© Copyright 2005 by Karen O'Leary

"Is it time yet?" Six-year-old Carrie Ostland bounced up and down on her toes.

"No." Her mother pointed to the wall clock. "It's only two o'clock. Remember, I said that the little hand needs to get all the way to six before you can go."

"But that's going to take forever," her daughter whined.

"I've been saving a Halloween project. Go get your brother and sister."

Carrie dashed outside, the screen door banging behind her. "Brent! Mel!"

"Walk," Debra Ostland whispered. She drew three 8X11 brown, shopping-styled bags from the entry closet. She grabbed a bucket of crayons from the counter as she headed for the table.

"What's the surprise," eight-year-old Brent yelled as he skidded to a stop beside his mother.

"You get to decorate your own Trick 'N Treat bags this year."

"Oh yeah. We get to color." Twelve-year-old Melanie's sarcasm shot from her mouth.

Her mother straightened. "Mickey's Market handed these out. Mr. Dawson said that anyone that designs one gets a Halloween surprise."

Melanie perked up. "Do you know what it is?"

Mrs. Ostland shrugged, placing an index finger over her lips.

Carrie giggled. "She can't tell." Her eyes widened. "I bet it's a super-sized Snickers."

"He gives out better stuff than that," her brother countered.

"The only way you'll find out is to get these finished." Their mother passed out the bags.

An hour later, the brown paper sported an array of goblins, pumpkins, cats, witches, and an assortment of other characters and objects in creative colors. Debra Ostland admired each one. "These are wonderful."

The Ostlands piled into their Dodge Caravan. Carrie fidgeted in the front seat. "What do you think it is?"

"Stop already," Melanie snapped. "You're driving me nuts."

"Mel," her mother's admonishing tone drifted back.

"Sorry." Melanie crossed her arms across her chest.

As the van pulled into the grocery store parking lot, kids dashed towards the entrance. "Looks like everyone's here," Brent commented, staring out the window.

Before their mother pulled the keys from the ignition, her children had raced into the store. She opened the van door, scanning the lot for any oncoming pedestrian speedsters. "This is crazy," Anne Jager yelled across the lot.

Debra Ostland chuckled as she maneuvered around the onslaught towards her friend.

"A person should get combat pay for this mission," Anne emoted, sweeping the back of her hand across her forehead.

Debra laughed. "Are you trying for an Oscar?"

"Mom," Brent Ostland screamed, waving a pen with a smiling ghost cap.

"I got a pumpkin one." Carrie ran up to her mother.

"Where's Mel?" Debra asked.

"She's talking to Jen," Carrie answered.

"We'll never get out of here now," Brent groaned.

Debra spotted Melanie and her best friend, Jennifer Morton, meandering near the van. "See you later Anne. I've got to get these kids home."

Kevin Ostland stood at the kitchen counter pouring an assortment of candy bars and smaller treats into a large wicker basket. His two youngest burst into the room. "Dad, you're home," Brent shouted.

"Look what we got!" Carrie interrupted, holding up her orange pen.

"I see you got off early." Debra Ostland stood in the doorway grinning.

"I figured you could use a little help keeping the lid on these two." Kevin ruffled the hair of the youngsters. "There's a Disney movie in the family room."

"Yeah!" Carrie and Brent yelled as they took off running.

"Walk," their father ordered, then chuckled. "What I wouldn't give for half their energy.

"Me too." Debra plopped herself on a kitchen chair. "Give me a minute to regroup, and I'll start supper."

"I'll help," her husband offered. He looked around the room. "Where's Mel?"

"Out in the patio with Jen. It's not good for the preteen image to spend too much time with "old" people and little kids.

"You calling me old." Kevin flung up his hands.

"No. You're over thirty. That's ancient." Debra tipped her head to the side, a smug look on her face.

"Watch it woman or you'll be peeling spuds by yourself." They laughed.

Two hours later, dressed as superman, Brent paced the floor. "Are they going to spend all night in the bathroom?"

His dad shut the book he was reading. "Men need to be patient while our women get beautiful."

"I don't care about dumb stuff like that."

Kevin smiled. "You will."

"It's getting dark," Carrie yelled from the kitchen. She pranced into the family room in her fairy costume complete with glittered wings. She twirled around. "Can we go now?"

"As soon as they get done in the bathroom," Brent grumbled.

Jennifer and Melanie giggled as they tried to get false eyelashes in place. Mel's left one rested on her cheek. They were movie stars for the night, hair curled and sporting ornate barrettes that pulled their tresses back in mature styles.

"I wish Mom would let me wear makeup all the time. I hate looking like a little kid," Jennifer complained as she applied some powdered blush to her cheeks.

Mel batted her eyes after getting the fake lashes in place. "Me too."

The doorbell rang. Brent yelled. "Let's go. There's all kinds of kids out already."

"Trick or Treat," Carrie sang out louder than the rest of the quartet.

Mrs. Mickelson, the next door neighbor, smiled. "What a good looking group."

She dropped two Snickers bars into each bag.

"Did you see what we got?" Carrie danced around the rest.

The older girls looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

"Come on." Brent grabbed his younger sister's hand.

An hour later, their bags were laden with treats. Gusts of wind chilled the adventurers.

"Let's go to the Swansons," suggested Melanie.

"That's a great idea." Jennifer guided Carrie around the corner.

The Swanson home, a Halloween haven for the cold and weary, bustled with activity. Two large coffee pots contained apple cider and hot chocolate. Seventy-year-old Bart filled cups for the newest arrivals, then his wife, Abigail, ushered them into a spacious family room. "Sit down and rest a spell."

Jennifer sat at the edge of the sofa, sipping her steaming beverage. "This is the best hot chocolate ever."

"Why thank you dear," there elderly woman beamed.

About twenty other youngsters sat or milled about the room. Brent stood near the fireplace talking with two boys.

Melanie dropped her empty cup in the trashcan on her way out. "Thank you for the cider."

Bart smiled. "It was our pleasure. Have fun."

Two blocks from home, with her bag nearly full, Carrie sighed. "I'm tired."

"Me too." Brent set his bag on the sidewalk.

Two teenage boys, sporting leather jackets, sauntered towards them. "Run," whispered Melanie.

One of the thugs ripped Carrie's bag, spilling its contents. They laughed and taunted the running kids.

A block later, the youths gasped for air. "They're gone," Brent rasped.

Carrie gripped the handles of her torn bag as she cried. Melanie embraced her.

After accompanying Jennifer to her place, the Ostlands continued home. Carrie ran to her father's open arms. "We got chased by a couple of goons," Brent explained. "They tore her bag."

"We'll share with you." Melanie said, standing beside a mound of candy on the kitchen floor.

"You can pick first," her bother added.

Carrie lifted her head from her dad's shoulder and dried her eyes. "Can I have a Snickers?"




HEY! and don't forget to e-mail Karen O'Leary if you have a comment!


gksm@cableone.net

Author's Note: Karen O'Leary is a Christian wife, mother, nurse, and freelance writer. She has published articles, short stories, and poetry in "Parables", "The Journal of Christian Nursing", "Smile", "Storyteller", "Art With Words" as well as others. She hopes her words will have a positive influence on others.





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