Maddie:
I waited with the other parents at the curb. An occasional car swiveled past on slippery streets, washing us in brief splashes of light, almost like a freeze-action strobe. Each time, my eyes would readjust to the darkness and I would search the near horizon of stair, porch and open door until I recognized the small shape of my son, outlined in the dim silver moonlight, walking back to me.
Flashlight in hand, I carved the darkness, forged the path from one house to the next. Along the way I lost count of the houses, couldn’t remember if we had visited six or sixteen or sixty, my toes numb from the cold, frost curling around my face with each breath. Meanwhile, Tucker couldn’t hold in his excitement. He practiced his rap imitation of “trick or treat,” repeated it over and over as we tramped through the slushy snow, until his words echoed in my ears.
He stood fifty yards away now. Bathed in the yellow light of an open door.
Samwise pressed against me as if he wanted to keep me warm, staring after Tucker with longing eyes. The dog would yip whenever my son went inside a house, would pull at the leash each time the boy dipped out of sight.
“Good boy,” I said, leaning down to stroke Samwise on the head.
The snow eddied around us in mesmerizing patterns, sticking to my eyelashes and my hood. Strange weather. I couldn’t remember the last time it had snowed this early in the mountains.
Maybe they caused it, those shape-shifting chupacabras.
I glanced quickly at the woman standing beside me, wondering for a second if I had accidentally spoken out loud. The woman just stared straight ahead, arms bundled in a small blanket.
Okay, maybe they did cause the snow. But why?
The door opened then, revealing a cavern of light and bowls of candy that lured the children closer. Black papier-maché cats and a row of glowing pumpkins and cutout ghosts that stuck to the windows. A faery tale come to life.
All the children disappeared inside the tiny cottage with green shutters and picket fence. Samwise tugged at the leash, whining, straining for the house—
They could be inside, they could want my boy.
I suddenly dropped the leash, let the dog gallop up the path. I trotted behind him, remembering images of that dead body in the woods, the two strange puncture wounds in the neck, looking like all the life had been mysteriously drained out. My hood flopped down and my left foot slid as I ran, but Samwise was already up the stairs, barreling across the small porch, heading for the open door.
Let Tucker be okay, let all this be my imagination, I can handle that, I just can’t have anything happen to him, he’s all I have left—
Samwise was through the door now, his deep bark sounding inside the house.
A middle-aged woman appeared in the rectangle of yellow light, a startled look on her face. I was taking the stairs two at a time, hoping I didn’t fall. A chorus of laughter, of children, all the notes high and clear and happy, met me at the door.
Inside, Samwise was chasing the children around the living room, bounding and laughing with them, big smile on his face, probably because he had found his boy.
My boy. He was leading the pack, around and around, giggling and screaming on a Halloween sugar high, all of them trying to escape from the “wolf” that had just burst through the front door. The little girls were holding their bags of candy high, as if these were the most precious things in the world and obviously what the dog was after.
I sagged against the door frame, ashamed and relieved.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
The homeowner tried to smile while watching the dog, making sure he didn’t break the chintz porcelain that decorated every table and shelf.
“Come, Samwise,” I said, holding out my hand. The dog padded over to me reluctantly. “I’m sorry, really,” I repeated, even though I wasn’t.
Tucker was safe and that was all I really cared about.
“New game plan,” I said as I clutched Tucker’s hand. We were blocks away from the house where I had embarrassed myself. We were now separated from that last group of skeletons, Harry Potters and princesses, and trudged along on our own path. I couldn’t help glancing behind us from time to time, wondering if someone was following us. But I never saw anyone.
Meanwhile, heat seemed to radiate down from the sky, just enough to keep me from shivering. I noted that I now wore my jacket open and the hood down. Part of me kept thinking about Ash, standing on the porch, demanding a promise.
Surely, Kate was right. He had just wanted to make sure we were safe.
I wished I knew more about him, more about the creatures in the woods.