It’s almost Halloween. In fact, it could well be Halloween for three days.
Yes, little ghosts and goblins and skywalkers could be coming on your porch Saturday, Sunday and – for the “actual” day – Monday.
That’s a lot of candy to dole out, and I hope you’ve laid in a good stock of it.
Back in the days when I might have a trick-or-treater – or in rare cases, 60 trick-or-treaters – I made a point of buying candy that I’d want to eat myself. That’s sort of limited to Butterfingers. Or Fifth Avenue bars. But, it is very difficult to find Fifth Avenue bars anywhere. But Butterfingers are a close second.
I know I’ve written about this particular Halloween before, but it is a story that bears repeating.
I moved into my fab flat in San Francisco on October 31, in whatever year it was. It certainly did not cross my mind that it happened to be Halloween. I was busy moving and arranging and racing around inside the big space with nine rooms.
I’d never thought to check to see if the doorbell worked. Well, I found out it certainly did. And it was a doozy. A very loud buzz that was actually startling to the point of being scary.
It began to blast through the house around dark. I jumped and hastened to the door. Who could it be?
Imagine my surprise and, yes, fear, to look out and see about 15 neighborhood kids on my porch. “Trick or treat!” they shouted. They were holding up big brown grocery bags. I don’t recall that a single one was wearing a costume of any sort.
I had no candy. My mind went dizzy until my eyes lighted on a huge jug of change my roommate had in the corner of the living room. Aha!
I made the quick decision to put some change in each bag.
“Thank you, Miss Lady,” the kids said.
Thus began my busiest Halloween ever. Word spread fast. “The new lady is giving away money!” That dang doorbell resounded throughout the night. I eventually turned out all the lights and went to bed. Did it stop? Well, no. That doorbell actually startled me awake at 4 o’clock in the morning! Heaven knows what kind of monster I may have seen out on the porch if I’d had the courage to look. I did not.
After that, I made sure to mark Halloween on my calendar and buy some candy. Any old candy would do; I knew there would be none left for me at the end of the night.
Thank heavens, I haven’t had a trick-or-treater in years and years. The only possibilities from past years are all in college or holding down jobs now. But, they do have children. I am hoping they do not decide to return to their old neighborhood, and ring my bell.
Wait. I do not have a doorbell. And, I do not know what I might hand out to the little goblins. No apples. No big jar of spare change. I guess I’ll just hope for the best, which would be no visitors at all.
At least, I don’t live in Bacova. It is our only neighborhood where houses are close together, as in a suburb. In the past, entire busloads of kids and parents from West Virginia used to arrive and lay waste to the town like a bunch of candy vandals.
Oh, Halloween. You’ve just got to love it!
This page is available to subscribers. Click here to sign in or get access.