31. Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
Brandy
Safety Week ended at noon on Friday with the largest turnout Denture had seen in eleven years of records.
Thompson told me later that Jo had to send two of the rookies out to the parking lot three separate times just to direct traffic for parents dropping off kids.
The fingerprint station ran out of ink twice.
The animal tracking course had so much foot traffic they had to redo the prints by Wednesday so the little kids could see them when they went through on Thursday.
I couldn’t be more thrilled.
At noon, the last fingerprint card was handed out, the last kid climbed down from the truck cab, and the bay went from kid-safety-education zone to full-blown event construction in approximately the time it took everyone to change their shirts.
I have never in my life seen that many people move that fast with that much enthusiasm toward manual labor.
Jo had the fire crew organized and unloading the supplies within fifteen minutes.
Stephanie showed up from the community center with four staff members and a folding table full of supplies.
Five of Hank's officers showed up in plain clothes because apparently when Hank says help Brandy with her thing, it is not optional.
Bill from the hardware store arrived with his forklift half decorated and a crew ready to finish the job.
Ruthie brought three trays of cookies for the volunteers, which I suspected was less about feeding people and more about making sure she didn't miss a single second of the action.
Gerald, the name Scott had given the skeleton, went up at the bay entrance first, arms raised, conducting his orchestra of chaos. The palm trees flanked the doors.
The garland, finally, FINALLY untangled from the watermelon lights, went up along every available surface.
The neon skeletons started popping up everywhere in poses that ranged from dignified to deeply inappropriate, the latter courtesy of Scott, who insisted every skeleton deserved, in his words, a little personality.
A pallet of watermelons showed up from the grocery store. Their contribution was to have a watermelon carving station. I’d insisted on them supplying garbage bags the kids could cover their outfits with.
By two o'clock, the fire station bay itself had been transformed.
Cobwebs stretched between the trucks. A fog machine someone had donated sat humming quietly near the entrance.
The watermelon lights wound through everything, glowing soft green and pink even in the afternoon sun.
Someone had put large eyes on the windshields, giving them character.
I stood in the middle of it at two fifteen with my clipboard against my chest and stared.
We’re done, and it only took two hours. I doubted we’d get it all done. But we did. Damn, I love this town!
"What do you think, boss?" Thompson said, coming up beside me, wiping his hands on his pants. “You did it.”
"We did this," I corrected him.
Scott came up to us. "Damn, Brandy. This is really something."
“Everyone did a great job.” I smiled at the two of them. “Thank you, guys.”
They both hugged me, then jogged off into the bay.
"Alright, everyone," I called out, "thank you so much for all the work. I’m so impressed you got everything done so quickly. Just a reminder, trunk-or-treat vehicles need to be in position and ready to go by five thirty. And the event starts at six. Thank you again!”
The bay emptied in a wave of people heading home or to their cars to change. I gathered my things and headed to the community center to get into my own costume.
The locker room at the community center was, miraculously, empty.
It didn’t take me long to change into the Little Red Riding Hood costume I'd ordered. A deep red hooded cape, a matching red dress, a basket, and a dress that was both adorable and completely appropriate for a community event with children present. I checked myself in the mirror. My tennis shoes didn’t quite match, but they were practical and needed considering the amount of steps I was about to put in.
Huh, not bad, Wilson. I think all the sex has helped me lose some weight.
I turned to look at the back of the outfit.
Other than the nights he worked overnights, Nick and I have been pretty inseparable. Spending the night at each other’s houses. Our cardio workouts have been quite strenuous and very, very worth it.
I packed the wolf ears I’d gotten for Cap to wear carefully into my bag, along with my basket of supplies, and headed back to the fire station, already imagining the look on Cap's face when I put them on him.
When I got there, I went looking for him. But not only didn’t I find him, walking out of the bay to scan the parking lot, I didn’t find anyone. Three trunk-or-treat vehicles pulled into the parking lot. The wolf ears would have to wait.
The next hour was a blur. Businesses arrived one after another to set up their trunks.
I had a section of the parking lot roped off so everyone could line up together.
Bill's forklift, fully transformed into something resembling a dragon with a decapitated-head basketball hoop attachment, roared to life complete with smoke.
The flower shop's car had been turned into a garden of carnivorous plants that the kids had to grab candy from their mouths before they snapped shut on their hands.
The bakery's car had a skeleton baker in a tall white hat and apron brandishing an evil-looking rolling pin complete with fangs that spun around and moved its arms. Ruthie's fun confections filled the trunk and hung from hooks.
The bank, somehow, had managed a haunted ATM display that the kids put coins into that activated the machine to rumble, wiggle, and jump at them.
