The unexpected sweet trunk-or-treat encounter
Four years ago, the long-awaited October 31 holiday threw me back into blogging, so I guess you could say I’m a sentimentalist carrying on a tradition. Orrrrr I’ve been really lax about blogging for almost three months. Take your pick.
Regardless, Halloween has a way of getting me in good spirits (heh heh, “spirits,” heh heh) and in a writing mood. Some of my better short stories owe their existence to this spooky time of year. Not that I’ve gotten any bites on the multiple places I’ve submitted them to – other than one in 2015 (included in this amazing suspense anthology you can purchase here for the low, low price of $7.95. Act now!). Soooooo if you know anyone looking to publish a poor girl’s dark fiction…*wink wink*
But allow me to get past the self-serving plug and into the real purpose of this blog post. This past Sunday, our church hosted a trunk-or-treat. I absolutely love trunk-or-treat. I love the kids’ excitement. I love seeing the costumes (especially the family/group ones). I love coming up with a theme for the trunk and decorating. I love being with my husband and friends. I love – LOVE – dressing up. Since we have a black miniature schnauzer, whom you all have already met, I chose to dress as Dorothy Gale from the classic “The Wizard of Oz.” My friends (and friends of friends) were dressed adorably as the Cowardly Lion, Tin Man, Scarecrow, and munchkins. Cory came as a 1970s racecar driver. I think he was supposed to be Matt Damon’s character in the new “Ford vs. Ferrari” movie coming out soon. He wore a cowboy hat, so I told him he might be mistaken for Professor Marvel.
A couple other Dorothys were present that night (including one who spotted me from afar and turned to her grandma to say, “Look, Grandma! A grown-up Dorothy!”), but they didn’t steal my heart like a bespectacled special needs girl wearing what I believe was a fairy costume underneath a cumbersome back brace.
When this girl saw me, she gently pulled her hand from her mom’s arm and toddled across the pavement toward our trunk. Y’all, my heart is melting as I type this, but the girl actually curtsied to me. “Hello, Miss Dorothy,” she said.
Obviously, I curtsied back. “Well, hello!” We were supposed to drop two pieces of candy in every kid’s bag, but I’m pretty sure I may have given her three. Or four.
“Did you come from Kansas?” she asked.
“I did,” I replied. “I came all the way here from Kansas and Oz to be here tonight.”
The girl grinned and looked at our dog, Zuzu, who was absorbing the evening comfortably from the arms of my husband behind me. “Is that Toto?”
“Yes, it is. Of course, Toto had to come with me.”
“Have you seen the witch?” the girl asked with genuine concern.
I widened my eyes and shook my head. “No, I haven’t, but I’ve been watching. Will you keep an eye out for her and let me know if you see her?”
The girl nodded and – y’all – curtsied again. “I will keep an eye out for her. It was nice to meet you, Miss Dorothy.”
I curtsied again. “Nice to meet you too.”
The girl took her mother’s arm again. As they walked away, her mother turned toward our trunk and smiled and said, “Thank you.” The inhabitants of Oz smiled and waved back.
That’s what I love about this holiday. Sure, there are the scary elements of the season, the bloody, the occult, the nightmare-inducing. Those have their place, and I like a little spookiness every now and then. But the really cool thing is the chance to be someone else. It’s a time of year when you can assume a character just out in normal society and nobody bats an eye. I picked up decorations for the trunk from Dollar Tree right before we went to the church, and two other little girls wanted to talk to Dorothy. Not me, but Dorothy. I just happened to be a vessel for that timeless character.
Okay, maybe now I sound crazy, but all I’m saying is I feel blessed that I got to be something to that girl at trunk-or-treat. For a few minutes, I wasn’t just a nearly 30-year-old woman in a gingham dress and pigtails; I was Dorothy Gale from Kansas. As that girl gets older and she’s not dressing up for Halloween anymore, I hope she looks back on this Halloween as one in which someone took the time to play to her imagination. People did that for me when I was a kid, and I’m thrilled that I get the opportunity to do that for kids now.
So happy Halloween, everybody. Make it magical.
The Weight Is Over 