Tessa Leigh Harper tripped over the cardboard tower stapled to the bottom of her thrift store ball gown. Momentarily blinded by the long dark curtain of curls spilling over her face, she focused on the distinct sound of assorted candies crackling onto the sidewalk and the thwack of a plastic pumpkin. She was nine years old but only for a few more hours.
Luckily, her best friend Della caught her. Luckier still Della managed to keep her balance (despite their several inch height difference) and Tessa’s infamous lack of grace failed to topple them both.
“I told you wouldn’t be able to walk in that thing” Bea scolded as she brushed past, Lelia giggling behind her.
Tessa glared at them but didn’t quite have time to speak before Della threw a still wrapped chocolate into her mouth and tugged her arm.
“Come on!”
Tessa scooped the last handful of candy back into her pumpkin and, clutching clumsily at her skirt, raced Della up onto the porch to join their other two friends.
Bea had already rung the door bell and Della and Tessa bounded up the steps just in time to yell “Trick-or-Treat!” as Mrs. Sparklenmire opened the door.
Mrs. Sparklenmire was in her mid-sixties and the type of matronly southern woman who, now that her children were grown, would happily adopt any lonely child who wandered onto her doorstep, bake them a fresh batch of cookies, and start all over again. Given that all the children in this neighborhood had parents, however, she got by simply taking in stray cats and hoping that her husband wouldn’t look up from his televised golf long enough to count them. She was never happier than at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter when she would be surrounded by her young grandchildren, but tonight was Halloween and she had, in fact, baked and individually wrapped cookies for all the lovely children who set foot on her wrap around porch. The cookies were still warm through their saran-wrap.
“Well aren’t ya’ll just adorable!” she cooed at the four nine year olds. “Come get your cookies one at a time so I can see your pretty costumes.”
Bea gave Lelia a little push. Lelia blushed bright pink and stepped forward to get her treat.
Lelia Marie Williams was by far the quietest and most unassuming of the bunch but she was so pretty that she always drew attention. She looked like a porcelain doll complete with blonde curls, baby blue eyes, and pale perfect skin that often turned bright pink in the face of the sun or embarrassment. She was deathly shy, terribly proper and delicately proud. On this particular night she couldn’t help but show off a bit, displaying the clear jelly shoes on her little feet, the unique final touch to her store bought Cinderella costume.
“All you need now’s a Prince Charming!” Mrs. Sparklenmire beamed.
“Yeah!” Tessa piped up, very pleased that someone had caught her clever casting “She’s already got an evil step—ow!“ Bea stopped pinching Tessa and Della stifled a giggle. Lelia blushed even brighter.
Mrs. Sparklenmire handed her a cookie. “There you go dear.”
Lelia looked up and smiled (with perfect white teeth that would never need braces). She took the cookie with an almost whispered “Thank you” and stepped aside.
Next up was Beatrice Eve Taylor, who could almost have been Lelia’s inverse image. Short, round, and dark, she would later in life explain to people that she was pure blooded Irish, but owed her brown eyes and thick dark hair to survivors of the Spanish Armada who, wrecked and stranded on Ireland’s shores, had intermarried as an alternative to getting clubbed over the head. It was this short, thick, almost black hair that landed Bea in the role of Snow White. Wearing a Disney correct costume her grandmother had made, she came complete with a trick-or-treat bag over her right arm and a basket full of seven dwarf dolls and an apple over her left.
“Here’s something much better for you to be eating honey” said Mrs. Sparklenmire, as she handed Bea a cookie.
“Thank you ma’ma” Bea said with a little curtsey. In a way, her family was society, and even at the age of nine this was not something she felt should be overlooked.
By this point, Tessa had collected herself and was ready once again to try walking in the tower. The whole idea of going as princesses had been Tessa’s (as most of the ideas that actually got executed were) and she was infinitely proud of her costume. She had painted the tower (an old cardboard box with the top and bottom cut off) herself (after her art teacher mother had drawn the outlines for her first). Tessa was not a girl who did well with straight lines. She was also terribly impatient and unfocused except on the rarest of special projects, so everyone was amazed the costume came out the way it did.
