Last Time

Deranged killer Michael Meyers couldn’t look like a wimp. When Ricky turned on his pocket-sized flashlight, he hoped no one knew it was him under the mask. He couldn’t believe he let Rachel talk him into meeting at the cemetery. They’d decided a month earlier, when they both became teenagers, this would be their last time trick-or-treating. Rachel insisted it be a memorable occasion.

It was already memorable for Ricky. He didn’t like being alone in the dark, and the broken streetlight in front of the graveyard made it spookier than it should have been. He sucked it up and turned the flashlight off, making it difficult to see more than a few inches in front of him; he wove his way around headstones as quickly as he dared. The wail of sirens made him jump. A few minutes later, the eerie trill of a screech owl forced a squeaky shriek from his throat. That made him jump even more. He immediately turned his light back on, not caring who saw it. He hurried down the path until he reached the oldest headstone, the farthest from the road. Another of Rachel’s decisions.

Taking off his mask to inhale the cool autumn air, Ricky looked around but saw no movement. He couldn’t believe he got there before her. That rarely happened in anything they did.

It was so quiet now. Eerily quiet. Not even a breeze to rustle the leaves blanketing the ground. After glancing around in every direction, and seeing no one, he put his mask back on and waited. He was irritated with himself for not insisting they meet at Eddie’s house. It was everyone’s favorite place to be on Halloween. The family transformed their barn into a haunted house with mystery boxes to stick your hand in to feel brains, intestines, or eyeballs. Skeletons poked their heads around hay bales, while ghosts hung from the rafters, laughing at whoever passed by. The older kids would randomly shoot colored slime from the hayloft, making people shriek. The best part was that Eddie’s mom made the best caramel apples; Ricky hoped he and Rachel would make it to the party before they were gone.

The anticipation made him feel less anxious. He even smiled a little, before shining his light around, and whispering loudly, “Rachel, where are you?” That was a question he had asked many times over the years. They’d been friends since kindergarten, when she talked him into a game of hide and seek. He’d looked everywhere for her, and when he was ready to give up, she appeared out of nowhere, startling him. But it made him laugh, too. Just like it would now. What better way to scare someone on Halloween than to pop out from behind a tombstone. “Come on out, Rach. You’re not scaring me tonight.” 

“Did you hear that?” Rachel whispered in his ear.

Ricky screamed.

Whirling around, he shined his light on a witch, dressed all in black. “Don’t do that!” he said. But deep down, he knew he would always let her do that. Someday he would tell her how his feelings were changing to more than just friends, but that was a long way down the road; he hadn’t even kissed her yet.

Whoa! Where did that come from? Heat rose in his cheeks, and he was glad for the mask to hide behind. A delayed, unspoken answer to her question was the sound of his heart thumping against his chest. His brain was entering foreign territory, and it was time to step back and regroup. “C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he said, his voice a little too loud. “It’s our last time to beg for candy.”

They walked out of the cemetery, and across the street to stand at a corner. A working streetlight illuminated them, and Ricky looked over at Rachel. “How can you see through that?” he said, pointing to the large, brimmed hat pulled low on her forehead.

“It’s mesh. I can see just fine.” 

“Good, I was worried I’d have to lead you around all night.” Ricky chuckled while thinking it would be okay by him. “Where’s your candy sack?” He gestured by lifting the end of the pillowcase looped around his belt.

“Don’t need one. My cloak has deep pockets.”

Walking past dark houses, Ricky saw a large group of kids rushing up the steps of Mrs. Butler’s house. He picked up his pace, but slowed when he realized Rachel wasn’t keeping up. “Are you okay?” He looked from her to the house where another group just entered the yard. Mrs. B handed out full-size Snickers bars, and always ran out early.

“I’m just a little lightheaded. Go get your Snickers. It’s your favorite. I’ll wait here.”

“No, let me take you home,” Ricky said with concern in his voice.

“Don’t be silly, it’s our last time to do this. Your last candy bar from Mrs. B.”

