Holiday Field Trip

A blue mist drifted over the historic graveyard. Vandals dressed as goblins had dropped globular mounds of slime on ancient headstones in this Salem, Massachusetts location. At the same time, in the center of town, masked children and adults—many with rubberized chimpanzee frowns along with jutting hairy witch chins and orange-faced Trump effigies filled the streets and shops on this Halloween night. 

The mist added to the fright factor, weaving through the cemetery and town in ribbons, obscuring the bats who congregated in fits and starts above the crowds. Finding an unmasked human—even a cop—was impossible. With so many dressed as cops and firemen, one could not discern the real from the fake.

Valerie had rented a lovely Airbnb location for herself and her children—Harry seven and Louis nine. They had flown a week before the holiday from Michigan to spend two weeks in New England—a field trip for her home-schooled boys. She had planned it all: lessons about the witch trials, New Bedford whales and Moby Dick, the Freedom Trail including Mother Goose’s grave on Tremont Street with the trip’s highlight — Halloween night in Salem. 

Valerie dressed as a butterfly angel with wings she made by wrapping and weaving glittery yarn in and out of a wire frame. Her halo hovered above her string black wig. Harry dressed as one of the dogs from Paw Patrol, an animated kids show he had watched from the age of three, and Louis insisted on dressing as Elsa from the Disney hit movie Frozen.

Their Airbnb host traveling in Europe had left maps for how to reach the center of town. Armed with flashlights and good walking shoes, they were ready for adventure. The path into town led through the cemetery. A car with a loudspeaker broadcast sound effects that reverberated through the night air—a creaky door, witches cackling, heavy breathing, church bells clanging, organ music in a minor key, and the sound of someone dragging a corpse along a floor. Harry ran toward the glowing slime deposits on the gravestones. Valerie noticed a group of boys or men, she wasn’t sure which. Stockings over their heads made them into scary ghouls with smooshed faces. Huddled together with spray cans, they painted headstones, turning to threaten anyone who approached them with a spray attack.

Valerie hollered for Harry and Louis to stay close to her. The stocking-faced creatures with the spray cans, distracted by Valerie’s voice turned to face her and the kids.

“Do not make eye contact,” she whispered to her boys, then turned away from the vandals who moved closer. She heard the hiss of the spray can behind her. When one of the crushed faces pulled off Valerie’s halo, she and the boys took off in a run. They made it to the street with the protected flow of disguised two-leggeds and multiple ghosts carrying trick-or-treat plastic pumpkins—all heading to the heart of downtown Salem. Once under the lights of the main mall walk, Valerie’s breathing returned to normal. She pulled her boys close to her insisting that they hold hands.

“Mom! Your wings and dress are all black!” Louis said.

“I thought as much,” Valerie said. “But we’re all okay.” 

“That was a close call,” Harry said.

“What did we learn from that boys?”

Harry said. “Not to leave your side and run ahead the way I did. I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Glad I wore this black wig. At least we didn’t breathe in any of the paint. Can you touch it Louis to see if it's wet or sticky?"

"It's dry, Mom," Louis said, “I learned that Halloween is not just fake scary it can be dangerous scary even if ghosts and vampires aren't real.”

“No matter where we go boys, even seemingly innocent places, there will always be someone using the situation to hurt or bully or to vandalize.”

“But does that mean we should always be afraid, Mom?”’

“Always be on your guard, boys,” she said, remembering her 20s when her naivete and desire to be agreeable brought her into so many compromising situations under the guise of "employment." Only years later had she realized some seedy guy's behavior had been predatory and that she had narrowly escaped attack.

“Eyes open, brain open,” Harry said. “Open for adventure not for ...”

“But isn’t that part of what we’re doing, taking adventures into the unknown?” Louis said.

“I can make lessons for you. We can study the history of this place, but that doesn’t mean we know everything about it.”

“Those creeps ruined our night!”

“Hardly. We came through it OK. We ran when we needed to run.”

“I learned I won’t ever go after glowing slime!”

“That’s not the point, Harry.”

“What is the point?” both boys asked in unison.

“The point is: be prepared. Use your eyes and use your senses like a cat. If something looks or feels off and you get a feeling in your stomach that someone is a troublemaker, don’t engage. And don’t make eye contact. Just keep moving in the opposite direction. Who knows what would have happened if we confronted them instead of turning away?”

“They might have backed down.”

“What if I told them to stop spraying the headstones? Do you think they would have listened to me and said, ‘Yes, Ma’am we’re sorry?’ No. We did the wise thing. We didn’t engage. We escaped. In some situations, you may not be so lucky which is why when we get back home I’m going to enroll both of you in some martial arts courses. In fact, I’m going to enroll myself in one so I can be better prepared for the unknown. That’s what I learned. What do you boys think of that?”

“Cool,” they said in unison making karate chop motions and sounds pretending to spar and cut blocks of wood in half with their fists while their mother relived those dangerous moments from her past in her mind's eye, the details of which she would one day in the future share not only with her adult sons but their daughters as well.