The tower was stapled to the taffeta skirt of her violet thrift store ball gown. This allowed plenty of room for walking, she had figured (and her mother anticipated the usefulness of the extra padding when Tessa inevitably tripped over her creation). Tessa tripped often. Her brain always moved faster than her legs, making her the sort of girl who was forever surprised days later by scrapes and bruises with no memory of where they came from. Stapled to the top of the tower (Tessa’s mom was well versed in the usefulness of staples) were the remains of a long brown wig that spilled over the tower, picking up, approximately, where Tessa’s hair left off. It was a bit of a mess and her mom had tried to convince her to use yarn or something simpler, but that was a bit too conceptual for Tessa. She liked things complicated and accurate.
It was Tessa herself, however, who made it all work. She was tall and thin and her hair made her look even more so. Her thick brown curls had never been cut more than a trim and cascaded down to her waist at least. She was beautiful but in a quirky sort of way with blue-grey eyes that could never quite pick a color and a vaguely freckled complexion that would become her bane once puberty hit. She was far from self-conscious though.
She strode forward to display her creation and claim her prize.
“Sugar you better not ever cut that hair” Mrs. Sparklenmier said in awe.
Tessa smiled as she selectively chose a cookie. Her hair was what everyone noticed about her. It drew attention and concealed at the same time. She was a born Rapunzel.
When Tessa stepped aside, Mrs. Sparklenmier got her first real look at Della Anne Shore. By far the shortest of the bunch, Della was tiny in every respect and had thus been kept in partial view by her friends. Now, however, she hurried forward with all the energy and presence impossibly contained within her small frame. Mrs. Sparklenmier was disarmed not only by Della, but by her costume.
“And who are you supposed to be?” She stammered. “Didn’t you want to be a princess like your friends?”
Della grinned at her, plastic vampire teeth dipped in red to match the line of red face paint blood trailing from the corner of her dark red lips. Her olive skin had been powered white and her boyish cut, thin, straight, brown hair was slicked back in a vampiric fashion. Under her black cape, lined in red, she wore an ill fitting slinky black dress that could only be described as creepy on a nine year old. To the unenlightened viewer she was a vampire. Della was always a vampire and not just because it was the only costume she owned. Every other year she would be a vampire-something. She had been a vampire ballerina and a vampire dentist, but had declared the idea of a vampire fairy “just dumb.” She carried a pillow case and this year topped it all off with a crown of thorns (“briers!” she would correct) on her head.
“I’m Sleeping Beauty!” She announced, slurring through her plastic teeth.
Lelia giggled and as Bea gave an exasperated sigh. Tessa beamed helpfully.
“You know, because she sleeps all day and the ‘kiss’ and the briers” Della pointed to her crown. “which are kind of like stakes and—“
Bea rolled her eyes “She thinks it’s a metaphone.”
Mrs. Sparklenmier stared at them in bewilderment. “A meta… ah. Yes”
Della’s green eyes gleamed as she grabbed her cookie tossing it into her pillowcase. She was used to having this effect on people.
“Happy Halloween” the girls chorused scurrying off the porch as the next round of children hurried up. And poor Mrs. Sparklenmier was left to wonder how such a set of girls ever got to be friends.
~ ♠ ~
None of the girls lived on this particular street, but Tessa lived in a nearby neighborhood and convinced them all that this was the only place to go trick-or-treating. She was right at least as far as neighborhoods appropriate for their age group were concerned. Things tended to get out of hand over in the Fan, near the university, where all the artists and students lived.
Seminary Avenue, however, was a children’s paradise. Tucked away on a quiet street on the outskirts of the historic district on the north side of town, it came to life for this one night every year as the whole of a two or three block section got into the spirit.
The decorations were extravagant. Giant spider webs, ghosts hanging from trees, skeletons in the windows. These people decorated for Halloween the way Della’s father decorated for Christmas (every year she whined that from December 1 to January 6 there would be no darkness for at least a 6 mile radius).
Of all the sights to be seen as the residents of Seminary Avenue took to their porches armed with treats for a yearly average of six hundred costumed kids (occasionally asleep in the arms of parents who continued to collect candy in a vaguely suspicious way) by far the most spectacular was what had come to be know to Tessa and her friends as simply “the Graveyard House.”
For the moment, however, the girls were still just turning onto the sidewalk from Mrs. Sparklenmire’s personal walkway, where they were confronted by a 12 year old Indiana Jones. Julian Harper, Tessa’s older brother, didn’t look much like Harrison Ford (and even less like River Phoenix), having inherited hair even darker than his sister’s and a pair of ice blue eyes no one could quite explain, but even just on the cusp of his teenage years he managed the haphazard charm the role required. Mothers had already begun watching him with wary eyes, shaking their heads at the hearts he’d inevitably break. But while Julian would certainly much rather have been traipsing across the desert to battle Nazis for some sacred artifact (and perhaps having a pretty girl kiss him in the end) his current task was far more mundane: find his sister and her friends, and get them to go home.
