mean mix up like me attacking him?” I felt so ashamed.
“I think we owe you a night off with pay,” Andrew shook George’s hand.
“And a new iPhone too,” I added.
“Actually, my iPhone is still working.” George smiled. “And it looks like I got footage of the whole knock down. This will be great for You Tube.”
“Glad I could help,” I patted George’s back. “Next time let me know who you are, okay?”
“Sure thing, Mrs. Thomson. Got to hit the party now. The night is young.” George waved as he walked away. Then he shouted over his shoulder,”But I don’t think I’ll get any better footage than what I already have.”
The girls ran over to us and grabbed Andrew’s leg. Nina looked up. “Daddy you made it. I knew you would.”
“You kept your promise. You’re here.” Nancy’s voice rose, “Did you see Mom?”
“Yeah did you see her? That was fun. What a great trick Mom. Who are you going to beat up next?” Nina asked.
“Yeah. Beat up someone else.” Nancy giggled. “I love treat or trick.”
Andrew laughed. “Yes, this will go down in the Thomson family Halloween history as the night that Cat beat up a dead mouse.”
THE END
ABOUT LOIS LAVRISA
Lois Lavrisa writes Mystery with a Twist. Her first mystery LIQUID LIES, made the Amazon top 100 Bestseller and Amazon Hot New Release, is set in an affluent lake town in Wisconsin. Fast paced with twists and turns are around every corner, it’ll keep you guessing what happens next.
Her women’s fiction, HARMONY HILL asks the question, “What would you do if you found out that your life was a lie?” HARMONY HILL will be available soon. Her short story “Picture not Perfect” is in a young adult anthology called ETERNAL SPRING which garnered great reviews upon release in April 2012. Another short story “Turnabout Twist”: is included in The WG2E All-For-Indies Anthologies: Summer Fling Edition. In 2012 she will write short stories for two additional anthologies.
She’s working on a cozy mystery series, THE CHUBBY CHICKS CLUB about sassy southern sleuths, set in Savannah, Georgia. THE CHUBBY CHICKS CLUB is a rag tag group of friends (not all chubby nor all chicks) who find themselves investigating a friend’s mysterious death, with time running out for them to find the killer before the killer finds them. THE CHUBBY CHICKS CLUB, book one, should be completed in 2013.
She’s been married to her aerospace husband Tom for over 21 years and they have four children - two boys and two girls. She’s a member of several writing organizations including: Mystery Writers of America (MWA), Romance Writers of America (RWA) and Sisters in Crime (SIC). Currently, she’s serving as vice president of the Low Country RWA. For the past six years she’s been a member of the Savannah Pen & Ink writers group. She’s written for a local newspaper, a magazine, numerous newsletters and posts weekly on a blog. Additionally, Lois has worked as an adjunct instructor and a technical writer.
If you want to contact her, please go to www.loislavrisa.com, www.liquidlies.com, www.facebook.com/authorloislavrisa, www.thechubbychicksclub.com, www.facebook.com/loislavrisa, twitter.com/loislavrisa or www.goodreads.com/loislavrisa.
Not a Sparkle in Sight
By P.R. Mason
Gotta love those sparkly vampires. The ones that glittered in the sunlight. But me? Gerard Kelly? I wasn’t glittery. No, not a sparkle in sight.
Entering the packed dance club, I glanced down at my iPhone to check out the photo attachment to the email, which had set up this date. I wanted to be able to find her —Becky—in this crowd. My date’s image smiled up at me, showing lots of perfectly aligned, very white teeth against her sun-kissed skin. Her blonde, shoulder-length hair fell in perfect ringlets and her vivid green eyes twinkled. She was gorgeous.
I might not have had a chance with a girl like her in another unlife, but then the glittery vampires came along and were a fantastic public relations boon for me. Much better than that hideous monster of silent movie times with its sunken eyes, misshapen hands and saber-toothed tiger fangs.
Not that my appearance was anything like Nosferatu. But I also didn’t look like Undead Ed—The iridescent one, not the undead Ed Layton I used to hang out with before he took up residence with the homeless under the I-16 overpass. My hair didn’t make that cool upturn at the bangs like Iridescent Ed. When you couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror, it was difficult to add the amount of product that upturned, spiky bangs required. Although, I definitely didn’t go unwashed, like Ed Layton, either. I at least ran a comb through my medium-length, brown hair.
I might be dead but I did have a little more pride of appearance than a zombie, thanks very much, I thought.
Scanning the interior, I spotted Becky at the bar. She was partially turned away, chatting to some guy. Her body—encased in a neon blue, spandex mini-dress that made her legs seem to go up to her neck—was every bit as beautiful as her face.
I stuck the phone into the pocket of my sport coat, and adjusted the collar of the white dress shirt I’d worn over jeans, before turning on the swagger and moving toward her.
Game on.
The last time I’d seen my reflection almost two centuries ago— before the big turn — I had a resemblance to Robert Downy Jr. A young RDJ since I died at seventeen. Okay, okay. My memory might have been a little self-aggrandizing but who would be a member of Team Gerard’s pep squad if I wasn’t?
So I was somewhere between teen heartthrob and homeless brain eater in the looks department. But, even so, when it ca
me to the ladies, these days I could attract them like maggots to a corpse. Those sparkly vampires had been a godsend. They were definitely a gift from that author. What was her name? I couldn’t quite remember.
Anyway, the author who created sparkling vampires had created a monster. A monster throng of girls, that is. Those Twi-hards were in love with vampires. They all wanted me to bite them before I even attempted to exert any mind control. And, besides, I’d always sucked at that. Just wasn’t a talent of mine. Some might have been able to do it, but I’d never moved a human’s mind to choose chocolate over vanilla ice cream let alone enthralling them enough give up their life’s blood to me.
But that had changed. All I needed to get an appetizer these days was a simple ad on Craigslist: Lonely vampire looking for a hook-up that could lead to love.
Reaching her side, I tapped her shoulder. Becky started, jumping a bit before turning my way. She wore hoop earrings and a necklace of shiny rectangles fashioned into a vee.
Cheap metal. Costume jewelry. Nothing to worry about there.
One time I’d had to ask my “date” to remove a nose ring. The thing had been pure silver. For my kind, silver was debilitating and even deadly in enough quantity.
“Becky?” I asked, knowing the answer.
Her face relaxed into a slight smile. “You must be Gerard.” She had to yell to be heard over throb of the dance music in the club. Even so, she had a melodic, high-pitched Betty Boop tone to her voice I found attractive.
She held out her hand offering to shake and instead I brought it to my lips and kissed the back. She giggled in response.
“You’re really a vampire?” she questioned with a squeak.
