Autumn Harvest

Hilda flew by the yellow moon. Stars twinkled in the heavens. She cackled as she flew overhead. The town below went about their Halloween celebrations. Costumed children went from house to house, spouting their mantra,

“Trick or Treat.” Pumpkin pails swayed as tiny hands carried them. A man walked amongst the children that night. He wore denim blue jeans and black boots. Black gloves gripped a pumpkin pail and a flashlight. He walked at a quick pace. His shoulders were broad and his chest was wide. He stood six foot three and wore a skeleton mask. He came across a princess and a clown. They looked up and waited for the man to say anything. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two suckers, caramel apple flavored.

“Thank you, mister,” the princess said.

“Yeah,” the clown added. “Thanks, mister.” His breathing grew shallower and louder under his grinning skull mask. The princess and clown waved as they hurried over to the next house.

He continued his own sinister mission. He happened upon the Wallace house. Cory Kramer came out of his house. He had a permanent sneer and dirty cheeks. He was the meanest little bastard at Autumn Harvest Elementary School. He was ten years old but had already had his first sip of beer and smoked his first cigarette. Cory wore the same costume he had worn the last three Halloween. He wore that same old hobo costume. He wore a ratty jacket and blue jeans with patches on the knees. He carried a hobo’s pack and a pillow case. He smiled as he set out on his journey.

He came across the princess and the clown and shoved them down. He stole their caramel apple suckers and ran off like a giant rat. He squatted near some giant bushes, unwrapped one of the caramel apple suckers, and slid it in his mouth. He sucked it as the flavor danced on his tongue. He fell over and landed on his face. The stick caught in his throat and he was dead before hitting the ground. Down swooped the witch. She snatched the boy up and flew him to a secluded cabin in the deep dark woods. She placed him on the ground and in walked the man in the skull mask. Hilda handed him the axe and he chopped the boy into little pieces. Meanwhile Hilda put on a pot of hot water to boil. She hummed and chuckled to herself as she cut up carrots, onions, and potatoes. She threw the food in the pot; the man in the skull mask dropped the meat in the pot. “You’ve done fine work,” Hilda said. “Thank you, Nathaniel.” He nodded.

Back at the Kramer residence Jim Kramer bellowed,

“Ruth I’m going out for a pack of cigarettes.”

“Okay Jim,” she said. Her voice was tinged with weariness. She let out a sigh as she fell back into the sofa. She returned back to the fictional world of her smutty romance novel. She had found it in the bargain bin at Dollar Hut. She thumbed through the paperback and her focus was entirely on the words on the page. Her brown roots showed. It was a trashy look but she heard that all the time. It was never to her face, just whispers behind her back. Supermarkets and whenever she would pick her kid up from school there would be sideway glances and snickering. The sound of the pages silently rushing as she turned them was her therapy.

The ceiling fan barely turned overhead; she did not like how much it rattled. When it was on it’s fast setting she feared it would come flying off the ceiling and hit her, or God forbid Jim or Cory. Jim or Cory would usually just laugh it off.

“You’re usually so fucking paranoid,” Jim would grunt. Cory would often chime in as well.

“Yeah Mom,” he’d say with a sneer. “I’ll bet you have a tin foil hat.” She hated to admit it but her son was an asshole, much like his father.

She often wondered if she hated her son. He was after all a trouble maker. He was always getting into fights. He was known to bully other kids at school. He was always picking on somebody or picking a fight with another kid. He was only ten but already he was so mouthy and belligerent. He was constantly talking back both at home and to teachers. Well at home he only talked back to Jim once which resulted in a spanking so bad that the boy could not physically sit down for twenty-four hours. After that, on account of his aching bottom whenever Cory would mouth off to a teacher or to Ruth, Jim would down play it.

“Boys will be boys,” he would say. She would roll her tongue and roll her eyes. One time her nails dug right in to the arm of the couch. There was a knock on the door. She grabbed the bowl of candy and headed to the front door. She opened the door and found two boys standing there. They were Kyle Winters, age 10 and Billy Summers, also age 10.

“Trick or treat,” Kyle said.

“Yeah,” Billy said. “Trick or treat.” She dropped the candy into each boys’ bag. She noticed Kyle’s sixteen-year-old sister, Jenny stood back aways.

“Why don’t you give this to your sister,” Ruth whispered as she handed an extra piece of candy to Kyle. He reluctantly took it and eyed it as if it were alien poop. He walked over to Jenny and handed her the candy.

Cory’s mom wanted me to give you this. Jenny’s expression softened.

“That was so nice of her.” Jenny said.

“Yeah. Much nicer than Cory,” Billy said. “He’s a jerk.”