In Laymon's Terms

“How about taking off the mask?” she said.

He shook his head.

“Do we know you?” Jimmy asked.

Another shrug.

“You wanta come along trick or treating with us?” Peggy Pan asked.

He nodded. Yes.

Donna shook her head. No. “Not unless we know who you are.” Her voice no longer sounded quite so calm or friendly. She was speaking more loudly than before. And breathing hard.

She’s scared.

And she wasn’t the only one.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but you’ll either have to let us see who you are or leave. Okay? We’ve got little kids here, and...and we don’t know who you are.”

“He’s Killer Joe,” Nick explained.

“We know,” Jimmy said.

“But he’s all by himself,” Peggy Pan said. “He shouldn’t have to go trick or treating all by himself.” She stepped right up to him and took hold of a sleeve of his raincoat and tilted her head back.

“Peggy,” Donna said. “Get away from him. Right now.”

“No!”

Killer Joe shrugged, then gently pulled his arm out of Peggy’s grip and turned around and began to walk away very slowly, his head down.

And I suddenly figured this was some poor kid—a big and possibly somewhat kid, granted—but a kid nevertheless without any friends, trying his best to have fun on Halloween night, and now he was being shunned by us.

I actually got a tight feeling in my throat.

Peggy Pan, sounding desolate, called out, “Bye, Killer Joe!”

Still walking away, head still down, he raised a hand to acknowledge the girl’s farewell.

“Come on back!” Donna called.

He stopped walking. His head lifted. Slowly, he turned around and pointed to himself with a gloved hand.

“Yeah, you,” Donna said. “It’s all right. You can come with us. But we are almost done for the night.”

Killer Joe came back, a certain spring in his walk.

Though he never removed his strange and rather disturbing bandanna mask and never told us who he was, he stayed with us that night as we went on from house to house, trick or treating.

Before his arrival, we’d been on the verge of quitting and going home. But even though he rarely spoke—mostly just a gruff “Trick or treat” when people answered their doors—he was so strange and friendly and perky, we just couldn’t seem to quit.

This had been going on for a while and I was about to follow the bunch toward another house when Donna called softly, “Matt?”

I turned around and went back to her.

She took hold of my forearm. In a quiet voice, she said, “What do you think of this guy?”

“He’s having a great time.”

“Do you trust him?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t,” Donna said. “I mean, he could be anyone. I think it’s very weird he wouldn’t take off his mask. I’m afraid he might be up to something.”

“Why’d you let him come with us?”

She shrugged. “Guess I felt sorry for him. Anyway, he’s probably fine. But how about helping me keep an eye on him, okay? I mean, he might be after the girls or something. You just never really know.”

“I’ll watch him,” I promised.

“Thanks.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “Not that we’d be able to do anything much about it if he does try something.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I know one thing, I won’t let him do anything to Peggy. Or you.”

She smiled and squeezed my arm again. “Sure. We’ll let him have Alice and Olive.”

“But we’ll encourage him to take Nick.”

Donna laughed. “You’re terrible.”

“So are you,” I said.

After that, I joined up with the rest of them and kept a close eye on Killer Joe as we hurried from door to door.

Sometimes, he touched us. He gave us friendly pats. But nothing more than what a buddy might do. I started to think of him as a buddy, but warned myself to stay cautious.

Finally, Donna called us all over to her. She said, “It’s really getting late, now. I think we’d better call it quits for the night.”

Sighs, moans.

“Just one more house!” the girls pleaded. “Please, please, just one more house? Pretty please?”

“Well,” said Donna. “Just one more.”

Olive and Alice went, “Yayyyyy!”

Killer Joe bobbed his masked head and clapped his hands, his gloves making heavy whopping sounds.

We all took off for our final house of the night. It was a two-story brick house. Its porch light was off, but one of the upstairs windows glowed brightly.

All of us gathered on the porch except Donna, who waited at the foot of the stairs as she often did.

Peggy Pan rang the doorbell. Olive and Alice stood beside her, and the rest of us stood behind them. I was between Mummy Jimmy and Killer Joe. Nobody came to the door.

Peggy jabbed the button a few more times.

“Guess nobody’s home,” I said.

“Somebody has to be!” said Peggy. “This is the last house. Somebody has to be home.”

Olive and Alice started shouting, “Trick or treat! Trick or treat! Open the door! Trick or treat!”

Killer Joe stood there in silence. He seemed to be swaying slightly as if enjoying some music inside his head.

“Maybe we’d better give it up,” Jimmy said.

“No!” Peggy jabbed the doorbell some more.