“Oh my goodness, look at you two! Well hello, Mr. Scary Alien and hello, Mr. Scary Werewolf! I think you both need a treat, don’t you?”
“All right, Mum, don’t overdo it,” said Jake as we rummaged around in the candy bowl, each taking a handful for our booty bags before we moved on.
Hannah and Mr. Jenkins’s house was dark, but Jake still insisted on ringing their doorbell over and over until I told him to quit it.
My house was next and Dad answered. He’d only just got home from work and he pretended he didn’t know who we were.
“Good outfit there, boy!” he said to Jake, who was wearing an all-in-one green jumpsuit with a padded tail and a white, rubber alien mask with two black slits for eyes.
“And who is this monster? It looks like you need a decent haircut!” he said to me. I was wearing normal clothes but hairy gloves with claws and a werewolf mask that went over my head. My face was sweating and I tried not to laugh.
Mr. Charles was next. He answered the door and stumbled backward when he saw us.
“Trick or treat!”
“Blimey, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” he said, resting his hand on the wall for support. “Is it that day already? Gawd. Hang on a minute … And I don’t want any of your tricks on my garden …”
Jake and I giggled as he went off to try and find something to give us. He didn’t need to worry about us doing a trick. We didn’t have anything with us; no one ever chose “trick” instead of “treat.” He came back with two apples.
“Is that it?” said Jake and I elbowed him.
“You’re lucky you’re not getting a clip to the ear to go with it, lad!” said Mr. Charles, and he slammed the door as we ran down the path laughing.
It was Penny and Gordon’s house next. The best-decorated house in the street. Garlands of black-and-white paper spiders were strung across the window, with webs in each corner that lit up and twinkled. Three beautifully carved pumpkins glowed orange on the step. Mum had bought a pumpkin carving kit from Penny’s Harrington’s Household Solutions catalog, but ours didn’t look anything like these. I glanced back at our house and saw her outline in the window keeping an eye on us.
“Trick or treat!” we yelled as we rang the doorbell of number one.
The door swung open and a faceless figure in a long, black cloak appeared. We both gasped.
“Wooooooohhhh,” it said as it waved its arms at us, stepping outside as we took a step back.
“Gordon? Gordon!” yelled Penny, from the kitchen. “Come and help me with these!”
Gordon ignored her and lifted up the shroud, his face rosy as he laughed.
“Ah, who do we have here then? A scary werewolf and an alien!”
He bent forward to take a proper look, but Penny appeared, all elbows, and barged him out of the way. She was wearing a black-and-white polka dot dress with a tiny silver witch’s hat placed at an angle on her bouffant hairstyle. She was carrying a large tray in the shape of a bat that was filled with pumpkin cookies, candy apples, and muffins decorated with miniature gravestones. The smell was amazing.
“Wow, did you make these, Penny?” I said, giving our identities away.
“Of course, Matthew. Now, you can only take one each. I’ve got to make sure I’ve got enough to go around.”
I grabbed a cookie and put it in my bag as Jake surveyed the tray.
“Have you got any candy?”
Penny stood upright.
“No, I don’t, young man. And if you want any of that processed rubbish I suggest you try another house.”
We both jumped as the door banged shut.
Jake walked off, his alien tail dragging behind him. He could have perhaps said it better, but I knew he hadn’t meant any harm. His allergies meant he couldn’t eat just anything, and if it was in a packet, his mum could check the label. I joined him on the front step of number three just as Melody opened the door. She was wearing a black cat outfit with little black whiskers painted on her cheeks and two triangular ears poking out of her hair.
“MIAOWWWWW!” she shouted and pounced like a cat, her hands splayed out toward us.
“Yeah, yeah, Melody,” said Jake as he shook his booty bag at her.
Melody huffed and then ducked behind the door, returning with an orange bucket full of brightly wrapped sweets.
“Miaow,” she said as I took some. The end of her nose was painted black, and when she saw me looking she wriggled it at me.
Jake took two giant handfuls.
“MIAOW!” she said and snatched the bucket back. She then pretended to lick her paw and clean her ear as she purred.
“Melody? You are so weird,” said Jake. She hissed at him and then shut the door.
“Well, that was a waste of time,” said Jake, looking in his bag. “I’ve barely got anything!”
We turned and slowly walked back to his house, but Jake stopped at the next gate.
“Our mums said not to bother Old Nina. Come on,” I said, continuing on, but Jake ran up the path and stood before the door of the Rectory. He lifted the heavy knocker and banged it three times.
“Jake!” I shouted. “What are you doing?”
I looked at our houses, but there was no outline of our mums anymore. They’d probably seen us making our way home. I quickly ran and joined him just as the large, black door slowly opened.
“Trick or treat,” said Jake, but he said it quietly this time. The old lady’s face was blank as she studied him.
“I said trick or treat!” He shook his bag vigorously.
Old Nina gave a little knowing nod and then went back inside, keeping the door ajar. Jake looked at me and gave me a thumbs-up as I stood staring, openmouthed. He started goofing around, doing a little dance on the step and wiggling his backside toward the house, and then the door suddenly opened again.
“You’d better come in,” she said and then she went back inside, this time leaving the door wide open.
We both looked at each other, and then Jake stepped up into the large, dark hallway, taking his alien mask off. I followed. It took a while for my eyes to adjust in the gloom. I was expecting to see cobwebs and peeling wallpaper, but although it was old-fashioned and dark, the place was clean and tidy. Old Nina had disappeared through a doorway at the end of the hallway, and we slowly edged in the same direction. We walked past the door to the living room and I peeked in. Beside a small gas fire was a wing-backed chair and on the windowsill was the orange lamp, glowing warmly. Jake elbowed me in the ribs and I jumped.
“Look! Who do you think that is?”
Along the wall was a collection of framed photographs, all of the same boy at different ages. In one he gave a toothless grin as he gripped the pole of a carousel horse, in another he studied a butterfly resting on the back of his hand—he looked about my age in that one. There was a photo of his first day at school, holding up a football trophy, wearing a Santa Claus hat with his eyes crossed, and one of him at a field day wearing a big gold medal around his neck. I took off my werewolf mask and studied the photo closest to me. In this one he was standing on a beach, his arms folded against his bare chest as the sand stretched out for miles around him. It must have been windy, as his sandy hair was sticking up in all directions, his nose splattered with freckles and his eyes half-shut as he grinned back at the camera.
“Who do you think he is?” said Jake, studying the photos. “Is he her son? There’re no pictures of him grown up. What happened to him?”
We both looked at each other, and I saw Jake’s throat gulp as we heard Old Nina clattering around in the kitchen.
“Come in here, you two!”
Carrying on along the hall, we stopped in the kitchen doorway. In the corner was a black range cooker, and crouching down, smoke swirling around her, was Old Nina. Wearing some gray oven mitts, she reached down and lifted out a large tray of cakes, which she placed on a mat on the table.
“Ah, there you are!” she said. Taking off her oven mitts, she put her head to one side and stared at Jake.
“Do you know, I think you’ll be just the right size. Just the right size indeed.”