Tricks and Treats
It seems to surprise people when I tell them that Halloween is my favorite holiday. I'm not sure what it is in my persona that projects "this is a Christmas guy" but the accuracy falls short. Don't get me wrong, I like a good Christmas tree and string of lights as much as the next person, but Halloween is where it's at for me. The costumes, the decorations, the colors, the folklore, the Jack-o-Lanterns, the chill in the air, the rustic fall leaves, pumpkin spice and apple cinnamon everything, and the way that this time of year makes magic feel like it's ever so possible. There's no pressure to buy presents for friends and loved ones. There's no big family gatherings to plan. There's no expectations about how you're supposed to feel or act. It's very much a personal experience in how you approach it, and I love that about Halloween.
I grew up in a law enforcement family. My mom was a dispatcher for the city and county when I was a kid, and my dad was chief of police for our little town. As such, they hated Halloween. They were stuck dealing with the negative aspects that seem to spring up with the holiday like vandalism, theft, destructive pranks, drunken parties, and animal abuse. It always made me sad that they couldn't see beyond those issues and share in my excitement, but I certainly understood where they were coming from. People aren't always their best, and something about Halloween seems to make that even more "excusable." (The Devil made me do it!) I'm not sure how my love of the holiday survived growing up with that bias, but somehow the spirit of the season always finds me.
Whatever your plans are for All Hallow's Eve (or if you're partying the weekend away before since Oct 31 is on a Wednesday), I wish you a Safe and Happy Halloween! Enjoy the spooky fun and may you find more treats than tricks, my little monsters!
And now for something completely different, a Halloween treat for you...
Goblin Games
By C. Robert Jones
Dax sneered at the 10-year-old boy. The kid's ridiculous painted-on black mustache was streaked and halfway gone. The little devil horns on his hood were drooping atop his head. The internal glow of his pitchfork was flickering out. Bits of crunched up leaves clung to his red union suit after the tumble they took through the yard. But most delightful of all was the smell of fear that the little boy was putting off. This kid was still a believer. He recognized now that Dax wasn't just some painted up little punk beating on doors for candy. Oh no, Dax was the real deal, not just some hypothetical ghost or ghoul the insipid humans cracked jokes about; he was an honest-to-badness goblin, and he had business to attend to.
"Now that I have your attention..." Dax said with a wicked giggle.
The little boy stood up and held his plastic pitchfork pointed defensively at the grinning goblin. "Go away! I don't believe in you!" the boy shouted.
Dax staggered back and clutched at his chest with a horrible groan. "Oh! Oh, no! He said it!" Dax cried dramatically. "What a world! What a world!" The goblin spun about and collapsed on the leafy ground in a spasmatic fit. The boy watched the display with wide-eyed wonder. Dax stopped convulsing and laid there, still as a gravestone.
Billy stepped toward the fallen goblin cautiously. The creepy little man continued to lay unmoving where he fell. Billy stood over him, and like any curious boy, he poked the dead creature with his stick.
Dax sprang up with a wicked cackle. Billy let out a startled shout and toppled back to land on his pinned-on pointy tail.
Dax stood over the cowering child with a menacing grin. "I'm a goblin, not a fairy, my boy," the little monster declared with glee. "You'll not be getting rid of me that easy!" Dax giggled sadistically.
"What do you want?" Billy cried.
"Why, I want you to help me, of course!" the goblin replied with a glint in his red eyes.
Billy looked up at the green-skinned creature with a scowl. "And why would I help you, you creepy little bully?"
The goblin's fanged grin broadened in the glow of a distant street light. "Because, William Kenneth Guthrie, if you don't, I'll toss you in a sack and drag you back to my world," Dax warned. "No comfy bed. No tricky treats to eat. No warm lights to chase away the darkness. Just you, me, and potentially a cooking pot."
"My name is Billy," the little boy stated irritably.
"That may be the name you prefer, but that's not the name that will let me spirit you away," the goblin cackled as he danced a spritely jig. "Your dear mother broke the cardinal rule of All Hallow's Eve, my boy. Guess you should have taken out the trash when she asked you to do it the first time, aye, William?"
Billy crossed his arms and pouted. "Fine," he grumbled. "What do you need me to do?"
"Come with me," Dax requested. He offered the boy his stubby fingered hand. The boy took it reluctantly, but accepted the assistance in standing. The goblin grinned again and led the way through the yard and up to the old Victorian house at the end of the sidewalk. The beaten down dwelling looked abandoned. Several of the grand windows were cracked or broken. The paint was peeling. There weren't any lights on inside the house or over the weathered front porch. The only thing to suggest that somebody might still live there was a pair of grinning jack-o-lanterns glowing cheerfully on either side of the front steps.
