Chapter 6 #3
“I’m sorry, Dad,” he told Jackson, shortly before they headed out to a local mall where the organizers had arranged for a “safe streets” Halloween.
“But I did some research and in certain areas there is an uptake in crime—some of it minor, some of it not so minor. But, hey, you have parties, and drunks who might do things they wouldn’t do if they weren’t—well drunk.
Then, because everyone is in a costume, the diabolical might figure they can get away with robberies or even abductions or even murders because no one will be able to identify them.
Oh, and by the way! I was thinking that Pope Gregory III was truly brilliant.
Did you know this? Pope Boniface IV had established May 13th as All Saints Day in the 7th century, but because of Samhain, so they say, and to try to get all the people together on the concept, Gregory III changed All Saints Day to November 1st during the 8th century.
That’s why October 31st became Hallows Eve! Eventually turned into Halloween!”
Jackson smiled, tipping his son’s cowboy hat.
“Yeah, your mom and I investigated all kinds of information through the years—we always wind up with something going on at Halloween. The crazies do come out. The thing is, when Samhain began, it marked the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter, and winter then tended to be associated with death. It was begun by the Celts, tribes in Ireland, what is now the U.K, and northern France. And to the Celts, it marked a time when the spirits of the dead might be allowed to return to earth. People extinguished their fires at home and relit them from a communal bonfire, and, yes, animals were brought in to be slaughtered—but for food. Sometimes, kings or chieftains were inaugurated, and local troops were organized and anointed . . . and mumming and guising came about. It’s true that the poor could go house to house, asking for food, and the people knew it was time to give.
And of course there was ‘guising,’ wearing costumes as they went from place to place and danced before the bonfire.
Samhain itself was never evil, but as we know, in every decade there are those who use such occasions for good—and those who will twist them into something else. ”
“Ah ha!” Corby said. “But those traditions—turned into our traditions--came to the United States along with all the Scottish and Irish immigrants who arrived on these shores long ago!”
“Yep!”
The sudden agreement startled them both.
Angela had popped out to the parlor from the bedroom doorway.
“Wow!” Jackson said. “I—I didn’t know we were dressing up, too!”
She grinned. And he smiled again because in all that they faced, they always came home together, and somehow, they were blessed with each other—and fantastic kids.
Apparently, it was Victoria, their youngest, who had finally gotten through to her mother about what she should wear that night.
Because she was dressed as a Barbie doll and she looked fantastic, blond hair up in a high ponytail, cute little pink shirt and wide bell-bottomed pants—and to make it complete, she carried a burlap bag with the same pink coloring in places and a sign that said “Barbie” just in case the concept might be missed.
“Barbie! Wow. Cool. But—”
“Ah, come on! You’re always my Ken!” she told him.
He laughed. “All right, so . . .”
Victoria stepped out from behind her mother.
And she was the perfect little princess.
“We need to get going! That one place even hands out quarters. But they run out sometimes!” she announced.
“Well, hey, we don’t want to miss the quarters!” Jackson said.
They headed out. The night was filled with laughter, with kids dressed in every fashion.
Goblins, ghosts, werewolves, vampires and more, along with the princesses, superheroes, cowboys, and those dressed in every known fashion through the ages. The lights at the mall were bright; the night was genuinely good.
And then they headed home. The kids had an exciting time emptying their bags. And then, exhausted, they hurried off to bed.
Jackson and Angela were alone at last.
“Barbie?” he murmured, taking her into his arms.
“Ken?” she teased in return.
“Did they actually ever get married?” he asked. “I mean, you know, we are legally wed!”
She didn’t answer him; she didn’t get a chance because his phone was ringing and he quickly realized that it was Adam Harrison calling.
He winced. They did what they did because—like Spiderman, he thought—it was simply a calling, and they wouldn’t have their lives any other way.
But right now . . .
Adam began to talk and he smiled slowly. Thanking Adam, he ended the call.
“What?” Angela asked, a little worried, more confused. Because he was smiling.
“He wanted me to know that all our rescued victims are well on the way to recovery!” he told her.
And she smiled as well, then glanced across the room.
“And the clock has struck twelve! Another All Hallow’s Eve or Samhain done, sliding into the history books!” she said.
He grinned and nodded. Pulled her close into his arms again.
Time . . .
“Happy Halloween is over!” he told her.
And he kissed her.
One thing they knew well. Time was precious.
And that night . . .
He intended to make their time together very precious indeed!
Well, exciting and intimate, too!
After all, they had conquered a phantom zombie, saved a few witches and goblins, and battled the creatures of the night. . .
So now they got to be Barbie and Ken!