Two Halloween Tales Read online

  “Yes, ma’am,” Kade said.

  “Say kids, how would you like to take a picture with Halloween Santa?” the man dropped to one knee and looked eye level with Kade.

  “Halloween Santa?” Kade said.

  “Yes. Only special boys and girls get their picture taken with Halloween Santa. Halloween Rudolph is there with him,” the man said.

  “I think we need to go home,” Kade insisted.

  Keaton’s eyes went back and forth between the man and Kade.

  “Nonsense. It’ll only take a minute,” the man put a hand on the small of each one of their backs and pushed them forward. The old woman opened a door to the next room and the man forced the two boys in. The woman followed and closed the door behind her.

  A large walk-in freezer took up an entire wall on the opposite side of the room. Kade spun around and turned to leave, but the old woman stood guarding the door, holding a rolling pin menacingly in hand. The man still had control of Keaton, and pushed him in front of the freezer door.

  The man turned the bar handle a quarter turn down. A loud mechanical click sounded, and he opened the door.

  A frozen corpse wearing a Santa outfit sat in a chair inside the freezer. An icy Doberman Pinscher with deer antlers fastened to its head laid at Santa’s feet.

  Keaton started crying at the ghastly sight. The cold air and putrid smell made him gag. “Go ahead you two. Get in there, and I’ll take your picture,” the man said.

  “Don’t do it, Keaton!” Kade screamed.

  Keaton hit the floor face down, arms glued tight to his side. He flattened himself on the floor and resisted moving. He had pulled this stunt a time or two at home. His dad had to pick him up like a piece of wood, stick him under his arm, and carry him out. Keaton was much bigger than then and would be a lot harder to move.

  “Dagnabit, kid. Get your butt in there,” the man said, but Keaton completely ignored him. “You’re going in there one way or the other. So I guess it’s going to be the other.”

  The man bent down in front of Keaton to pick him up. The man’s backside pointed toward Kade. In a last act of desperation, Kade charged the man and pushed him in the rear with all his might.

  The man tripped over Keaton and stumbled head first into the freezer. Kade quickly closed the door and pulled the handle up a quarter turn. The mechanical click sounded again. This time it was locked.

  “You little monster! You open that door and let him out now,” the old woman screamed.

  Kade stood defiantly and ran toward the woman. The two struggled. Kade had the hand with the rolling pin by the wrist. The woman pulled at his collar with her other hand.

  Keaton wanted to help but was afraid to move.

  Kade fought diligently, but his young undeveloped muscles were no contest for hers. She managed to sling him down to the floor, and raised the rolling pin to end his resistance once and for all.

  Keaton reached into his Action Man homemade utility belt, unsnapped a pocket, and pulled out a cylinder shaped object.

  He pulled the cap off and sprayed the woman directly in the eyes.

  The old woman let out a scream and let the rolling pin drop from her hand. She was on her knees rubbing madly at her burning eyes. The irritating pepper spray fumes filled the air.

  Keaton helped Kade up from the floor. The two ran out the room and slammed the door behind them.

  Kade stopped as they ran past their trick-or-treat bags and picked them up. The caramel delights the old woman had just made were too tempting for him to leave. He scooped them up and put them in one of his bags.

  Kade led the way and burst through the front door knocking both jack-o-lanterns off the stools. They crashed to the porch, the candles still burning.

  The two ran home without looking back and ran straight home not caring if there was any time left to trick-or-treat.

  Mom had been looking out the window when they ran up the driveway. She left the house to meet them.

  “I was about to send your dad out to look for you. We haven’t had a trick-or-treater for over thirty minutes. Where were you?” She asked.

  “We . . . we were on the last street,” Kade huffed. “We ran all the way here. We didn’t want to be late.”

  “Next year you’re going to wear your watch, young man. I don’t like to worry like this,” Mom said, turning and leading them to the house.

  A siren cried in the distance. Dad left out the front door, the screen door slamming behind him. “Got a fire call. The Folter place. Be back as soon as I can.” The tires of his truck squealed as he left the driveway.

  *

  “Hey, Mom. Can we eat some more candy before we go to bed?” Kade asked.

  “How can you have room for more candy? I bet you ate two pounds of candy while you were trick-or-treating,” Mom said.

  “Un-uh. We didn’t. We hardly had any,” Kade assured.

  “Well, tomorrow is Saturday. It’s your stomach. But if you throw up, you’ll have to clean it by yourself,” Mom said.

  “Yaaaay,” the two yelled and dug through the bags of candy.

  Keaton came up with a bag of gummy worms and started eating by holding the tail end of one and nibbling at the head as it hung down.

  “Gross,” Mom said.

  Kade chose the caramel pear. He had never had a caramel pear before and could hardly wait to eat it.

  He carefully pulled the plastic wrap off the outside. He didn’t want the caramel to come off with it.

  The caramel skin was just as soft and fresh as the apple he had eaten earlier. Kade opened his mouth wide and bit down hard.

  But instead of the firm flesh of a pear, he bit into something softer. It felt leathery. He pulled at it with his teeth and something inside stretched and then tore off.

  Mom let out a scream as blood poured from the chunk of aorta Kade held in his mouth and ran down his chin. The left ventricle of a caramel covered heart had been exposed. The heart dripped blood down his hand and on to the floor.

  Kade dropped to his knees and gave back all the candy he had eaten that night.

  An unusual taste remained in Kade’s mouth for an entire month. No matter how many times he brushed his teeth.

  The End

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  Dane Hatchell, Two Halloween Tales

 

 

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