The boy hesitated when he realized where they were. "Uh, what are we doing here? This is the old Sanderson house," Billy stated with a gulp. "They say Old Man Sanderson still haunts this place. The kids at school say there's all sorts of creepy lights and noises at night. Nobody who goes in there comes back out!"
"Sounds like my kind of party," Dax replied with a wink.
"You want me to go in there?" Billy yelped. "But Old Man Sanderson was a mean old cuss when he was alive! He handed out toothbrushes to trick-or-treaters! I hate to think what he'd be like as a ghost!"
Dax rolled his dimly glowing eyes and sighed. "Relax, kid. You don't have to go inside the house. I just need you to do one teensy favor for me and then you can leave."
"Oh," Billy said, wiping at his chilled nose with his sleeve. "What do you need me to do?"
Dax drummed the tips of his fingers together eagerly. "I need to get inside that house, my boy. Smash the pumpkins guarding the entry and your job is done. Easy as that."
"Why don't you just go through the backdoor?" Billy asked condescendingly.
"Because that's not how protective wards work!" Dax snapped back.
"But Momma told me smashing pumpkins is bad," Billy advised the cranky creature.
The little goblin growled in frustration. "And if I were a policeman or a priest, that might be an issue," Dax reminded him. "Pumpkins or stew pot, kid. It's not a hard choice." He looked the boy up and down appraisingly and cocked a meaningful eyebrow. "You dressed up as a devil, didn't you, kid? Play the part, for cryin' out loud. That's what Halloween is all about."
"I thought it was about candy," Billy suggested
"PUMPKINS!" the goblin howled, pointing impatiently at the steps.
"All right! All right!" the boy grumbled, sidestepping the livid little man and walking toward the porch. Billy climbed the steps and stared sadly at the first smiling jack-o-lantern. "I'm sorry, Momma, but if I don't do it, I'll never see you again." He wiped at his nose and frowned as he picked up the first pumpkin.
"Atta' boy, William," the goblin encouraged with a gleeful giggle. "Give it the ol' heave ho!"
Billy gave a little sigh of regret. He lowered the hefty gourd between his knees and slung it up and away from the porch. The candle blew out. The pumpkin hit the ground with a heavy thud. Shards of orange shell splattered across the yard. The air grew thicker with the smell of rotting vegetation.
The little goblin cheered. "Just one more, my boy, and I'll forget I ever heard your name!" Dax offered.
Billy considered the second pumpkin with a grim nod. He picked it up in his trembling arms and prepared to chuck it down the steps. A thought percolated in his mind that gave him pause. "Why do you need inside the house?" he asked the goblin.
"What do you care? We have a deal," Dax reminded him impatiently. "You get rid of the wards. I let you go free. The rest is none of your concern."
"It might be if you're going to do something bad," Billy reasoned. "What are you up to?"
"Just do your job!" the goblin yelled.
"No," the boy replied.
"Excuse me?" Dax growled indignantly. "Did you forget what I'll do to you if you don't do what I say?"
Billy smiled knowingly. "I'm holding a lit jack-o-lantern. You can't touch me. I can sit on this porch with it all night to keep us both safe if I have to. Momma might worry, but at least I'll make it home. If I understand the stories correctly, you have to be out of our world by sunrise or you're toast. Am I right?" he suggested cheerfully.
Dax ran his palm down his face in disgust. He sighed angrily as he stared up at the defiant child. "Fine," the goblin snarled. "I'm looking for a pair of shoes. I was told I'd find them inside this house."
"You're doing all of this for shoes?" the boy quipped.
"Not just any shoes," the goblin explained. "Magic shoes."
The boy gave him an incredulous look. "What, like ruby slippers?" he suggested with a chuckle.
The goblins eyes widened slightly. "No," he sputtered. "Of course not! Don't be ridiculous."
"Wait. They're real?" Billy asked excitedly.
"I didn't say that!" Dax cried.
"You little liar, they are real!" Billy stated with a broad grin. The smile faded and he considered the goblin apprehensively. "But what do you want ruby slippers for?"
The goblin threw up his arms and rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh. "Ugh. If you must know, there's an obnoxious do-gooder girl terrorizing my land," Dax explained. "She and her friends have already iced a powerful witch. Now she's gunning for every monster and minion she can find until the wizard shows her a way home! But, the rumor is, the wizard doesn't have anything to give her, and he's not going to tell her that until we are all very, very dead. If I can get those shoes to her, maybe I can save the monsters and get her out of our world before it's too late!"
"Wait a minute," Billy argued. "You want me to help you save monsters - like hide-in-the-closet, eat little kids monsters?"
