"The tree was big enough to shade the whole front yard. Its long branches swayed in the soft wind like giant arms dancing in the sky. Mandy shivered and took Trisha by the arm. "It's kind of spooky here, isn't it?" An owl hooted somewhere nearby. Ma...
Rosco watched as Mrs. McKendrick tore open a big orange bag and poured the little packets of orange-and-brown wrapped treats into a big black bowl. She emptied the second bag then set the bowl on a table near the front door.
Rosco padded over to investigate. Who's going to eat all that? Can I have some? He moved closer to get a whiff of the chocolate-and-peanut-butter smell escaping the wrappers. Mmm. Rosco loved peanut butter.
"Not for you, boy," said Mom, smiling at the large German shepherd. "Off you go." She headed back towards the kitchen.
Rosco wandered over to the front window. Strings of orange lights had begun to glow from some of the houses nearby, and it looked as though some neighbors were outside, bustling about on the sidewalks. How odd, he thought. It was dark already. What were they doing? He considered the possibilities.
Mr. McKendrick came into the living room, matches and candles in hand. He opened the front door. "Time to light 'em up!" he said, stepping outside.
Out on the porch, Dad bent down next to the giant pumpkin that he and James had picked out at the pumpkin patch several weeks ago. Dad had cut a spooky face into it the night before as Rosco looked on.
He watched now as Dad lifted the lid from the pumpkin and set it on the ground, then lit a small candle and placed it inside.
Dad smiled. "There we are! Perfect!" He lit more candles and placed them inside the pumpkins that the kids had carved.
Rosco wandered out onto the porch then sat down and scratched his ear with his foot. What was all the fuss about? He trotted down the porch steps to take a look at the jack-o-lanterns from the front, and his eyes went wide when he saw how the candles glowed from inside, lighting up the faces. Ah ha!Candle holders—now that makes sense! He sat down to think about it. Doesn't it?
Dad seemed to have big plans for the porch. He plugged in the orange lights that lined the front windows of the house, then went to the garage and returned with a small machine and a large, black witches' pot. He plugged in the machine and turned it on. Soon, a foggy mist began to blow from the pot.
"There's our bubbling cauldron," Dad said, delighted with his work.
Rosco sniffed at the mist and coughed. What in the world was this? Why was he making fog come out of a bowl? And, how?
But Dad kept on about his business, as if all of this was completely normal. Rosco sighed. Something strange was going on around here. Maybe James and Mandy could explain. Rosco headed back inside.
***
Mandy bounded down the stairs with James on her heels. "I am not gonna be scared tonight, James, so stop saying I will. I love Halloween!"
"Okay, fine," said ten-year-old James. "But I remember last year, and the year before that, and the year before that..." He grinned and made a scary face, holding his arms up in the air.
Mandy wrinkled her nose at her brother. "Well, I won't be this year. Anyway, that was because it got so dark."
"Well, it's going to get dark tonight, too," said James. "Just sayin'..."
Mandy turned away and sighed. She did love Halloween, but people were always scaring each other—jumping out of dark corners or making icky fake things seem real. James usually brought out his collection of rubber spiders and snakes this time of year and left them sitting around the house in odd places, so that someone—usually Mandy—would find one when she was least expecting it.
She couldn't help but feel torn. She loved getting dressed up and going trick-or-treating, and eating the candy afterwards—but she definitely didn't like the creep factor. She also definitely didn't want James or Mom and Dad or her friends thinking she was a baby about it. If her parents thought she'd be too scared, she wouldn't be allowed to go trick-or-treating with James and the other kids this year.
She shook off the uncomfortable thoughts and decided to be brave—it was better than missing out on the fun. She would do her best to remember that it was all just for fun. She turned her attention back to Rosco. "Are you excited to trick-or-treat, boy?"
Rosco tilted his head sideways, then sat down and held up his paw, panting agreeably.
Mandy looked at James with a blank expression. "What's he doing? Why is he playing Shake?"
Rosco tilted his head in the other direction, then lay down and rolled over, and stood up again, fast. Then he panted, waiting for her response.
Still, Mandy looked confused. "Why is he rolling over now?"
James tilted his own head sideways, puzzled. "I don't know. Whatchya doin', boy?"
This time Rosco lay down, rolled onto his back, and stuck his paws straight up in the air, then went perfectly still.
"I think he's playing dead now," said James, still unsure. "He's doing all his tricks."
The kids looked at each other at the same time and then back at Rosco. "Trick-or-treat!" they both said.
"Jinx!" said Mandy.
"Double jinx!" said James.
Mandy laughed. She couldn't keep quiet just then, whether they'd said jinx or not. "He thinks that's what trick-or-treat means!"
James scratched Rosco's head. "What a smart boy! You did a trick so we'd give you a treat!"
"Rosco, you're so funny!" said Mandy.
Rosco sat up and waited for his treat.
"I'll go get him a biscuit," said Mandy. "He deserves one after all that."
Rosco downed the biscuit and joined the kids out on the porch where they were checking on Dad's progress. Mandy clapped a hand over her mouth when she saw the fog machine and the mist escaping from the bubbling cauldron. "That looks so cool, Dad!"
"Thanks, Mandy. But, hold on—you two aren't ready yet?" asked Dad. "Your friends will be here any minute—better hop to it!"
Mandy skipped back inside and headed up the stairs. "Okie dokie, I'll be right back!"
"It won't take me long, either," said James, and he followed her up the stairs.
All photos and artwork courtesy of Pixabay
Visit Shana Gorian on the web at shanagorian.com
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