The King of Halloween

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

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“PLEASE, FOLLOW THE bellhop to your room.” Raj bent his head to the new occupants before he caught Logan and a serious man in a canvas jacket striding through the front door. “Hello, gentlemen.”

The man—whose head would have looked more human had it actually been carved out of granite—peered at him through narrowed eyes, then grunted. “Hey, man.” Logan pointed to his mouth, then back at Raj.

What did that mean?

Ignoring Logan’s flailing, Raj noted the clipboard in the man’s hand and asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

Oh, no. He still had the vampire teeth in.

The guests loved it, especially when he used the projector and secret trap door to make it look like he vanished into a swarm of bats.

But judging by the rising vein in the mystery man’s forehead, he wasn’t as big of a fan.

Raj did his best to indiscriminately spit an entire set of fangs into his mouth, then slip them into his pocket.

He put on a smile, which only earned a deeper sneer. Logan grimaced and wiped at his front teeth furiously. Damn it, had the crimson lipstick stained his teeth? There was no way to wipe that off, so Raj put on an even bigger grin through the embarrassing mess.

“I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced. I’m Raj Choudhary, owner of…”

“You the owner?” the man said over top of him.

“Yes…?” Raj glanced at Logan, who kept passing strange signs.

The guy wrote something down on his clipboard, then tore off a piece of paper. “I’m the fire marshal. Here.”

The fire marshal? What was he…? Raj caught the word invoice, then his eyes zipped right to the two thousand dollars. For what?

“You can pay it in person at the county clerk, or mail a check there,” the man said. He didn’t so much as give a goodbye, just turned around and stalked out.

“Excuse me, what is this for?”

The marshal sighed like he was doing his best to not put them all in handcuffs. Did they have that kind of power? “It’s all there in the bill, sir. Have a good day.”

“But…”

“Raj, man.” Logan caught Raj by the arm, holding him back.

The fire marshal walked toward the front door, but he glanced up at the ghost swinging on the chandelier above his head. A low snarl was punctuated by a mumbled, “Damn Satanists.”

The door slammed shut, and Raj could breathe again.

“What in the hell is going on? We were already inspected, twice. And the haunt got it three times.”

“I know, I know. It was the drip you found,” Logan said.

“The drip? We fixed it.” Well, more that it fixed itself, but it wasn’t a problem.

“Somehow, they heard about it and thought it might affect the sprinkler system. So he came out to check it, and charged us for every second of him turning cranks and watching water pour down. Nothing we can do.”

“No.” Raj shook his head, growing more incensed by the second.

They’d passed. They were good to go. Then he comes in and invents an imaginary problem in order to drain more money from them?

“This is…harassment. Profiling. Just because I’m…

” Brown. Gay. Take your pick. “They can’t charge us for this. ”

“Can and have,” Logan groaned.

“Well, then I won’t pay it.” He started to tear up the invoice, but Logan yanked it out before he could do more than rip the letterhead.

“Look, man, I get it. It’s bullshit. You know it, he knows it. But we are on very thin ice here. He can shut us down in a minute, make us do backflips for months, and choke us off over even more trumped-up charges. We need to keep him happy.”

“So it’s a bribe.”

“I prefer to think of it as insurance that he will keep his particular religious views from impeding our business.”

No. Raj had done enough back scratching in his life. He wasn’t dealing with the petty politics anymore. This was his business, and if some small man needed to push around someone who was different just to feel big, he came for the wrong target.

“Truth is, man, if not for your friendship with the mayor, I don’t think this place would have opened.”

“What?”

Logan jerked a thumb toward the front door. “That guy hates Halloween.”

“What the hell is he doing in Anoka?”

“Probably trying to ruin everyone else’s fun because he can’t have it. You know how that type is.”

“Far too well,” Raj grumbled to himself. “This is another two grand. Where are we going to get the money?”

“I can move some things around. Cancel a few ads.”

At this point, their advertising budget was a little over fifty dollars. Best they could do was hang a sandwich board on a cow and leave her next to the highway. Raj crumbled into his hands, his heart pounding faster in his head. “We need people to come here.”

“I know.”

“They can’t do that if they don’t know we exist.”