Dax shrugged. "Most monsters don't actually eat people as a habit," the goblin admitted quietly.
"You threatened to eat me!" Billy reminded him.
"Technically, I threatened to stick you in a stew pot," Dax suggested noncommittally. "I never said you were going to be eaten. I just don't have room for a proper cage in my hut."
"Are you even evil?" Billy asked with a suspicious grin.
"Evil is harsh," Dax suggested with a wounded look. "Mischievous, opportunistic, occasionally self-serving, but not exactly evil. The only reason I can't get past the pumpkins is because I'm technically a spirit creature in this world. The little magic you people have left is ridiculously biased."
"So, wait a minute, you're kind of like a hero?" Billy asked in confusion.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, kid. Let's not get crazy," the goblin corrected him defensively. "I have a reputation to uphold. I got a job to do, end of story. Let's not go slapping labels on it, understand?"
"Uh, sure," Billy agreed with a smirk.
"Look, kid, the world needs monsters," Dax explained. "Without us, you humans start turning on each other to fill the balance between good and evil. I watched some of the reports on those magic mirrors you people seem to all have in your houses. You want to talk about evil? Us monsters got nothing compared to what you humans are willing to do to each other. I'm just here to make sure my world doesn't go the direction your world already has. You're kind of a cautionary tale to the rest of the realms."
Billy gave the little goblin a pensive frown. He considered the warm pumpkin in his hand as he gnawed thoughtfully on his lower lip.
"How about it, kid? Snuff that pumpkin and let me finish my mission?" the goblin suggested with a hopeful grin.
Billy shrugged uncertainly. "I guess," he said. "But I'm warning you, goblin, if this is a trick, I'm telling my mom on you."
Dax giggled sadistically again and did his little dance. "Heave ho, my boy!" he cheered. "The night's not getting any younger!"
Billy hurled the second pumpkin down the steps and watched it splatter across the front sidewalk. There was a sense of finality in the action that made his heart sink. A wisp of smoke marked the dying of the candlelight within the shattered gourd.
The goblin scampered across the lawn with another giggle and trotted up the steps. He stopped next to the wary boy and gave him a haphazard salute and a wink before disappearing through the loosely latched front door of the house. Billy waited anxiously on the front porch, anticipating police sirens and lights to pull up at any moment. Before long the little goblin trotted out to join him, stuffing a pair of garishly decorated women's flats in his satchel.
"You found them?" Billy asked the goblin unenthusiastically.
"Mission accomplished," Dax agreed, patting the satchel cheerfully. He considered the pensive young boy with a raised eyebrow. "I figured you'd be long gone by now, William. Thinking about tagging along to my world?" he suggested with a dark grin. "You want to make sure my story is on the up and up or some such nonsense?"
"No, nothing like that," Billy said with a frown. "I'm just not sure what to do next. It's not every day you help a goblin complete a secret quest, you know? What do I do now?"
"Go home, drink some cocoa, curl up under a warm blanket," the goblin suggested pleasantly. Dax coughed and sputtered a bit and then snarled, "I mean, not that I care what you do. I'm not your keeper. Now get out of here, kid, before I change my mind and haul you off to my world too!"
Billy chuckled slightly and trotted down the stairs. He turned and waved up at the goblin as he said, "Good luck with that troublesome hero. I hope the shoes get her out of your hair and back home where she belongs."
Dax snorted and gave the boy a dark grin. "Yeah, me too," he replied.
Without so much as a thank you or a goodbye, the goblin reached into a pouch on his belt and tossed a handful of dust in the air. The little green man disappeared in a puff of smoke. Before he knew it, Billy was all alone in the yard of the Sanderson House.
Billy stared up at the old decrepit house and gulped. Glowing lights began to illuminate the windows from inside. Ghastly shrieks and howls rattled the windows. The loosely hanging front door swung wide open. Billy ran for his life down the front sidewalk and didn't stop until he hit the edge of the street. It wasn't until he stopped to catch his breath that he noticed that his plastic pitchfork was no longer in his hand. Instead he was carrying a brand new, unopened toothbrush.
A horrified chill ran down Billy's spine, but it was tempered by another realization. Instead of running home, Billy trotted down the sidewalk to where the goblin had first tackled him. He searched the ground carefully, but all he found was a single small lollipop shattered inside its wrapper. His trick-or-treat bag was gone.
A sadistic giggle met his ears and sent a shiver down his spine. "Happy Halloween, William!" a familiar voice cackled before fading away in a fit of maniacal laughter.
"That little monster stole my candy!" Billy cried. And he continued to cry all the way home.
