flipflop_diva

The sun had just set when Steven walked into the kitchen, a smile across his face. He headed straight to the open window, taking in the chill of the air outside as well as the joyous sound of laughter and screams.

His favorite night of the year, when kids of all ages dressed up in crazy outfits and roamed the streets at all hours, knocking on doors and pleading for candy.

He had adored Halloween when he was a kid, always begging his mom to let him start as soon as his homework was finished and stay out until he was too tired to walk anymore. And it wasn’t just about the candy, although he had loved that tooth-rotting junk too. But it was also the costumes and the idea of hiding your true self behind something else, it was the decorations on people’s houses, and it was the entire atmosphere, how you could almost feel an electric tingle in the air as the night was filled with nonstop noise and chaos.

Now, years later, he had his own Halloween night ritual, and he was so eager for it, he almost wanted to clap his hands together and dance on his tiptoes like he had when he was a boy.

But instead, he turned around. He had preparations to get started on, and he didn’t have all night.

He left the window open as he got to work, giving himself a chance to hear the voices of his potential visitors as they came closer and then moved further away. He had a huge bowl of candy waiting inside the door and the porch light was on, indicating he was home, but he didn’t expect any visitors. Not at this hour, when the trick or treaters were all still accompanied by their parents.

There was a reason Steven’s house was always voted “Creepiest House in the ’Hood” in the local newspaper, and although that was a source of endless pride for him, it did limit his Halloween visitors. No little child, or their parents, wanted to venture down the dark, unlit path to his door, their clothes getting gnawed at by bare branches, the shriek of the wind through those branches yelling in their ears. And that wasn’t even considering the plethora of spiders that had taken up residence on his front porch.

But later tonight, when the little kids were home and tucked in their beds, the brave teenagers would come knocking on his door, and he would greet them with the exuberance they deserved.

With any luck, it might just be the greatest night some of them would ever have.

Steven smiled to himself as he thought about what the night would bring. He wished he could see the kids’ costumes from his kitchen window — all the little kids dressed as princesses and pirates, witches and ghosts, superheroes and cartoon mice. Tonight, the older ones might come as monsters or serial killers or something crazy that he was too old to understand.

Steven chuckled at that as he opened the cabinet containing his finest China. Once upon a moon, he was the crazy kid pounding on people’s doors. How the tables had turned. Tonight, he was staying in, preparing a lavish feast for his two best friends.

Michael, Jason, and he had been best friends for as long as Steven could remember. They’d grown up together, gone to school together, trick or treated together and went through the worst ordeal anyone could imagine together.

Still to this day, he didn’t like to think about that time, although Halloween always did bring the memories back. How they had been walking in the woods on a night similar to this one, how the older boys had grabbed them out of nowhere, how he had been so sure it was the end of all of them.

And it would have been, if it hadn’t been for Jessica. She had saved them that night, and they owed her everything. She was the only reason Steven, Michael and Jason stood up and walked out of those woods, and she was the one who protected them for years after, who taught them what they needed to know.

She was their true teacher, their mentor, and their friend. Steven wished Jessica could have come to his dinner party, but she had left town years ago, following her calling to a much larger city.

Steven finished setting the table and stood back to admire his work. The black dishware was stunning in the candlelight, and the blades of the knives glinting in the flames added to the ambience.

Steven headed back to the kitchen and walked over to the stove. The water in all the giant pans were beginning to boil, and the skillets were heating nicely.

His stomach rumbled, a low sound in the noisy kitchen, and he licked his lips. Dinner was almost ready.

As if they could hear his thoughts, or maybe because their stomachs were rumbling too, Michael and Jason appeared in the kitchen doorway just a moment later. Jason was dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt, but Michael looked the part in his tux and his cape.

Steven opened the fridge and took out the pitcher he had made earlier. The red liquid filled the wine glasses, and he handed one to each of his friends.

“To a most wonderful meal!” he said.

“To a most wonderful meal,” they echoed, their glasses clinking together before they each took a sip.

Outside, the night was as dark as could be. The one streetlight in front of Steven’s house had been broken for ages. But through the darkness they heard the voices of a bunch of laughing teenagers.

Steven waited, listening.

Yes! They were turning down his sidewalk. The trick or treaters were here!

Steven gestured to his friends, and they hurried to the door together.

In the hallway, a clock ticked, like it was marking this perfect moment.

Steven smoothed down his outfit, feeling every cell of his body rise in anticipation.

Michael and Jason fidgeted beside him, the silence of the house seeming to stretch and pull, filling every corner of every room.

And then there. A small chime

He beamed. “Gentlemen, our dinner is here!”

He moved to the door, his friends behind him. He pulled it open, wide enough for him, Michael and Jason to all see the four teenagers gathered on the porch.

One for each of them, and one to share for dessert.

Perfect.

“Trick or treat!” the meals on the front porch screamed, pushing against each other to try and reach the bowl of candy in Steven’s hands.

Beside Steven, the fangs of his friends had become visible, but their dinners and dessert were oblivious.

“Trick or treat indeed,” Steven said, grabbing on to one of the teen’s arms as his friends grabbed for the other ones. “And what a treat this will be.”



Fiction.



This was written for therealljidol Three Strikes Mini Season. If you liked my entry, please consider voting for me! You should also go read all the other amazing entries. You can find them all here. Voting should be up Wednesday night!