He grabbed Tessa’s arm. “You are so gonna be in trouble. Mom told you to be back at the Waynelans’ by 9 and its 9:03 already!”
“Can’t we just finish this block?” Tessa whined. “Just this side of the street?”
“We could do the other side on the way back.” Bea piped up. She liked to be practical and reasonable. Particularly when Tessa wasn’t.
“No.” Julian started firmly. “You’re already late.”
“Tessa’s always late” Della offered. “She was even born—“
“No.” Julian started to pull Tessa down the street. “I have to get you and your little friends back to Mom so I can go to Rob’s.” He cast a look to a group of his friends leaning against a tree down the street.
“But Julian! Tomorrow’s my birthday!“ Tessa cried digging in her heels and stumbling once again over her costume.
He stopped and looked down at her. “I know Tess! You say that every year and it’s never going to work! Besides, you only get presents if you’re good. Now come on.” He turned and stalked off. The girls followed, defeated and dejected.
Up ahead, across the street on the way to the Waynelans’, the black light and strobes of the Graveyard House flickered through the trees and the thunder sound effects crashed over the sound of a werewolf’s howl. This house, with its murderous silhouettes in the windows, dead bodies hanging from the trees, and glowing neon graveyard, (complete with witticisms on most of the stones and crosses) was a right of passage for all the children who set foot on this street. You had to be old enough to brave it.
Suddenly Tessa whispered something in Della’s ear and took off running toward the Graveyard House. Della tore after her with a slightly slurred rebel yell. Lelia and Bea exchanged a glance before Lelia grabbed Bea’s hand and ran after them.
Julian, who was the respectable ten paces ahead that one was require to walk in front of one’s younger sister, whipped around to see the girls bolting across the street and hollered to his friends. They raced to join him as Julian began the chase, his mission gone horribly awry.
It should have been easy for the four twelve year old boys to catch the four nine year old girls in long dresses (and a tower) but the streets were so packed with children that small stature and a decent head start were worth a lot. Besides, Tessa had finally learned her lesson and was holding the tower and skirt up as she ran.
When they reached the Graveyard House, Della and Tessa split off. Tessa ran into the maze of glowing graves as Della scampered up a corpse adorned oak tree. Lelia and Bea paused in a moment of confusion, long enough to look back and see the boys on their heels. Lelia shrieked and off they went again heading for the backyard. Della struggled to climb the tree, not used to the tight black dress and her cape getting in the way. Lelia and Bea rounded the house, only to narrowly avoid running smack into a shed. They were quickly cornered by two of Julian’s friends.
Huddled behind one of the larger gravestones, Tessa reveled in the adrenaline and the spookiness of the transformed world around her. This was just like something out of one of the books she had read, or maybe a story she might write herself. She listened carefully, beneath the chattering children and ghoulish wails, hoping her friends had escaped okay. She tried to catch her breath, feeling the most alive she had felt in all of her nine short years. She imagined she could feel Halloween itself coursing through her very veins.
“Tessa” Julian called and she froze. An ambitious smile crossed her lips. Victory was nigh, she could taste it.
“Come out Tess. We already caught your friends.” Julian coaxed.
Tessa smirked. Exactly how stupid did he think a girl who had been reading since she was four could be?
“Don’t believe me? It’s true. Right guys?”
Della shrieked.
Tessa’s eyes went wide and she held her breath for a moment. Then she peaked around the headstone. She gasped at the sight of Julian holding Della as a very unwilling hostage. Della squirmed and struggled but to no avail. She tried to kick him but she just couldn’t seem to make contact. John and Bill stood guard over Lelia and Bea. If it had been a real life or death situation, they probably could have escaped, but the thing about make believe is that if you lose, you have to honor the rules of capture in the end.
“Come on out Tess. Or I’ll tell Mom and you’ll never see your friends again!” Julian threatened as his final blow.
Tessa leapt up from her hiding place with a cry. “Nuh-uh! Julian! That’s not true. These are my friends forever and you can’t make me not see them again ever no matter what!”
Rob swooped in quickly and took the final captive as Julian laughed and let out his victory cry. Della kicked him in the shins, but the battle was lost. They would all live to fight another day.