“We’ll figure something out. Something that keeps everyone happy.”

He wasn’t in the mood to keep a man like that happy, but he didn’t have a choice.

It was the VFX studio all over again. Every time he thought he got control, he could survive, some middle manager asshole would come along and gut him without a second thought.

All because it made the books look better for the stockholders.

“Hey.” Logan finished tucking the invoice away where Raj couldn’t get at it. “Why don’t you ask that Stein guy to help? Do something with his store?”

Adam? Just as things were getting good between them, he was supposed to use him to help his failing business? That’d go over well.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Raj said.

“Why? Because of the apple thing? So you two had a weird fight over fruit. People thought it was funny. They’re still talking about it, which means they’re talking about the hotel. We can use it.”

“No.” Raj shook his head.

I won’t use him.

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“Hey! Hey, Mister.”

“That’s hey, hey, mister Stein to you.” Adam chortled as he finished sweeping the last of the red maple leaves off of his sidewalk. The cherubic child bored a hole through his head at the joke. “Yes, what do you require, rapscallion?”

“What? I ain’t an onion!”

The kid’s friend took over the questioning while he fumed on the trickery of etymology. “When’s your haunt opening?”

Oh, that. Adam had kept it running for a few days due to people demanding it. But now that Raj’s was working, maybe he should shut it down.

Of course, that would only invite wee sprites like the Tuttle twins to hurl eggs and bricks at his windows.

Adam tossed his broom to the other hand like he was about to break into a soft-shoe routine. A shame he didn’t wear a hat to roll off his arm and into his palm. “I’m glad you’re here, instead of wasting your time at that other haunt.”

“There’s another haunt?” the biggest kid asked.

“Yeah,” the onion responded. “By the gas station at the lake. But it costs money.”

“Too true. A whole fifteen dollars for you to spend, what? A half hour getting terrified out of your wits. Boring. Mine finishes in three minutes. In and out, the way Halloween should be.”

The kids’ faces fell.

“And sure, the Terror Barn up by Round Lake has fog, actors, chainsaws, things that shove you into walls and grab your ankles. Oh, and authentic props from classic horror movies like The Raven’s Revenge, but does it have heart? And a bowl of grapes that feel like eyeballs?”

All three of the kids in that awkward, new-teenage stage stared at each other, then him.

“Sounds freakin’ awesome.”

“Freakin? Really?”

“I don’t want my grandma to hear. She’ll tear my ears off if I curse.”

Adam did his best to not linger on their little tête-à-tête. When they looked up, he suddenly had to sweep the leaves off the lamppost base.

“Forget this shit, man. Let’s go to a real haunt.”

“Yeah.” The other boys agreed with onion. They took off for their bikes as if they wouldn’t be begging their moms to drive them to the haunt and probably spot them a twenty.

“Wait. Don’t you want to see my mummy made out of toilet paper?” Adam called to the retreating kids.

One paused, dug a pinecone out of his pocket, and tossed it at his window. The vandalism was noted and ignored. Certain they just outsmarted an adult, the kids tore off. No doubt they’d be telling everyone at school about this awesome haunt that’ll scare their pants off.

Adam couldn’t stop the smile if he wanted to. His insides felt all gooey at his good deed. Or maybe it was the thought of what he was going to do to Raj tonight back at his place. Candles, romantic music, rich food—all pointless. He had everything he needed right…

“Honey.”

“Hey, ma.” Adam jerked his brain right back to innocent thoughts of kids screaming so hard they shit themselves. “Visiting Gloria’s for the day?”

His mother touched her freshly trimmed and curled hair that shimmered with a silver dye job. “What do you think?”

“It’s lovely. Makes you look thirty years younger.”

“Stop.” She blushed at the easy compliment.

His mother had been dying her hair silver since the first white hair came in.

She’d said that, this way, people would think she was older than she really was, so when she fully turned gray, they’d all think she aged gracefully.

It was a convoluted kind of logic that Adam could almost understand.

He wouldn’t turn down a silver fox for certain.

Ooh, Raj with gray at his temples. Damn…

“What are you doing tonight?”

Adam knew how to dodge that trap instantly. “Sorry, Mom. I can’t join you for spades.”

