Contributing Writer

Halloween is a special time for girls and boys everywhere. It's a time

for dressing up in your favorite costume to troll the neighbor in search

of the one house that will have the best candy selection of all.

On Flamingo Street, no such searching was necessary. We all knew which house

had all the best goodies, and we saved that one for last. The house was at

the bottom of the hill and was the only house in the cul-de-sac. It was the

one with the broken mailbox that Bubba Hanks crashed into when, during the

last ice storm, he rode the metal disk of death into Flamingo Street history.

Oddly enough, it was where Old Mrs. Crabtree lived.

Mrs. Crabtree hated kids; just ask any of us who were unfortunately sentenced

to her fifth-grade class at Mount Olive Elementary School for an entire school

year. I remember that year very well. It was the year that most of the kids

from Flamingo Street were in her class. It was the year that Bully Brad only

beat me up five times. It was the year I didn't get any candy on Halloween. And

it was the year that I promised to keep a secret on the Monday after Halloween

and never tell anyone; that is, until now.

Old Mrs. Crabtree hated kids so much that every year, three days before

Halloween, she'd take a vacation just so she wouldn't have to give

out any candy to the trick-or-treaters who came to her house. Every year

she got a substitute teacher and went on a three-day vacation, oblivious

to the fact that while she was gone, we didn't do any schoolwork. And

while she was gone, not only did someone decorate her yard for Halloween,

turning it into the coolest yard on the whole street, but they also broke

into her house and gave us kids the best candy we ever had. In those three

days she was gone, the decorations started to mysteriously appear in her

yard: coffins on the driveway, skeletons hanging from the trees, ghosts swinging

from wires across the yard, cobwebs on the windows and grave markers lining

the sidewalk. It was a ghastly sight, and we kids just loved it!

No one ever saw who decorated Mrs. Crabtree's yard though. Strangely,

it was all done in the middle of the night. As far as we could tell, Mrs.

Crabtree never knew anything about it. Her yard was all cleaned up by the

time she got back home, and the first school day after Halloween, she denied

any knowledge of the scary events that happened at her house. It was a good

thing too; she would have hated all of those kids in her yard. She hated

kids.

All the kids in the neighborhood gathered in front of Thomas' house

just before dark on Halloween night, which fell on a Sunday. It was an unwritten

rule that no candy could be given out before nightfall. Thomas lived right

next door so my brothers and I didn't have too far to walk. Big Brother

James was dressed as Superman, Older Brother Richard was a giant frog, Twin

Brother Mark was all wrapped up in aluminum foil (he was an alien), and I

was the Flash. I was the Flash because I was the fastest kid in all of fifth

grade, a skill I developed due to running for my life from Bully Brad.

Neighbor Thomas was G.I. Joe, Bubba Hanks was a jack-O-lantern, Candi was

a sunflower with giant yellow petals, Preston Weston III was a banker, Blabber

Mouth Betsy and Tattle Tail Tina were angels, but the dumbest costume was

Goofy Steve's. Goof came walking up wearing green shoes, green stockings

and his entire body wrapped up in green paper, with his arms wrapped down

he looked really stupid. When we finally stopped laughing, I asked him what

he was supposed to be. He stood up straight and said, "I'm a string

bean!"

"How are you going to hold your candy bag if your arms are all wrapped

up?" I asked.

Goof turned around and showed us that his mom had sewn a bag to his back.

We knocked on all the doors on our street and got tons of candy that night. Poor

Goof! When he got candy, one of us would sneak up behind him and steal it

from his bag.

The last stop was Mrs. Crabtree's house. We rang the doorbell, and

a witch answered! I hated witches. She had a long crooked nose with warts

on it, long black hair, long crooked fingers with black fingernails, and

when she smiled every other tooth was blackened out. She gave everyone candy,

and even filled Goof's bag up so much, he almost fell backwards walking

down the steps.

I was the last to leave, and as I turned to go she grabbed me and whispered, "Where

do you think you're going?" Then I heard that scary laugh of hers.

I dropped my bag of candy right there at her feet and ran back home!

The next day Mrs. Crabtree denied any knowledge of the scary goings-on at

her house. That afternoon when the bell rang, she asked me to stay after

school for a moment because she had something to give me. When all the other

kids left, Mrs. Crabtree asked me to come up to her desk. She stood up and

handed me a large brown bag with a note attached. I thanked her, turned to

leave and walked over to the door where I stopped to read the note: "Our

little secret, Flash. Please don't tell anyone. Happy Halloween."

I opened the bag, and it was full of the best selection of Halloween candy

I'd ever seen. Then I heard the scary laugh again. The same one I heard

when the witch grabbed me, and I dropped my bag of candy. I turned and saw

Old Mrs. Crabtree standing there, smiling, with every other tooth blackened

out.

[Rick Ryckeley is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and

Emergency Services. He can be reached at [email protected].]