***
When she woke up in the morning, Helen was gone.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BELMORE GIRLS
It was their junior year at Belmore.
It was Thursday, 30 October.
The girls, scattered about the living room of their apartment, had the television on. Abilene, slumped on the sofa with her feet resting on the coffee table, watched the eleven o’clock news anchored by Candi Delmar while Vivian fiddled with hair curlers, Finley studied TV Guide, Cora skimmed a chapter in her physiology textbook, and Helen munched nacho-flavored tortilla chips.
‘Parents,’ Candi reported, ‘are being encouraged to take advantage of various community activities, such as Halloween parties being hosted at local recreation centers, which provide a safe alternative to the traditional trick-or-treating.’
‘Oh, what fun,’ Abilene muttered. ‘Next thing you know, they’re gonna outlaw trick-or-treating.’
‘For those who do intend to allow their children to go from door to door, however, we at Newscene urge that several simple precautions be followed. Naturally, small children should always be accompanied by an adult. Make sure their costumes are made of flame-resistant fabrics and light in color so that they will be plainly visible to motorists. Masks should not restrict the child’s vision. Finally, take special care to inspect all the treats before you allow them to be eaten by your young ones. Be on the lookout for any signs of tampering, especially with such items as home-baked goods and fruit.’
‘The ol’ razor blade in the apple gag,’ Finley said, looking up from the TV Guide.
‘Ouch,’ Helen said.
‘… foreign objects in your child’s treats, you should immediately alert the police.’
‘Who would do something like that?’ Helen asked.
‘A lot of sick bastards in this world,’ Abilene said.
‘… these simple guidelines and have a safe and sane Halloween.’
Cora shut her textbook. ‘Halloween was never intended to be safe and sane. The whole idea’s to get wild.’
‘I used to get scared silly,’ Helen said. ‘You know? You go up to some creepy old house and ring the doorbell? You never know who’s gonna open the door.’
‘Or what,' Finley added.
‘Oooo, I get goosebumps just thinking about it. I think it was my favorite holiday, besides Christmas.’
‘Once I got too old for trick-or-treating,’ Abilene said, ‘we’d always stay home and fix up the house. To make it look spooky. I’d hand out the goodies, but Dad’d pull stuff. Come to the door in a vampire outfit, or something. I remember this one time, he rigged up an overcoat so it covered his head. Then he hid on the porch and snuck up on the kids. Scared the hell out of them. Some of ’em actually ran off screaming. And Dad would end up laughing like crazy and Mom’d yell at him. He’d say, “Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud. They love it.” ’ Abilene shook her head. ‘It was so neat. He’ll probably be up to his same old tricks tomorrow night.’ She felt her throat tighten. ‘God, I’m making myself homesick.’
‘We oughta do something,’ Finley said.
‘Yeah,’ Abilene said. ‘Last year was a drag. We bought all that stuff and nobody showed up.’
‘A few did,’ Vivian pointed out.
‘Six or seven. Might as well not have been a Halloween.’ Cora grinned. ‘We could crash the Sig party. They’re having that Midnight Sabat thing.’
'You got a death wish?’ Abilene asked.
‘Why don’t we go out trick-or-treating?’ Finley suggested.
‘I think we’re a little old for that,’ Vivian said, pinning a final curler into her hair.
‘We could go to the movies,’ Helen said. ‘They’re having a special all-night Shock Festival at the Elsinore.’
‘That sounds pretty lame,’ Finley said.
‘Yeah,’ Abilene said. ‘We can go to movies any time.’
‘Helen does,' Cora pointed out.
‘It doesn’t have to be actual trick-or-treating,’ Abilene said. ‘But it’d be neat to get out into the streets. Put together some costumes. Get a look at the kids.’
‘See if any are even out there,’ Cora said. ‘Maybe they’ll all be off having a safe and sane time taking advantage of community activities.’
‘If they are,’ Abilene said, ‘I pity them. Anyway, how about it? We don’t actually have to go around ringing doorbells. What we could do is buy a bunch of candy and take it with us, and hand it out to the kids we see.’
‘I’ll wear my gorilla mask,’ Finley said.
‘Newscene wouldn’t approve,’ Cora told her. ‘It restricts your vision.’
‘Screw Newscene.’
Finley wore her gorilla mask and a suit of green, mechanic’s coveralls that she found after cutting her afternoon classes and searching thrift shops in the seamier area of town. She announced that she would be going out as a grease monkey.
Cora, averse to dressing up, gave in to pressure from the others and wore her varsity cheerleader costume from high school. It consisted of a white pullover sweater with a large M in front, a short white pleated skirt, white crew socks and sneakers.
Vivian borrowed a costume from the wardrobe room of the theater arts department. She would be going out as a witch, complete with pointed hat and a flowing black gown. She used makeup to construct a nasty, bulbous wen for the tip of her nose. She didn’t want to carry a broom but Finley talked her into it.
Abilene prepared her costume in secret. She cut out a foot-long crescent in cardboard, taped it securely to the pendant of a chain necklace, covered the cardboard with aluminium foil and attached the Schick label from a pack of injector blades. She scissored a big hole under one arm of an old sweatshirt. While the others were in the living room, she dressed herself in Reeboks, corduroy pants and the maimed sweatshirt. She dropped the chain over her head so that the shiny crescent hung across her chest. Then she joined the rest of them.
‘What the hell are you supposed to be?’ Cora asked, seeming to frown and smile at the same time.
Abilene grinned. She raised her right arm and waved it up and down, showing her exposed armpit.
‘An ad for Ban deodorant,’ suggested Finley, who was tossing her gorilla head from hand to hand.
‘Beeeeep. Wrong.’ She tapped the dangling crescent.
‘Moon something,’ Helen guessed. ‘A silver moon.’
‘You’re a Moonie,’ Cora said.
‘Beeeeep. Wrong.’
‘A lunatic,’ Finley said.
‘I get it,’ Vivian said. Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes upward. ‘I’ll give you gals a couple of hints. One, it’s really dumb.’
‘That narrows things down,’ Cora said.
‘Two, Abilene’s an English major.’