Pins and Grins set up a makeshift bowling alley lined with hay bales and neon glow-in-the-dark bowling balls.
At five thirty, every vehicle was in position, every business owner was in costume, and the smell of Bill's forklift fog machine mixed with Beckett's popcorn drifting over from somewhere. The whole parking lot had the specific electric energy of an event about to begin.
At six o’clock, it was like someone opened a gate. People poured in.
Families in costumes with strollers and wagons. Kids of every size greeted each other. But the best was seeing all the costumed grandparents playing games with their grandkids.
I dabbed my eyes and blinked back tears. This is exactly what I wanted.
The Denture High School pep band struck a chord as they started playing Ghostbusters.
I was checking in with the face-painting station when Mayor Rich Stevens found me.
He was dressed, head to toe, as the Mayor from The Nightmare Before Christmas. The patchwork suit, the long pointed hat, the cane, and a face painted with an enormous unsettling permanent smile that somehow made his usual expression look almost subtle by comparison.
"Brandy," he said, "what a success! Kudos to you, lady. I'm so happy to have you on my team."
"Thank you, Mayor. I love the costume."
"Why, thank you. I thought it was fitting.
" He looked around at the crowd, the lights, a Summerween decoration on every available surface.
"Yes, yes, this really is quite something.
" He turned back to me. "You got the community involved better than I ever thought you would.
I knew you were the right one for the job. "
I felt something warm settle in my chest. “I really am happy I moved here.”
"One thing I'm curious about," the mayor said, his painted brow somehow still managing to wrinkle. "What's this poly pocket thing I heard about you and the chiefs today? I didn’t understand it."
I laughed. "Just a costume idea we had."
"Oh, oh, quite right. I see." He touched the brim of his hat.
"Well, I must mingle. Hands to shake, things like that.
" He walked off into the crowd, his cane tapping against the pavement, already heading toward a cluster of families near the bounce house.
“Welcome. Welcome, thank you for coming.” He greeted the nearest people.
I turned back toward the fire station bay and stopped.
Cap was striding out of the bay doors dressed, somehow, head to toe as a fire hydrant.
Red and silver felt wrapped around his enormous frame, a little hydrant cap perched between his ears.
His tail was going at full speed, thumping against the costume with every wag.
He saw me and made a beeline straight to me.
“Aww, don’t you look awesome. Who’s a good hydrant?” I said, ruffling his cheeks.
Behind him came the entire off-duty crew dressed, every single one of them, as police officers.
T-shirts that had POLICE in large white letters, giant mirrored sunglasses with toy badges pinned to their chests.
Utility belts made of pool noodles had various items, including squirt guns, hanging off of them.
Each of them had taped, pinned, and somehow even glued to the surface of their uniforms, donuts.
Plastic ones. Dozens of them. Scott had a string of them around his neck like a necklace.
Thompson had one balanced on each shoulder like epaulettes.
"We're dressed as Hank's department," Scott announced proudly, as if this needed explanation. He caught the eye of one of the real officers. Scott winked and finger-gunned him.
"I can see that."
"They’re going to absolutely lose it," Thompson said, adjusting his fake badge. "Serves them right.”
"Alright everyone, to your work stations," Thompson called, and the crew scattered, donuts swinging, toward their assigned trunk-or-treat positions. “We’ve got jobs to do.”
I scanned the crowd for the one person I hadn't seen yet.
And then I saw him.
Standing near the entrance to the bay, talking to someone I didn’t know, dressed in a full black fur costume with a pointed snout and tall black ears, was Nick Carson.
My hand flew to my mouth as I strode toward him. When I was close enough to him, he excused himself and turned toward me.
"What is this?” I laughed. “I love it.”
"If my girl's going to be Red Riding Hood," he said, stopping in front of me. He spun in a circle. "Then I damn well better be the Big Bad Wolf."
I giggled. “You have a tail.”
“I do.” He shook his butt, causing the tail to wag.
"I thought you hated Summerween." I crossed my arms. "I expected you to spend the entire night locked in your office."
"I do," he said. "I hate it." He looked around at the lights, the crowd, the watermelon jack-o'-lanterns glowing pink and orange in the evening light. "But I like you. And that means liking what you like."
I smiled and stood up on my toes and kissed him right on his furry wolf nose.
"Aww," I said. "Thank you." I patted the fur on his arm. "You should totally wear this later."
He tilted his head, his pointed ears shifting with the movement. "Why?"
I winked at him. "I am Little Red RIDING Hood."
And I turned and walked away into the crowd, leaving Nick Carson standing there in his wolf costume with Monster Mash playing.
Damn, I really am glad I moved here.
The End.