Something Wicked... (Rox Delaney)

One more day.  Just one more day before All Hallows Eve, when the veil between this world and the spririt world thins, and communication between the two becomes easier.

Or at least that's what some believe.  It's up to you to decide if you do.

There have been a few scary Halloween nights for me.  When I was very young and lived in the big, bad city (before moving to the little bad small town, then to the big bad middle of nowhere and now back to that big bad city), my older neighbors often took me trick or treating.  One year, as we stood on the corner waiting for a car to drive by so we could cross the street, that car and another car collided.  I screamed.  It was nothing more than a fender bender, but the sound of the crash and my blood curdling scream brought friends and neighbors outside.  At that point, trick or treating ended for me until the next year.

When I was around six or seven years old, I dressed as a Pilgrim girl, in long gray dress, white Pilgrim hat and round collar, all made by my mother, and a blonde braided wig.  Those same neighbors as above had a grandmother who had given them a pair of real, authentic wooden shoes, which were loaned to me for the evening.  Believe me, they were not comfy, but I wore them anyway, determined to be as real as I could be.  The block behind us ended in a circle drive/dead end, thanks to U.S. 54.  As we approached one of the houses near the end, a horrible witch came around the corner.  Scared beyond sanity, I began screaming and ran for home.  When I arrived, I sobbed to my dad what had happened...and then realized that I'd lost my hat and wig during my race for safety.  I cried even harder.  When I finally stopped, my dad walked me back, finally convinced me that the witch wasn't real, and we found my hat and wig.  Once again, trick or treating was over for me until the next year.

Fast forward to small town and high school.  No more costumes.  By eighth grade, we'd even given up painting our faces and going door to door.  But what fun to steal pumpkins and toss them in the middle of Main Street!  Braver souls moved the picnic tables from the park to the streets, and burning hay bales were scattered in the street, making driving a tad difficult. The local grocery store removed all egg cartons.  After Halloween our senior year, I distinctly remember how, when the heater was turned on, my best friend's car smelled of rotten eggs for months and months.  Tricks in town got so bad that mounted police from the city were sent for a few years to try to keep things under control.  One year, after looking for an outhouse to tip over, a group of us ran across the railroad tracks at the edge of town, hoping we wouldn't get caught, and one of the guys and I fell in what's known as "Devil's Hole."  Rumor had it that the six feet deep hole was the mouth of a tunnel than ran underneath the town.  Well, maybe long, long ago it did.  All I know is that climbing out was not for sissies.

Fast forward to the present.  My five grandkids and their parents (and an aunt or two) enjoy trick or treating together---all in costume.  I'm sure the people handing out candy aren't too sure what to think of the mob at their door.  No, the parents don't ask for candy. ;)

Me?  I stay home, turn down the lights, and listen carefully for the whispers of those who have passed on to the next world.  [Have I mentioned that I've had two paranormal experiences?]  Then I turn on the TV, grab a DVD or two, and find something fun to watch.  This year I've decided on Hocus Pocus, followed by Practical Magic.  I know I'm in for a treat. ;)