By ROD WALTON Staff Writer on Nov 2, 2012, at 1:16 PM Updated on 11/02 at 7:51 PM
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This recent Halloween was scarier in more ways than one.
Maybe it’s small government in action but the streets around our home seemed darker than ever, the lamps few and far between. We didn’t prepare with flashlights or glow sticks as other families had. My wife and I also showed the poor sense to wear black while we were out – not Halloween costume black, but just drab, business-class black.
Anyway, the neighborhood walk was to accompany our youngest and his buddy as they traveled trick or treating from door to intermittent door. And I do mean intermittent, because it’s amazing how many houses shutter down like it's superstorm Sandy when the evil holiday comes around. Maybe it’s religious resistance, but I suspect it’s more often just a lack of hospitality.
The boy and his buddy disguised themselves as a football player and box of crayons, respectively, and hit those doors a’running. They may be seventh graders but they still love their candy.
It was a weird, dark walk. First, there was the lack of well-lit pathways and dearth of lighted porches. Secondly, there was this black kitten that suddenly decided to join us late in the journey, crossing our path multiple times. I decided to keep count on those crossings, trying to figure if a curse had a math component like two negatives equal a positive or something like that. Oh well, it was Halloween and the mind wandered.
My son and friend finally got their fill of goodies and rushed back home to lay it all out on the floor and begin what they called “negotiations.” You know, “I’ll trade you these Butterfingers for those Milk Duds” and so forth.
It was fun and felt kind of final, too. Only two or three years ago, we joined all four kids and friends walking up and down the blocks, trick or treating til the jack-o'-lantern burned dim. The wife and I spent part of this week’s journey recalling costumes and candy negotiations past and marveling that it was all slowing to an end.
Man and woman looked at this closure in different ways. She mourns everything changing, while I think of it as one chapter leading to another. I feel good that we're giving it our all – whether it’s Halloween or sporting events and mission trips – so I don’t look back in regret. Not too much, anyway.
Still, it’ll be a little sad if next year doesn’t include some sort of door-to-door parade in pursuit of Snickers and Reese’s Cups. I miss Mrs. Cook doing her cackle at Kane Elementary, and some of you will know what I mean by that. Surely my sweetheart and sweet tooth agree on this.
Maybe dad can negotiate for one more candy fest. Maybe the black cat will grow up and find someone else to follow. Maybe, baby, let’s do Halloween just one more time.
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