“Why not? Joyce cheats.” His mother harrumphed. She’d been attending spades night every Thursday for as long as he could remember. And, for as long as he and his sister were able to, they always had plans on Thursday. It was why he joined the city council in the first place.

“Sorry. Halloween meeting tonight,” Adam said.

“But those end by seven. You can still get in one game,” his mother cajoled. She must be steamed about last week’s game. She never pushed this hard.

Lucky for Adam, he had other plans. Ones he couldn’t break. “I’ve got something else going on after that, Mom.”

“Really? What is it?” She pressed her lips together in thought, then snapped her fingers. “A date?”

“What?” Adam recoiled, dooming himself.

“Oh my goodness, it is? I was only guessing. With who? Please tell me it’s the nice man from the apple festival.”

“Ma.”

“He was so kind to buy up all of those apples after we had a little oopsie. And he’s easy on the eyes. Reminds me a bit of your father when he was young.”

“Oh my god, Mom. I do not need to hear this.” Adam slammed his hands over his ears, but his mother had slipped right past needling to planning Adam’s wedding.

Round about the boutonnieres being yellow to bring out his eyes, Adam shouted, “Fine. Yes. I have a date with Mr. Choudhary.”

“Dear.” His mother’s cheeks turned pink. “I think you can call him by his first name, especially if you’ve already kissed.”

Holy hell. Adam’s legs melted into the sidewalk.

He kept peering around, hoping to god the neighboring shop owners couldn’t hear this.

What would they say if they found out he was with someone, and doing a hell of a lot more than kissing?

Was the King of Halloween allowed to date a man?

Or would they demand his crown on the spot?

“Well. I need to be off. We’re raising money for the VFW hall. That poor thing. Went up like a match.”

“Yeah. Sure, mom,” Adam mumbled, his brain churning overtime with old-timey illustrations of him being tied to the stake. No, put in the stocks, while they lobbed apples at his pumpkin head.

That fear never left.

It went hand in hand with freaking out over whether his crush liked him back. Then came the ‘Oh god, what if he hates me because I like him?’ Followed quickly by, ‘What if people hate me because we like each other?’

No matter how old he got, how far that needle moved, he couldn’t escape that scraggly fourteen-year-old trapped in his locker pleading for anyone to find him. With so many previous boyfriends, it was easier for him to keep cagey about his relationship with the outside world.

But for Raj…

Adam’s pocket rang out.

“Damn it!”

He was late for the meeting. Tossing the broom back inside to an annoyed Chrissy, Adam took off.

?

What should I make for dinner?

“We’re still looking.”

There’s my world-famous Bolognese sauce. Though, does Raj eat red meat? The only thing I’ve seen him devour was a caramel apple. Rather hard to woo while our hands are covered in sticky sugar.

“What about down in—?”

“Everything’s booked up.”

“Everything?”

“We’ve only got a week’s notice.”

Steaks. That’s a proper date night meal. Though, then I’m back to the issue of red meat. He said he’s not a practicing Sikh, but…do they have any dietary restrictions? Why didn’t I ask?

“Maybe we just cancel the masquerade this year?”

“And, what, refund the tickets?”

“It’s an idea.”

No. Gnocchi in pomodoro sauce!

Adam smacked his hands together and cried out, “I’ve got it!”

All five of the committee members swiveled to stare at him. Crickets chirped from the empty rows of chairs.

“Well…?” Marianne asked.

“Well, what?”

“You’ve figured out how to solve our Halloween masquerade problem.”

There was a problem? Adam tugged on his earlobe while doing his best to catch no one’s eye. “I thought we were going classic monsters this year.”

The chorus of groans told him he had chosen poorly. “The location, Stein. We need a location.”

“What’s wrong with the VFW?”

The sound of a palm smacking a forehead was his only answer.

They returned to endlessly debating whatever the problem was with the masquerade.

Probably not enough fancy napkins, or the fountain should be caramel this year.

Adam checked his phone, wondering if he’d have time to make a quick stop at the store before Raj arrived.

The Halloween plans, the committee, the entire world faded to nothing. All that mattered was making this date perfect.