“So, you ready to head home?”
The two teens trudged down the center of the street, jack-o-lantern buckets swinging with the weight of an evening’s worth of sugar. Evidence of a busy Halloween night was all around them: candy wrappers littered by younger, less environmentally conscious children; wilted pumpkins trying to stay upright; cobwebs strewn on every lawn. It was a clear, cool night - the best Halloween temperatures in years, and turnout had reflected that. But it was getting late, and there were half as many kids as two hours prior.
“There’s gotta be a couple more houses we haven’t hit,” the store-bought Thor said. His name was Easton, and he punctuated this thought by popping a Tootsie Roll in his mouth, though it didn’t prevent him from talking more. “This is our last Halloween trick-or-treating, man. We gotta make it count!”
“Yeah, I just can’t think of any places around here that we’ve missed,” Easton’s friend, an especially ratty Jack Sparrow named - aptly - Jack, said. “But no text from Mom yet, so that pressure’s off.”
“For now.” Easton surveyed the surrounding streets. He dumped the Tootsie Roll wrapper in his candy bucket, on top of the long blond Thor wig that he’d long since removed because it was too itchy. “What about Ashland Circle?” He stopped and looked up at the street sign, so Jack stopped too.
“There’s like two lights on down there, and nobody decorated.”
“That’s just to ward kids off. Everyone buys candy to give for Halloween, and if nobody turns up then that’s candy you get to keep yourself. My uncles do it all the time.”
“You realize how dumb that sounds, right?” Jack said. “Besides, I never liked this area. All those old houses give me the creeps…”
“Come on, where’s your sense of Halloween spirit? This is our last chance to do this!” Easton picked up his candy bucket and strode into the bowels of the cul-de-sac, straight towards the only house that still had lights on.
“Wait!” Jack cried out, gripping onto Easton’s red cape to stop him. He spun him around and clutched him by the shoulders. “Are you crazy? That’s Old Man Cravitz’s house!”
Easton shuddered. Stanley Cravitz was practically a household name in town. He was rude and abrasive to everyone, but he was particularly harsh on who he generally referred to as “the youths.” He’d call the cops on loitering students, he routinely confiscated toys from anyone unlucky enough to disturb him, some said he even ran an unsuccessful campaign in the ‘00s to ban anyone under 20 from visiting the local mall. If there was anyone you didn’t want to disturb on Halloween, it was Old Man Cravitz.
Easton, however, was unconvinced. "Come on, Jack. It’s our last chance to dress up and get candy, and we’ve been everywhere else. He’s not all bad, I think I saw him smile at a poodle once…”
“You’re insane, dude! I’m not getting on that man’s bad side if it kills me.” Jack backed away from his friend, returning to the cul-de-sac entrance. He called out “I’ll wait by the plaza fountain if you make it out alive!” before hurrying back down the street they arrived on and out of sight.
Easton stared up at the foreboding Victorian house at the end of the street. It was a shame the creepiest, likeliest-contender-for-being-built-on-a-cemetery, old house in the neighborhood was owned by the grouchiest, fun-hating person alive. It would have been perfect decked out for Halloween. Even now, swamped in darkness aside for a couple dull lights, it was terrifying to his young brain.
Easton gulped. Was he really that desperate for more candy? He couldn’t turn back now, he’d never hear the end of it from Jack. Besides, isn’t this what Halloween was all about? It would make an outrageous story to tell later on. Easton shook out his body in an attempt to get rid of his fears. Then he took several deep breaths before striding up to the dark house. His heart was thumping in his chest as he stepped up the creaky steps and onto the porch. His hand trembled as he brought it up to the wooden door and gripped the round, iron handle. The harsh crack of metal on polished hardwood echoed around him as he knocked.
Stillness followed, and then, from somewhere in the house: uproarious laughter. And not scary Halloween laughter, but the sound of genuine fun. Easton’s first thought was surprise that big bad Cravitz actually had friends…unless he was hearing the TV, or something. And then he wondered if his knock had been heard. If not, maybe that was a sign to go. He’d tried, and that counted.
Easton turned on his heels and walked to the stairs - and then, there was a boom so loud it made him jump. He froze. That was the sound of a door opening, wasn’t it…
“Leaving so soon?” rasped a deep voice.
Easton slowly turned, and there he was. Stanley Cravitz. The man was short and broad, with a big belly and bald head. There was a sneer on his face and a smoldering cigar in his hand. He coughed out a chuckle. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“Sorry to bother you…” Easton stammered out.
Cravitz scowled. “Not like you’re the first. You’re here to bother me for free candy, I assume.” He elongated the word ‘candy’ as if it were profanity.
“No!” Easton said, quickly, and then he turned bright red. “Well, yeah…”
Cravitz took a step back. “I got some, I just have to go get it. Already put it away because I thought you brats were done for the night.” He took a drag off his cigar and blasted smoke into the air. “Come inside and give me a moment.”
Easton hesitated, but the temptation of being able to tell everyone what Old Man Cravitz’s house was like was too great. Had anyone EVER been inside of it? He took two cautious steps and then crossed the threshold, flinching as the door shut behind him. In the excitement, he failed to notice Cravitz lock the door behind him.
