Gremlins and masks, everywhere John looks; children, and even some adults, running around in the faces of nightmare. Some are recognizable from his memories, and others seemingly wholly fantastic.
“Arthur,” he growls, trying not to sound unsettled by something as foolish as children in costumes—but masks, he’s had far too much experience to take such things lightly—“Arthur, what the hell is going on?”
“It’s Halloween, John.” He doesn’t need John’s warning to tell that a pack of children is approaching. Their giggling and gossiping and shouting to each other would be enough to warn a dead man.
Read more: Malevoween Day 31: HAPPY HALLOWEEN“Trick or treat!” they carol in their high-pitched voices. As if it were the words to some ritual, Arthur holds the bowl full of wrapped candies out to them. They plunge little hands in to grab as many as they can, stuff them into their sacks and then run away laughing.
In their wake, Arthur laughs softly to himself. John can feel how relaxed and contented he is.
“Is it a wise idea?” John grumbles. “Training these little ones to treat masks and monsters as toys?”
Arthur laughs again, and pulls a candy out of the bowl to unwrap it and stuff it in his own mouth. “No, no,” he says lightly around it. “It’s quite the opposite. You see, tonight is the night when all the spooks and monsters come out. So to be safe, humans hide among them wearing their own faces. It’s why people carve jack o’lanterns. The scary faces are supposed to ward off spirits. Back in England, we’d carve them from turnips. But I must admit pumpkins are more impressive.”
John thinks about all this. In the meantime more youngsters run to up ritually appeal for sweets, which Arthur dutifully doles out.
“I don’t think a decorative gourd is going to scare away spirits, Arthur,” John scoffs when the children leave. “And you know as well as I do that monsters aren’t restricted by calendar dates.”
“Yes, I know.” Arthur has no business sounding that serene about ghosts and monsters, considering their history. “But it’s fun, John. This is how humans cope. We invent rules and games that we imagine the universe might play by, and tell ourselves we’re safe so long as we abide by them. And what’s the harm? We’re not in any more danger, and we feel better about it.”
“More are coming,” John interrupts him. And, because he knows Arthur will want to know, he adds, “A very small child with a mane of bouncing, curly hair, pink and blue fairy wings and absolutely enormous brown eyes is coming up to us, with her parents following behind. She’s looking at us, Arthur, clearly too shy to even say the words.”
Within their shared chest, he feels Arthur’s heart melt.
“Trick or treat,” her father laughingly says for her.
Arthur holds up the bowl with a grin that John can feel radiating from him. “Well, since you said it, I’m afraid you’ll have to take some along with her.”
“The man is picking out a candy,” John reports over the crinkling of the paper wrapping. “He’s popped it in his mouth while his tiny daughter does her best to raid the bowl with tiny hands.” Arthur lowers it for her a bit so that she can mob it—not shy about this—and when she’s done, she retreats behind her father’s legs.
“She was very cute,” John grudgingly admits as the family makes their way back to the street. They look happy; the little girl is holding her mother’s hand and he can hear their chatter about her luck at finding her favorite sweets. He sighs. “I…suppose I can see the appeal.”
“I thought it might catch on for you,” Arthur says. John can hear his smile.
Then movement down the street catches his attention. “Here come more. There are three. A witch, a clown and…oh, Arthur, the little boy is a scarecrow. He has straw sticking out of his collar and little circles of red painted on his cheeks!”
Arthur doubles over the bowl, laughing.