“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
