{"id":10692,"date":"2023-10-31T07:01:00","date_gmt":"2023-10-31T11:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/?p=10692"},"modified":"2024-02-15T07:58:14","modified_gmt":"2024-02-15T12:58:14","slug":"another-halloween-story","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/?p=10692","title":{"rendered":"Another Halloween Story"},"content":{"rendered":"<div class=\"wp-block-image\">\n<figure class=\"alignleft size-full is-resized\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"584\" height=\"584\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vweisfeld.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/10\/15511803586_6d5675a3b7_z.jpg?resize=584%2C584&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"pumpkin, book art\" class=\"wp-image-4975\" style=\"aspect-ratio:1;width:278px;height:auto\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vweisfeld.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/10\/15511803586_6d5675a3b7_z.jpg?w=640&amp;ssl=1 640w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vweisfeld.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/10\/15511803586_6d5675a3b7_z.jpg?resize=300%2C300&amp;ssl=1 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 584px) 100vw, 584px\" \/><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n<p><em>Lois Wehre and her tuxedo cat Frankie lived in Grovers\u2019 Mill, New Jersey, where Orson Welles set his Halloween radio broadcast about Martians landing, and where, to this day, Halloween is a big deal. Her house is Ground Zero for tourists, thanks to local teens who once attached a lighted \u201cflying saucer\u201d to her garage roof. Lois grew up in Missouri. Her father was a mean drunk who lorded it over Lois and her weak-willed mother, and worse. They made Lois\u2019s life miserable. When the house burned down one night as her mother and father slept, Lois took her inheritance and moved across country. Some adult children just shouldn\u2019t live with their parents.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<ul class=\"wp-block-list\">\n<li>* * *<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n<p>The wind-whipped whiff of smoke in the air, the flame-colored leaves, the shrieks of the children. Lois forgot to smile at the diminutive superheroes and frothy pink princesses who greedily plunged their hands deep into the candy bowl. \u201cOne piece,\u201d she said, unheeded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The night thickened, and the older kids would start arriving soon. They\u2019d gather outside, trapping her in the house. Not this year. She turned off the lights and, clad head-to-toe in black, a dark scarf hooding her face, slipped out the back door. When she stood motionless at the inky corner of the hedge, she could watch over her house, invisible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Soon a clutch of twelve-year-old boys walked up to the front porch and pounded on the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNobody home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThat old bitch,\u201d one said in a voice that hadn\u2019t changed yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cC\u2019mon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>They slipped around the side of the house. Giggling and mock-shoving, they gathered in a tight circle, blocking the wind. A match flared, and the tip of a cigarette glowed as a boy sucked on it, then passed it to his friend. The match, dropped absent-mindedly, fell in an arcing pinpoint of yellow light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou sure she\u2019s not home?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDanny, she\u2019s not. Dare you to go inside.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNo way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cChicken.\u201d The boy giggled and took a drag on the joint.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI will if you will,\u201d another said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cLet\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As the jostling boys sneaked into the back yard, a cache of dry leaves hidden under the rhododendrons began to flame.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWait,\u201d Lois called, her warning carried away by a gust. She shot out of her hiding place as flames touched the base of the wooden porch. \u201cFrankie!\u201d she shrieked and ran toward the house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Two older teenagers, football players by the intimidating heft of them, stepped in front of her. They were dressed all in black, too. She hadn\u2019t seen them. The taller one wore sunglasses that made his eyes as fathomless as those of the pseudo-aliens decorating her neighbors\u2019 lawns.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhere you going?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThe house is on fire! My cat!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s your hurry? It\u2019s just a few dead leaves.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She tried to dodge around them, but with one side-step they easily blocked someone her size. She shoved. They stood immobile, menacing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cPlease let me by. I have to\u2014hurry!\u2014\u201d Her heart pounded. They didn\u2019t understand how fast fire could move. One end of the porch was burning, and before long, the flames would reach the front door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cCats have nine lives.\u201d The shorter teen snickered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Lois tried again to shove her way between them, but they stood solidly shoulder-to-shoulder, teasing her. \u201cLet me by!\u201d She panted her words. \u201cMy neighbors will have seen the fire by now. You\u2019d better get out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cPlenty of time. Hear anything?\u201d the tall one asked. The other shook his head and grinned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And, indeed, it was eerily quiet, except for the crackling flames. The rose trellis at the end of the porch sparkled with raining cinders. Shrieks of hilarity came from inside the darkened house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThose boys, they have to get out!\u201d She gestured violently. \u201cThey\u2019ll die in there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The teenagers glanced over their shoulders. \u201cHey, assholes!\u201d the tall one yelled. \u201cGet out of there. What\u2019re you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The only answer was more high-pitched laughter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI think your little brother\u2019s with them,\u201d the other said. They turned and in long strides reached the porch, the flames licking toward them. They shoved open the front door. \u201cYou kids get the hell out. The house is on fire, you morons. Danny, if you\u2019re in there, I\u2019m going to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Lois ducked past them, but the tall one grabbed her arm. A column holding up one end of the porch roof collapsed, and the corner of the roof followed in sagging slow motion. Inside, the kids screamed and raced past her, nearly knocking her down. The teenager let go of her arm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDanny? Danny! Where is he?\u201d he yelled at the boys.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The children glanced at each other. \u201cHe was with us a minute ago.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cIn the kitchen,\u201d said another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNo, he wasn\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Lois ran to the back of the house and almost tripped on a still form. She turned on the overhead light. The boy was unconscious beneath an open cabinet door. \u201cMust of cracked his head,\u201d she muttered. She picked him up\u2014heavy for her\u2014and called, \u201cFrankie! Frankie!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A child where he wasn\u2019t supposed to be, just like her daughter Kaye, where she wasn\u2019t supposed to be, the night of that other fire. Kaye had a sleepover, but the girls quarreled after dinner, and Kaye came home while Lois was in the back yard, putting out water for the chickens. She never knew Kaye was there until the firemen carried out the third body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Danny\u2019s weight caused her to stagger a little. Frankie dashed between her legs, nearly tripping her as she reached the open back door. Being allowed outside at night was a rare treat, and Frankie wouldn\u2019t miss this chance. He flew off the steps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The teenagers arrived at the bottom of the stoop just as she did, and she handed them Danny like a gift. Then they heard the sirens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"584\" height=\"584\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vweisfeld.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/Black-and-White-Cat.jpg?resize=584%2C584&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-10693\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vweisfeld.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/Black-and-White-Cat.jpg?w=640&amp;ssl=1 640w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vweisfeld.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/Black-and-White-Cat.jpg?resize=300%2C300&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vweisfeld.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/Black-and-White-Cat.jpg?resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 150w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 584px) 100vw, 584px\" \/><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Lois Wehre and her tuxedo cat Frankie lived in Grovers\u2019 Mill, New Jersey, where Orson Welles set his Halloween radio broadcast about Martians landing, and where, to this day, Halloween is a big deal. Her house is Ground Zero for &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/?p=10692\">Continue reading <span class=\"meta-nav\">&rarr;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Halloween is just too weird and unsettling for some people! Like Lois Wehre of Grovers Mill, New Jersey.","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[40,120,104],"tags":[2133,1430,421],"class_list":["post-10692","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-short-story","category-the-morgue","tag-fiction","tag-halloween","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2NkiT-2Ms","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10692","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10692"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10692\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10838,"href":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10692\/revisions\/10838"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10692"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10692"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vweisfeld.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10692"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}