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Halloween Magic
“Is today Halloween?” Dad kept asking me yesterday.
“Yes, it’s finally here,” I assured him for the third time while he sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast.
“I have to give out the candy,” he reminded me.
It bugs me when he says that. He doesn’t have to do it at all. He offered to do it the first Halloween he was with us and has assumed the role ever since. That first year I thought it would be nice to watch him interact with the kids, to see him smile at the parade of ghosts and princesses trekking down the street with their loot. I forgot for a moment who I was dealing with.
If he maintains a sense of fun or adventure about this day it lies deeply hidden inside of him and it seems odd to me that this is the one holiday in which he insists on taking an active role.
He’ll pop out of his room long enough to say, “ hello,” to people who come for Thanksgiving and Christmas but as soon as that chore is over he’ll disappear again until it’s time to eat, and he certainly doesn’t linger long at the table once he’s had his fill of pumpkin pie.
As introverted as he is, as unsettled as he becomes around strangers, I’d think he’d want to avoid Halloween at all costs. But no, he not only insists on passing out the candy, he pulls a chair up to the window and peers out into the night, his dark eyes and mask-like expression reminding me of a living jack-o-lantern. I wonder how many kids walk right past our house whispering about the old man who lives there.
Apparently not many. At dusk the doorbell begins to ring and the parade of fairies and firemen, monsters and maniacs sing out, “Trick or Treat” and he responds, “OK,” and puts precisely two pieces of candy in each bag.
Content that the promise of the evening has been fulfilled at this house, the kids move on next door and Dad goes back to his chair in front of the window to wait for the next group to arrive.
“How long do I have to do this?” he asked after the first half hour. “When do they stop?”
“They stop at 8:00 o’clock or when we turn the light out. Are you tired? I can give out the rest of the candy if you want to stop.”
“No, I have to do it.”
Last year I asked him why he feels that way.
“Because,” he said. “If you do it, it’ll look funny.”
That really puzzled me.
“I can do it,” I assured him. “I did it before you came to live here. I can do it now.”
“No,” he insisted. “I have to do it.”
“Why?” I asked again, wanting to understand what he was feeling.
“Because I’m the oldest and it’s my job,” he stated firmly.
There was no disguising the sense of purpose conveyed in those words or the look of determination that sparked in his eyes at that moment.
I should have known all along, shouldn’t I? Halloween is the night when we step out of our usual roles to reach out and grab the sweet things in life and there’s real magic in that. Halloween is made for him. Trick or Treat.
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