Chapter 7 – Three Little Devils Halloween
Hadley – 22 years old
“ T rick or Treat,” a small girl dressed up as a pumpkin shouts the moment I open the door.
Laughing, I say, “Treat,” then hold out the bowl of sweets, telling her to take a few for her little brother, who is hiding behind his mum at the end of the driveway.
I learnt the hard way not to say trick to the kids who showed up at the door. One year, the triplets—Oliver, Oscar, and Ozzy— knocked on the door dressed up as little devils, and when I said, “Trick,” they launched water balloons followed by a bag of plain white flour at me. My dad thought it was hilarious and snapped a photo while Margo gave the three boys the entire bowl of sweets for being good sports .
Unluckily for them, I waited by the window the following year and soaked them with a water gun. Call me childish, but it was funny, and they loved it, and we’ve carried it on every year since. Even Margo and Dad join in. Last year, they turned up with Nerf Guns. What will it be this year?
When I turn away from the window, Dad is applying cam cream to his face, with a huge smile spread across it. Margo’s wearing a black onesie, and Mum’s giggling to herself with a bowl of sweets in her hand.
“So, what’s the plan, Captain?” Margo asks in an American accent, bouncing on the balls of her feet and throwing punches like she’s ready to spar with someone.
“Last year, they brought Nerf Guns, so this year, I’ve outdone them,” Dad says, pulling an automatic Nerf Gun from behind the sofa. “Fires five hundred darts in one minute.” He beams while holding it out in front of him like he’s Rambo.
“Ooooh, Dad, put that down, you’re going to hurt someone,” Margo says through laughter.
Mum has tears streaming down her face as Dad puts on a tactical, bulletproof vest.
I clap, smirking. “They are only eight years old, Dad, let’s try not to seriously injure them. But enough for them to tap out so we win, right?” I give him a pointed look, and he nods before standing to attention and saluting me, then returning to his Nerf bullets and placing them in the little pouches on the front of his vest.
The doorbell rings throughout the house, and I rush to the curtains, excitement coursing through my veins, but am disappointed to see it’s another kid dressed up as a pumpkin. The triplets are usually here by now.
Mum wails, and Dad runs to her aid, then I move to the front door. Mum is covered in raw egg, and the not-so-cute pumpkin kid is laughing and pointing at her. Before I can react, loads of little bodies jump up from around the garden, all holding Nerf Guns. “Trick or Treat!” they all shout, and we dive for cover inside as darts pound against the windows and siding.
“They recruited!” Dad shouts, pacing back and forth in living room.
“They egged me,” Mum cries out, and Margo hugs her Nerf Gun while laughing so hard she’s not actually making any sound.
I climb onto the kitchen table. “Are we quitters?” I shout.
Margo laughs harder, and Mum joins in with her.
Shaking my head, I clap. “I said, ‘Are we quitters?!’”
One of the triplets watching us through the window replies, “Yes.”
“Fuck this, everyone get your Nerf Guns, Mum you too. This is war! Dad and Mum, you go out back and split up, one goes one way round to the front of the house and the other one goes the other way. Margs, you go to my room and take shots out the bedroom window while I take the front.” Nodding at them, I turn with determination and grab hold of the front door handle and whip it open.
Dad, Mum, Margo, and I are lying on the sofa wrapped up in towels laughing over tonight’s epic fail. I must give it to them, we didn’t stand a chance. There must have been at least forty kids in the garden armed with either guns or water balloons. The parents stood at the front wall at the end of our driveway recording and laughing. It turns out, the entire town loves our Halloween fiasco with the three little devils.
“You folded the moment we opened the back door.” Dad chuckles at Mum.
“Ohhh, the little loves, I couldn’t pelt them with those hard darts, could I?” Mum says while snuggled into Dad’s side. I smile at them.
Raising my beer, I make a toast. “The Halloween saga, long may it continue.”