Blood Games

    ‘But I’m a very friendly ghost,’ Helen explained, and dropped a couple of Three Musketeer bars into Heather’s bag.

    The girl said, ‘Thank you very much.’

    ‘You’re a very pretty kitty,’ Helen said as she gave treats to the kitten.

    ‘Meeeeooooow. ’

    Abilene grinned. ‘They’re really cute kids.’

    ‘I’m Gizmo,’ said the gremlin.

    ‘Here you go, Gizmo.’

    The candy bars no sooner hit the bottom of Gizmo’s bag than all three girls rushed on down the sidewalk.

    ‘Don’t run,’ the mother called. Then, ‘Thanks a lot. Happy Halloween.’

    ‘You, too,’ Finley said.

    The mother hurried after the girls. ‘Wait,’ she called. ‘Forget that place.’ Over her shoulder, she said, ‘I told them, only houses with lighted porches or pumpkins.’

    The girls were running toward a dark porch.

    ‘You heard me,’ she called.

    ‘Oh, Mom.’

    ‘Probably no one’s home, anyway,’ Finley said.

    The mother shrugged.

    The kids went ahead and climbed the porch. The kitten rang the doorbell.

    ‘Should we start back?’ Vivian asked.

    ‘Might as well,’ Helen said. ‘We’re almost out of candy.’

    They walked toward the waiting mother. She nodded a greeting, then returned her attention to the girls.

    Light spilled onto the porch as the door swung open.

    A tall, thin man loomed over the girls.

    In unison, they chanted, ‘Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!’

    ‘Scat!’ the man snapped. ‘Get outa here, ya little snots!’ He slammed the door. It crashed shut with such a clap that all three girls jumped.

    Even Abilene flinched. ‘Jesus!’ she gasped.

    The girls ran. At the sidewalk, Heather wrapped her sheeted arms around her mother’s waist. The kitten was crying, wiping her eyes with small, furry paws. ‘I wanna go home,' whined Gizmo.

    ‘I wanna kill the son of a bitch,’ Cora muttered.

    ‘You and me both,’ Abilene said. ‘Doing that to little kids.’

    ‘Let’s have a word with him,’ Vivian said. She strode across the lawn, heading for the porch, her black gown flapping in the wind. Then Cora was at her side. Finley rushed after them. Helen and Abilene followed.

    Glancing back, Abilene saw the mother hurrying away down the sidewalk, the three girls clustered close around her.

    The dirty bastard, she thought. Her throat felt tight.

    The little kids had been out having a wonderful time. It had been ruined, now. They’d been scared half to death. For the rest of their lives, they would probably always remember tonight and the horrible man who’d yelled at them. Halloween would never be quite the same for them. It would always be tainted.

    Thanks to one thoughtless, selfish bastard.

    She trotted up the porch stairs as Vivian jabbed the doorbell button. She heard the bell jangling inside the house. Again and again.

    The door swung open.

    The man standing in the lighted foyer was not an old grouch. He was young, probably no older than thirty. He looked perfectly normal in his plaid shirt and jeans, his short hair neatly combed. But his eyes were narrow, his lips twisted with a sneer.

    ‘What the hell do you want?’

    ‘What the hell is the matter with you?’ Vivian demanded. ‘We saw what you did to those little kids. There’s no excuse for that kind of behavior.’

    ‘It’s Halloween, for Godsake,’ Cora said.

    ‘They were just trying to have fun,’ Abilene said.

    ‘Shouldn’t have rung my bell, should they?’

    ‘If you don’t like it, you shouldn’t have opened the door,’ Abilene told him. ‘Why’d you have to scare them like that!’

    ‘It was really shitty,’ Finley said.

    ‘Awwww, I’m so sorry.’

    ‘You should be,’ Helen said.

    Leaning forward, he raised his upper lip high enough to bare his gums. He turned his head slowly as if inspecting a group of repulsive but somewhat amusing lepers. ‘Get out of here. Fuck off.’

    With that, he slammed the door.

    At a twenty-four hour convenience store several blocks away, they bought a dozen eggs, a can of shaving cream, and a pair of rubber dish-washing gloves. As the clerk loaded the items into a paper bag, Cora helped herself to a couple of free matchbooks.

***

    On their way back to the man’s house, they found a pile of dog waste in the grass beside a tree.

    ‘Allow me,’ Finley said.

    Cora emptied the bag. Finley put on the rubber gloves, picked up the rank, gooey pile, and dropped it into the bag. She tossed the gloves in after it.

    They arrived at the house.

    Its porch was still dark, but faint light glowed through the living room curtains.

    Cora took the bag from Finley. Helen, Vivian, Finley and Abilene crouched down beyond a corner of the porch. From there, they watched Cora through slats in the railing.

    Abilene trembled. She gritted her teeth to stop her chin from shaking as Cora climbed the stairs.

    Crazy, she thought. This guy might be dangerous.

    But he’d asked for it. And he’s gonna get it.

    Cora slid the welcome mat out of the way. She placed the bag just in front of the door. Squatting, she struck a match. She touched its flame to the crumpled paper. As fire crawled over the bag, she sprang up, poked the doorbell a couple of times, and rushed down the stairs.