Ricky hesitated, but only for a second, before racing across the yard, and up the steps. A little boy dressed as Sheriff Woody from Toy Story saw him, backed away and began crying. Ricky pulled off his mask, and knelt down in front of the boy. “Hey Toby, it’s me, Ricky.” He held out the rubber mask and said, “See? It’s not real.” Toby inspected it, and sniffled. He hiccupped once, then looking from the mask to Ricky’s face, nodded, warily. By the time they got to the door, the boy was grinning again. He held out his plastic pumpkin and announced, “Twick or tweet!”

Marie Butler, who wore a pointed witch’s hat, smiled and put a candy bar in his bucket. She looked over at Ricky, and her smile faded. “Are you doing all right, son?”

 “I’m fine, thanks,” Ricky said, puzzled by the question. “It’s my last year of doing this, so I wanted to be sure to get to your house early.” He grinned, and held his pillowcase open.

When he got back to Rachel, he told her what Mrs. Butler said. He frowned and shook his head. “Don’t you think that was strange? Why wouldn’t I be all right?”

“Who knows. Maybe she is a witch, and had some kind of premonition,” said Rachel. “C’mon, we should get going.”

They stopped at a few more houses, but Ricky wasn’t as excited as he’d been earlier. Rachel still wasn’t feeling well, and everyone kept asking how he was doing. When he turned to go from one house, he overheard Mr. Weece say to his wife, “The boy sure is putting up a strong front.”

News spread faster than a wildfire in their small town, so Ricky knew something was wrong. He just didn’t know what. When he got back to Rachel he said, “We need to go to my house. I think something’s happened to someone in my family.”

Rachel only nodded. “I’m sorry tonight didn’t turn out like we planned. It was supposed to be special. And to make it worse, I have to tell you I’m leaving.”

“It’s okay, you aren’t feeling...” Ricky stopped in his tracks, and turned to her. “Leaving? What does that mean, you’re leaving?” He stared at her, his mind going in circles. He was desperate to say, “You can’t just leave. Not when I finally found the courage to kiss you, to tell you how I feel,” but all he could do was look at her, then toward his house, less than a block away, and back at her. Finally, he said, “This is bad timing, Rach. I need to get home and find out what’s wrong. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Feel better, okay?” He raced off before giving her a chance to respond.

Several cars were parked in front of his house. He ran up the steps and was met by his mother. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She hugged him tight and kept saying, “I’m so sorry, honey.”

Ricky pulled away. “What’s happened, Mom? Every house we went to, people made strange comments.”

“There was a bad accident tonight.”

“I heard the sirens a couple of hours ago. Who got hurt?”

“Oh baby, it was Rachel. She was hit by a car a block from the cemetery.” Wrapping him in her arms again, she said, “She’s gone.”

Everything in Ricky’s world stopped. His mother’s words made no sense. He pulled away from her and shook his head violently. “That’s not true, not possible. We’ve been together for the last hour. We met at the cemetery like we planned. She’s just down the street.” He turned and pointed in the direction of where he’d left her. The sidewalk was empty. Looking back at his mother with confusion on his face, tears stung his eyes. “She can’t have gotten far, she’s not feeling well. She’s wearing… a… witch costume.”

Ricky’s face contorted. It was hard to get the words out. His mind raced in reverse, trying to piece it all together. They were together, walking side by side. But Rachel stayed behind at every house, claiming not to feel well, but refusing to leave. They had met up with friends on two separate occasions, but now he remembered Mark and Kenny only spoke to him.

Like she wasn’t even there.

Ricky heaved a shuddering sigh. Tears streamed down his face. Not willing to accept the truth, he looked up at his mother. “We went trick-or-treating.” For the last time. “Rachel spoke to me.” For the last time.

A sob escaped at the same time he said, “Then she told me…she told me—”

I’ll miss you, too. And stop being afraid of the dark.

Ricky twisted around so fast, he almost lost his balance. “Rachel!” He looked around, frantically. She was there. He felt her breath in his ear. He heard her speak to him. Turning back to his mother, his eyes wide with astonishment, he said, “Did you hear that?”