Late weekend assignment.

   Well, tonight is Halloween. That means that my wife spent last night sewing, and I spent it scraping the guts out of pumpkins. I always wait until the day before to carve the pumpkins, owing to the disturbingly common trend of having your pumpkins smashed in the middle of the road by local teenagers if you put them out too early. My wife, on the other hand, absolutely hates waiting until the last moment to do anything, and Matthew's third mind change of the week regarding his Halloween costume late yesterday had steam coming out of her ears. Luckily, my Mother was here, and contributed her considerable sewing experience to the endeavour. Now, I'm not saying that the costume would not have turned out as well without her, but it would have been well past midnight, with me and Matthew cowering in the basement, trying to stay safely out of her way before Pat got it done on her own.
   That brings us to last week's weekend assignment. Yes, I know that the weekend is over, but what better day is there than Halloween itself to tell a Halloween story?

Weekend Assignment #83: Tell us a scary Halloween story... that happened to you. What I'm looking for here is a story where you were spooked or scared by someone or... something... in or around Halloween (or, alternately, a story where you spooked the heck out of someone else). Please note I don't want stories in which you or others were genuinely in danger -- I'm talking about you getting one big BOO! moment, which, after you were able to get your heart back into your chest, resulted in you saying something along the lines of "Don't do that!" to whomever was giving you a spook. A fun frightening, in other words.

Extra Credit: The song "Monster Mash": Fun or lame?

   OK, so, first things first. The Monster Mash is definitely fun. I don't think any generation of kids since the song came out in 1962 have ever labeled The Monster Mash as lame. Although, as today's kids all label me as lame, what do I know?
   As for a scary story, this one has stayed with me my whole life. I don't remember how old I was. Younger than Matthew is now, for sure. Probably somewhere around seven or eight, is my best guess. I don't remember what my costume was that year. In fact, I remember very little about the whole episode, other than a few vivid details here and there.
   My father and I were out trick or treating. We came to a dark house, on a dark corner. I remember my father warning me that it might be scary to go up to that house, and asking if I wanted him to come up with me. Apparently, I confidently announced that I could go up by myself.
   I'm sure the conversation was more in-depth than that. I'm sure my father explained to me that the man who lived there was a friend of his; a friend who enjoyed dressing up his house for Halloween, in as scary a fashion as possible. The explanation must also have included the standard admonitions that it was not real, that everything I saw there was make believe, although I don't remember those things.
   What I remember is standing at the front door of that dark house, and calling out, "trick or treat!" I remember eerie music playing. A light somewhere inside the house began flicking on and off. In the brief flashes of illumination I could catch glimpses of a towering, shadowy figure through the small window in the door. I remember saying, "I'm not afraid of you." Then, the door slowly started to open. The next thing I remember is trying to burrow into my Dad's chest at the bottom of the driveway. The moments in between are completely gone.
   My Dad filled them in, recounting the story years later. It seems that I was, indeed, scared by Mr. Taylor (I think that was his name). When the door started to open, I fled. Mr. Taylor, really a nice guy, and concerned about having truly frightened me, decided to chase me down the driveway, a handful of candy extended in contrition. In retrospect, I'm sure he later felt that was a poor decision on his part. It only made me run faster into the protective arms of my Father.
   That is all I remember of that night. I can recall nothing that happened before we arrived at Mr. Taylor's house, nor anything that happened after, but I have these few brief flashes, like film clips clumsily edited together, and I can see them clearly whenever I think about Halloween.

tags:Memes, Weekend Assignment